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wakandas-vibranium · 2 years ago

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Wednesday Nights || Part Four

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, time skip, angst, fluff

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit choppy. I am not a fan of time skips. Four chapters down, one more to go. Thank y'all for reading. Please like, comment, and share!

part one

part two

part three

part five

“Mom!”

You awakened with a jolt, in a cold sweat in your new living quarters. You'd been suffering the same nightmare for 20 years. You had to witness your mother turn and attack your father, turning him. Then, before they could attack and turn you, they were both gunned down.

That was 20 years ago and you still weren’t fully recovered. Your luck finally started to come through these last six months.

You were walking alone in the winter cold. The cold air was stinging on your skin as you traveled down the icy river.

Six people on horses surrounded you and grilled you so badly that you thought they were going to kill you. One of the men on the horses yanked his bandana down over his face and screamed your name so loudly that he startled the horses and a few of the others with him.

“Y/N!” Tommy called as he hopped down from his horse, running over to you. Even though his hair was longer and he'd grown a beard, you recognized Tommy right away.

The blood rushed to your face so quickly that you almost passed out. You thought he was dead. You assumed all three of them were all dead. You peered over Tommy's shoulder at the other riders as he drew you into a crushing hug. You didn't see Joel. Was Joel still alive? Was he even here with Tommy?

You rode back with Tommy on his horse, relieved to be off your feet. You'd been walking for weeks. You were in the dining hall eating with Tommy and his new wife, Maria. She was gorgeous and a little intimidating, but she made small talk.

You couldn’t help but notice her body language and the way her lips would thin into a straight line and shoulders would tense at any mention of Joel. Tommy let you know as soon as possible that Sarah didn’t make it. You felt your heart drop to your stomach, but managed to keep it together. Before today, you already assumed she died.

“It’s not like your brother is the best at making decisions,” Maria mumbled, fighting back an eye roll.

Tommy was sharing with you some of the things he and Joel had to do in order to survive. You’d done similar things and a few worse things. You weren’t one to judge and you weren’t going to judge Tommy and Joel. They were the only family you had left.

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You snapped, no longer able to ignore the jabs Maria kept taking at Joel.

And the fact that Tommy just sat there and let her insult his brother really pissed you off. Not so much Tommy, but Maria's uppity demeanor got under your skin. Who the hell did she think she was? Good for her if she never had to stoop so low to survive in this shitty post-apocalyptic world. Good for fuckin' her, you thought.

Tommy leaned forward and whispered something into his wife's ear. She cringed and glanced at you before apologizing. Tommy opted to change the subject and asked you what happened to you on breakout day.

“My parents turned right in front of me. Before I could even comprehend what was happenin’ to ‘em they were shot dead.”

You remembered that day like it was yesterday. It was awful. Your parents were taken from you too fast. It was unfair.

“Then I hauled ass across Austin to try and get to you, Joel and Sarah. None of you were answering your phones so I figured it must have been happening around y’all too.”

You had a severe panic attack once you realized that you were well and truly on your own. You were lost. You didn’t know what to do without any of them. How were you supposed to survive in a world when your favorite five people no longer existed?

“Eventually I ended up working with a small group of nine people to help find a cure for whatever this was. I worked with doctors, nurses, scientists on this. We were desperate to find a cure. Tommy, I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, but we’ve exhausted every single possibility and nothing. There is no cure for this.”

“Wow.” Tommy said, sighing deeply at your newfound news. He had held out hope that there was a cure, but he wasn’t shocked that there wasn’t one.

Enough about you. Tommy told you that Joel was alive and I just missed him by a few weeks.

“Where is Joel?”

“Ellie—the young girl he’s with is immune. Joel took her to a hospital — a firefly post so that they could use Ellie’s blood to make a cure.” Tommy explained cooly.

“What?” You uttered lowly. You had your fair share of run-ins with the fireflies. Enough for a lifetime, and each instance damn near cost you your life. You had the awful pleasure of meeting their leader, Marlene. She had an impressive right hook, but your left was a lot meaner.

The nine people you'd been traveling with for the past 20 years were all dead. The majority were killed by clickers, while the others were killed by firefly bombs. You were furious and alone. On a mission to find Marlene, the leader of the fireflies.

You were determined to kill her where she stood. You'd had a few run-ins with Marlene, and they always ended bloody.

You didn't belong to FEDRA or the Fireflies. You were part of a small group of surgeons, biologists, nurses, and medical researchers. You were the only immunologist on the team. Shortly after the outbreak, all nine of you got together to try to find a cure. You clung to them after you assumed Joel, Sarah, and Tommy were no longer alive.

After your parents were killed, you attempted to drive across town to Joel's house, but the highway was already shut down. You'd also overheard from an officer that Joel's neighborhood was a hot zone full of infected people. You were devastated. You had no family left within a matter of hours.

You last saw her and her band of fireflies in Atlanta about a year ago. She ordered her men to blow up a couple buildings where you and the rest of your group were hiding from FEDRA. You barely escaped with your life. Everyone else who was with you died. Blown to smithereens.

“There is no fuckin’ cure, Tommy.”

“But Joel said—“

“—Well whoever told Joel and Ellie that is a goddamn liar. They’re gonna kill that poor girl and it’ll have been for nothin’.”

Tommy chewed on his lip, pondering your information. He was probably even more worried about his brother now. As he should be. Joel wasn’t safe with the fireflies. No one was.

“Is there any way to contact them?” You asked, still hopeful.

“They’ve been gone for a month, Y/N,” Tommy admitted, hesitancy heavy in his voice, “Joel said they’d come back once they were finished.”

“Hopefully Joel realizes that Ellie will die and they’ll come back.” Maria reasoned, shooting you a small smile.

“This isn’t good.” You exhaled sharply.

Anyway, that was five months ago. You were still with them in Jackson. It was a safe community that actually thrived plus you weren’t going to give up the opportunity to see Joel again.

You were with Tommy in Jackson for almost six months now and still no word from Joel or his whereabouts.

You were starting to get discouraged.

You didn’t know it, but off in the far distance, Joel and Ellie were making their way back to Jackson.

You just needed to hold on just a little while longer.

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potatoesandsunshine · 11 months ago

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ooh good questions! I'm gonna say 1, 2, 10, and 4 for my beloved now is the season of the hunter death <3

thank you hannah!!!! these questions come from this post.

1.What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

this is such a hard question for me and i don’t really feel like i have a good answer!! i guess it depends on what fandom someone was into? and i’m not really a fan of any of my pre-2020 fic anymore (i’m glad it got me where i am as a writer now but it kinda feels like looking back at pictures from middle school; like, loveable cringe?). i guess if fandom wasn’t a factor i’d choose most agitated hands, be my salvation because it feels like it exemplifies what i like to do best, which is turn characters over in my brain and make up activities for them to do. the small jobs series is also a distillation of me at my most Me (coming back to a ten year old video game and insisting that two women should’ve kissed). i know i’ve written so much cr over the years but sometimes i can’t find myself in those stories :(

2.Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

okay skip over the tlovm spoiler tag that’s just in there because i’m trying to finish the oneshots series. i guess that does represent my writing habits lately but it doesn’t represent Me As A Writer. other than that i think this is pretty accurate! the line between angst and light angst is something i often go with my gut on and i do love to write canon divergence AUs. and honestly i like writing about friendship more than i like writing most shippy stuff so i’m glad that’s in there :)

10.How do you decide what to write?

i wait for inspiration and then i stay up really late when it hits. i do not have good writing discipline and i have never managed to get the ‘write every day even if it’s just a hundred words’ habit. because it’s a hobby/for fun, i try really hard not to put too much pressure on myself and just lean into whatever idea feels best at the time. there are a couple things i’m not really interested in writing so it’s easy to stay away from them, but other than that i’ll just write whatever comes to me. i wrote about the elder scrolls: oblivion earlier this year and i’m working on a sequel fic when that game came out in 2006.

4.What detail in now is the season / of the hunter Death are you really proud of?

the fact that any chapters of it ever get finished at all every time anyone references the scars vox machina have left (however inadvertently!) on these characters is a moment i love. kaylie has a scar around her neck and one on her torso from vax killing her and she’s not sure if she’s ‘allowed’ to be mad about it. cassandra is carrying around the arrowheads her sister-in-law sniped her with. and this little moment in chapter three is like a crystallization of these three characters:

kynan looks back in regret, kaylie looks forward with a kind of angry optimism, and cassandra’s trying to figure out who she is in the present moment. it feels kinda cliche but i love it and it’s the guiding star of this fic’s characterization.

#hannah when i write now is the season it is literally JUST for us. and someday i WILL finish it 😤😤😤#answering asks #ask game #thanks again!!!!!!!!!!!

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tailoredshirt · 2 years ago

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you mentioned you don't have any anon asks rn so here i am! :D how do you feel after this ep? i've seen ppl saying that looking back at tarlos' scenes from the previous eps might've been tainted by this – him harbouring this big of a secret to his literal fiancé, of all ppl – and i do get where they're coming from too :(

also, i'm soooOOooOOooO annoyed that tk just brushed it off like that 😭😭 for someone who has been so heavily affected by a) being cheated on (although imo this marriage is more of a desperate need to belong/be loved, knowing that there was no way he'd ever find oor marry the love of his life, and then afterwards, more out of necessity for the health insurance aspect of things) so i don't really count this as cheating, but i understand ppl have diff definitions of it), and constantly having ppl he loved and cared about (re: owen and gwyn) keeping (big, life-changing) secrets from him, i'm trying to make peace with the fact we didn't get more out of that scene. although, i do hope that his need to console and support carlos at that time far outweighs his need to process the news, so that has taken backseat for the time and would probably resurface as we progress further along in the story.

so far, i don't trust anyone or anything that has been said from the actors and writers of the show, so i literally just will be going into the upcoming eps with zero expectations.

Hello!! <3

I pretty much agree with everything you said, I think? I've got a lot of conflicting thoughts that are living side-by-side right now. Like...how I feel about this situation vs. how I feel about it as a plotline vs. how I will treat it going forward. If this was real life, I would agree that it taints their relationship (and that I'd be dumping his ass), but as a plot device I don't find this secret as difficult to reconcile as I would if one of them slept with someone else or had some kind of emotional infidelity. This falls more into 'huge breach of trust' territory than cheating to me, but ymmv.

I think I'm glad for my own tender Tarlos feelings that TK mostly accepted it, because it makes it easier to kinda mentally skip past it if they're not showing a bunch of angst between TK and Carlos onscreen, but like you I do hate how it feels like the narrative is brushing it away (even if I am simultaneously happy that they're doing it??). I dislike the sloppy execution, although there are aspects of the storyline I honestly don't hate? Carlos being married to Iris for the reasons discussed is actually giving me a ton of feelings, and would probably be giving me more if they'd laid a better foundation for their friendship in previous seasons. I keep imagining them as "lost", lonely teenagers and it kills me. Even if I gloss over most of this plotline moving forward, I will take that with me.

But yes, I am hoping they at least acknowledge that Carlos fucked up by not telling TK much sooner! Until then I just imagine that TK's angry/sad reaction is delayed. The spoilers say it will affect them throughout the season, and it would make sense if TK's feelings over Carlos's lack of communication was part of it. They can't go into marriage if Carlos is going to make decisions for them and/or withhold huge things he'd prefer to avoid.

(And yeah, TK having been cheated on and people keeping things from him makes me hugely sad for him. Like...he found the love of his life! This man who kept proving time and again that he loves TK and will be there for him in ways other people haven't. And then...... PSYCH. That's so traumatizing.)

Zero expectations is the way to do it lol. I was driving myself out of my mind with anxiety before the episode aired, and I can't sustain that all season. It's why I'm trying to just go with the flow as much as possible. I am not telling anyone else how to feel. I've dropped shows for doing things I hated. I'm just not at that point with LS and don't want to be.

#I started making notes for a fic but I honestly don't want to write a 'fix-it' conversation for them #I want to write.....other stuff #911 lone star spoilers #sorry for putting more discourse in the tag

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years ago

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!

six months ago...

Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.

But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.

The latch turned and you opened it.

Fuck.

You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.

You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.

You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.

Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.

Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.

He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?

But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.

He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.

Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.

He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.

At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.

But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.

You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.

He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.

“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.

“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.

He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”

“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”

“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”

He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”

“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”

“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”

He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.

"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.

“Something like that,” you mitigated.

His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.

It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.

“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”

He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”

He believed you this time, finally.

For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.

He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)

So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.

Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.

“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.

And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”

Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.

You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.

Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”

Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.

You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.

It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.

He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.

To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.

But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.

six months later...

He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.

“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.

After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.

“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.

“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”

You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.

“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”

“They’re just so… bland!”

“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.

“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”

“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”

“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.

Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.

You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.

There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.

He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?

You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.

“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.

“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.

“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”

It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.

He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.

Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.

After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.

He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

“James.”

It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.

And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”

#sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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nekomawrites · 3 years ago

Text

- strangers

pairing: atsumu x reader

genre: right person, wrong time

cw/tw: time skip stuff, breakups, mild angst, reunited lovers, not beta read we die like real men here

If there was one thing that you knew, it’s that Miya Atsumu would always be a constant in your life. He had a presence that demanded attention, accompanied by a confident smile and eyes that screamed trouble. He isn’t someone that is easy to forget, let alone completely avoid.

You knew this, and you treaded very carefully whenever Atsumu would try his charm with you. During your years at Inarizaki, you made an effort to set boundaries between the two of you, brushing off his attempts at flirting. He’s just like that to everyone, you’d excuse. But at some point, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with Atsumu.

Thinking back on it now, you chuckle at yourself. Your question had been answered, after all. You gave him one chance, and he had never once let you down. Contrary to belief, Atsumu was never a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was a really great one. Attentive and charming, supportive and always proud as hell of your accomplishments. So, what exactly happened?

Time, really. You were pursuing a degree in Tokyo while he was chasing his dream of being a pro volleyball player in Osaka. At first, you both tried to make things work. Yeah, the distance was a pain, but you believed that you could manage. You both were very understanding of each other’s schedules and supportive of each other’s respective dreams, but it became too much. The further you got in your academics and he into his career, the less time you had for each other. Phone calls were scarce, countless date nights rescheduled, and at some point you both had just stopped trying. You were entering your final semester and he had broken out as a star player for MSBY. Your priorities were no longer to each other or your relationship anymore, but to your dreams.

“I think we should break up.” Said Atsumu one night. You were both back home in Hyogo, him having a break in his training and you having just ended your first semester into your third year. Atsumu had prepared for the worst. He was ready for you to be angry and upset, he was ready for you to scream and curse at him and even for you to cry and never want to see him again. But the last thing he expected was for you to agree with him.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” You nod, turning so you face Atsumu, a sad smile on your face. You can see the tears gather in the corner of his eyes, and you’re sure you have your own as well.

“I love ya, y’know?” He says, his voice wavering as he pulls you close to him, his lips finding place on the top of your head. Taking a deep breath, you nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. If anything was true, it was that you both loved each other dearly and that would never change.

“I know.” You reply, savoring the feeling of him. “And I love you, so, so much ‘Tsumu.” He has to choke back a sob at the nickname.

You broke the embrace first, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand as you tried to keep it together. Even though this was amicable, it still didn’t hurt any less. Giving him a watery smile, you lean forward and give him a soft kiss. Atsumu knew you, and he knew what each of your kisses meant. This is the one you’d share whenever you two had to leave each other for a while, only this time it’s permanent. This is you saying goodbye.

“You’re going to go back to Osaka and kill it. You are going to be a household name, Miya Atsumu, I just know it.” Your smile nearly killed him. He didn’t want to break up with you, but he couldn’t keep letting your relationship be put on the back burner. You were it for him, and he had thought that you two would end up together. Maybe in another life, he thought bitterly.

“I’ll see you around, Atsumu. If you’re ever in Tokyo, don’t be a stranger, okay?” Atsumu chuckled. You really were the best person, weren’t you?

“Okay.”

“I don’t care whose fault this is, but it’s a PR nightmare, and I need you to fix it.” You say into your phone.

“Isn’t that your job, kitten?”

You groan, rubbing your temples with your fingers. You could already feel the oncoming headache.

“My job is to make sure all of Japan’s national athletes behave during the next couple of weeks, your’s is to make my life easier.” Pausing, you let out a sigh. “Kuroo, if you could please get this taken care of, I would really appreciate it.” You say softly.

“Enough to go on a date with me?” Asked Kuroo. You could feel him smirking through the phone, and you had half of a mind to strangle him. But before you could chew him out, Kuroo chuckled.

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll get this taken care of. You know I have your back.” You smile, your body relaxing at Kuroo’s reassuring words. Even though he could be an ass about it, Kuroo did always have your back in the toughest of times.

As you bid your goodbyes, you ungracefully flopped back into your chair. If you knew 5 years ago that you’d be managing an entire country’s public image, you probably would’ve had a stroke. Yes, you loved your job. You enjoyed making friends with the most talented athletes in the country. However, they were all children, which made your job infinitely harder. You were, essentially, a glorified babysitter. You are in charge of all of their social media presences, along with monitoring their behavior in the Olympic village and keeping them in line. There was a reason you constantly had a bottle of Tylenol on you, after all.

“Um, [L/N]-san?” Your assistant, Haru, called, poking her head in your office. Turning your chair, you faced your assistant, still in your slumped position.

“Yes?” You ask, not even bothering to sit up.

“Coach Hibarida is here.” She said, causing your to jump up from your unprofessional position. Standing up from your desk, you smoothed out your clothes. Haru gave you a thumbs up before guiding Coach Hibarida into your office.

“Hello, Coach Hibarida, it is so nice to see-” You pause, watching as several people trail right behind him. Well, people would be a bit of a stretch. Greek gods would be a more appropriate description.

“-you.” You finish, trailing off as Haru gives you a panicked expression. You silently dismiss her, giving her a reassuring look.

“I apologize about this [L/N]-san, but I thought it would be best if some of the newer players came to meet you personally.” Hibarida said sheepishly, giving you a polite smile. Withholding the urge to sigh, you nod instead. From your few interactions, Hibarida is a kind man, and he wouldn’t generally impose unless there was an underlying reason. Great, you think. He has troublemakers.

“That does make sense.” You say. Turning towards the athletes, you give them a once over, noting the track suits that all of the athletes wore. Hibarida gave them a look akin to a fatherly scolding, causing them all to stiffen and bow politely. You offer them a bow in return, noting the amount of players in your office.

Seven. There were exactly seven players that would now be added to your “Problem Child” list.

“My name is [L/N], [Y/N], and I am in charge of Japan’s image during the Olympics. Basically, I have to make sure you behave yourselves while you’re here.” You surmised. “If you have any questions, please feel free to ask my assistant, Haru, or myself.” You add, watching the men awkwardly shuffle in front of you.

“Truthfully, all I ask of you is that you stay out of trouble. We don’t need a scandal like Team USA did in Rio.” You say, causing the men in front of you to nod vigorously. God, you would hate to be that person that had to deal with that mess.

“With all of that being said, I will be rooting for all of Team Japan this year and wish you the best of luck on your matches.” You add enthusiastically, giving the athletes a smile. This seemed to break them out of their awkward stupor. The shortest of them, a young man with orange hair and tanned skin, gave you a dazzling grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, [L/N]-san! Thank you for taking care of us!” He said, bowing out of respect. You smiled.

“No need to thank me, I’m just doing my job.” You dismiss. “Let’s make Japan proud, yeah?” The man next to the orange haired kid beamed, pumping his fist in the air and letting out a cheer of excitement. Coach Hibarida gave him a warning look, causing him to stop his mini celebration.

“Thank you, [L/N]-san, we will be going now. I promise that I’ll try and keep these boys under control.” Hibarida assures. You guess that he’s trying to be comforting, but it did little for your nerves. You could tell by the energy that this group of athletes were different than any others you had met, including the skateboarding duo you met the other day.

“It was nice seeing you, Coach Hibarida. Good luck this year and let’s go for the gold.” You encourage, causing a few of the athletes to grin and high five each other. As Coach Hibarida and his athletes started to walk out of your office, you leaned back against your desk, drafting a quick message to Kuroo.

“Ya really made it, huh?” A voice spoke, causing you to jump. Looking up, you were met with a familiar face. His hair was styled a bit different and you could tell that he was starting to actually use toner, but you would never forget him even if you wanted to.

“Yeah, it seems I did.” You say, glancing over Atsumu’s appearance. His facial features were more defined, sharper even, and you could tell even underneath the standard track suit that he was even more muscular than the last time you saw him (which was unfortunately the night of your breakup 5 years ago). But his eyes, they still had that glimmer of well earned confidence and mischievousness. It was still Miya Atsumu, just a few years older.

“Looks like you made it too.” You say lightheartedly, hoping to ease the tension. “I mean, the Olympics. It doesn’t get much better than that, right?” You say, but Atsumu just looks at you with that soft expression of his. It’s the same one that always made you weak in the knees. If only you knew what was going through his mind right now, then you’d know that he regrets breaking up with you, he regrets not trying more, he regrets not having you with him. Most importantly, he misses you. Not the idea of you, or even the support you gave him, but you.

“I think you should go, Atsumu. Your team is probably looking for you and I have a meeting with another coach soon.” You say, shifting uncomfortably underneath his gaze.

“I still love ya.” He says. It’s not an impulsive thing or even nostalgia, Atsumu is stating what he feels. His confession makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach twist all at once. You could cry but also punch him in the face. That’s just what he does to you, that’s the affect he has always had on you. And even if you wanted to, you could never hate him for it.

“What are you doing to me?” You whisper, looking towards the ceiling as if you’d find an answer. A million thoughts started racing through your mind. Why now? You were never one to believe in fate, but you did believe in Atsumu. You always have, even now. Sensing your apprehension, Atsumu walks towards you. He can see just how much you’ve changed within the past several years. You’re still the same person that he loves, but God damn did time do you justice.

“Tellin’ ya that I’m a damn fool.” He chuckles, his face now just inches away from your’s. “And maybe, earnin’ a date?” He says, cupping your face so you now looked at him. You had to suppress a shiver underneath his gaze. Even though you’re definitely tough, there was just something about Atsumu that made you weak in the knees, even now.

“We’re here to work, Atsumu.” You remind him, making him pout. You chuckled, resisting the urge to tease him for his childish behavior

“How ‘bout this: I get a service ace in the first match, then I come over to yer place.” He offered, flashing you a small smirk. You roll your eyes at him, but smile nonetheless.

“Fine.” Atsumu has the brightest smile on his face, and he has to hold back from picking you up and kissing you. You have no idea why you agreed to his childish deal. Maybe it’s because you know that, deep in your heart, Miya Atsumu will always be your person. Try as you might, you two will always find your way back to each other.

“But after your match on the court,” You start, leaning forward so your lips were right by his ear.

“You should be ready for a match of our own.”

#miya atsumu #atsumu #atsumu x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#msby #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader

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bokutosworld · 3 years ago

Text

the moment they knew | ushijima, daichi, bokuto

characters: hq captains (ushijima, daichi, bokuto) with gn!reader words, genre: 1.5k words, fluff + slight angst. warnings: none! summary: in love, there’s a moment where everything falls into place and you realize that there’s no one else you’d rather spend forever with. | part one (with oikawa, kuroo, kita)

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI;

admittedly, ushijima is not the best at relationships

but you brought out sides of him that he didn’t know even existed

and because he’s so in love with you, he finds himself looking for ways to surprise you

he doesn’t hesitate to try new things because all he wants is to make you happy in the way you make him complete

When Ushijima comes home, the first thing he notices is the other pair of shoes sitting by the entranceway. He smiles as he walks all the way to the kitchen where he heard a commotion.

Though your back was turned to him, seeing you in his apartment instantly relieved him of his exhaustion for the day. He hurriedly goes over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you to his chest.

“Wakatoshi,” you turn your head back and give him a peck on his cheeks. “Welcome home.”

He shows you one of his rare smiles and reciprocates your kiss with his own. “Thank you, love.” He rests his chin on your shoulders and watches you quietly as you prep the ingredients.

“Do you want to help cook?” You were already expecting him to just hum and leave you to the dishes while he sets up the plates. So it was a genuine surprise when his hands left your body and retrieved the apron (it was a matching set to the one you were wearing) from one of the drawers.

He silently took his place by your side, and took the cutting board and the knife from your hands. You watched in awe as he skillfully sliced the onions in perfect shape.

“Do you need me to cut the carrots too?” You hadn’t noticed that he’s finished until you heard his voice close in your ears. That night, the two of you cooked together for the first time and there was something so intimate and so special about it.

“This feels nice,” you commented as Ushijima now worked on slicing the raw chicken fillet. “I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”

“I’ve been practicing.” His answer surprises you. You can’t help but imagine him watching cooking tutorials and the thought makes you smile.

“Really? And what exactly motivated you to learn how to cook?”

Ushijima stops and turns to you with the warmest look in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t want you to do all the cooking in the future.” He grasps and kisses the back of your hands. “I wouldn’t be doing my job as your partner if you don’t let me serve you too.”

You don’t know which of the two takes your breath away—the way he looked when he said those words or the indirect proposal he just made. Either way, you were already looking forward to the future he’d just proclaimed.

SAWAMURA DAICHI;

your friends always said that daichi seems like the type of guy you’d bring to meet your parents

they weren’t wrong. he was the best partner anyone could ever ask for

you often find yourself wondering if marriage was ever on his mind

what you don’t know is that daichi had been carrying a ring box everyday since college graduation, just waiting for the right moment

Daichi clutches the material of his coat, hugging his body tighter as he stood and waited in front of your office building. He spots you walking with a friend and his lips curl upward into a smile. When you turn to look his way, he feels like a giddy high school boy as his heart skips a beat at the eye contact.

You bid your friend goodbye and run towards his waiting arms. He grunts when you throw yourself at him, laughing as you relax in his hold and he runs his hands over your back.

“You worked hard today. Shall we get your comfort food or do you want me to cook at home and prepare you a hot bath?”

You smile as you consider your options. “I like the sound of the second option.”

He takes your hands and brings it to his lips to plant a soft kiss along your knuckles. “Let’s head home then.”

The two of you begin a silent walk to your apartment complex. Lately, he’s been busy with his police work that he’s rarely had the time to stop by You take a glance at him, trying to remember as much of his face for as long as you can. Because you never know when he’d ever have the luxury of spending time with you like this.

He notices you staring, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. I just missed you.” You mutter. “Work has been keeping you too busy. It’s like you’re married to your job and I’m just your side piece.”

He laughs loudly that other passersby have turned to look your way. He says nothing, only squeezing your hands and looks at you with a glint in his eyes.

When the two of you arrived at your apartment, you made a beeline to the living room and planted yourself on the couch. You heard footsteps nearing and stopping at the side of the sofa.

Daichi had kneeled beside your position, his face inches away from yours when he calls your name. At the sound of his voice, you open an eye and see him holding out a ring in front of you. You sit up immediately, mouth hanging open as you search for the words to say but he beats you to it.

“You said earlier that you feel like I’m married to my job, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that but,” he pauses to stop the tears that threatened to fall. “But my job can’t compare to you. At the end of the day, I’ll leave work and come home to you.”

You’re both crying messes when Daichi takes your hand and positions the ring on your fourth finger. “Will you marry me?” Of course, you said yes.

BOKUTO KOTARO;

bokuto loves with his whole heart and he treasures you like you’re his world

your steadfast feelings made him confident and assured

but whenever a fight breaks between the two of you, his resolve always crumbles

when he realizes that nothing scares him more than the fact that he could lose you, that’s when he makes a promise

When Bokuto wakes up, he instinctively reaches for the other side of his bed and his heart drops when he feels nothing. He jolts up, eyes frantically searching his room for any sign that last night was not a dream.

He’s getting ready to stand up when the door opens and he sees you enter the room with a tray of breakfast in your hands. He scrambles on his feet and you’re surprised when he takes the food and places it on his desk before his arms make their way to hug you.

“I thought you’d left me again,” he mumbles in your neck. When you wrap your arms around him, Bokuto sighs and sinks further into the embrace. “I’m really sorry.”

It all started because of a petty fight. The two of you had been so busy with your own work that neither of you had time for each other. But the one time you’d both been home at the same time only resulted in an argument that led to you giving him the silent treatment for three weeks.

And those weeks were like hell for Bokuto. After that fight, he’d immediately realized his mistake and he’d called and messaged you but to no avail. Last night, you’d finally returned and Bokuto was more than relieved to see you.

“Let’s not fight ever again.” He looks at you with pleading eyes. “It was stupid of me to blame you for not having time for me when I’ve also been so occupied.”

“Bokuto…” You cup his cheeks and he closes his eyes as your hand gently caresses his face. “I’m sorry too. And I promise I’ll never disappear on you again.”

If there was one thing that he’d realized during the time when you were away, it’s that he could never live without you. He also couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your hurt and pain so he makes a promise.

He leans so close that you could hear the drumming of his heart. “I’ll never do anything to make you sad again. When we first got together, I told you that I’d only make you happy.”

You smile as you remember that moment when he’d asked you to be his. It was one of the best days of his and your life.

“And that’s what I’ll do from now and for the rest of our lives.” He’s inching closer and closer, your lips just a few millimeters away until you say something.

“What you said just now sounds like a wedding vow.”

He laughs, surprising you when he turns and plops down with you on the bed. He’s hovering above you playfully, “Baby, wait until you hear the rest of it.”

—

📝: @markysaurs (send an ask if you want to be included in my taglist!)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #hqcorenet #haikyuucreations #haikyuucafe #ushijima x reader #daichi x reader #bokuto x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #hq headcanons #hq x you #haikyuu x you #this got way longer than i originally intended hehe #also i am having writer's block my wips are rotting XD

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my-tin-can-mans · 3 years ago

Text

She Knows Part 2, (Wolffe x Reader)

OH BOY. First I'm sorry this took me so long I've been busy with college. But! this is the longest fic or anything really I've written so wow. Hopefully you enjoy.

Warnings: angst, mentions of Alcohol, mentions of cheating slight smut (minors do not interact or read).

Note: italics are flashbacks

“So, what do you usually do during leave?” the question threw you a little of guard. You’d been stationed with the 501st for four months now, four months since you’d broke it off with Wolffe after… everything. You had been the head medic in the 104th battalion, but quickly put in a request for a transfer after the humiliation Wolffe had put you through. The only position available was with the 501st, working under their head medic, Kix. It was a demotion sure, but honestly it took a lot of stress of your shoulders and well, anything to get away from the situation you were in.

Working with Kix almost 24/7 forced you two to grow close and form a close relationship. It was more of a brotherly/sisterly love than anything else, though others saw how well you two had worked together and insisted you would make a good couple, you both were comfortable where you were, which you were grateful for, it was nice to have a friend as kind and understanding as Kix.

Tomorrow the whole battalion would be stationed on Coruscant, the general had some jedi duties to attends to and the war was at a standstill for the moment, giving the men time to relax instead of being thrown under another general for a while.

You had been checking bacta supplies when Kix happened to spring this question on you. Freezing your hand in motion as you had begun to type up an order to restock while planet side. You’d never actually had a leave without Wolffe. Most of the time on leave was spent in that dark corner of 79’s, the other half in a hotel bed.

“Mesh’la, come on, up. I promised the men we’d meet them tonight for a round.”

“But I don’t wanna go Wolffe can’t we just stay here? The sheets are so soft and I don’t feel like wearing clothes.” You’d whined.

“I already told them we would be there, now come up before I drag you out of bed.”

“you wouldn’t,” you peeked your head out from under the covers, narrowing you eyes at him, he stood at the foot of the bed, wearing his blacks sans shirt. He himself had just untangled from you and the sheets. How he had the willpower to do so you had no clue. He dawned his famous predatory smirk on his face

“Are you questioning my word Mesh’la, because you know I always keep my word.” He took a step forward, his thighs now touching the mattress.

“of course not Wolffe,” you gave him a sweet smile, “but I bet I could change your mind.”

“oh?” he raised an eyebrow. “do tell.” He placed his hand on either side of your feet, leaning over the bed

“why don’t you come up here and find out.”

With one swift move Wolffe was on top of you now and you brought your hands to his face pulling him in and kissing him, it was rough and passionate, you really didn’t want to leave and you wanted him to know that, hoping he would see how desperate you were and decide to stay. But after a few moments he pulled back, looking down at you with that damn smirk again, “that was quite convincing.”

Before you could retort anything Wolffe had left from his position on top of you, yanking you up to your feet in the process, “but unfortunately like a said before, I am a man of my word and I already gave it to my brothers, sorry mesh’la but you’ll have to show me your negotiating skills another time, I promise ill make up for it.”

“To be honest Kix I’ve never really done much with my leave time, ya know? I just kinda destress and go out every once in a while.”

“Oh? Well do you have any plans for our first night off then? Me and a couple of the boys are gonna be at 79’s if you’d like to join.”

The mention of 79’s made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t been back there since you’d found out about Wolffe. “I don’t know Kix,” you sighed, 79’s was a clone bar, and also a favorite hangout spot for the man you had been trying to forget about.

“oh come on, you think Jesse’s a horrible flirt now, just wait till you see him drunk, you’ll be laughing so hard your stomach will be sore in the morning.”

You snorted a laugh in response, Jesse and you were also pretty close, but he was notorious for always trying out stupid pick-up lines on you, he took every opportunity he could to flirt with you, even when he had gotten injured and you were stitching him up, “you look so pretty when your concentrated.” He had said.

But the issue at hand still itched in the back of your mind, what if Wolffe was there? Going back to your holopad, typing up the order you were previously working on to make yourself seem less concerned about your next question you asked him, “the 104th isn’t on leave right now are they?”

“no I don’t think so, why?” Kix had since turned around focusing on organizing medical supplies to help you order.

“Nothing, just, ya know making sure.” You’d told Kix about what happened between you and Wolffe. Just about every clone knew you two were dating, Wolffe always had to make it known you were his. So Obviously everyone was curious as to what had happened.

He turned and looked at you, realizing what you meant, “Oh Kriff, this is your first leave without him isn’t it?”

You nodded, too afraid, after months of finally getting yourself together you didn’t want to revert back to breaking down again.

“Hey listen, if you don’t want to be there I understand. But maybe it would help ya know? We’ll all be wasted you’ll totally forget about him I promise we’ll have a good time.”

It was very convincing, you’d seen the 501stparty and 79’s before, they went hard, unlike Wolffe who was usually more private and reserved. That didn’t mean you two still didn’t have fun in your own way on leave.

Much to your dismay you’d put on a dress and Wolffe had dragged you to 79’s anyways. The second you’d stepped into the place the music and dark lighting consumed you. It was loud tonight. The 501st was celebrating a successful occupy over a separatist world and you could tell. The blue armor was spread throughout the crowd, some at the bar hitting on the women already occupying it, and some on the dance floor.

You wished Wolffe danced more with you, you loved to dance but he only ever accompanied you once, and that was after a drinking competition with Thorne who was hard to beat. He didn’t even remember it in the morning.

Without a second glance to all the men, Wolffe grabbed your wrist and led you back to the booth he always sat at. Instead of the usual commanders, Sinker and Boost sat there awaiting their commanders arrival after being promised a drink with him. You slid into the booth and Wolffe sat right up against you.

He was broad so he took up most of the space, he always presented himself in such a way that he was always there, chest puffed out, shoulders broadened and head held high. When he got situated he spread his legs, taking up more space and knocked his with yours. The two of you practically sat in each other’s lap with how close you were to each other. he placed his hand on your thigh, resting just below the sundress you and reluctantly put on earlier.

It was a last resort to get him to stay in with you. It was his favorite. The first time he saw you in it he’d practically kneeled before you, although you were sure he was just trying to get a peak underneath.

Four shots were already at the table when you two had arrived and Sinker, who was sitting in front of you, had passed one your way while Wolffe grabbed his own downing it without even flinching.

As the night drove on, the men began to become tipsy and Wolffe’s hand grew higher and higher. It was when Boost was at the climax of telling you a story from before you had signed on with them that Wolffe finally breeched your center, rubbing his index finger over the already wet spot in your panties.

You jumped, not expecting him to be so bold as to touch you in front of his men. You turned to look at him but he was looking straight on at Boost, absolutely engrossed in the story he was telling. Without making eye contact he leaned over, giving you a small peck on your temple, while at the same time, he pushed you underwear over to the side and slipped a finger into you.

His face was flushed, from the alcohol or the devious act he was performing you couldn’t tell. It was probably a mix of both. Wolffe rarely showed PDA in public especially in front of him men. So you were practically in shock with what was happening right now.

You went to grab a sip of your drink while he slowly pumped his finger a few times before deciding to add another. You let out a chocking noise.

“Hey you okay?” Sinker seemed concerned at your reaction.

“Yeah, yeah just fine, drink must’ve gone down the wrong piper there” you tried to play it off.

He bought it just fine, resuming the conversation that had started up after Boost’s story. When you turned to look at Wolffe again he was wearing that shit eating grin he often dawned and maker you wanted to wipe it clean off.

When Sinker and Boost were distracted enough, Wolffe leaned into you, “come on now mesh’la, I did say I'd make it up to you, and as I recall we’ve already proved I’m a man of my words.”

“Well I guess a few drinks wouldn’t hurt.” You thought back to all the times you’d seen blue armor on the dance floor and envied the fact you hadn’t been there as well, “but I better get a couple of dances out of you guys”

Kix chuckled, “I can promise you, if you stop by for long enough those men will be fighting over who gets to dance with you next.”

You bellowed out a laugh at that. The thought of Jesse, tup and the rest fighting over you was quite the scenario. “Just comm me what time you boys are gonna be there at.”

He nodded his head in agreement, both of you chatting lightly about other topics as you finished the order.

****************************************************

The ship had landed a few hours ago, longing for a good night’s sleep you had left the barracks for the stay, packing up your necessities and checking into a hotel a few blocks out of the main traffic for some peace and quiet.

As you were getting ready for your night at 79’s Kix had sent you a comm message, letting you know they were on their way and would be arriving in 10 minutes. All you had left to do was dress yourself. You rummaged through the bag of clothes you had. It wasn’t much, mostly GAR issued scrubs and a few dresses. You heart stopped when you saw the dress though. The one that was always Wolffe’s favorite. You picked it out, holding it up so you could see the whole thing.

Kriff. This dress brought back so many memories. It almost hurt to look at it. if you were being completely honest with yourself though, you did look damn good in it. screw it you thought. Time to make better memories in it.

After you slipped the dress on you hailed an air taxi to 79’s once inside you scanned the bar, looking for the men who were going to take up your evening. You spotted them at the bar ordering drinks and from the looks of it Jesse was already on his shit and flirting with the bartender.

You walked up to them and their heads turned. Jesse let out a whistle, “Damn, look at you! If I didn’t know any better I'd say you were trying to entice me.”

Kix shook his head at that. Putting his face into his palm. Tup who happened to be standing beside Jesse elbowed him to which Jesse frowned at. “Could you not flirt with my favorite medic?” he turned to you, “you look nice by the way, but not in a creepy I want to get with you way like he meant.”

You let out a giggle. You were already having a great time and you hadn’t even been in the building for five minutes. You took a seat at the bar between Kix and Jesse, Tup to the other side of him.

As the night ticked by you happened to get pretty tipsy, never getting truly drunk for fear you couldn’t make it back to your hotel safely. The men held their alcohol well though and although they were drinking twice as much, they were probably the same level intoxicated as you were. You all stayed at the bar, cracking jokes and telling insane stories, often Jesse would flirt with you or the bartender but it wasn’t too much and you both welcomed the light heartedness attention he gave.

An hour in you heard a voice behind you, “Hope I didn’t miss too much.” You swiveled in the bar seat, turning around to be face to face with the captain of the 501st.

“Captain!” Kix exclaimed, “what took you so long?”

“Sorry boys had a few reports I needed to fill out before the night ended.”

“Well, were glad you here now.” You said.

You got up to give the captain a hug. Something you defiantly wouldn’t do sober, but the alcohol had given you a little confidence. Rex looked surprised by the affection but embraced you anyways. He leaned down and you put your chin over his shoulder patting him on the back staying like that for a second.

It was then that you wished you hadn’t hugged Rex, hadn’t drank as much to give you a confidence boost, and hadn’t stepped a foot in this maker forsaken bar again.

He sat there, in the seat he always sat in when he came here. Only this time he wasn’t with any of his troopers or the other commanders. This time he was with another girl. She was a purple Twi'lek and she was drop dead gorgeous. And the dress she was wearing, or lack thereof because of how tiny it was , made you look like you had just picked yours straight out of the garbage. And you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was that her?

“Kriff Wolffe, what the actual Kriff!” you screamed, you didn’t care about the other guests in the hotel, you were so mad you were practically seeing stars.

“I'm sorry mesh’la I'm sorry I'm so so sorry.”

“No. No! don’t you dare call me that right now. I can’t – I don’t even have words for you right now.”

“please, please let me explain,”

You whipped you head around to him, seeing a whole new layer of red. “Explain? What is there to explain Wolffe. You cheated on me then proceeded to not tell me while apparently everyone else knew and I found out through one of your brothers! Isn’t that enough of an explanation.”

You sat down on the bed, head in hands. He kneeled down in front of your feet. Placing his hands atop of your knees. “I'm sorry.” He whispered. You slapped his hands off you, the thought of him touching you after another woman practically revolted you.

“you already said that.”

“I know, and I mean it I am, it was a mistake, I- if I could take it back I would, Maker I- I hate myself for letting it happen.”

“you should hate yourself.”

“I do, I do. Please, tell me what I can do to make this better.”

For a man who was supposed to be well tactical he kept making all the wrong moves.

“Wolffe there is no making this better. What’s done is done and now it's time to move on.” you finally made your decision, after debating back and forth in the air cab on how to react.

“Yes of course let’s move on, it was in the past but I love you Mesh’la I want you that’s all.”

Kriff that’s not what you meant. “No Wolffe, I mean I’m moving on. from you. I- I can’t continue to be with someone who has done what you’ve done. It's- it's not fair to me.”

By this point tears were strolling down your face. You turned your head to wipe them, not wanting him to see how much he had broke you. “no, no please I- I love you please we can fix this we can work this out please just stay I- I need you.”

“I love you too Wolffe, but there is no fixing this. I loved you so much that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I gave you everything thing, I gave you all of me and you took that and you stomped on it, you might as well of placed my heart in a dumpster and set it on fire.”

He put his head in your lap. A single tear rolling down his face. “please, please don’t go, I'm so sorry.”

“I know Wolffe. But I can’t accept your apology.”

Your head was pounding. He wasn’t supposed to be on Coruscant right now. Kix had said so himself. You pulled back from Rex. He placed his hands on your shoulders his face blocking the view of him. He smiled warmly but his expression quickly changed when he saw yours.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost” he joked.

But you facial expression didn’t lighten, in fact it only got worse. With every waking second, every harsh beat of whatever hit song was playing over the speakers you drew yourself inwards more and more.

“hey hey what wrong?” Kix had left his seat at the bar quickly coming to your side. Him and Rex both dawned a look of concern.

“You said he wouldn’t be here.” You turned to Kix, channeling you emotions onto him.

He looked confused at first, but the realization hit him and he turned his head to look over Rex’s shoulder. Rex followed his line of vision and they both saw him. Sitting there in the booth, while the woman clung to him, practically in his lap.

She was kissing his neck, which honestly surprised you, Wolffe was never one for public displays of affection. Or maybe that was just with you. Because he seemed to be enjoying this.

Rex turned around to face you again, a look of panic and empathy on his face, “Kriff I'm so sorry I- he was on a solo mission with General Koon and they’re stationed here for the night so I told him I’d be here. I'm so sorry, it was an honest mistake.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that from a man in this room.

You felt like the whole room was spinning, be that the alcohol or the nervousness and upset that came with seeing him again you weren’t sure. All the men you had come here with were suddenly surrounding you with sympathetic looks and it felt like someone had placed a spotlight on you and you just wanted it to go away.

This night was meant to help you forget him, be happy and have fun with your new assigned battalion. Kriff was the so much to ask for!

“hey hey come on now,” Jesse finally broke the silence, “forget about him! If I remember correctly I promised you a dance earlier?”

This made you finally break out of your trance. You needed a distraction, and had been waiting for someone to dance with all night.

“actually I would love to Jesse.”

“right this way then”

He held out his hand for you and took you to the dance floor. The song that was playing was loud and upbeat, you and Jesse moved together to the beat, it was fun and you really enjoyed it, when the beat of the song dropped everyone on the dance floor was jumping to it, you and Jesse did the same

When the song stopped, you were practically out of breath, you let out a laugh of relief, actually feeling a little better. You looked up are Jesse and he was smiling at you.

“Feeling better, huh?” he asked.

“A little, thank you.”

A few second later another song had come on. This time it was more slow, the partners on the dance floor started to grab each other.

Jesse grabbed your waist. “Come on huh? let’s give that son of a blaster something to look at, plus this might be the only time I get to be this close to you, despite my attempts” he smirked at you.

You nodded your head, letting out a giggle at his lame excuse to flirt with you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pulled you in closer, your chest practically touching his. And finally you both started to sway to the beat.

A few seconds in Jesse started rubbing his thumbs on your hips, trying to calm your nerves, and it worked. Caught up in the music you started to lightly grind your hips into his, although it was soft guarded by his armor, he still took notice to it. smirking at you and grinding in time with you. His hands started to rise, growing closer and closer to under your breasts, but never reaching, knowing he would be crossing a line, and although Jesse was a flirt, his last intention was to make anyone uncomfortable.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel his breathe on your skin, and his nose rubbing up and down. He placed a soft his on your shoulder and the next thing you knew you were being turned around. His hand were back on your waits, but his cheat was now pressed up against your back. He gave you a harsh grind into your ass and you gasped. His arms now wrapping around you, pulling you impossibly tight into him. His head resumed its spot into your neck.

“is this okay,” he whispered into your ear.

“yeah.” You breathed. He kissed you neck this time. but it was just one short one, it was slow, and hot, you closed your eyes. he placed them all the way up your neck, all the way up to your jaw. All the way close to your mouth, and he whispered again, is this okay.

You nodded your head, eyes still closed and you turned you head towards him a little encouraging him. And his lips met yours.

You hadn’t kissed very many people. Wolffe giving you the majority of your experience. and although they were clones, they felt completely different. When Wolffe used to kiss you he practically stole your breath, he put everything he had into kissing you, and it was almost always hot and it made your insides flip, no matter how many times he kissed you, you always felt dizzy and perfectly happy, like his kissed could cure any problemed you had. To say Jesse was a bad kisser would be a lie, it was a good kiss, but it almost made you feel the opposite, all you could think about was Wolffe.

And when the song ended and you opened your eyes you were facing him again. Him. And he was sitting there with his lounge practically down the woman’s throat. And it hurt, hurt to know that he didn’t even acknowledge you. Hadn’t even cared that the person he once begged to stay with was with someone else now. Even though you weren’t actually. It hurt that he used to kiss you like that and now he was kissing someone else like that.

you weren’t sure if it was the beginning of the next song, or if your head was going fuzzy, but all you could hear was ringing in your ears. Jesse had unwrapped his hands from around you and the moment he did you sprang towards the doors of 79’s.

you heard the faint sounds of Jesse, rex and Kix calling out for you but you couldn’t be bothered to hear what any of them had to say. You left the building and walked a few blocks. Finally coming across an empty alley. You pressed you back against the cool metal of the building you were beside and let out a breathe. The air was cool and crisp against your skin, but it felt good.

After all the time you spent forgetting about him you were practically back at square one. And it pissed you off. How dare he have this effect on you.

You let out a sigh, gathering your emotions. And when you finally felt calm enough you went to comm Kix, letting him know you’d be going back to your hotel for the rest of the night, but you were interrupted.

“Mesh’la.”

ending notes: soooo, im not sure if im gonna do another part on this or not, i have some ideas for other fics but im kinda cramped on time at the moment so we shall see.

Tags

@fandom-garbage @dionysuskid21

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #the wolfpack #wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x you #tcw #clone wars #starwars #starwars x reader #the clone wars fic #fan fic #my fic #star wars the clone wars #clone wars x reader #the clone wars #clone wars fic #cc 3636

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venusiangguk · 3 years ago

Note

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ‘I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

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teklarn · 3 years ago

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - -

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention?

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.)

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely.

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed.

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end.

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended.

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right?

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting?

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care?

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for.

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating.

“you’re staring again.”

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything.

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard.

“so it makes you look creepy.”

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.”

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?”

“excuse me?”

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.”

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics.

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.”

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.”

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though?

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur.

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again.

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out.

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance.

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him.

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n.

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music.

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them.

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all.

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance.

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile.

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red.

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place.

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.)

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time.

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape.

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up.

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up.

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging.

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder.

he swung the door open, hinges crying out.

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted.

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.”

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?”

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-”

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?”

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-”

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?”

“no. shut up. i need to-”

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?”

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?”

“well, you’re just being shitty.”

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them.

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.”

“no.”

“please?”

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-”

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?”

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips.

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.”

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place.

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?”

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back.

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.”

“who the hell are you talking about?”

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.”

“...y/n?”

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?”

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.”

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.”

“shithead, get out of my face.”

“you still have to go out with me.”

“why the f-”

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.”

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?”

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s.

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets.

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door.

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone.

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible.

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin.

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more.

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room.

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways.

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them.

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through.

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer.

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him.

“you okay?”

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?”

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?”

“nothing. nothing is wrong.”

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.”

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin.

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along.

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?”

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.”

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.”

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?”

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder.

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable.

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy.

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring.

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve.

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough.

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage.

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry.

“just running errands together.”

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage?

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space.

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue.

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist.

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back.

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.”

“good.”

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual.

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone with a perspective like yours to know if i do.”

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.”

tokage let out a low growl.

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.”

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from?

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.”

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close.

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes.

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this.

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?”

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw.

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.”

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face.

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.”

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.”

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1kook · 4 years ago

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card swiped (2)

→ jeon jungkook x (f) reader

→ How was he, a virgin, supposed to casually take his best friend’s virginity when he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with said best friend? GENRE eventual smut, minor angst WARNINGS mentions of porn, mentions of sex, mentions of dicks, just jk having dumb thoughts tbh OTHER volleyball player jk, student council pres oc, childhood friends to lovers, besties to lovers, realization of crushes, there is one (1) cheek kiss 😐 RATING m (18+) WC 1.3k

NOTES (!) i did a follow up!!! this is rlly easy bc its like. dumb. the storyline is p simple so its become therapeutic 😐 anywayyy lemme know what u think !!

[ masterlist ]

The first step to initiating sex is a kiss— right?

Jungkook doesn’t even know anymore. All the porns he’s seen start at weird points in the progression, the first kiss somewhere between when the clothing comes off and when the penis holder shoves their cock in. Did he kiss you now, or was he supposed to wait?

That is, can Jungkook even muster the balls to kiss you?

He doesn’t know, and when he sits up in front of you, knees against yours, does he come to a new shocking realization: the two of you have never kissed. For as long as Jungkook has known you, there has never been a kiss shared between you two. Not a single experimental phase, surprise mistletoe, not even a dare. Jungkook and you have never kissed, so it only makes sense that the idea of kissing right now has him pausing before he can even try.

“Uh,” he says, all his years of grammar classes running down the drain when you sit up perkily, a gleam of excitement in your eye. “Tomorrow,” Jungkook chokes out, hurriedly bouncing off your bed before you can even process his words.

By the time you��ve gotten up, he’s standing at the door with his bag slung over one shoulder, foot shoved into his shoe. “You’re leaving?” you ask, and scare the living daylights out of Jungkook when you suddenly reach for the sleeve of his shirt, successfully halting his hasty departure with one gentle tug alone.

Jungkook’s face feels like it’ll burn up at this rate, and his brain screams at him to stop being so weird. You were his best friend, for goodness sake, something like this was bound to happen at some point or another. Right? His heart thunders in his chest, and when your eyes soften for the briefest moment, warm and familiar again, Jungkook relaxes.

“I have practice,” he says casually, tugging the strap of his bag further over his shoulder. Inside, his shoes are shuffled around with his water bottle and practice clothes. “We need more than an hour to do that kind of stuff,” he jokes, but Jungkook isn’t even sure if what he’s saying is true. When that girl had jacked him off at that party—you know, the party—he can’t remember it lasting more than fifteen minutes. To be fair, it had been the first time someone had ever touched him, so maybe it was just because of his inexperience.

And that brings him back to the same dilemma: how on earth is he supposed to rock your world when he’s never even had sex before?

Before Jungkook can dissolve into a self-induced puddle of panic, you’re letting him go. “Okay,” you say, always so sweet and understanding. You had to be if you were the president of the whatever-council (he’s pretty sure it’s the student council). It should be Jungkook who is this composed, not you. It should be Jungkook who leans forward, presses his lips against your cheek— not you!

But as it stands, it is you who leans forward, soft lips pressed flush against his cheek, only an inch away from his lips. Your proximity has the overwhelming scent of, well, you fanning over him; fabric softener, lotion, perfume, all of it. “Oh,” Jungkook says, sounding like a total dweeb. The departure of your lips from his skin produces a soft smooching sound, straight from the movies, and Jungkook’s heart lodges itself into his throat when you meet his gaze with a sweet smile.

And then the door is falling shut and Jungkook is bolting down the hallway, through the campus, and into the gym. He looks and feels insane, the emptiness of the gymnasium a blatant reminder that he was in fact a little too early. Serves him right for chickening out. But a second longer in your presence and he’s almost certain he would have died from heart complications.

It’s only when he stares out over the gymnasium floor, devoid of any human life, that the gravity of his actions truly hit him. And they hit him hard. Like a city bus skidding across an icy road towards an intersection, Jungkook is suddenly hit full force with the stark realization that he has just prepositioned his friend of nearly fifteen years for sex. While being a virgin.

“God,” he groans, throwing his bag against the nearest wall. It hits it with a dull thud, sliding down to the floor sadly. Jungkook follows.

It would be nice to have some common sense every once in a while, to actually use the brain lodged up in his head. Why on earth had he thought offering himself up for sex to you, of all people, would be something easy? Sure, Jungkook as a virgin had some expectations of what sex would be like; deep down inside, he’s always known it won’t be exactly like in porn, there would be some disappointing things and some absolutely amazing things. But those were his own expectations to bear, the end results something that personally wouldn’t weigh down on him too much.

But now… now Jungkook will have to come face to face with your expectations, that of which he absolutely can’t let down. What if you think his dick is small? What if cums too soon? What if you can’t get turned on by him? What if, at the end of it all, you don’t want to be Jungkook’s friend anymore?

The last thought has him sullenly sinking down further against the wall, chin pressed to his chest, as he mulls over any potential options. It would be weird (at least in Jungkook’s mind) to call it off now, especially after seeing how excited you’d gotten. As your best friend, Jungkook lived by an unspoken, strict code of conduct, that of which dictated that promises between best friends were not meant to be broken. It was the highest offense.

But how was Jungkook supposed to rock your virgin world if he was a virgin?

Faintly, he can still feel your puckered lips pressed against his cheek, and he mindlessly raises a hand up to brush his fingers against the skin. It makes him blush, remembering that sweet gaze you’d looked at him with. It’s the same one you used to give him when you were younger, the slightly proud, really content gaze whenever he did his homework before coming over, when he won a game against your rival middle school, when he first walked into a Victoria’s Secret with you when you were both sixteen. “You’re doing amazing, Koo,” you always teased and giggled, the sound gradually mellowing out over the years.

Just a couple weeks ago he remembers hearing the sound from the bottom of a ladder, dragged into decorating the student center with you for the new school year straight out of practice. He had been tired, so absolutely drained from the drills that day, but it was impossible to say no when you had caught him across the student center, eyes lighting up at the mere sight of Jungkook’s sweaty form.

“I’m running for student president this year,” you had told him (so it was the student council), the tall windows that lined the building’s walls allowing a ray of sunlight to settle down over you. It had made Jungkook halt for a second, heartbeat skipping one dangerous beat when you descended down, placed a hand on his shoulder the closer you got. “Vote for me, please?”

“Yeah,” he had breathed, felt like the entire world was too small to fit the growing feeling in his chest.

And it’s with that memory that Jungkook reaches his third and final realization of the afternoon, an accumulation of all the prior ones: how was he, a virgin, supposed to casually take his best friend’s virginity when he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with said best friend?

“Oh… fuck,” he groans, slumping down until he’s practically sprawled over the floor, startling Namjoon and Jimin as they enter the gymnasium. Jimin scolds him for scaring them, but Jungkook is so deep in his wallowing that he barely hears.

He was in trouble.

#jungkook smut #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #jeon jungkook smut #jjk fic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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triptuckers · 3 years ago

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Nightmares - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes! “My favorite writer is accepting requests again? Love that for me (and everyone else who gets to read your writing) So I had this idea if that’s okay where like the reader and Kaz are dating but they’re still sleeping in separate rooms because Kaz isn’t quite there yet in overcoming his trauma to share a bed. And then one night he hears screams coming out off your room so he goes to you as fast as possible but turns out it was just because you had a nightmare and then how Kaz would deal with that in terms of comforting? Hopefully this is something that you’re okay with writing but no problems if not because I’ll still look forward to your other stories 💗” Pairing: kaz brekker x reader Summary: you wake up from a nightmare and kaz comforts you Warnings: angst, some language Word count: 1.4K A/N: sljflskjklfj someone’s favorite writer?? ME??? anon you have no idea how incredibly happy this made me !!! have a kiss on the forehead mwah

There was a small room attached to Kaz’ office, which he always used as storage. He called it a storage room, but it was more of a dump of papers, really. When things between you got serious, you started to spend more and more time in his office.

You’d often fall asleep on his couch, and wake up with back pain due to the uncomfortable positions you fell asleep in.

That’s when Kaz decided to clean out the storage room. Once all of the papers were taken out and sorted into neat piles, there was just enough room in it for a small bed.

When Kaz first showed it to you, he was a bit nervous. He thought you wouldn’t like it. But you beamed with happiness and told him you loved it. You’ve been sleeping in the small room ever since that day.

Often Kaz is still busy, running around the crow club doing god knows what, and you’re the first one to arrive back at his office. When you do, you always leave him a note on his desk, letting him know you’ve gone to bed already. Kaz then slowly opens the door to your room, whispers you goodnight, and heads to his own room. It was a nice routine you’d fallen into. A bit of calm in the chaos of Ketterdam.

Tonight isn’t any different.

You’re almost asleep, when you hear the door slowly opening.

In the dark, you can just make out Kaz’ shape in the doorway.

‘Goodnight.’ he whispers.

You smile. ‘Goodnight.’ you whisper back.

He closes the door again, and only seconds later, you fall asleep.

Kaz walks to his bathroom to take off his gloves and wash his face. It’s already dark outside, and normally he’d still sit at his desk to work. But he figured he could skip one night, and actually get some sleep.

Besides, if he didn’t, and you would find out the next morning, you’d make him take a nap anyway.

He changes into a pair of more comfortable clothes and lays down in his bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. Immediately, he feels his body getting heavier.

Maybe he should listen to you more often, and get enough sleep every night. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Just as fast as he fell asleep, Kaz also wakes up.

He looks over at his bedside table, and notices it’s in the middle of the night. Kaz rolls over, ready to fall back asleep, when he hears a sound.

A piercing scream, sounding like someone is in pain.

But that’s not what makes him jump up, it’s the fact that it’s your voice that terrifies him.

In a second, he’s up, grabbing his cane in case he needs to hit someone, and he throws open the door of his room.

His office is empty, and you’re nowhere to be seen. But then he hears you screaming again. It’s coming from your small bedroom.

Instantly, he walks over to the door and roughly opens it. His cane is raised, in case there’s an attacker who made their way into the room.

But you’re the only one who’s there.

Your eyes are shut, a pained expression on your face. Somewhere during the night, you’d thrown your blanket off, and you’re clinging onto your pillow. You mumble incoherent words.

Kaz reaches out with his cane to nudge your leg, given that he’s not wearing his gloves. You stir slightly, but don’t wake up. He nudges you again, a little harder. This time, you do wake up.

You launch into a sitting position and Kaz instinctively takes a step back, creating some distance between you. For a few seconds, you look around with widened, frightened eyes, but once your eyes land on Kaz, you relax a bit.

‘Saints.’ you murmur as you press your hands against your face.

Kaz studies your face as you wipe cold sweat from your forehead.

‘Did I wake you?’ you softly ask him, avoiding his eyes.

His heart breaks at the sight of you, looking so vulnerable and shaken. The way your hair sticks to your neck and shoulders in a sticky, sweaty mess. There’s tears in the corners of your eyes.

‘Yes, but it’s alright.’ he says.

‘Sorry.’ you say. ‘It was just a nightmare. You can go back to sleep.’

But he doesn’t want to go back to sleep. Not now you’re so shaken, clearly in need of some comfort.

‘Are you okay?’ says Kaz.

‘I'm fine.’ you say.

‘Okay, so look me in the eyes when you say that.’ says Kaz. ‘So I know you’re not lying.’

You lift your gaze and look at him.

‘I'm fine.’ you say again, but Kaz shakes his head.

‘No, you’re not.’ he says. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘It’s a nightmare, Kaz. I'm not a child, I can handle it on my own.’ you say.

‘You screamed, Y/N.’ he says.

Your eyes widen at his words. ‘Fuck, really?’ you say. He nods. ‘That means they’re getting worse.’ you mumble, more to yourself than telling Kaz.

‘Come on.’ says Kaz, gesturing to his office behind his back. ‘Let’s get you out of this tiny room first.’

You hesitate, but follow him anyway.

‘Talk to me.’ says Kaz, as he sits down on the edge of his desk. He looks at you, waiting for you to talk.

‘They’re about you.’ you say softly.

Kaz’ features soften as he gestures for you to go on.

‘They’re about losing you. All of them.’ you mumble. ‘You’re hurt and I can never get to you in time. When I wake up, it usually helps when I get up and go see you in your room. It helps because I can see with my own eyes you’re alright, and it was just a dream.’

Kaz is silent as he looks at you. You wrap your arms around your body, feeling a bit uncomfortable. You’re an open book to Kaz, but admitting you have nightmares about losing him felt a bit too personal. Even for your taste.

‘I'm here now.’ says Kaz, looking at you. ‘I'm alright.’

You nod. ‘I know.’ you say. ‘I'll go back to sleep. And sorry again for waking you.’

You move walk back to your small room, but Kaz speaks up.

‘Y/N?’ he says, making you stop and turn around to face him. ‘Do you want to stay in my room for the rest of the night?’

‘No, that’s alright, you could barely fit in my small room.’ you say with a smile. ‘But I appreciate it.’

Kaz frowns slightly. ‘No, I mean, I'd stay in my room as well.’ he says.

‘Kaz, there’s a reason why we sleep in separate rooms.’ you tell him. ‘You know why. And this works for both of us.’

‘I know.’ says Kaz. ‘But you’re clearly still upset, you’re still visibly shaking. We could keep our distance, it’ll be alright.’

Still, you’re not convinced. ‘Are you sure?’ you say. ‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with for my sake. This is a huge step for you.’

‘I'm willing to try for you.’ says Kaz.

‘Alright.’ you say. ‘But you need to communicate with me, okay? If I'm doing something you’re not comfortable with, tell me. And if you want me to go back to my own room, that’s perfectly fine, you can just tell me.’

Kaz nods and walks to his room. You follow him, and are grateful his bed is much larger than yours. He sets his cane aside and lays down on the left side of the bed. You cross the room to the other side of the bed, and lay down.

It’s a bit awkward at first. There’s so much space between you, you almost fall off the bed on your side.

But then Kaz reaches out and hooks his pinky around yours.

It’s kind of like his way of hugging. You knew it would take years for him to be comfortable with touches like hugs, if he’d ever be comfortable with it in the first place.

Right now, you’re grateful for the feeling of his skin on yours, even if it’s the bare minimum, it’s comforting.

You close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of your intertwined fingers. Even if the nightmares got to you again, you knew Kaz would be alright. He’d be right there next to you.

You take a deep breath, mumble a ‘Thank you’ to Kaz, and fall back asleep.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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jared-19-cant-reid · 4 years ago

Text

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.”

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection.

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it.

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family.

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress.

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you.

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you.

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother.

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you.

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense.

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face.

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now.

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks.

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress. His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot.

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you.

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over.

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight.

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real.

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most.

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well.

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion.

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance.

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure.

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions.

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment.

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.”

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe.

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Belonging

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 4606

Content warnings - lots of angst, insecure MC, Mammon is an ass at first ‘cause he’s a tsundere

Prompt/inspiration - self indulgent comfort piece

Summary - That one time when Mammon’s tsundere tendencies broke your heart.

AO3

You had been so stupid. So foolish. So naive.

When you first met Mammon, he took your breath away. You had never seen someone just so...beautiful. It was an honest to goodness love at first sight moment, something that you didn’t even believe possible until then. Yeah he seemed a little harsh, but you convinced yourself it was just because he was shy and easily embarrassed. As soon as he got to know you better, you were sure he’d calm down a bit and open up to you.

It was slow going though. Just when you had started thinking you had finally managed to become friends with him, something would happen that would send you back to square one again. For every step forward you took, you would inevitably take 3 steps back.

But after a while, things did eventually seem to be going your way. He’d come over for movie nights. You were allowed to hang out in his room. He no longer stuttered out excuses when he would walk you to and from RAD. You had started to feel comfortable. Like maybe everything in your shitty life up until now might have actually been worth it because finally, FINALLY you had someone who genuinely enjoyed being around you.

Until today, that is, when you were not-so-gently reminded of your place.

The night began like any other Friday evening - a movie night with Mammon, Beel, and Levi. Everyone had gathered in Mammon’s room, snacks were plentiful, and you were getting to sit next to Mammon. As the movie progressed, you casually adjusted your position so that you could hold his hand. But as soon as your palm touched his and he realized what you were doing, he pulled back and yelled at you.

“What the hell are ya doing?!”

If it wasn’t for the look on his face, you would have sworn he was embarrassed. Instead, there was no doubt in your mind just how disgusted he was at the idea of you touching him. You didn’t notice when the movie was paused. Or when the lights were turned on. All you could see were his eyes boring into yours. Looking like he wanted to vomit on the spot at the very idea of having ever been close to you.

“Umm...I...just…” you stumbled over your words, unsure what to say. What could you even say? He knew you had tried to hold his hand. And that’s all there was to it. You made a move, the wrong one, and he rejected you.

“Sorry...I’ll umm...just go…” was all you managed to finally get out, as you made a mad dash to your room. Your cheeks were burning with shame, and tears pricking at your eyes.

How could you have been so arrogant? Thinking someone could actually be interested in a person like you. This wasn’t your home. These weren’t your friends. They weren’t your family. You didn’t belong here. You didn’t belong anywhere. You had let yourself get comfortable, indulging your delusions and fantasies and ignoring all the many warning signs that you weren’t actually wanted here.

Even though Mammon was your official Guardian, the rest of the brothers still did their part to make sure you survived your year in one piece. And you had mistaken this courtesy as actual kindness. If anyone had been nice to you, it was out of obligation or pity. You were so desperate to believe you had finally found a place of your own that you let yourself be tricked into thinking demons would actually care about you.

You should have known better. It’s not like you hadn’t had this experience before. People who tolerated you and then at the first available opportunity cut you from their lives. You knew there was something wrong with you, there had to be, for as many times as this had happened. But since no one stuck around very long at all, you honestly had no idea what that might be. If someone would have just told you, you would have fixed it.

By the time you had made it to the safety of your room, your tears had already started to fall in large, heavy drops. You didn’t make a sound. You were too numb to even sob. You just laid down on your bed, facing the wall, and cried. If you could even call it crying. It was more like tears just poured from your eyes. You didn’t even know it was possible to cry that many tears, yet here you were - soaking your pillow, unable to stop the flow.

At some point, you had managed to get your breathing under control. And then, even your tears dried up. You turned to lay on your back, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out where you should go from here. You still had to make it through the rest of the year, and you had to find some way of doing that peacefully. Maybe if you talked to Lucifer he would assign you a different Guardian? You didn’t really want a different Guardian though, but you doubted you would be able to emotionally handle spending any more time with Mammon. Especially since every time you closed your eyes you could still see that look on his face.

After weighing your options you decided the only thing for you to do really was to put on a happy face. You’d be polite to anyone that talked to you, but you were going to be smart this time. You were going to keep your distance. Not just from Mammon, but from everyone else too.

There was no point in giving yourself the chance to believe you actually could make any friends here. Doubtless it would end up the same way. So you were going to do the minimum - go to RAD, come back to your room, and stay in your room until it was time to leave for RAD again, only leaving with the exception of meal times. No more movie nights, or gaming tournaments, or shopping trips, or restaurant tours. You were just going to keep to yourself and...survive.

————

Breakfast the following morning was oddly quiet. Beel, Mammon, and Levi kept exchanging looks, but you pretended you didn’t notice and just focused on your meal. You had found a comfortable sense of numbness since the previous night, and had now more or less come to terms with the fact you weren’t wanted here and had gotten carried away.

Lucifer had needed to head out a bit earlier to attend a before school meeting with Lord Diavolo, so you asked if you could walk with him instead. He raised an eyebrow at your unexpected request, but thankfully didn’t ask any additional questions. Of all the brothers he was actually the one you were most comfortable with at the moment. Probably because you never had any doubts about the fact he wasn’t overly fond of you.

When classes had ended for the day, you realized that you would need to walk home with Mammon. But after a full day of perfecting your “nice” smile, and mastering how to behave “politely” without taking things personally, you felt better prepared to handle it than you had that morning. Mammon seemed nervous, blushing and fidgeting most of the way. Any other day, you would have asked him what was wrong, but now you were committed to keeping your distance so you ignored him.

Once you arrived back at the House of Lamentation, however, he finally started talking to you before you had a chance to hide away in your room again.

“Uhh...about last night...I…”

“It’s fine, Mammon,” you said, smiling your best, bright smile, “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“That’s...I was jus’ surprised is all…”

“Then I’m sorry for surprising you.”

“So umm...do you wanna...try again...maybe…?”

For the briefest moment, your smile faltered. You were quick to correct it, but of course Mammon noticed that split second of hesitation before you answered.

“No thank you. It was nice of you to offer though. But I don’t think I’ll be going to movie night anymore, so you really don’t have to worry about me.”

“Huh? That’s not what I was...this wasn’t about the movie…!”

You gave Mammon another perfect, reassuring smile before leaving him in the entryway, flustered beyond belief at what just happened. He could understand that you might not have known what he was asking right away, but to say you didn’t want to go to movie night at all? That seemed like a bit of an overreaction. Not to mention the fact that the entire conversation just seemed...weird. You were smiling too much for one thing, and he really didn’t like it. He enjoyed making you smile, but this just wasn’t right.

And he couldn’t just let that go.

No sooner had you sat down at the table in your room to begin on your assignments, than the door was flung open as Mammon barged in. You stared at him, stunned, unable to grasp why he had followed you to your room. When he saw you looking at him, he once again got flustered, but was quick to recover this time - he was on a mission.

“Look I know I yelled at ya and all, but that ain’t a reason to skip movie night. Who's gonna feed Beel? Or make sure Levi doesn’t put on those weird anime movies with the tentacles and shit?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage. You had to have worked things out somehow before I arrived. You don’t need to try to include me,” you replied, turning your back to Mammon so you could focus on your work.

“Movie night was your idea! Ya can’t just quit!”

“I said it’s fine,” you could feel your frustration building in your chest. You had wanted to do this peacefully, but Mammon was so stubborn, more stubborn than you had anticipated given his reaction to you yesterday.

“It ain’t fine!”

“Leave it alone, Mammon,” you snapped, stopping what you were doing as you tried to calm yourself down again. You weren’t going to let him get to you. He’d wear himself out and lose interest eventually. You just needed to be patient until he realized he didn’t have to entertain you anymore.

“How can I leave it alone? I’ve said worse stuff to ya before and you haven’t acted like this.”

“I know when I’m not wanted. It’s fine.”

You weren’t about to open up and confide in him all your worries and fears. Even if he was asking out of politeness, you knew he wouldn’t really want to hear about that stuff anyways. He barely tolerated your physical presence, there wasn’t any way he’d want to be burdened with your emotional baggage too.

Mammon was silent for a while after that. He didn’t know what to say, or how to explain. He knew he had fucked up. Badly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you next to him. He did. More than he’d care to admit. Which was actually part of the problem. He didn’t want to admit he cared. Because admitting he cared would mean you could reject him. If you weren’t aware of his feelings, then you would just be stuck with him, and that was good enough for him. It had to be.

At least it had been up until now. Now, Mammon feared if he didn’t say something, anything, he’d lose any chance at ever talking to you again.

“...I wanted ya there…” he finally whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yeah I do!” he said, much louder than he had spoken before. Couldn’t you tell he was trying to say that he liked you? That he enjoyed your company? Did you really have to argue with him about it?

“...whatever,” you said with a sigh as you began to open your school books.

“Hey! Listen to me will ya!? I’m trying to say I like you!”

You flinched at Mammon’s sudden declaration.

“And you expect me to believe that?” you replied, your tone laced with venom. You knew what was coming next - his inevitable backpedaling that he always did. Where he made excuses and belittled you and made sure to crush any hope you may have had that he actually liked you in any capacity because the idea of anyone thinking he actually had a soft spot for you was apparently absolutely appalling.

“Why wouldn’t you?! You should feel honored and…!”

“Why wouldn’t I?? Seriously?? You’re asking me that?”

You turned in your seat to glare at Mammon, angry tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Did he seriously think so little of you that he just expected you to believe whatever you told him?

“I dunno Mammon, maybe it’s because ever since I got here you made a point to remind me what a burden I am and how much trouble I cause. Maybe it’s because you constantly dump me on your brothers to avoid your responsibilities. Maybe it’s because every time I try to be nice to you, you push me away and make me feel stupid for even trying. But hey, what do I know? I’m just the dumb human, right?”

By now your tears had started to fall, but you couldn’t even be bothered to dry them. You finally had the chance to get everything off your chest that had been building since you were dragged down to the Devildom and you didn’t feel like stopping anytime soon. Your rational thoughts had long since flown, and all that was left was your extremely hurt, angry, emotional self that was bound and determined to make sure Mammon knew just how much pain he had caused you.

Mammon, for his part, was completely dumbfounded. Personally, he thought he had been doing alright trying to get to know you. He wasn’t used to people actually being nice to him for one thing, so he was always so suspicious whenever you were.

But what he hadn’t realized though, was how genuine all your advances had been, and how much he had hurt you in trying to protect himself.

“I-I-I…”

“I’m not the sort of person anyone likes. I know that. So whatever joke it is you’re trying to pull, just stop it already!”

“I ain’t messin’ around!”

“What are you not understanding here??” you yelled, slamming your hands down on your desk as you stood up to face Mammon, “I don’t connect with people. I’m never the one that gets picked. So just stop it ok?! I don’t know what Lucifer threatened you with…”

“He didn’t threaten me with anything!”

“Oh please, like you actually want to spend any time with me.”

“Of course I do! That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya!”

“...you don’t mean that. No one ever means that.” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself tightly, averting your gaze. Your anger had started to fade and all that was left was an overwhelming sense of sadness.

“Why do ya keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true. It’s just what happens. Whatever it is that lets people make friends, I don’t have it. I always think I do, but it never works out. So why would this time be any different? I just...I can’t do this again.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I love you!” you shouted, having finally reached the end of your patience with Mammon’s endless questions. This wasn’t how you had wanted to tell him. But you didn’t know what else to say at this point because nothing else seemed to be getting through to him.

Cautiously, Mammon took a step forward. Then another. Until he was standing right in front of you. You kept your eyes trained on the ground, refusing to look up. You didn’t want to see the look on his face. Not after you had just confessed to him. It had been bad enough when he yelled at you for holding his hand, and you were sure seeing him now would kill you.

But, Mammon didn’t force the issue. Instead, he slowly reached out for your hands, carefully twining your fingers together as he lowered his head to rest it against yours.

“...do ya mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you mumbled, “But it doesn’t matter. It never matters. I’m not good at this stuff.” You rubbed your fingers over Mammon’s hands, playing with his rings as you tried to distract yourself from the conversation you were having. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were so nervous you couldn’t stand it. It almost didn’t seem real to you, to have him standing so close to you, willingly touching you. Perhaps that’s why you weren’t shying away from being honest about your feelings and why you were letting yourself touch him like you were. If it was all only a dream, it didn’t matter anyways.

“It matters to me...I like ya too. A whole lot. And...I’m sorry for makin’ ya feel anything different. It’s just…” Mammon hesitated. This was the most honest he had been with another being in centuries, and his instincts to pull away and run were still strong. But you had been honest with him, and after all the hurt he caused you, it was probably the absolute least he could do.

“It’s just...I know how it feels. Ta not be wanted. And I uh...didn’t trust ya at first. I thought...you would be like my brothers and were just mocking me…”

That last sentence made your heart ache and you lifted your head slowly to look at Mammon. His eyes were closed now, but you could see the tears gathering at the corners and the dampness of his lashes. It was clear to you then that these were his true feelings, and not something he was sharing easily. Without a word, you released his hands, slipping your arms around his waist to pull him into a hug. He flinched at the sudden contact, but didn’t waste any time returning the gesture, wrapping his arms around you and hiding his face in your shoulder.

“I’d never do that,” you replied.

“Well yeah, I know that now.”

“I think you’re amazing, you know? I always have fun with you. And I like spending time with you. When you’re not acting like I’m the plague,” you teased, turning your head slightly to catch a glimpse of Mammon’s face and the faintest hint of a smile that tugged at his lips.

“S’rry. I think yer pretty amazing too. You put up with me an’ my brothers for starters.”

You laughed softly at his reply, feeling his arms tighten around you as he hugged you closer.

“Do you umm...wanna watch a movie…?” Mammon asked, hopeful that you’d take him up on the offer so he’d have a good reason for staying with you a little longer.

“Yeah, we can do that. I didn’t get to finish the movie from the other night.”

You pulled away from Mammon to grab your laptop from beside your bed, before climbing into it and making yourself comfortable. When you looked up, Mammon was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor, blushing furiously.

“Oh. Do you not want to sit here? Sorry! We can…” you started to ramble, terrified you had made him uncomfortable again and already messed up everything that you had just seemed to fix.

“No! It’s uh...not that...umm…” Mammon said, moving to sit on the edge of your bed, “Do you umm...wanna try...ya know...holding hands…?”

You blinked a few times as you processed Mammon’s request, staring at his outstretched hand that he was offering to you. Was this what he had been trying to ask you about after school…?

“I mean! It’s fine if ya don’t want to!”

“Wait!” you grabbed his hand quickly, before he had the opportunity to pull it back, “I’d like that. A lot,” you said, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Can I ask you something?” Mammon nodded as he scooted back onto the bed so that he could sit next to you, “Is this umm, what you were trying to ask me about earlier? When we first got back?”

“Yeah,” now sitting comfortably beside you, he adjusted his grip on your hand, lacing your fingers together and allowing you to snuggle up next to him and rest your head on his shoulder. He was nervous at having you so close, but at the same time, he didn’t think he had ever felt more relaxed. There was a certain comfort in knowing that you felt the same way towards him and weren’t going to chase him off for wanting to be near you. He still had a long way to go in the “open and honest” department, but at least with you he didn’t have to hide his feelings any longer.

As the movie played, Mammon found himself struggling to concentrate. You had said a lot of things earlier when you had been so upset that he hadn’t been sure what you meant, or how he was supposed to respond. One thought in particular kept echoing in his mind that he really felt like he needed to address - that you didn’t feel wanted.

“Hey, do you umm, think we could talk?” he finally asked. You paused the movie and closed your laptop, nervous to hear what he had to say.

“Sure,” you replied meekly and Mammon gave your hand what he hoped would be a reassuring squeeze.

“I guess I just want to make sure you know that I want ya around. I know I can be a bit of an idiot at times and don’t always think things through...but that’s how I feel. And I know my brothers feel the same too.”

“Thank you. For telling me.” You could feel your throat tightening and you knew you were probably close to tears again, as if you hadn’t already cried enough today.

“And I’m gonna prove it to ya, you know? The Great Mammon’s gonna show ya just how special you are.”

A small smile spread across your face as you snuggled closer to Mammon. He nudged you gently with his elbow, which only made your smile broaden, and you nudged him in return, causing him to laugh. It didn’t take long for a full on tickle fight to erupt, which only stopped when Mammon had managed to successfully pin you to the mattress. Realizing the position he was in made Mammon’s face flush, but he didn’t move, and you simply looped your arms around his neck holding him in place with a hug. He carefully lowered his body so he could wrap you up in a hug of his own, as you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

You had been so certain earlier that you’d never get a chance to have a moment like this with him. And part of you feared if you were to let him go, he’d leave for good. But no matter how tightly you held him, Mammon held you just as tight. He too had been waiting for this for a long time and wasn’t about to let you go any sooner than necessary.

—————

The following morning, Mammon was already gone by the time you woke up. The realization stung, but you tried to focus on the positives and pushed those thoughts aside, determined not to let yourself jump to the worst case scenario before you had even eaten your breakfast. You quickly got yourself ready, and made your way downstairs, taking your usual seat at the table. Mammon had yet to make an appearance, so you focused on your food, anxiously waiting for him to join you.

When you heard the dining room doors open, you quickly snapped your head up, smiling as Mammon made his way into the room. He locked eyes with you, grinning, but as soon as he noticed that his brothers were also watching him, he averted his gaze and your heart shattered.

Of course, you thought, how could you have forgotten? Just because he admitted to liking you in private didn’t actually mean he would treat you any differently. The thought made your stomach churn, and you had to fight the urge to dash from the room, choosing instead to return your attention to the food on your plate. This was going to be so much worse now that you knew he was aware of your feelings, you thought, blinking back tears.

Shit.

Mammon had reflexively looked away from you for the briefest of moments when he had become aware of his brothers staring. But almost immediately he had stopped himself and looked back at you to offer you a smile. It hadn’t been quick enough though, and he only caught sight of your face as it fell and you attempted to hide your disappointment. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you. Especially not so soon after the two of you had finally opened up to each other.

And now what was he supposed to do?

Well, there really was only one thing he could think of - Make ‘em jealous.

Taking a deep breath, Mammon walked to his seat, nudging his chair over until it was right next to yours, before finally sitting down. You looked up at him, stunned and confused, and he flashed you his usual cocky grin, which only made your heart leap in your throat. Just what was going on? you wondered.

“Ooo Mammon, you’re sitting awfully close today,” Asmodeus teased.

“What’s it to ya, Asmo? Ya jealous?” Mammon, quipped back as he started serving himself some breakfast. He could feel you staring as you struggled to wrap your head around what was happening, and he smirked, shooting you a sideways glance.

“It’s just not fair that you keep hogging them all to yourself. The rest of us should get a chance to sit next to them too.”

“Enough. It’s too early in the morning for this sort of nonsense,” said Lucifer, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know, dear brother, you’re going to get horrible wrinkles if you don’t get more rest,” replied Asmo, shifting his attention to Lucifer.

Mammon turned to look at you, not at all surprised to see that you were still staring at him in shock. He looked down at your lap, and you followed his gaze as he opened his right hand, palm up, and offered it to you. You stared at it for a few moments, before finally sliding your hand into his. You looked up at him again, only to find that his cheeks were now a very deep shade of red, one that spread all the way to the tips of his ears. He was clearly not prepared for how...different...it was going to feel to hold your hand when surrounded by his brothers, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

He was quick to turn his attention to his breakfast, and you did the same, occasionally sneaking glances at Mammon as you ate. Mammon could feel your eyes on him, and while mildly embarrassing, also made him ridiculously happy. Up until yesterday he had been so afraid of making a move in your direction, he hadn’t even stopped to think of the possibility of you actually accepting him. And now that he was holding your hand, he was determined to never let it go.

#gn!mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me comfort #obey me angst #mammon fanfic #mammon angst #mammon comfort

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

Text

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia for hyping me up to post it in the first place. thank u to @shadowsremedy for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

“Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud.

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”.

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour.

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face.

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor.

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?”

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite.

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously.

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.”

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises.

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log.

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!” He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious.

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest.

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike.

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with.

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence.

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid.

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it.

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt.

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart.

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound.

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.”

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack.

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched.

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin.

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles.

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment.

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible.

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter. He nodded in agreement.

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant.

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it.

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life. Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you. The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest.

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own. Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy.

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked.

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”

Your cheeks flushed.

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?”

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect.

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed. “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh.

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head. “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man. Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence.

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood. You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.

“What the fuck am I going to do?!”

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out. But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.”

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’. And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully.

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too.

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”

He wrinkled his forehead.

“You sure?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you.

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order. Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly.

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth.

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold.

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered.

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply.

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips.

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

at the column of your throat.

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts.

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him.

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma.

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you.

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.”

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone.

You shook your head.

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you.

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover.

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips.

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.”

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears. You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it.

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls. You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you. Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence. He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?”

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away.

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips. The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt. His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss. “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement. He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain. After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips. He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat. He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound. Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter. He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees. Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought. Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions. Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside. You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace. He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock. Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush. Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end.

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight. It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock. With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel. Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside.

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls. He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees. He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

#bts smut #kim seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #ficswithluv #kim seokjin smut #jin smut #bts fan fic #bts imagines #bts fic #bangtanarmynet

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