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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—backseat serenade. (m)

⟶ pairing: taehyung x reader

⟶ genre: punk!taehyung / band au / brother’s best friend au + smut

⟶ words: 10,790

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

⟶ warnings: multiple sex scenes, slight exhibitionism if u look hard enough, wall sex, car sex, unprotected sex, all the sex (seriously), fingering, pussy slapping (also if u look hard enough), lots of teasing, doggy style, riding, creampie

⟶ disclaimer: this story is another repost of an old one (although it’s basically been entirely rewritten lol)!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

“We have to hurry. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Taehyung says this with much difficulty, of course, especially when considering you’re currently pressed up against him, his fingers digging crescent-moons into your hips ━ but he knows you’re teasing him now.

You can’t help it, though; he just makes it so easy for you.

He can be so stubborn and impatient at times that poking fun at him brings you quite a bit of joy. Maybe not so much to him, as he often whines and complains that you like to torture him, but, really, how could you not? When you think about what he’s usually like in bed, away from prying eyes, it’s entirely different. So to see that dominance in him fade into nothing short of helpless is simply satisfying ━ even if you know you’ll pay for it at a later time. It doesn’t always happen either but when it does, you bask in it for as long as possible.

Which is why you seem to take the liberty of “torturing” him so sweetly now, just before the boys are about to play a gig at a bar late one night. Taehyung had found you the moment he and the boys had finished soundchecking for the evening, then had you pinned up against the brick wall of the dingy washroom, his hips digging harshly into yours, and his hand now gripping your thigh around his waist. It might have been you who instigated it, hooded eyes and fluttering lashes and shit-eating grins meeting him in secret from across the room as he stood on stage before you with his bass guitar in hand, but Taehyung was the one to put it into action just like he always does, pulling you in there even despite the fact that they were scheduled to play in twenty minutes.

But who could blame you? Taehyung is always so charming, and tonight he was looking extra irresistible. Maybe it was the silky blouse, the first few buttons left open so that the floral tattoo on his chest pokes through, leaving very little to the imagination, or maybe it was the way he had let his hair grow out a little longer than usual, soft dark curls pushed back by a single bandana.

“You’ll be late,” You warn him in between heated kisses as he pecks his way down to the underside of your jaw where he tongues a warm pattern there.

“Just a quickie,” Taehyung promises gruffly. His hips rut against yours again and you feel his straining erection against your inner thigh. Poor thing. “Been dying all day to feel you on my dick.”

You only hum in response, a small amused smirk plastered on your face. He’s sucking a hickey onto your neck when he speaks next.

“Had all these thoughts but I was all alone. It was terrible.”

“What kind of thoughts?” You pry, quirking a brow. Your fingers toy at the top of his belt buckle, pulling him towards you. “Let me guess. Were you thinking about what it feels like to have my mouth on you? All warm and wet.”

He doesn’t move a muscle when he feels your hand trail lower past his belt only to grab at his crotch through the rough material of his jeans. You press your palm against him and he hisses.

“Sucking you off nice and slow, just how you like it?” You probe, teeth tugging at his lower lip when he catches your mouth on his once more. Your voice is low and sultry and invokes something in him that has him tensing. “Or maybe the way it felt when you had me bent over your kitchen counter the other day. You know, you always make me feel so good, Tae━”

He growls against your mouth but the harsh sound dissolves into a strangled whine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, love.”

“And I always love when you pull at my hair too━” But you continue on as if he hadn’t even spoken, the thrill of the moment coursing through your veins like crackling electricity. “And when you grip my thighs so tightly when your head’s between my legs━”

“Y/N,” he says your name in a strained warning, bordering on a desperate beg if you listen close enough. He gets distracted when you suck delicately on a spot on his jawline and has to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

“My mouth?” You ask, tantalizingly slowly. “Or me?”

“I’m a simple man, I just wanna cum,” he hums, earning a delighted snort from you. “I’ll take whatever you give me, Y/N, please.”

“Hmm…” You trail off. You press your palm a little harder against him, rubbing your hand across his length. “Think I want you inside me, Tae. Wanna be wrecked by you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Now, this seems to excite him to no end. He fumbles with his belt at once. A devious cackle meets his ears and he knows you’re purposely toying with him. The next few moments unfold in a blur as his eager hands join with your own nimble ones, having his belt undone in a matter of seconds and your skirt hitched up nearly to your waist. With one hand gripping his straining and leaking cock as he pulls himself free from his pants, the other hitches one of your thighs to his waist. He pushes into you at once, the familiar feeling of your wet walls coaxing him in further and further as he sinks against your chest entirely, a beautiful luscious moan falling from his lips and a hiss of glee from yours. And, then, all at once, it’s as if all the pressure that has been building up inside of him tumbles to the forefront to be released.

“Jesus, fuck,” he grunts. He buries his head against your chest, one hand feverishly grasping at your breasts from under your shirt, fortunate you chose to forgo a bra for the night.

“Ooh, Tae━” Your own arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you, but you don’t think he’ll bother going very far when his own weight slumps against you entirely, pressing you against the wall roughly. And even though he’s quick to fuck himself into you, his hips hardly stray far from yours too, causing you to bob violently up and down the wall behind you, the rough brick structure scratching at your flesh paling in comparison to the cool metallic rings on his fingers holding you up and the burn between your legs as his cock stretches you open.

“Nice to know that’s all I am to you━” Your head falls back against the wall as he continues. “Something you can use to get off. Not that I mind.”

“Nah, that’s not all you are to me,” Taehyung sharply inhales, and then shudders. In the heat of the moment, you miss the sentiment in his voice. He lifts his head to yours finally, smothering your lips with his. “But your pretty little cunt sure is nice.”

A maniacal cackle bubbles at your throat as you nip at his lower lip. Before you can respond, outside the washroom Jimin’s voice can be heard calling out aimlessly for Taehyung as the boy most likely wanders by, oblivious to what’s unfolding only a few feet away from him. “Has anyone seen Tae? Taehyung! Get your ass back here or we’re gonna be late━”

Taehyung groans out of frustration and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling angrily, “Fuckin’ hell.”

But despite the Jimin’s close proximity and despite Taehyung’s bitter resentment for it, his hips still continue to rut into yours. You do manage to pull apart from his mouth and giggle when he chases after your lips desperately. “Think that’s your cue, baby.”

“There’s no way you’d be that evil,” he protests like a whining child.

“But Jimin sounds pissed.”

Taehyung finds it hard to focus when your fingers tug at the collar of his shirt, absentmindedly (or so he thinks) running your hands under his shirt and over his chest. He cradles you close to him, following your every move. That, and the way your walls clench around him drives him wild. “Heaven forbid we let down Jimin.”

“Nnng━” You choke back a whimper. “He’ll be mad.”

“As if he wouldn’t already lose his shit if he found me here in such a compromising position with you being that you’re his sister.”

Compromising is certainly one word for it. So, maybe Taehyung had a point, but that never stopped him or you before. In fact, it only seemed to add to your lustful endeavours, as if you both enjoyed seeing how far you could push the boundaries before getting caught ━ or not.

It hadn’t always been like this. For a period of your life, you had somehow forced yourself to believe you had despised Taehyung as much as you claim, as much as you lie. You wondered just how Jimin could ever be friends with, or be as inseparable with, Taehyung as he was. Whereas Jimin is timid and shy, gentle and caring, like a soft breath of cool air on a hot summer’s day that sways the knee-high grass in meadows behind your house, Taehyung is energetic and effervescent, reckless and wild, akin to that of a sudden flash of lightning that breaks apart the calm sky, a clap of thunder that shakes even the very core of sleeping Gaia. Though, somehow, their two vastly different personalities come clashing together in a harmonious perfection and create something that is entirely too rambunctious for you to handle, even as a young child.

But now? Now you’re positive neither you nor Taehyung would stand a chance against Jimin’s wrath if he found out his best friend enjoyed weekly sex of all sorts with you, sometimes even when he’s asleep in the next room over in your shared apartment with him and Taehyung had somehow managed to sneak in during the night.

“You know he’s already suspicious,” You moan as his cock angles upward into you in such a way that makes your body tremble. You jut your hips forward, meeting his halfway. “Now━ Fuck, Tae━ you wanna… You wanna risk getting kicked from the band for not showing up to your set?”

“There’s still ten minutes,” he hisses hotly. “Ten minutes is more than enough time.”

“Then you’ll really be late.”

“It adds to the rockstar brand, doesn’t it?” he asks hastily. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking wet and you’re teasing me?”

He’s met with a roll of your eyes, and then a drunken snicker as you retort, “Maybe being fashionably late will be more acceptable when you’re a big celebrity.”

“Did you find him?” Another voice suddenly sounds from outside, this time resembling Hoseok’s. Taehyung wonders how they haven’t heard either of you yet, the lewd wet noises of his cock burrowing into your cunt seeming to grow louder each time. Surely, you would have been caught by now had it not been for the thudding bass of the music playing at the bar.

“No,” Jimin grumbles, closer this time.

A dangerously loud whimper tumbles from your lips and Taehyung hurries to clamp his hand over your mouth. You’re fortunate when he does, clinging to his hand as he pumps himself into you. At the very least, no matter how cocky Taehyung got with you or how many times he teased the thought of getting caught, he would never actually risk facing Jimin’s mighty wrath. Still, he finds a way to have fun with it.

“Uh oh.” Taehyung meets your darkened stare, lids heavy, as his other hand leaves your thigh to stick between your legs, fingers rubbing circles against your clit. You know he does it on purpose, judging by the broadening smirk on his face when the added stimulation makes your hips jerk instinctively beneath him. He’s surprised when you hardly let out a noise, safe for a sudden gasp for air. “Not even one tiny moan? Come on, baby.”

“Fuck it. Wherever he is, he better know we’re on in ten!” Jimin’s voice carries back to the two of you. Then, a little more faintly as he wanders off, you can hear him grumble, “I swear to God, this asshole━”

“Wait, wait━” You rasp suddenly, twisting and turning beneath Taehyung and the boy stops at once. You try not to let your heart swoon at the way his hands are all soft and gentle as they touch you now, sliding his palm off your mouth if only for it to fall to your hips where he rubs at comfortingly.

He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches, shoved so deep within your walls. “What’s wrong?”

You slither from his grasp, unraveling your leg from his waist and delicately pushing him away, trying not to focus on the way your pussy throbs at the sudden missing warmth of his length. Taehyung is suddenly even more concerned, the poor boy gawking at you helplessly, his swollen cock completely forgotten as he fixes himself back into his jeans, his attention solely focused on you and your wellbeing now.

“What happened? Did I hurt you━”

“No,” You promise. “No, I just━” You look sheepish, and he wonders why, up until he sees you fidgeting with your skirt in an attempt to fix it and the mischievous twinkle flashing in your eyes. “I just figured maybe we shouldn’t risk it tonight. I mean, you heard Jiminie.” You pat Taehyung’s chest once, smoothing out the material of his now crumpled shirt. “So, I’ll see you out there.”

Taehyung blinks once. “What the fuck.”

It doesn’t seem to hit him at first; not until he spots your wicked grin as you lean past him to look at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your clothes and hair. You wipe at a smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth, and Taehyung gaps.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” he whines. Needy and desperate hands try to grab at you on your way to the door, but he ultimately lets you weave your way out of his reach. “What are you, the antichrist? Don’t be such a tease. I’ve got a problem that you helped start. It’s only fair if you help finish it.”

Admittedly, it is cruel. He looks both shameless and shameful, an exasperated and flustered expression to match the helpless state he’s in. Shirt askew on his shoulders, hair a wild mess, and his painfully obvious boner struggling against his jeans. You almost feel bad, until you realize you shouldn’t be. Because this is all it’s ever been between the two of you ━ sex, and more sex, no feelings attached, but lately something seems off… Either way, Taehyung will get over it, and he’ll still come crawling back for more which is why you have no qualms when you leave. Just, maybe, not in the way you would like.

The last thing he sees of you before you flee the washroom for him to fend for himself is a seductive smirk and a wink being thrown over your shoulder as you remark innocently, prettily, “You have hands.”

And then you’re gone, leaving him alone in the dingy washroom. He doesn’t come out right away, though it leaves the restless boys that make his band awaiting him to speculate some more.

“He’s gonna totally screw us over if he doesn’t show up in the next two minutes,” Jimin is saying hotly to the boys behind the stage when you rejoin them. The bar is already filling up with partygoers but mostly fans of the band, eagerly anticipating the set.

“Relax, Jimin,” Namjoon says carelessly. “He’s probably getting blown in the washroom or something. Can’t rush a man through these things.”

Jimin rolls his eyes as the others snicker. When the others have distracted themselves by discussing other business, you approach your brother casually, saying as inconspicuous as possible yet reassuringly, “Everything will be fine. I’m sure he’ll be here any second.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if he throws this all away for a girl,” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s a miracle he ━ or any of the guys, for that matter ━ hasn’t tried anything on you yet.”

You try to laugh, though the sound is more forced and strained than you would like. At least Jimin doesn’t seem to notice. “But he’s your friend. Don’t you trust him?”

“I do trust him,” Jimin replies. “He’s a good guy, he’s just too caught up in all this band life. We’ve both seen it with the guys, especially with Taehyung. They take advantage of this stuff in the early stages.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” You promise. “I’m not interested in your friends and never will be ━ especially not Taehyung.”

Fortunately, the dreaded conversation doesn’t last much longer. Taehyung does end up making it to his own set on time, and when he finds you out in the crowd, you’re smirking deviously up at him for a secret that never has to be told aloud to the world and certainly not to Jimin.

You don’t quite remember when you and Taehyung started hooking up behind your brother’s back or what exactly caused it.

If you think back long and hard enough, you’re positive it was the result of some sort of drunken one night stand that elapsed into sober days and conscious decision making, which then turned into weeks, then months, which leaves you to where you are now. Almost a year of sucking your brother’s best friend’s dick and you’ve somehow, miraculously, never been caught. But aside from occasionally sleeping with one another, there was nothing more to be exposed to Jimin in terms of romance. Because, as far as he was aware, you and Taehyung were still embroiled in your childhood rivalry with one another that was less violent now than when you were younger and more civil, aside from the offhanded jabs and retorts shot at one another. And, as far as Taehyung and you were aware, the charade and the hook-ups all resulted in a peculiar sort of friendship between the two of you that was certainly as far as either of you would take things. Supposedly.

But between sexual teasing and taunts, you sometimes wonder if the lines have begun to blur, and if you’ve gotten too comfortable with Taehyung asking to sleep in your bed. Which is why, maybe, you overcompensate by “torturing” him on the days that he really needs you, like the night before in the grimy washroom of the bar. He hadn’t joined the real world or the band until the very last second they were meant to go on stage, looking all the more discomposed and flushed in the face when he rushed out, though at least he had somehow managed to tame his raging boner.

Now you were certain the universe was toying with you, bittersweet payback coming to nip you in the ass.

You hadn’t been so bothered the night before, leaving with the boys when their set was done and returning to your home with Jimin, not a word being uttered between you and Taehyung, even up until the very next day where you find yourself now. Crammed in a local studio run by some friend Yoongi had known from college, you were quite used to watching the band brainstorm new lyrics and record songs in real time, all from the sofa shoved up against one wall of the small space. You had been there every step of the way ━ their first rehearsal as a formed band, the day they discovered the group’s name in almost a dreamlike epiphany, the release of their very first full-length album produced and recorded all by them and promoted all by them, their very first gig with a decent following and the jittery anxiety they had all been troubled by, and every gig following it in which their nerves subsided and their effervescent charm and credence began to finally show through. But they had never been as disconcerted as they had now ━ which, really, you don’t blame them.

“Bro, this is stressing me out.” This aggravated groan sounds from Jungkook, the band’s lead guitarist.

He’s currently splayed out on the ground of the sofa you’re seated on, head thrown back against the cushions. Every other boy in the studio bare a similar wearied look ━ even Jimin, as their usual spritely lead singer.

You suppose that’s just the inevitable stress bound to occur when a scout from the infamous Columbia Records had somehow found the band either in person at one of their gigs or online and taken an interest in them and were interested in signing them. After weeks of back and forth discussion, Jin had been fortunate enough to land a meeting with the label in New York City, looking promising enough to excite even the stoic Yoongi. And after a month of planning, their meeting was set to take place finally only a week from that day. The issue seemed to arise when the label claimed they wanted the band to bring a set of new songs to the table to discuss at the last possible moment, sending the boys into a chaotic frenzy as they had only just released their first album a few months back. You had come to help the boys, though they were lucky enough to have found a handful of pre-written songs from their repertoire that still, unfortunately, needed fine tuning, vocals, and melodies. After working meticulously all morning, they were only just now deciding to split for a much needed lunch break.

“Same here,” Jimin says glumly, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Can’t wait to get out of here. I feel like I’m going insane.”

As the boys begin to shift and move, Jin gets to his feet and clasps his hands onto Jimin’s shoulders, giving him a reassuring nudge. “Just think about it: international success and Grammys await.”

“If we don’t fall apart before then,” Namjoon stifles a yawn as he stretches out his arms. He tosses a glance at you and Taehyung. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” You say, though you hardly move from your seat. “I’ll be there.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” Taehyung nods. He’s sat across from you on the couch, journal propped on one knee as he scrawls away in it, a jarble of chord progressions and lyrics. “Just gonna finish cleaning up in here.”

It seems convincing enough to Namjoon and the rest of the boys, even Jimin who is already out the door, not in the least bit suspicious of you or Taehyung. Honestly, you’re sure not even Taehyung is suspicious of your unmoving presence beside him until the boys leave and suddenly the room falls silent.

“You’re stressed,” You point out in a gentle musing. Which is true. You don’t usually see Taehyung riddled with anxieties, typically keeping to himself and maintaining some sort of effortless and mysterious coolness around the others.

The boy quirks a brow as he lifts his gaze to look up at you, tossing the journal onto the ground. Whether or not he seems to catch the underlying suggestive and sultry tone in your voice, you’re not quite sure but could you really blame yourself? It was difficult having to watch Taehyung all morning in his element, gazing at him whenever he was in the recording booth, headphones dangling from his neck and bass guitar in his lap as his expert fingers thrummed away at the strings. He always looks most attractive to you when he’s so utterly consumed by his work and his art, whether it be on stage in front of hundreds of people or in a more intimate setting at recordings or practices.

“What happened to you not wanting to disappoint Jimin by getting caught or whatever it was?” he asks, waving his hand dismissively. “Staying back with me is definitely gonna catch his attention.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. You catch his hand as he brings it back down, raising it to your lips to kiss at the tips of his fingers slowly, one-by-one, never once breaking eye contact with him. “I was just thinking you could use some help. And an apology for yesterday.”

Despite the way Taehyung’s dark gaze scrutinizes you in a taunting manner, he still watches as you take his hand and place it between your thighs, over your core. At least today you chose to wear leggings, the smooth material allowing for very little obstacles standing in his way as you press his fingers against you. A wolfish smirk tugs at his lips. “You think your pussy’s gonna help me?”

“Yes, actually, I do,” You say, matter-of-fact. “And I don’t think it will; I know. If I remember correctly, you were begging to use me as a stress-reliever before your set yesterday.”

Taehyung clucks his tongue. “Sounds a lot to me like you just want my fingers in you. Not so nice now being the needy one, huh?”

“I want you to do a lot of things to me, Tae.”

“Careful, baby. You’re playing a dangerous game,” Taehyung says. Still, he entertains the idea. Pressing his thumb harder against you, he rubs leisurely at the sensitive part of your clit over your clothes and the sudden feeling makes you pur with glee. “Besides, why should I be so nice and help you after what you did to me?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re still on about that? You’re a grown man, you can pleasure yourself.”

“How mean.” He feigns a look of mock hurt. “It doesn’t feel as nice when it isn’t you.”

“Taehyung,” You scold his name in a warning, but it mostly comes out as a contented sigh. You know you’ve already won him over, though the impatient tug you give on his arm as you clutch at his wrist of the hand still between your legs is a wordless reminder. Your fingers flutter up to his face, pulling him down for a kiss which he gladly obliges to. “Think they’ll walk in?”

“Nah.” His voice is a throaty murmur. “We’ve got some time. The boys’ seem worried enough as is; think they’re already halfway to that pho place around the corner they wanted to try, and they’re probably not gonna wanna come back here for at least another hour. Plus, I think we’ve given the producers a raging headache with all our requests so they definitely won’t want to be back in here for a while.”

You snicker at the thought, humming into his mouth as you pull him down with you onto the sofa, bending your knee so as to let him slide into place between your legs more comfortably. He pulls his hand away from you only long enough to lick at his digits before slipping his hand past the waistband of your leggings this time. Nudging aside your underwear, he swipes his fingers at your clit, marveling at your stickiness.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What do we say when they ask where we went?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, tell them we were busy fucking for all I care.”

You swat at his chest playfully but lose your spirit when he presses his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to rut forward in a silent plea. Taehyung’s right, you think. Your excuse for the boys can be worried about later. Now, Taehyung slides a finger into you, then another, stretching you open experimentally, causing you to croon.

Face warm and head spinning, a sudden thought pops into your head that seems much more intimate than his fingers in you. “So━” You bite your lip to stop a moan. The question that forms on your tongue is timid despite the lewd things that threaten to run through your mind at his every touch, “S-So, what happens when you’re a big and famous rockstar, touring the world now?”

“I’ll take you with me.” Taehyung tongues a pattern down to the underside of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. He curls his fingers upward, sinking further into you until he’s reached his knuckles, enjoying the way your hips twitch beneath him. “Fuck you in every city we go to, in every fancy, over-the-top hotel we stay in. New York, L.A., Paris, London, Rome…”

“Romantic,” You snort, although maybe it kind of is if you think about it long enough. He slides a third finger into you then, fucking his digits in and out of you at a gradual pace that has your core aching. You’re all warm and wet around him that it goes straight to his dick, the thought of him tearing you apart as he plunges his cock into you making him grow antsy. It does the same to you. “Nnngh, Taehyung━ We’ll see about that when you meet pretty girls thousands of miles away who can offer you so much more than me.”

“Hmm… Dunno about that,” he hums. “There’s only gonna be you.”

You wonder if he knows what he’s doing, the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him. Pretty words promising you that you meant more to him than sex meant little to you in comparison when he never acted upon it ━ but could you blame him? Even you were apprehensive of ruining what you already had with him, his friendship with Jimin if you told him how you were feeling lately, and the integrity of the band.

Your legs tremble as your orgasm approaches. Taehyung busies himself by nipping and sucking at your neck and all you can do is puff and pant, the lewd wet noises of his fingers penetrating you filling your ears. “Taehyung━ God, I wanna feel your dick so badly.”

“Yeah?” he growls. “Gonna let me fuck you finally? You’re so wet right now, could slip right in. Fuck, look at what you do to yourself by being so mean to me.”

He twists his finger up into you in such a way that has you grinding against his knuckles. “Please, Tae━”

“Got you stretched so wide too,” Taehyung hums pensively. “Your pussy always takes me so well too, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, Taehyung!”

“Look at you,” he hisses, quickening his pace. Your back arches until your chest is pressed flush against his, walls quivering around his fingers. You reach out desperately for his face, smoothing your lips over his but you fail to really make any sort of connection. Instead, your jaw unhinges in a breathless moan against his mouth as he rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna come around my fingers so badly, don’t you? So close too.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m━” Your hands ball into fists around the collar of his shirt. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you get closer and closer, your aching pussy so close to feeling its much needed relief when━ “What the fuck, Taehyung?”

He pulls his hand from your core before you can cum, leaving you a sweating and panting mess. The sudden loss of contact leaves you dumbfounded, gawking at the boy who’s suddenly grinning in a similar ungodly manner to your selfish response to him the day before. Payback has never tasted so sweet before to him, and so bitter to you.

“You did that on purpose,” You whine, jutting your hips forward desperately to meet his hand again. Instead, he gives your leaking and sensitive pussy one slap, the pleasant jolt shooting up your spine making you moan. “You’re so mean. I thought you were over it.”

“Well, now I am.” He pulls his hand out from between your legs and licks at his fingers. “Have you had your fun?”

It takes you a moment to respond as you gather yourself. He finds your sulking a little hilarious, and maybe also feels a little bad. “For now.”

“That’s a good girl.” He leans down to kiss your mouth hungrily, enjoying when you suck eagerly at his lower lip. “Because I’ve had my fun.”

You open your mouth to say something more but are stopped shortly when, somewhere outside the recording room, you can hear the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning and Jimin’s curious voice, “Tae?”

You and Taehyung have stumbled off of one another within seconds, listening to the way Taehyung curses under his breath as he flings himself off the couch and a few feet away as you sit upright on the sofa. You have to only pray and hope that you both don’t look too obvious, though you think it’s too late for that. Either way, you cross one thigh over the other, biting down harshly on your tongue as Jimin stumbles into the room. As his gaze sweeps fleetingly across the room, he hardly takes note of both you and Taehyung.

“There you two are,” he says. “Was wondering where you went off to. And━” His stare flutters over to Taehyung for a moment and you hold your breath, fearing he may know a little too much, when━ “There’s my wallet! I knew I forgot it here.”

He crosses the room swiftly and plucks his abandoned wallet from the desk, holding it up to show the two of you. You smile nervously and Taehyung takes it upon himself to answer, clearing his throat in the process. “We were just gonna catch up with you, actually. Y/N was just helping me finish up here.”

You’re fortunate that Jimin’s probable sudden panic of trying to find his wallet and the relief of realizing he hadn’t lost it to the ether is what distracts him. He seems hardly intrigued by your lack of presence or yours and Taehyung’s odd companionship without the other boys. Whatever the case, you both manage to make it out of the recording studio unscathed and Taehyung does a well enough job at deflecting from any further suspicions by talking as normally as he usually would with Jimin on your walk over to the restaurant the rest of the boys are at.

Well, as unscathed as you can be, the tragedy of your lost orgasm still haunting you even as you sit across from Taehyung at the table.

“Now you’ll really be late.”

You say this as a heedful warning, though you’re fortunate when you find that you’re both distracted this time.

You know you have Taehyung under your spell that morning when he catches you purposely wandering his apartment in nothing but a pair of your panties. It’s not as if it’s uncommon to see you naked in his kitchen, making breakfast. That morning, when you walk into the bedroom holding a cup of tea, Taehyung almost chokes at the sight of your bare chest. It’s early the day of the band’s flight to New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records, and though Taehyung has roughly an hour before he has to leave the apartment, you’re worried he might just miss the flight altogether when he pulls you onto his bed again after a night of fucking.

“Don’t care. Come here.” His large hands are on you in an instant, roaming your body as he kisses the underside of your jaw and pins you beneath him. You let him get carried away, let him leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your lips down to your collarbones and in between your breasts.

“What are you gonna tell the boys when they’re on a flight to New York and you’re still in your apartment?” You rasp, fingers threading in his hair.

“Was busy spending the last twenty-four hours making hot, passionate love to you.”

The wry grin on his face makes it come across as a joke and makes your heart skip a beat. Admittedly, that was partly the truth. He had invited you over the day before and you had spent the better part of it in his bed in every position imaginable. Have to make up for the three days we won’t see each other, he had said after your first round, head between your legs and mouth on your cunt.

You snicker now but the sound falls short when a moan replaces it. “Don’t think you can call it passionate love making when you gave up halfway and made me ride you like you always do.”

He gasps and bites down teasingly on your skin but not with enough pressure to hurt. “Was that a jab at my manhood?”

“Of course not.”

“Besides, I like it best when you’re in charge.”

You roll your eyes but pull him up to your face so that you can kiss him again. It’s an odd shift in atmosphere when you find him kissing you in a chaste manner, despite having marked you red all over and legs still shaking from how many times he’s made you come in the last twenty-four hours. But it wasn’t all sex for once. Falling asleep in his arms left you still dreaming even when you were long awake.

“Gonna miss you,” he whispers once he parts from you. He rubs soft circles against your hips, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

“It’s only for three days,” You say.

“I know,” he sighs. “I just━ God, I’ve gotten so used to you being here. I’m just sick of sleeping alone all the time. Shit, I don’t think I’m making any sense anymore. All I know is you’re driving me crazy.”

“Taehyung…”

“Am I wrong to feel that way?” He lifts his head now to look at you, ardent sincerity glazing over his eyes as he gazes at you.

You’re too caught up in the moment, the lustful afterglow of sex and whatever else is starting to emerge however blurry it may be now, to not notice right away the sound of knocking on the front door. Instead, you reach out to push his hair out of his eyes. You think you know what he means; you just want to hear him say it aloud. Your question is a gentle probe. “What are you trying to say?”

“I━”

But Taehyung’s voice is cut short by the sound of Jin’s shouting from the front door. “Taehyung, you in here?”

Wide eyes meet with yours in the sudden alarming panic of Jin’s arrival. Taehyung grumbles mostly to himself, “God dammit, what’s he doing here?”

You can hear the band’s manager talking aloud, quite possibly to another one of the boys that he’s dragged with him, and you and Taehyung scramble to react. Taehyung only has enough time to clamber out of his bed and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor as you pull on one of his sweaters and grab the bedsheet to cling to your chest if only so it can hide the rest of your bare legs.

“Are you alive?” Jin’s asking, closer this time.

“We had to come check on you━” You don’t register the second voice until it’s too late.

Because there, standing at the threshold of Taehyung’s door to his room, is not just Jin but your brother. Jimin’s familiar pop of bright blue hair and nonchalant smile are much too hard to forget. But, upon stumbling across Taehyung’s room, they each come to a stuttering halt. It doesn’t take long for the realization to dawn on them ━ and how could they not piece together the puzzles painting such a painfully obvious picture? The dishevelled bed, the clothes that litter his floor, your clothes that litter his floor, Taehyung’s shirtless and sloppy attire, your own half-hearted attempt at dressing yourself and the marks that riddle your body that you were banking on fading completely by the time you were reunited with Jimin after their return from their meeting.

“Uh…” Taehyung trails off awkwardly. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh shit,” Jin curses under his breath. Despite having no idea whatsoever about you or Taehyung (though maybe having a better inkling than the rest of the boys), he turns hastily towards Jimin. “Maybe now’s not a good time.”

But Jimin hardly budges. Instead, he looks enlivened, jaw setting harshly in place as his brows furrow into a scowl. “Jin knows I have a spare key to your place after that one time you locked yourself out and he wanted to make sure we all met up before getting to the airport. You weren’t answering our calls, thought you were dead. Guess now I know it’s because you were too busy fucking my sister.”

“Jimin,” You hiss sharply.

Taehyung shakes his head wildly. “It’s not like that.”

“Really?” Jimin retorts. “‘Cause it sure seems like it is.”

Taehyung grimaces. “Okay, yes, but not in the way you think. It’s not some meaningless fuck. I care about her.”

But that only seems to be the wrong answer. Would there ever be a right one? Taming Jimin’s stubborn anger and protectiveness over you was hard enough on any other day. Now that he knows you’ve slept with Taehyung, Taehyung felt as if he were a lost cause.

“How long has this been happening?” Jimin asks, tight-lipped.

You can’t bring yourself to answer, neither can Taehyung, and that seems to be enough to answer his worries. Maybe if you had acted faster, said it was only a one night stand, he wouldn’t have been able to read your mind so easily. Yet your silence was enough to make you guilty.

“Shit,” Jimin runs a hand through his hair. When he speaks next, he’s looking only at you. “Do you love him?”

“I━” You open your mouth, as if to explain yourself. This time, the answer came much easier. You know what you want to say, but voicing the truth out loud in front of your brother and Taehyung, who might not feel the same way, makes you clamp your mouth shut. Whatever your answer anyway should be for Taehyung only. Instead, you frown up at your brother. “I don’t get why you’re so upset anyway. Who cares if we’re in love? Who cares what we are? It’s not like you can control me. I can make these sorts of decisions myself, Jimin. This is ridiculous.”

“No. I get that,” Jimin says firmly. “But you’re my sister, and your wellbeing comes first to me. So, Tae━” Now, your brother turns to look at Taehyung. You’ve never seen him so furious before, disappointed even, and certainly not when it comes to Taehyung. “If you care about her so much, when were you gonna let her know?”

This seems to catch your attention, sending a curious gaze between Jimin and Taehyung. “Let me know what?”

“That he’s been screwing some other chick he met at the bar a while ago,” Jimin says. “Walked in on them once by accident and, after the fact, he said some similar bullshit about how it wasn’t meaningless or whatever.”

You blink.

The blow to your chest, and subsequently your heart, makes you teeter on your frail legs. Because if what Jimin was saying was true, then were all the sweet sentiments Taehyung whispered to you even yours to begin with? Did he care about you as much as you cared about him? But, the worst part of it all, is how utterly foolish you feel. Because when Taehyung doesn’t immediately answer, your question about whether or not Jimin was telling the truth was confirmed; and you had let yourself almost willingly fall for Taehyung despite all the warning signs. Despite the fact that you had both initiated your relationship on the basis that nothing would ever blossom from it.

“Is that true?” You ask Taehyung.

The boy hesitates. He meets your stare solemnly, flinching when he notes just how hurt you seem. “Partly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You demand. But before he can respond, you scoff under your breath as you begin to gather your belongings. “Oh my god. I’m so stupid━”

Taehyung starts. “Wait, Y/N━”

“Just leave her alone━” Jimin interrupts.

“Hey. Hey!” Jin snaps abruptly, the firm tone in his voice catching the boys’ attention. “We gotta go. Now. Taehyung, get yourself decent; Jimin, in the living room. We leave for the airport in five minutes.”

You decide you no longer want to wait for an answer. Your own embarrassment is far too much to handle for the moment being, and you favour the idea of fleeing from Taehyung’s sorrowful gaze, Jimin’s heated one, and Jin’s scrutinizing scowl.

You’re long gone before Taehyung can even think to stop you.

The three days in which the boys find themselves in New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records is the longest three days of your life.

Taehyung never bothers to call or text you ━ and the looming swell of concern of awaiting to hear his voice or your brother’s or any answer of how the meeting has gone fades in comparison. Because every sweet nothing he ever said to you suddenly means nothing, and you don’t know where that leaves you.

Just when you think you can take the torture no longer, the band returns. Jimin comes bounding into your shared apartment the moment his flight lands and the taxi has brought him home, greeting you with the wonderful news that the band’s been signed, and a celebration is in store consisting of their closest friends and family members. While you initially bask in Jimin’s excitement, mirroring your own, it quickly fades as you fear you’ve lost Taehyung for good.

“You’ll come to the party, won’t you?” Jimin asks hopefully at some point. “The boys will want you there.”

You shift warily in your seat on the sofa across from your brother who stands in the midst of the room after having animatedly relaying the story of the past three days to you. You shrug now, and when Jimin shoots you a quizzical look, you decide to approach the topic cautiously, dancing over your words slowly. “I dunno, Jimin. If he’s gonna be there… I don’t know if I can face him right now.”

Jimin comes to an immediate halt. His face falls and he sinks onto the seat beside you. “Y/N… Look, I was wrong, and I’m sorry. While we were away, Taehyung and I talked and he’s gutted about what happened. But that’s all I can say. I think you should talk to each other. No, I want you to talk to each other. I know now that you’re meant for one another.”

“Are you only telling me this because you’re being your best friend’s wingman, or because you’re being my brother?” You ask, a weak lighthearted attempt at a joke.

“Both,” Jimin says warmly. “Because I care about you both, and I don’t want to have to live with the regret of being the reason two people perfect for each other aren’t together.”

And when your brother says it with such earnestness, you have no choice but to believe him.

So, despite feeling like a fool for potentially crossing paths with Taehyung again, you muster the nerve and motivation to go, and arrive at the party with Jimin later that night. The impromptu last minute party itself is held at Namjoon’s home, filled to the brim with mostly familiar faces and a few unrecognizable ones that must be acquaintances of the boys you’ve never met before. You make your rounds and congratulate the boys one-by-one, being enveloped into a tight hug with each one, safe for Taehyung whom you don’t see at first.

You’re fortunate when mutual friends of yours and Jimin’s arrive, spending the majority of the night with them as your brother wanders off to get wasted. At some point, as the night drawls on, you catch sight of Taehyung and the presence of him is enough to dampen your mood entirely. You decide you’re no longer in the mood for a party, and make haste for the door, stumbling out onto the lawn. You only make it so far, coming to stop at the foot of the curb to breathe in the cool night air around you, before you notice Taehyung hurrying out after you, calling your name.

Almost as soon as he’s able to catch his breath and you lock gazes with the boy, he asks aloud, “Where are you going?”

You hadn’t expected him to follow you, nor the terrible nearly tangible awkwardness that hangs heavy in the air. Still, the concern in his voice and the corners of his eyes softening at the sight of you makes you want nothing more than to forget all the heartache. “Home.”

“Let me drive you?” he asks delicately.

You hesitate before responding. You know the simple offer of a drive is more than that. It’s an invitation to talk to him, sort things out. And you, of course, can’t possibly deny him. As soon as you’ve followed him to his car and he starts driving, everything goes silent. It’s almost unbearable as you shift uncomfortably in your seat and gaze out the window, hoping the long car ride will pass by rather quickly. You thwart his attempts at starting any conversation by turning the radio up and letting the music ━ a mix from Taehyung’s phone filled with pop-punk and indie classics ━ fill the emptiness but it doesn’t work with distracting you. He takes a detour from the path to your apartment, driving instead to a nearby lookout point of a hiking trail, now abandoned and desolate this late at night.

It’s quiet even long after he shifts the car into park, leaving only the sound of the stereo to fill the void. Then, at long last━

“You didn’t call,” You say.

Taehyung swallows thickly. “I know.”

“That’s all I wanted. An explanation.”

“I know,” Taehyung shifts in his seat to look at you. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”

“I know I have no right to feel like you’re mine when the reason we started seeing each other was casual, but everything you’ve been saying to me lately━” You rasp, “that I’m the only one for you and that you were gonna miss me because you were tired of being alone ━ did all of it mean nothing?”

The boy’s stare hardens. “No. I was never lying when I was with you. Everything I said, I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you call?”

“Because I was scared I had lost you,” Taehyung grovels all at once, silencing you. “Because things were starting to finally change between us ━ where it wasn’t just sex all the fucking time, but something genuine ━ and I didn’t want to face the reality that it could all be gone, just like that.”

“Well, what did Jimin mean, about that other girl? Was he telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“Yes.”

“And did you fuck her while you were still saying there was only me in your life and pretending you meant it?”

“I was never pretending,” Taehyung protests exasperatedly. “We had a fling, but that was months ago, when you and I first started whatever the hell this is. But Jimin was wrong. I never told him she was the one, or whatever. I said I didn’t want it to be meaningless anymore. That I want something more. I thought I had found it with that girl; but it was really with you.”

“Taehyung…” You whisper his name now, a delicate utterance.

“You can’t tell me I’m the only one feeling this way about us,” Taehyung beckons desperately. “I know you’ve been feeling it too.”

You purse your lips; then, you let out a small exhalation of air. “Tae… I think I’ve been in love with you ever since we were little kids.”

Now, Taehyung’s stare softens. He reaches out to grab at your face, gingerly pulling you into him, thumb caressing your cheek.

“I want you,” he promises. “God, I want you so bad. Do you really think I’d risk getting kicked from the band for anyone else but you? Or let anyone else tease me so bad but you?”

You can’t help but snicker. You shake your head at him as he pulls you into a kiss. He grins against your mouth and, this time when he kisses you, it’s hot and needy, a whole three day’s worth of pent up emotions and desires pouring into your every touch. Your hands fumble to undo your seatbelt and then you’re climbing over onto his lap and he’s welcoming you with open arms, the skirt of your dress hitching up higher on your thighs. Your knee, or maybe it was your foot or elbow, accidentally hits the horn of the steering wheel and startles the two of you, earning a squeak from you, before you both erupt into laughter. Taehyung reaches down to push the seat back a few inches to give you more space in the cramped driver’s seat and then he pauses to look up at you with mesmerized eyes. He kisses you again and again, as your hands come up to grasp at the sides of his neck.

“Had enough of the bullshit, have you?” he asks humorously. “Gonna take matters into your own hands?”

“I’m tired of all this teasing and chasing,” You pout. You’ve already begun grinding your hips against his, enjoying the way his face pinches in pure delight. He burrows his face into your chest, breasts soft against his head. A soft moan bubbles at your lips as you plant your own hands onto his chest. “I think so are you. We’ve both got a taste of it, haven’t we? We need to make up for lost time.”

“Fair enough,” he rasps. “What do you want from me, baby?”

“You, all of you,” You murmur. “Want your dick in me.”

“Gonna let me finish this time?” he tuts.

Your amused giggle meets his ears and he wonders how you can be both cute and sexy at the same time. “Mmm, I wanna be filled with your cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung grunts. “Okay, okay. Here━”

Somehow, he’s able to gesture to the backseat and you and him clamber your way there until you’re finally both situated once more with you straddling his lap. There’s a mutual understanding that there’s no point, nor time, for foreplay but it’s not as if either of you mind. Taehyung’s surely had enough and so have you because while teasing him may be fun for a while, it certainly can feel like torture trying to stay away from him in the meantime. You help him fumble with the belt of his jeans so that he can unbuckle them and watch as he grasps at himself, pulling his cock free. Immediately, you’re lifting your hips to pull the skirt of your dress up higher and his hands help aid you clumsily, palms gliding up the smooth expanse of your thighs.

Then, fumbling to push you on your knees before him, with one hand on the small of your back, he pulls you towards him and gazes down between the two of you as he hooks a thumb over the material of your panties to push it to the side and teases the tip of himself over your slick folds. Your hands flail outward, palms pressing against the windowpane as he somehow situates himself behind you in the cramped space on his knees. He grunts from behind you at the feeling and then slowly and carefully guides you down onto him. It takes a moment to adjust but as you sink fully down until he’s balls deep, his cock coaxed easily by your leaking wetness, the both of you come to a halt, sputtering for air.

“Wait, wait,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck━ Stay put for a sec.”

“Why?” You ask, jutting your hips backwards teasingly. “Gonna cum already?”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he mutters. He thrusts up into you without warning as payback, causing you to gasp out loud and flail forward. “No, you brat. I just want to enjoy it a little bit longer.”

He’s right. It does feel nice to finally feel some sort of friction after three days of nothing. To him, you just feel so nice and warm and snug and, to you, he fills you up so perfectly. So you stay put for a little bit, adjusting to the feeling as you kiss each other slow and steadily. His dick twitches inside you, warm and wet and so fucking hard. He’s just so big, your head is spinning. It’s almost as if you feel him in the pit of your stomach, legs trembling at the feeling. He yanks impatiently at the top of your dress, pulling it down so that the material pools at your waist now, reveling in the way your bare breasts spring free. At once, his hands are reaching around your front to palm at your breasts, grasping at your hips and navel.

“Wanna wreck you so bad,” Taehyung growls roughly against the shell of your ear as he presses his chest against your back. “Gonna fill you up so good, make your pussy all mine. How does that sound?”

“Want it so bad,” You whine, one arm hooking behind you so that your fingers can scratch at his hair. “F-fuck, Taehyung━”

When he tugs lightly at your hips, you take that as his gesture for you to move and start grinding your hips against his.

“Been waiting so long,” he hisses. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t know why you always gotta tease me.”

“Taehyung,” You choke out. “Oh, f-fuck━”

“That’s it, baby girl. Doing so well,” Taehyung grunts as your walls quiver around him. He starts grinding into you, rough snaps of his hips sending you jolting forward each time. “Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Y-Yes━ God, want it so bad,” You cry out. “Give it to me harder, please, Taehyung━”

He gladly obliges, quickening his pace until he’s slamming his hips into yours in thrusts that tremble you to the core. Tears begin to prick at your eyes at the glorious sensation, your cunt throbbing with each thrust. You’re so wet, he almost slips from your walls each time he rolls his hips into yours.

“Fuck━ Want you to ride me,” he rasps at some point. “Show me how your pussy belongs to me. Can you do that for me?”

You nod blindly. You try not to whine at the sudden loss of contact when he pulls out of you, the tip of his cock glistening with both of your leaking cum mingling together, the sticky strands pulling apart midair as he fumbles. Soon, he has you straddling his lap, sinking onto his dick once more. You grip his shoulders this time, bouncing on him as he buries his face in your chest.

A sudden thought has him groaning aloud. “Your brother’s gonna fucking hate me.”

“I thought he said you talked things over,” You gasp. “That everything’s okay.”

“I don’t mean that,” Taehyung’s head rolls back, eyes squeezing shut. “He’s gonna murder me if he ever catches us like this.”

“Think he knows it happens by now,” You giggle. You moan when you drop your hips on him completely, swiveling around his dick.

“Still don’t think that means he wants to see us making love on the couch in your apartment. Not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you,” Taehyung points out. Then, adding hastily, “Fuck it. Can we not talk about your brother? It’s killing the mood.”

Another delightful chuckle bubbles from your lips though it’s quick to dissolve into a splintered cry as his dick angles upwards into you.

Your back arches until your chest is pressed against his. It’s almost embarrassing how fast the two of you become complete shambles, a sticky mess forming between your legs. It comes to that point where you don’t care about being careful and where you decide to adopt such a reckless pace, fucking yourself on him, your breasts bouncing wildly before him. Taehyung moans and eagerly latches his mouth on one of your breasts, sucking hard.

“Taehyung,” You whine. “I’m not gonna last.”

He hums against you, pulling you closer to his mouth and chest and wrapping you in his heat, as if to urge you on. Your mewls and whimpers ring in Taehyung’s ears as beautiful sounding as the music that plays in the background. You begin to give out, your tiredness mingling with the intensity of pleasure, and you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, huffing for air. He quickly replaces your efforts, grabbing your hips tightly and plummeting his upwards into yours so hard that you feel each thrust shake you to the core. You know you’ll have bruises in the morning but you don’t mind. You’re leaning entirely against Taehyung now, your arms wrapping around his neck, as cries of his name and choked whimpers continue to tear from your throat and mouth.

“F-Fuck!” You cry. “Taehyung, faster━ oh my god, please━”

Your pleas drown out when one long moan escapes you. You can feel the muscles in your core tighten and loosen in a constant battle that has your head swimming in a good way, your heart pounding in your chest. Taehyung grits his teeth, focusing on bringing you to your high, and, before you are able to even comprehend what’s happening, you’re toppling over the edge. You’re still on top of Taehyung, whimpering profusely and crying his name in a beautiful mantra as your high shakes you from head to toe.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Taehyung hisses. “Cum for me. Cream all over my dick. You love it, don’t you? Love having me fill you up like this?”

“Yes, oh my god, Tae, yes━ faster, please━”

Taehyung obliges, sweat forming on his forehead. He feels you squeeze around him so tight that he fumbles for a second, sputtering for air. Then, he feels your cum pulsate out of you, leaking down his length. You’re instantly floating up high with the stars, relishing in your high and the way Taehyung rides it out as he also fights for his own sweet release. As your hips come to a stutter, he grips at your waist and pummels his dick up into your aching pussy.

His tongue continues to lav lazily at your jawline and, by the time he reaches his own high, you are beginning to cringe from the sensitivity. Yet, you hold on, pushing away the slight sting as you help coax him to his high, squeezing your muscles around him. He cums moments later, releasing into you warm and wet, crying your name.

“Fuck, Y/N━ Gonna fill you up, baby, just how you like it━”

He rams his hips up into yours for one final effort, shuddering in elation as his cock twitches every last drop of cum from it. Then, both breathless and panting, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you slump against his chest, resting your forehead against his. The car instantly goes silent and the foreground music that was the radio comes to once more. You listen to the soft lyrics as the two of you bask in the afterglow of sex and he kisses you all over.

You don’t know how much time passes as the two of you lay there, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your hips as your own fingers trace the tattoos that ink his skin.

“You know━” Taehyung speaks up eventually, his voice a low mumble. “Gonna be extra hard not to be late getting to gigs now.”

“Uh oh.” You roll your eyes. “Think we’ve got all the time in the world now for sex, Tae.”

Taehyung grins. “I was thinking more about the fact that I’m not gonna want to get out of bed in the morning, whenever you fall asleep beside me.”

Your heart swells at his confession and you peck his cheek quickly before burying your face in the crook of his neck. It’s his own serenade of sorts, his small promise in the backseat of his car, that makes it all okay in the end.

“And,” Taehyung admits cheekily this time, “knowing we don’t have to keep us a secret anymore, even to ourselves━ I'm definitely not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you now.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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baekhansol · 3 years ago

Text

relief & reassurance

pairing: san x reader, wooyoung x reader (both san & wooyoung are doms, reader is sub)

genres: comfort, angst-ish, smut, completely self indulgence | rating: mature ! do not interact if a minor

word count: 3812

plot: you're feeling down, and your boyfriends try to make you feel better

warnings: depression, self hatred, skin picking disorder, body weight insecurity, polyamourous relationship, nipple/ breast play, fingering, sex toy usage, oral, bdsm themes, doms/sub relationships, orgasm denial & control, squirting, spanking, choking, biting/marking/slight scratching, a bit of hair pulling, slight teasing, use of pet names (princess, good girl), bulge kink, creampie, unprotected sex (please be safe!!), doggystyle, praise kink, multiple orgasm, pain kink(?), threesome, use of the color light system (just check-ins, no safe word use), subspace, and sweet sweet aftercare - as usual, let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: this is a very very self indulgent fic. a very special thanks to @sugasbabiie for beta reading this for me and pointing out some things that I needed to change 💜💜💜

You felt disgusting, broken, and just downright depressed. You were supposed to hang out with San for the night, but he was running late. So you went ahead and ordered takeout, getting his favorite. Ever since you started dating him and Wooyoung, you would take time to have a date night with them separately and together. That way, you wouldn't always be the victim of their teasing.

You hear San unlocking the door, so you do your best to act fine as you go over to greet him.

"I'm glad you're finally here!" You say, pulling him into a hug.

"Hi baby," he says, his dimples appearing as he hugs you back. "It smells delightful," San adds, pulling back and looking at you. His eyebrow twitches, and you're afraid he is going to ask what was wrong, but instead, he takes off his shoes.

"I'm glad! I bought your favorite barbecue, and I think it might still be warm," you tell him, clapping your hands once as you go to check, San trailing behind.

"Did you already eat?" He checks, looking at you sternly as he breaks the wooden chopsticks.

"Yes, and if you want proof, it's in the trash can," you say, looking down and away.

"Alright," he says, his voice softening immediately. "Go turn something you like on, okay? I'll eat and then clean up."

You nod and kiss his cheek, going back and turning on the show you've been marathoning. San comes and sits next to you, eating and half-heartedly paying attention.

You lean against his shoulder and curl up into your blanket, trying to relax. Your insecurities were getting the better of you.

When San finishes his food, he kisses your cheek. "I'll be back in a few," he says, and you know he is going to shower.

"Make sure to brush your teeth!"

"I will," San responds with a chuckle.

When San returns from cleaning up, you hadn't realized you zoned out from the show and started crying. He turns off the TV and pulls you into his lap slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away.

You don't, so you end up letting out a soft sob against his chest. San soothingly plays with your hair and rubs your back, letting you cry while saying soothing words in your ear.

"It's okay baby, let it out. I'm here for you, don't worry. You can tell me anything; you know that, right?"

When you’ve calmed down enough, and you blow your nose, San finally asks, "What has you so worked up, Y/N?"

You sigh, looking away and shaking your head.

"I just want to help," he assures you, "So please, tell me."

He wipes your tears away with his thumb, his own eyes full of concern.

"I've just been… feeling really insecure and hating my body," you murmur, looking away. "I hate that I have a stupid skin picking disorder. I hate how fat I am. I hate my stretch marks and my stupid eyes. I hate that I have two incredibly attractive boyfriends, and I'm just a potato," you rant, getting overly worked up to the point you start crying again.

"No, no, no, no, precious no," San says, his heart breaking as he sends a quick text to Wooyoung (get your ass over here asap).

"You're so beautiful, okay? We are all humans with flaws. Woo and I are idols, so that's why you think that. Remember my high school and middle school photos? I'd probably look worse than that now if I weren't an idol and could spend lots of money on skincare," he says with a slight giggle, handing you tissues again.

You take it and blow your nose again, groaning slightly. He just had to be logical.

"And I love all of you. I love your sexy body. I love your personality. I love the way you think and talk; how you see the world. I love your pretty eyes. They can see, you know? So you can see me," he giggles at that a little, gently kissing each of your eyelids.

"I love your pretty lips," he says, running a thumb over them. "I love your body. There's so much to cuddle, and you're soft and even better to cuddle than shiber, but don't tell them." At this, San gently starts caressing your body.

"And you know, your sweet tummy isn't going to be flat like mine. It's hard work to keep abs, and I generally don't eat before we perform to keep them there. Because when I eat, bye bye abs," he tells you, pulling his shirt up to show you how his stomach was just smooth and soft.

"And for your tummy," San begins, laying you down on the couch and pulling your shirt up to kiss it. "Your pretty tummy holds your uterus and the most precious parts of the entire female reproductive system, your ovaries and eggs. And right here," he kisses under your belly button, getting closer to over your pubic bone, a very sensitive spot for you, "right here is where all the magic happens."

You quirk an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain as you feel your cheeks heating up.

"It's where a baby will grow, if we decide to have one, and it's where your body let's you know it's reproductively healthy," he starts, kissing lower and lower each time, until you're biting your tongue to hold back a moan. San picks up the change in your state, swallowing the need to smirk.

"And your legs, your beautiful legs," he murmurs, massaging your feet and up your calves. "They carry you around all day and are so pretty." San kisses your shins, then slowly up your inner thighs, making you squirm.

His strong hands hold you in place as he continues worshiping your body. "You're beautiful thighs," he murmurs, nipping them. "They hide something beautiful between them, but even on their own…" San tries not to groan, as he can tell he is growing hard by your soft gasps. "They're soft and lovely to rest my head on, like your breasts, and I could spend all day marking them up. I love the way they jiggle like your ass does when spanked," he adds, looking you in your eye as he rubs your thigh, what he normally would do before spanking you.

When you nod, he gives them a resounding smack. This time, you don't hold back your moan.

He takes your hands in his, kissing your palms. "Your beautiful hands are perfect to hold, and your arms giving the best hugs, but don't tell Wooyoung or really anyone I said that," San giggles a little again, kissing up your arms, nipping here and there on the soft flesh.

"I know you hate how you pick at your arms, and I know how hard it is for you to control that impulse. But I want to help you, and I assure you Wooyoung feels the same way, okay?" he assures you.

You look away, more embarrassed than aroused now. "Precious, I asked you a question," he says, turning your chin to make you look at him, his dominance coming out.

"Yes sir," you say, biting your lip.

"You don't have to call me sir right now. This is about you. Now, can I make you feel good?" He whispers, his thumb ghosting over your lip as his knee ruts into your core.

"Please," you sigh, wondering if he would ask first or if he would make you beg.

Your word pleased him, as he immediately picks you up and kisses you deeply, carrying you to your bed.

“I love you so much; you know that, right?” San asks as he sets you down on the bed, helping you out of your shirt.

“I do,” you say softly, looking down as your face heats up.

San plants another sweet kiss on your lips, then slowly down your neck.

“Your soft skin is so kissable,” he says with a little giggle, nipping and sucking lightly, just enough to leave slight marks for the day. He undoes your bra, laying you back on the bed as his mouth travels down your decolletage, his hands caressing your breasts.

“You’re so precious to me, and I love all of you,” San assures you. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ll say yellow if you’re uncomfortable? Red if you want to stop?” he adds.

“I love you too,” you whisper, looking down at him lovingly. “And I always will,” you assure him.

He immediately takes one of your breasts in his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing your nipple, causing you to moan out his name.

He smiles against your skin, giving the same attention to the other breast. San begins to kiss down your stomach, humming while he does.

“I love your soft tummy,” he murmurs, looking up at you with utmost sincerity in his eyes. “It makes you extra cuddly,” he giggles.

You blush, not sure how to respond until he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” San asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes please,” you say, raising your hips to help him. He ends up taking your underwear off as well, a somewhat sheepish smirk on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, his tone rather unconvincing.

You roll your eyes as he spreads your legs, his eyes going face to face with your heat.

“Can I eat you out?” he bluntly asks, his warm fingers opening your folds.

“Please,” you say, letting him position your legs better as he immediately licks your folds, kissing your clit.

You let out a soft whine of pleasure, falling back onto your bed and allowing yourself to relax. San continues to suck on your clit, feeling your arousal start to drip onto his chin as you clench around nothing. Before you could beg for more, San’s tongue enters you, lapping up your arousal and easily hitting the spots that make your orgasm begin to quickly grow. San’s nose rubs against your clit, and he smirks as you grind against his face.

“San~ Sannie~ ah~” you moan, causing him to chuckle softly. The vibrations make your toes curl, and you gasp and grab the sheets.

San reaches up and takes one of your hands in his, gently squeezing it in reassurance as he continues his ministrations.

As you start feeling closer to your orgasm, San stops. He stands up, causing you to whine.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he says with a gentle laugh. San opens the drawer where you kept your sex toys and lube, and he takes something out you can’t quite see.

“What color are you?” he asks.

“Still green,” you assure him, trying to smile for him.

San kisses your forehead before going back down on you, this time putting his fingers inside of you. He turns on the bullet vibrator he took on a low setting and presses it against your clit, smirking when you groan his name and buck your hips.

“God, you’re so sexy like this,” he murmurs, kissing your thigh.

You whimper in response, boosting his ego. San turns up the setting on the vibrator, relishing in the power he had over you. He was glad he could help you feel better, even if it was only temporary. Which he hoped it wouldn’t. He wanted his words to have comforted you.

“I’m close-” you begin, your toes curling and thighs shaking.

San immediately pulls his fingers out of you and turns off the vibrator.

“San, what the fuck?” you whine. You weren’t being bratty; you were just confused.

“I promise I am still doing this to make you feel good,” he assures you, setting down the vibrator. “What color are you?” San asks.

“Green,” you admit, causing him to smirk and go back down on you.

After being denied twice, the coil built into a strong pressure, causing you to furrow your brows and whine out his name, being more vocal than usual. You almost feel overstimulated, but he holds your hips in place with firm hands so you can’t escape.

“San, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” you nearly sob, suddenly orgasming harder than you have in the past.

He lets you ride his tongue through your orgasm before he pulls up, a confident smirk on his now rather wet face. “I made you squirt,” he says proudly.

“I-?”

“Squirted, yeah,” San smugly confirms, standing up and sauntering to the bathroom. You’re not sure what he is doing in there, but he soon comes back with a dried face and a damp washcloth.

“I want to keep going,” you sheepishly admit.

He nods and cleans off some of the mess, tossing the washcloth into the hamper. “Let's take off the blankets then, yeah?” San says, helping you stand as he strips off the blanket.

You sit back down and look up at him, pulling him in for a kiss when he comes back. “I want you inside me,” you say softly, tugging at his pants.

“Be patient, you will,” he assures you, pulling away to undress himself.

His self-control never failed to surprise you because as soon as he got rid of his clothes, his hard length stood erect.

He hovers back over you, laying you down and kissing you sweetly. San grinds against you to test how sensitive you were. When you shivered, he stopped, continuing to gently kiss you.

San pulls away after a moment in order to align himself with your entrance. “I love you so much,” he tells you, sliding his tip in.

“I love you too, San,” you assure him, gasping as he continues to enter you, stilling only when he was fully seated inside.

“See, your tummy is even bigger now,” San giggles, rubbing your tummy.

“Are you trying to get me to say you have a big cock?” you giggle.

“No, but I wouldn’t be offended if you did say that,” he responds with a giggle of his own.

“San, please move your big cock,” you tease a little, laughing softly.

“As you wish, princess,” San teases right back, beginning to move at a comfortable, intimate pace.

You move your hips in tandem to his thrusts, gasping softly as he brushes your g spot.

“I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” San says, praising you sweetly. “You’re an amazing person, and I can’t believe you love me back.”

You feel yourself blushing, unable to say anything besides soft moans and whines.

“You’re so beautiful. Like this and any other time. You’re always beautiful,” he assures you, reaching down to start rubbing your clit.

You grab onto his bicep that was holding him up, whimpering his name.

“Good girl,” San groans, reaching down to capture your lips in a kiss. “Go ahead and cum when you need to, don’t hold back,” he adds, picking up his pace ever so slightly, knowing you were growing close.

“I- oh, fuck,” you whine, your nails digging into his bicep as you orgasm.

He continues to thrust through yours, and San soon releases inside of you.

“You couldn’t wait for me to get here?” You hear Wooyoung cry indignantly.

“How long have you been there?” San asks, pulling out of you and cupping your cheek before rolling onto the bed next to you, giving you a view of a very irritated and flustered Wooyoung.

“Long enough to start getting hard,” Wooyoung complains. You glance down to his crotch, and there was a definite tent in his pants.

“Well, this wasn’t the original plan,” San begins, and you are quick to look at the floor, taking great interest in the carpet suddenly. “Y/N was feeling depressed and very insecure about her body, and it just happened to lead to this,” San explains, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“You did?” Wooyoung asks, his eyes snapping to you.

You don’t look up at him or say anything, but you nod a little.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything, but you know he walks over in front of you. His fingers grip your chin and tilt your head up. “I asked you a question,” he says, his eyes hard.

“I… yes…” you say, sounding uncertain of yourself.

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

“I… don’t like myself?” you tell him, your words coming out as more of a question than a statement.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung says, trying his best not to sound disappointed. “You’re an amazing person. The best partner we could ask for. I don’t know what exactly is wrong, and I would love to talk about that later if you want. But I love you so fucking much, okay?” Wooyoung’s eyes were a little glossy, and you could tell how much he meant his words. He wanted you to feel better.

“I know… I love you both too…” You say, holding onto his arm before leaning up to give him a gentle kiss.

Wooyoung holds you close, deepening the kiss. “Is it okay if I have a turn?” he asks you, his hand resting on your hip.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you whisper, rubbing your noses together.

“I love you so much,” Wooyoung says, mostly to himself. He then asks, “Can I be rough?”

“Yes, I’ll say if it’s too much,” you assure him, Wooyoung and San both nodding.

Wooyoung is quick to undress and is soon guiding you onto all fours. He spreads open your legs and cheeks, watching San’s cum drip out of you. “You didn’t use a condom with San?” he leans forward and whispers into your ear.

San shrugs, knowing it didn’t matter since you were all clean and you were not likely to get pregnant.

Wooyoung pulls back and smacks your ass. “I love the sight,” he groans to himself, teasing your entrance as he smacks your other cheek. “I love how your body reacts to me,” Wooyoung says, grinning as you arch your back up, trying to get him inside of you.

“You had San, and you need more?” Wooyoung teases, slowly entering you.

“Yes, I need you too,” you gasp out, getting fistfuls of the sheets as you hold them to keep yourself up.

“Good,” Wooyoung grunts, beginning to harshly thrust into you.

“You’re making such a mess with your pretty cunt,” Wooyoung laughs a bit sadistically.

“Just for you, just for you both,” you manage to get out, angling your hips so he would hit your g spot.

“You’re such a good girl for us both, and you’re so fucking perfect,” Wooyoung groans.

San scoots up closer to your face, tilting up your chin to look at you. “You okay?” he whispers. “Color?” He knows Wooyoung could get a bit carried away at times, so he wanted to check.

“Green,” you choke out, your arms giving in on a particularly strong thrust.

Wooyoung slows his thrusts and grabs your hair, pulling you up and moving his hand to your throat. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. We are so lucky to have you,” he whispers, rolling his hips into yours.

You nod a little, your orgasm building again. Wooyoung hums softly and starts thrusting faster, grunting softly in your ear before he decides to suck colorful marks onto your neck and shoulder.

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, reaching down to rub your clit as he squeezes your neck.

You gasp, your thoughts going blank from the slight lack of oxygen to your brain.

“Go on and cum on my cock, princess,” Wooyoung urges you, biting down on your shoulder as he squeezes your neck a little more, searching for his release.

At the slight increase in pressure, your body explodes, and you cum, your fluttering walls encouraging Wooyoung’s orgasm.

He lets up on your throat and clit, thrusting a few more times to ride out your highs. Wooyoung pulls out of you and helps you lay down, cupping your cheeks.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Wooyoung asks, cupping your cheeks.

You’re zoned out, blissed expression was a dead giveaway of your state, as you felt high and floaty.

“Damn, if I had known you were going to come and fuck her like that, I wouldn’t have made her squirt,” San says with a sigh, getting up.

“You did? Without me here to watch?” Wooyoung groans.

San shrugs, heading into the bathroom and drawing a bath.

You watched the two, not quite able to make out their conversation.

When Wooyoung picks you up, you gladly lean against his chest and gently hold him. He leads you into the bathroom and sets you in the tub, which San had filled with a bubble bath. Wooyoung kisses your forehead, and San squeezes your hand, saying something.

San stands up and sighs, looking at Wooyoung. “Don’t leave her alone like this. I’ll wash the sheets,” he tells him.”

Wooyoung lets you play with the bubbles and soon gently washes your hair. “You’re doing so good,” he says, rinsing out your shampoo. “Our pretty girl,” Wooyoung adds, smiling. “Turn a little to face me, and I will wash off your makeup~” he says, putting the cleanser oil on his hands.

“Okay!” you giggle, turning and closing your eyes.

Wooyoung is gentle as he massages the oil into your skin, singing to you softly. You hum along with the tune, letting him rinse off the oil and use your regular cleanser.

“Are you ready to cuddle?” San asks, coming back into the bathroom and now fully dressed.

“Cuddles~!” you say, nodding immediately.

Wooyoung giggles and unplugs the drain, readying a towel.

“I have your favorite pajamas ready for you,” San says, smiling.

You let out an excited squeak, reaching out to Wooyoung to help you up. He gently grabs your arms, helping you find your footing before beginning to dry you off.

“Will you finish her up?” Wooyoung softly asks San, wrapping you in the towel before picking you up.

“Yeah, go clean yourself up,” San says.

Wooyoung kisses your temple and goes to the bathroom, and San helps you into your pajamas.

“You pretty princess,” he says, pulling on your pink pajamas.

“Mhm, your princess!!” you confirm, nodding.

San smiles, plugging in your hairdryer.

“You are the prettiest princess I have ever seen,” he assures you, brushing your hair before adding essence to it.

“Then you’re my… prince?” you ask, glancing up at San as he picks up the hairdryer.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” San assures you, turning on the hairdryer and drying your hair.

Before San finishes drying your hair, Wooyoung returns and lays on the bed next to you, rubbing your back.

Once finished, San unplugs the hairdryer and turns off the light. Wooyoung pulls you under the covers, holding you in his arms. San joins you, kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” Wooyoung murmurs.

“We love you,” San corrects him, smiling.

541 notes · View notes

azaleavi · 3 years ago

Text

Stranger with a knife - Y.B.

Summary: A stranger disturbs you in the middle of the night. Turns out that stranger might have a thing for knives.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: use of knives, blood, alcohol mention, stab wound, mention of knife kink, very brief hint on use of poison

Author’s note: My first ever Yelena fic!! I’m super nervous to post it so please give me feedback! I’ve never written for a female character before but i hope you guys like it!

Feedback is always appreciated and don’t forget to reblog and like if you enjoyed it and want to see more. Thank you!

Masterlist

It's in the middle of the night when you hear noise coming from outside your front door. It must be the neighbor you think and turn to your other side, away from the door to your room. You look at the digital clock and the bright red numbers tell you that it's just a little past 4 am. You are used to the people living next to you making noise. They always go out partying and they come back around this time so you don't make a fuss about it.

The noise of a few cars passing by on the street flow through the open window with the movement of the curtain caused by the light breeze. It does nothing for the heat that settled inside the four walls, the summer sun not letting go of you even during the night when it's sleeping.

You hear the noise again, like a person grunting just outside your little living space. It must have been some party you smile to yourself, a little jealousy seeping into the curve of your lips. You wanted to go out and party sometimes. Of course, you do, but that kind of time is not something you have.

The noise comes again, not moving an inch away from you and you realize that it's a female voice. You sit up in bed, worried for the mystery woman. She might be in trouble and you could not sleep knowing she might need your help.

Your feet touch the ground beside your bed just as the front door opens. The creaking of the old door echoes through the quiet space as you freeze in your spot, hands on the edge of the mattress ready to push you up to stand. Didn't you lock the door?

You are thankful that your eyes are used to the dark as you stand on shaky legs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Slowly walking to the door you grab the wood to open it just enough to look through the crack. An outline of a smaller figure catches your eyes as she stumbles in and closes the door behind her. At least she has some manners.

She stumbles onto your couch, her hands clutching her side. Landing on the soft cushions with a groan, she turns on her back.

You open the door a little more but stop your movements as it creaks. Damn old doors. She looks up from her stomach that she is still holding and your mouth opens in shock as she locks eyes with you. She has beautiful eyes.

"What-" she starts speaking, but her words fell short as she loses consciousness and falls back onto the couch. In a panic, you walk out the door and turn on the light. The woman has a big red patch on the side of her shirt and you can see her flesh under it as the fabric is cut open.

You pull the shirt away from her wound to check it out and you realize that it's not as bad as it looks. You are not a doctor, but you can tell that she doesn't need stitches. Pushing her shirt up just enough, you go and get some water, a towel, and some bandages. She needs your help no matter how she broke into your house. You clean all the blood away and wrap her in the bandages to the best of your abilities. When you are satisfied with your work you sit down on a chair facing the couch. You know you couldn't sleep with a stranger in your apartment so you decide on watching her. Your tired body has other plans though and you slip into sleep 15 minutes after.

The morning sun shines onto your closed eyelids making you stir in your sleep. Realizing what happened you jolt awake, almost falling off the uncomfortable chair you have been sitting on for the past few hours. the woman is still in the same place, passed out. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. You don't know what she would have done to you if she woke up before you.

Your stomach grumbles into the quiet morning air, signaling that the small dinner you had was not enough. After one last check on the woman, you walk into the kitchen to prepare something for you, making a little more than you usually would in case your guest wakes up hungry too.

As you busy yourself with breakfast, you don't notice the woman wake up and look around the unfamiliar place. Felling something around her torso she looks down and sees a bandage neatly wrapped around the wound she sustained last night. Her eyes land on your frame standing by the stove and her training kicks in. Standing up she quietly walks over to the kitchen counter that has knives on it and grabs one.

You feel a presence behind you, but before you can turn around you feel the coldness of the metal pressed to your neck. Your hands stop moving as you gasp. Her other hand goes around your waist and you can't help but grab onto it in panic.

"Who are you?" her accent is thick as it rumbles inside your ear.

"I think I should be the one asking that" your accent is just as prominent yet slightly different and she is taken back for a second. Who are you to talk back to her like this when you have a knife to your neck?

"I asked first" the childish claim is the only thing that comes out of her mouth, her brain unable to think of anything else. You tilt your head slightly as if saying fair.

"I'm the owner of the house you stumbled into in the middle of the night" you don't know where this confidence comes from, but you like it "Your turn" you look at the tiles on the wall ahead of you, trying to make her out in the reflection but it's no use. It's way too blurred to make out any features, but you can feel that she is around the same height as you.

"I'm the person who stumbled into your house" you can basically hear the smirk in her voice and you hold back a groan.

"I'll need a little more than that" you talk back to her and she is surprised once again.

"Well too bad" she lets go of you and you immediately turn around to come face to face with the most attractive woman you have ever seen. You look into her eyes and now it's your turn to be speechless.

"I was right" you mumble as a small smile plays on your lips.

"About what?" she furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

"Your eyes are really pretty" her whole body freezes at the compliment that leaves your mouth. She stares at you for a few seconds then clears her throat and turns away from you.

"So what happened?" she sits down on one of the chairs, keeping the knife close to her hand. Just in case.

"I told you. You walked into my house and bled on my couch" you shrug as you turn off the stove. Taking out two plates you scrape the food into each. She watches as you place one plate in front of her before sitting down on the chair across the table.

"How do I know you didn't put anything in this?" she looks down at it and she has to admit, it smells delicious.

"You'll have to find out" you tease her but immediately regret it as the knife is back under your chin, pressing against your skin almost breaking it.

"I'm starting to think you have a knife kink" your eyes don't leave the blade as you continue to tease her. She scoffs at your comment and pushes the knife harder against you "Okay, okay I'm just kidding" you try to de-escalate the situation as you hold your hands up in surrender. She takes mercy on you and pulls away the knife from your throat. A sigh escapes you as she leans back into her chair, making her smirk under her nose.

"Do you want me to eat from your food too?" you raise your eyebrows but she waves you off.

"I'm not hungry anyway. Do you have some vodka?" she tilts her head that you find oddly adorable.

"Vodka?" you ask back in surprise. Why would she want alcohol early in the morning?

"Yes" she nods like there is nothing wrong with what she is asking for.

"Sure" you shrug, acting nonchalant. If she wants to drink so early then she has another thing coming. You walk to the fridge and pull out a bottle. Trying to shield it from her view, you pour it into a shot glass and turn around to face her. She is sitting there impatiently as you hand the glass to her and she drowns it without thinking. You can see on her face that she was expecting the familiar sting of alcohol. Instead, she got a big shot of water from you. You can barely hide your smile as you see her face drop. She turns to you and you hide your mouth behind your hand.

"Do you think you are funny?" her voice is low as she stands up and you take a step back.

"A little, yes" you scrunch up your nose while nodding. She feels her anger dissipate at the action, but she steels herself.

"Okay then funny girl why don't you tell me your name?" she takes another step closer to you, but you mirror her movement backward.

"You first" your eyes don't leave hers as you play this cat and mouse game.

"I could kill you in a second" she threatens you, but for some reason, you don't budge. Everything you do baffles her and she needs to figure you out.

"If you wanted to kill me you would have done it already" you tilt your head to the side with a small smile. She stops in her tracks as her heart almost skips a beat at the action. Almost. The expression on her face makes you furrow your eyebrows "What?" the question shakes her out of her stupor and she raises her knife once again. She needs to leave right now before she does anything she will regret.

"If you tell anyone that I was here" she steps closer and this time you don't move back "you will die a painful death" you suck in a sharp breath at her words.

"Wait, you are leaving?" there is a slight sadness in your voice that she notices, but chooses to ignore. You don't even know why you want her to stay. She is a stranger that got stabbed and broke into your apartment in the middle of the night. You shouldn't want her to stay.

"I already stayed longer than I should have" she explains as she puts down the knife on the table and walks towards the front door.

It's already open by the time you reach her and you grab her elbow in a hurry. Her hand wraps around your wrist so tightly that it hurts and you hiss as you pull away from her. She mumbles a sorry under her breath as she fully turns back to you.

"I need to-"

"At least tell me your name" you interrupt whatever she wanted to say. Your eyes are wide as you look at her, your voice having a hint of desperation. Her heart beats just a little harder as you stare at her with so much hope in your eyes. A sigh parts her lips as she brings her hand to your cheek. Her palm presses against the soft flesh on your face and you can't help but lean into her touch. You don't know her, but you feel more comfortable around her than you had with anyone in your life.

"Yelena" you didn't even notice that you closed your eyes until it snaps open. Her name. Yelena.

"Yelena" you whisper is like an echo of an empty staircase of her voice and she concludes she likes it. You stare at each other for a few quiet seconds, her hand still on your cheek.

"Don't move away from this place" she lets go of you and leaves you perplexed by her words.

"What?" you ask back. You must have heard her wrong.

She doesn't answer you. Instead, she walks away from you and only throws you a smile over her shoulder. You stand there as she walks down the stairs and disappears from your sight.

Your mind is a mess as you close the door and press your back against it. You don't know anything about her other than her name, but you know one thing. You won't move away from this apartment until a specific blonde woman shows up at your door again. Maybe this time not bleeding.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova drabble #yelena belova one shot #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova fic #yelena belova fluff #black widow

393 notes · View notes

drakenology · 4 years ago

Note

How about when your working as a hotel concierge and one of the famous pro heroes (can be anyone u like, maybe Bakugou? 😉) comes in for a relaxin vacation from doing so many hero work. He doesn’t know us, but he will. 🥴

you are a genius, muah!

thank you anon for inspiring this piece.

Room Service! - Bakugo Katsuki

warnings: smut! (minors gtfo), oral (male receiving & female receiving), mentions of cum, size kink, mirror sex (cause it slaps), just a raunchy hook up between two consenting adults (so pro hero katsukiii)

Tonight was making your job really fucking annoying. You sat at your desk answering phone calls about which pro hero would be staying at your hotel (the only bane of your existence).

Of course you can’t disclose that information because of privacy but you didn’t even know that yourself. You sigh as you hang up the phone on yet another greedy fangirl trying to get closer to whomever would be staying here.

You start to wonder who it might be; that 7 foot tall red head or maybe the sexy blonde who could make you blow whenever he wanted.

It was no secret you’d been a fan of Mr. Dynamight since his earlier days of hero work; your coworkers often caught you doodling your name and his last name on a piece of paper like a high school girl with a monster crush. Your mind wandered, thinking of what you’d do-what you’d say if Dynamight walked into your lobby right-

“Yo. I’ve got a reservation under Katsuki Bakugo.” A raspy voice rang in your ears to snap you out of your daydream, making you jump in surprise. Holy shit, it’s him! Fuck. Stay calm.

“Oh! U-uh.. Welcome Mr. Dynamigh- I mean Bakugo.” You stutter, palms clammy and shaking as you look his name up in the computer.

“You new or somethin’?” Bakugo asked, red eyes peering over the counter and straight down at your body.

Even though this isn’t his first time staying here for vacations he’s never seen a hot little thing like you working the desk. All dressed up in an orange button up blouse and a black pencil skirt he could just lift up and have his way with you in. Damn you look good in orange.

You notice his gaze and turn your attention back to the computer, internally screaming as you realize Katsuki Bakugo is fucking staring at you.

“No. Actually this is my third month here. I usually work mornings but we’re unfortunately incredibly shortstaffed tonight so.. here I am.” You nervously laugh, spelling his name wrong about fifty times out of anxiousness before finally finding his name and room number.

“Room 202, sir. Would you like for me to escort you?” You question, standing from your seat and stretching your limbs since you’ve been sitting in that damned chair all night.

Bakugo drank the shape of your body in, following your curves with his eyes and licking his lips enough for you to see.

“Nah, I got it. You just sit your pretty ass down. I might call you for somethin’ later.” Katsuki says with a wink, hauling his luggage in those big strong arms of his off to the elevator, fuck.

Is he being hot on purpose?

You’re left at your desk hot and bothered. You couldn’t help it but your mind was just filled with all the filthy things you’d do to Katsuki. Thank god no one else came through the lobby for most of the night because with the way you felt right now, how could a girl focus on anything?

Almost an hour goes by quickly, your daydreams and fantasies haulting when you hear the phone ring. Sigh. You reluctantly pick it up, rolling your eyes as you brace to hear yet another fan girl’s screaming.

“Hello, This is Y/N. How can I help you?” You say monotonously, looking down at your nails.

“Hey, sexy desk lady. This you?” The same raspy voice that ached your pussy sang to you.

“Th-this is she.” You gasp, so entranced that you actually answered to the nickname.

“What’s on the menu? I hope all meals include sexy concierges.” He says, his smirk audible. “‘M hungry.”

“Oh. Well we do have a steak dinner I could bring up to you. How does that sound?” You stutter, hardly able to seem professional with his blatant flirting.

“Perfect. Oh and tell your boss or whoever the fuck you answer to that your shift is over. I want you in my room.” Katsuki declared, confidence dripping over every word.

“B-But sir, I can’t just-“ You try to speak, interrupted.

“Customer’s always right.” He teased before hanging up, making sure you got the point.

You take in a breathe, taken aback by how swiftly he can turn you on just by speaking to you. You stand from your chair, almost falling back down from the shakiness of your legs. Fuck it if Bakugo wanted you so badly, here you come. Stumbling into the kitchen you put in Bakugo’s order and tell your manager that the Pro-Hero wants you to deliver his food and keep him company.

“Shit! Hopefully he leaves a good tip. He’s gonna put in such a good rating for us and....” She rambled, the rest of her quarrel falling on deaf ears. You were too busy creaming in your panties at the thought of Bakugo grabbing you by the fucking hair and just-

“Order up!” The chef yells snapping you out of your mindless filth. He’s wheeling over the room service cart for you to take upstairs and shouting something about giving it to him hot.

“Smile, Y/N. Make a good first impression.” Your manager said, leading you to the elevator with one hand on your back.

The ride up felt like the longest elevator ride in history. The walk down the hallway seemed even longer as you look for his room.

200...201....202.

You stand at his door, heart threatning to leap out of your chest as you knock softly.

“Who is it?” Katsuki shouted through the door and some loud rock music.

“Room Service!” You manage, hoping you hid your nervousness well. You hear the music die down and the lock of the door click unlocked.

As the door swung open your eyes beheld the image of Bakugo’s toned and muscular torso without a shirt. His sweatpants hung lazily on his hips, the waistband of his boxers showing proudly. As your eyes unknowingly travel further down you get an eyeful of what he’s packing. And baby it is heat.

His dick-print was so prominent it was almost astounding . Is this him soft? You quickly look back upwards at the tall God in front of you and look at his handsome face. Gruff and just manly looking. His hair was tossed all over his head, eyes low and intense as he smirked at you. How on earth can one man be this attractive?

“Ah. Right on time. Get yer ass in here.” Bakugo rasped, groaning at the sight of you. You push yourself and the cart inside, swallowing the lump in your throat. Bakugo walks in front of you and puts out the joint he smoked just fresh out of the shower.

The employee in you told you to scold him for smoking in the building. But for now, hell, let him do whatever he wants. You push the cart into the small living area of his suite, Bakugo sitting on the loveseat in front of you.

“Damn. You look good behind that cart, ya know that?” He says, looking you up and down with those plush lips between his teeth.

You feel your body get hot, not a single thought behind your eyes.

“I-I u-uhm.” You choke. Katsuki stands from the couch and walks towards you like a lion who had just cornered a gazelle. His hands pull you towards him, face so close to yours he could kiss you if he wanted.

“Speak up, sexy. It’s no fun if you don’t talk back. Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” He purred, leaning into your neck and leaving a chaste kiss.

Your eyes flutter, moaning softly as his kisses become deeper. The trail he left led all the way up to your ear, gasping as he nibbles lightly on your earlobe.

“I-I’m sorry. I am a little ner- ah- vous.” You mewl, feeling like you might drop to the floor as his hands snuck down from your waist and onto your ass.

“Mhm. Just relax. I don’t bite. Well, from the looks of it you like a little biting don’t you?” He teased, letting his hands do more talking for him.

His hands knead and caress your body as he leaned down to kiss you. It was the hottest kiss you’ve ever experienced; his big hands exploring your body while nibbling your bottom lip as he pulled away for air only to dive right back into your mouth. He picked you up and led you to the loveseat; hands planted what seemed like permanently into your ass as he sat you on his lap.

He starts undoing the buttons of your shirt, eventually getting annoyed with the stupid blouse and just ripping it open. You gasp as all the buttons pop and fall on the floor, your bra on full display for Katsuki as he hissed.

“Fuck. ‘So sexy.” He huffs, pulling your tits out of your bra and taking one into his mouth. You’re turning into jelly in his hands, mindlessly grinding your aching pussy against his groin and moaning into the room.

“Shit. You’re an eager one, aren’t you?” Katsuki rasped, pressing a thumb onto your covered clit for you to grind on. Your breathing hitched, knowing he can feel how wet you are through your panties as he took your nipple back into his mouth. Suddenly he stops, causing you to whine from the loss if his mouth.

“Wait, baby. I wanna see what that pretty mouth can do.” Katsuki lulled, pressing his fingers in your mouth while you happily suck on them. You climb off his lap and situate yourself on your knees in front of him, pulling his sweats and boxers down without a second thought.

Fuck was he big. He had girth and length with these sickeningly prominent veins, his pretty dick already deliciously leaking pre-cum. You try not to moan at the upward curve in it, imagining all the spots he can hit with it in just the right angle. And it was heavy too, the spring of his dick leaving his briefs causing it to smack right on his abs. You look up at Bakugo’s eyes who haven’t left you since you got on your knees.

“Go on, sexy. Show me what you got.” He coos, sighing as you take him into your wet mouth.

You tease him a little, swiping your tongue over the head to lick up some of that pre cum. You’re staring at him with hazy eyes, sticking your tongue out and sliding your mouth down until you’re taking him into your throat. Gagging and drooling you bob your head, slurping a bit as he grabbed your hair.

“S-Shiit, baby.” He moans, your drool dripping all over the place as he fucked your mouth with a fist full of your hair. As he’s pulling you up and down on his cock you hollow your cheeks in time with his movements, tears streaming down your face and smudging your mascara.

“You look so fucking hot with my dick in your mouth. Fuck.” He hissed, letting go of your hair to let you get up and breathe. You take his cock out of your mouth with a *pop* and stroke him, all your slobber being the perfect lube as you pump and twist up and down with your hand.

Bakugo leans into the loveseat, his head hanging back into the chair as he cussed. You were making him feel so good, shit you were pretty close to making him cum.

“Want me inside you, baby?” He managed, your mouth and hands taking his breath away. You pull away from his dick again, blinking away your tears.

“Uh-huh.” You nod, the fastest thing you could say. Before you know it you’re scooped up and flung onto the bed, your skirt and panties discarded somewhere.

You don’t even ask him to return the favor. To be honest you didn’t need him to. But the way his tongue flicked your clit around was enough to intoxicate anyone. You can’t help the loud moans you let out, legs trembling as he stuck his tongue inside you. He teased your folds with his tongue, sloppily making out with your pussy until you’re completely blank-headed.

“Look at me, baby.” He hummed, immediately wrapping his lips around your clit.

Your eyes roll back, trying hard to look at his face as he devoured you. His fierce eyes caught your hazy gaze, a fucked out expression written all over your face as he quite literally sucked your orgasm out of you. Katsuki’s lips left your pussy, his chin glistening in your slick with a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he should stay here more often.

“Heh. First time in my life a woman’s left me speechless.” He says sitting up, his dick standing at attention right above your cunt. The bastard starts tapping his cock on your already sensitive clit with a devilish smirk, biting his lip at your reaction.

Every tap made your eyes cross, your puffy clit throbbing at the sensation. Your whines become desperate, causing Katsuki to crave the satisfaction of your begging. With a raised eyebrow he pushed himself only half way inside you, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat.

“You want it? Hm? I’m talkin’ to you.” Katsuki teased, raising your face to look at him by your chin.

God you looked so sexy like this; legs spread, thighs quivering from all the pleasure, a tantalizingly dumb look on your face.

“Y-yes.. Katsuki p-please.” You plead, mewling when he starts moving but way too slow for your liking.

“All of it, yeah?” He further questioned, really enjoying teasing you. The look on your face as he plunged deeper inside you just enough to stretch you was priceless, a little shriek escaping you.

“Yess, god yes.” You bellow, desperate for your itch to finally be scratched. With a dark chuckle Katsuki slams all of his length inside your gummy walls, your head thrown back into the pillows at the brute force. And that dull stretch felt so good, as if Katsuki’s dick was made to fuck you.

“So biig- ngh!” You struggle to say, covering your mouth as you notice you’re screaming for him. Bakugo takes your hand off your mouth and pinned it above your head, smirking down at the dazed face before him.

“I know, baby. So good for me. So fuckin’ tight.” Bakugo rambles, rutting his hips into yours as he lifts your thighs up and throws them over his broad shoulders.

The new position sent shockwaves through your whole body, your cries so audible you swore you heard them echo in his room. His pace was slow but deliberate, that fucking curve hitting that spot over and over again.

“Oh my god! Oh my godd!” You chant, your wet walls clenching down onto his cock threatening to cum all over him.

“Thats it, cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” Bakugo urged, taking one hand and rubbing insane circles into your throbbing clit his thrusts becoming more brutal as you feel him hit your cervix in the most pleasurable way.

You say something about cumming for him or something, the sentence scrambled as you boil over. Your face was too sinful for words to explain, tongue hanging out as you pant and fat tears bubbling in your eyes.

“I’m not finished. Turn around.” Katsuki demands, smacking your thigh to get you to muster whatever strength you have left to turn around.

Next thing you know you’re bent over, Bakugo plunging back inside as if he had already missed the feeling of your sweet walls. His dick was made for this position, the upward curve hitting that sweet spot perfectly.

“God, look at you..” Bakugo says, his gaze meeting the full length mirror in front of his bed. “So fucking sexy.” He muttered, pulling you by your hair to make you behold what he was looking at.

Your eyes meet the glass reflection of you being absolutely railed senselessly by a man you’d desired since you were a teenager. And it all felt so good. You watch his movements, every flex of his muscles, every heave of his chest as he panted. He was so gorgeous. Even when he was pounding your poor pussy into submission; all sweaty and sticky he was really something to marvel at.

“Fuuck you’re gonna make me cum. That’s it baby, just like that.” Bakugo moans, grabbing a fist full of your hair and smacking your ass all while locking eyes with the mirror and back down again to where you both connect.

You’re so fucked out you can hardly speak, chanting filthy words to coax him into cumming while throwing your ass back on him in time with his thrusts. He’s cussing up a storm, his pace speeding up as he hummed nasty words back at you.

“Want me to cum, baby? Yeah? Shiit, you’re pussy’s so fucking good.” He groans, snapping his hips into you and biting a little into your shoulder. Soon you’re cumming for him again; you don’t know how or when but a mixture of his disgusting words and that big fat cock sliding in and out of you just pushed you over the edge yet again.

“Fuck.” Bakugo hissed, pulling out of your gummy walls to cum all over your ass. He’s pumping himself for a while, staring down at your glazed ass and moaning at the sight.

Bakugo nearly shoves himself back inside you when he sees you reach back and swipe some onto your finger and taste his cum.

“Shit.” You both gasp, panting and sharing the same high as Bakugo jumps up to get a towel. You lay limp and damn near lifeless on the bed as he wipes your ass off, smacking it once it was clean.

“That was the best fucking room service I’ve ever ordered.”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #segsmail 🌈#anon you da best #queue made me do it 🥴

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estrel · 3 years ago

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for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too. PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one.

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now.

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles.

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.”

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know.

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits.

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued.

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea.

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow.

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush.

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand.

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]

#b*gen #bookshelf #spnprideweek #sam and cas #rambleoncas writing #roc original #my post #theedorksinlove #userdainty #klinejack #usershey #creativecaviar #userpris #usersully #spnclownpals #hope it was okay to tag!!

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suicidalslasher · 4 years ago

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𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 ➤ 𝑱𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑫.

Nothing but porn w/o a plot. There actually is a plot and if anybody is confused on the ending, I can explain but it’s more porn than anything.... so, here you go, you filthy animals.

WARNINGS: choking, degradation, use of a gun (brief), a lot of dirty talk... of course. Oral, m on f / f on m. Fingering. Squirting. (brief.)

!! Female reader. Readers pronouns are she/her. !!

ps: if you enjoy my content and have a dollar or two to spare, here’s my ko-fi.

“You don’t know me, but something terrible is going to happen. That boy you call your boyfriend isn't a man at all, in fact, he's a monster and he's only using you to kill you, for your blood to be on his hands, for him to be the cause of your death. He's twisted, that way. He's not as nice as he portrays himself to be. If I were you — and once upon a time ago, I was in your shoes, I was you — I'd get the hell out of that relationship and quickly." Jason looked up from the letter his girlfriend, (Y/N), had received in her locker. His lips are pressed together tightly into a white slash, his jaw clenched and in a sharp tone, he asks, "So.... what? You're going to break up with me over a letter that a complete stranger put in your locker?" He sneered, grinding his teeth together before he stood up, moving the chair back as he does so.

The piece of furniture loudly squeaks against the floor, making (Y/N) grimace and flinch at the obnoxious noise. It's not the only thing in the room being annoying, though. "No." (Y/N) answers, giving an eyeroll in return to his question as she folds her arms across her chest. "I want to see the monster you supposedly are, that's all." She adds. "This isn't the first or even the second letter that says those words. There's been an endless amount and quite frankly, my beloved J.D, I'm suspicious on what it exactly means." "You believe the notes, do you?" He questions, stepping closer to his girlfriend, eyebrow arched as he waits for her response. "I do..... or I don't. That's up to you to decide for me. So, enlighten me, Jason, are you a monster in disguise or are you not and someone's simply playing a trick on not only me but the both of us?" "What is it you're trying to do to me, (Y/N)?" "Oh my God, fuck me like you hate me, fuck me like the monster that you supposedly are, according to the pieces of paper I receive every day.. I want to see whether or not it's true." Jason is silent, as if he had gone mute. He was standing inches away from her face, doing - saying - nothing. Only... staring, like he was a starved predator and she was his only prey, his first feast of the day.

Though, she knows the air conditioner isn't on, and neither are the windows open, (Y/N) shivers as if it were cold. But it was his eyes that were frosty. His eyes were two lifeless pools of abyss-black, an ice-cold stare he was giving. Finally, he speaks for what feels like ages since he last talked, although it had only been a minute or two since he did, "I hate you. Despise you, actually. Don't even know why we continue to have this fucking conversation. You're seriously so fucking annoying," He spat. (Y/N) wasn't sure if he meant the words or not, either way, it did feel like a stab in the chest. She purses her lips together and she goes to say something but before she could, his hand is wrapped around her throat and her back is pushed up against the wall. "I should strangle you." "Is that a promise?" She gasped out. "Once I start, I might not be able to stop." He informs, clicking his tongue against the root of his mouth. His grip, however, gets tighter and as fucked up as it may sound, (Y/N) grows wetter, she squeezes her thighs tighter together and has to bite back a moan at the feeling of his hand around her throat. "I don't care what you do," (Y/N) replied truthfully, voice low and groggy, as if she had just woken up. "Just fuck me." "My pleasure." To her disappointment, Jason drops his hand down at his side before gesturing to the floor with a motion of his finger. "Get on your knees, this cock isn't going to suck itself." (Y/N) is more than happy to oblige as she crashed to her knees, quickly, undoing his belt buckle and unbuttoning his jeans. In only a matter of seconds, he's got his pants and boxer briefs off, hanging down his ankles and his dick is being swallowed by his favorite cock-slut.

Her eyes are fluttered shut as she tries to concentrate on pleasing him. And as always, she's doing a great job at doing so. Then he remembers — this was a punishment and she deserved to be punished. She wanted for him to unleash the beast, after all, right? So, he would be doing that. Jason growls and grabs the back of her neck, fingers finding their way up to her hair as he then forces her further down onto her cock, making her sputter and choke, a few drops of spit soaking his shaft as he face-fucks (Y/N)'s throat. "Take it, slut. You wanted this, remember? Wanted to see the man behind the mask, well, here I am, baby, standing proudly right in front of you. Take my cock, choke on it like the filthy, little bitch you are. That's all you are, isn't it, sweetheart? You aren't important enough for me to keep around, according to the letters you get. Only keep you around so I can fuck you like the desperate whore you are. Is that what you want to hear? Huh?" (Y/N)'s eyes are full of tears and she knows, without even looking in the mirror, her cheeks are stained with mascara and her lipstick is smudged, as her throat is getting pounded by the man above her, his grip on her hair is too tight, it's too much and yet not enough.

She wants more — no, scratch that — needs more. "Desperate cock-hungry bitch, aren't you, baby? Starving for me to feed you my cock, to feed you my cum. You'll just open your legs to anyone, everyone, too, huh? Especially me, even when you know exactly what I've done.... letters or no letters, you know the kind of person I am.. and yet, I'm the monster? You're no saint, either, miss (L/N).You're as crazy and as fucked up as I am." (Y/N) nearly (key-word there) makes a mess in her panties. And she hasn't touched herself at all yet, neither has Jason placed a finger yet on her.

Jason, on the other end, notices how her fingernails are digging themselves into his bare, naked thighs rougher than they had been previously. There's also more sweat pooling at the top of her forehead, too. He was making a complete mess out of her and was loving every single second of it. "What is it, baby girl? You want to cum for me? Going to cum for me, untouched? Oh, so naughty, filthy little thing," He cooed, slowing down his movements as he continues to push his dick further down her throat, feeling more saliva spill out of her mouth and wetting his cock as he does so.

"Go on then, baby. Make a mess all in your panties. I know you can do it." And, well, yeah, just like that (Y/N) is coming, untouched, all while Jason does the same, feeding her his cum with a grunt of her name escaping his lips. (Y/N) hums happily as she pulls back, wiping what remains on her cheeks onto her fingers, coating her digits with his ejeculation and slips the juices into her mouth, making sure to poke her tongue out and give Jason a show — she wanted to prove how much of a slut she really was, and how desperate she was to have him bury his cock in her pussy. She needed the pain, wanted to feel it. She wanted it rough. "So... what else do you have in plan?" (Y/N) wonders, looking up at him with a smirk. That little grin placed on her lips is quick to fall down into a worried frown when Jason pulls a gun out at her, pressing it against her skull. "I could kill you since I got what I needed." His voice was as devoid of life as an ossuary and his eyes were still soul-penetrating. Not even a hint of a smile, not even a sign of amusement in the tone of voice. Surely, he wasn't being serious.... was he? He presses the end of the gun to her mouth, making her lips part open as he presses the gun inside. "Could blow your brains out, right here, right now.... since that's all I'm going to do to you, anyways, right? I'll kill you eventually, why not now?" Jason pulls the trigger.

It's a blank. Of fucking course it is. "I'm only kidding," He said, chuckling lowly as he places the gun back into the pocket of his trench coat. "You're a fucking dick." (Y/N) hisses, getting up on her feet and raising her hand up, slapping him on the cheek. "Don't scare me like that," "You're the one who was sucking my dick, first of all.... and you are also the one who wanted me to show you just how awful I could be... so, it's your fault." Jason said. "Oh, shut up and kiss me already. 'm tired of this roleplay. Just want you inside me. Now." "As you wish, your majesty." Jason laughs, bending forward as he picks his girlfriend up, throwing her over his shoulder and carries her to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot.

He then falls down onto the bed, letting his girlfriend fall on the mattress as well, (Y/N) squealing loudly as she tries to get comfortable and find a cozy spot along the mountain of pillows that rest against the headboard of the bed. "Can I at least see if you're as sweet as you look?" Jason asks, licking his lips. For obvious reasons, (Y/N) doesn't argue. All she does is nod her head and lets a breathless pant out, answering with a, 'yes, please'. She shimmies out of her pants, pulling her panties down as she strips out of both. Once they're off, she throws them elsewhere, not worried where they end up nor does she have time to worry about such things because the moment she's naked, Jason is pulling her legs apart and is quick to bury his face in her thighs.

"Oh, God, fuck. Should've given me a warning, baby." She whines, fingers brushing through his hair as she tugs his black locks, pulling him closer, dragging his face closer to her cunt. "Need you so badly...." She murmurs, feeling the smile of her boyfriend's face against her heat. His tongue dances against her clit, flicking this way and that. He was always phenomenal with his mouth, more so his tongue than anything else. (Other than his dick, of course.) (Okay, everything about J.D, other than his temper, was amazing.) There were no words to describe it other than perfection and magical. "Jason, baby..." Hearing her pleas and knowing he's doing an excellent job, he continues, this time adding a finger and pushing it deep inside, earning a loud gasp to spill from (Y/N)'s lips. "Jason, fuck!" She's wet, this much is obvious, but she's leaving a puddle not only on his face but beneath her. She'll have to wash the comforter later, she hopes she isn't leaving any stains behind either and can wash it out in time before it does leave an imprint.

These thoughts are replaced when Jason adds another finger, and she isn't so sure if he has two inside or three, all (Y/N) knows is it feels so fucking good and if he doesn't stop, she's going to cum soon. "S-Stop, Jason, please.... want to cum by your cock, wanna cum with you." Jason doesn't stop, despite her cries. He's pushing her thighs down, holding her still as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, his tongue is everywhere and she feels so hot, feels as if every part of her body is on fire. "Jason, Jason," (Y/N)'s moans come out like a broken record; only able to play the bit of his name on repeat, only able to speak his name and nothing else. "Jason, baby, oh.... I'm.... I'm going to cum!" And within a matter of seconds, that familiar sensation she had been feeling for the last few minutes in the pit of her stomach finally explodes and she's shooting her orgasm all over his fingers and on his face and... wait, did she- "You squirted, holy shit..." Jason pulls back, laughing as he wipes his face off of with his shirt. "That's a first. Just by my fingers too, fuck, baby girl.... can't even begin to imagine what you can do when I stuff my cock deep inside your cunt." "Well, don't imagine then and just do it. Fuck me." Jason chuckles as he takes off the rest of his clothes. Which wasn't much other than his coat and the shirt. (Y/N) giggles, not realizing that was all he had on. Nothing but his trenchcoat and a shirt underneath, his lower half being completely bare. "What?" He asks, dropping the jacket and his shirt at the end of the bed before he's crawling up and over on (Y/N), wrapping her legs around him as he presses the tip of his cock at her entrance, teasing her for a second or two. "Nothing. Just waiting for you." "Anything for my darling." With this, he presses his cock steadily at her entrance before he's leaning forward, pressing his chest on top of hers, Jason slides his cock deep within her walls at a slow pace before he's fully inside her, his own mouth parting open at the tightness that clenches around him. "Always so tight, (Y/N), fuck." "I'm not going to last long," She answers honestly. Jason agreed, nodding his head rapidly as he moves, little by little, bit by bit. "Me, either, baby. You feel so good, always fucking so good." "Jason...." (Y/N) mewls, feeling that sensation clouding over her once more, every thrust he gave sent a wave of electricity to shock her. Her orgasm would be stronger than the one she had a few seconds ago, this much she knew.

"Jason, baby, fuck.... you feel so good. Love feeling you inside me," She gasps, her feet were pointed like a dancer's, her toes curling and uncurling. Her pelvis rose from the bed as if seeking something in the air, Jason had to hold her down against the mattress, placing her hands above her head so she could remain still. "Jason, please, I'm so close, I'm-" He cuts her off by pressing his lips onto hers. "Tell me you love me." He whispers, slowing the movements of his hips. She laughs, pulling back and presses her face in the crook of his neck, playfully giving him a bite. "You're the one who lit the match and burned me earlier, telling me you hate me.... why should I say it first?" "Cause you and I damn well know I don't hate you, I could never hate you, darling, so tell me you love me, please." "I love you, Jason Dean, now cum inside me and fill me up like the desperate, cum slut I am. I wanna feel you." Jason groans as he presses (Y/N) back against the pillows, leaving one hand off of her arm as he now cups her face, crashing his lips back against hers hungrily. "Cum with me, baby girl, cum with me." (Y/N) musters a few curse words, letting them fall into Jason's open mouth as they kiss wildly and crazily, the type of kiss you'd only see in pornagraphic movies. (What they were doing too, obviously, could be in a film as well.) "I love you, I love you, I love you." Jason groans and spills his seed, filling (Y/N) up as he shoots his load deep inside her walls, moaning the same words she just said into the kiss. "Fuckin, goddamn..." He groans, pulling back as he falls next to her. "Never realized you were so naughty." "Yes you do. That's why you started dating me, why you fell in love with me... shall I continue?" "Correction: Didn't realize death was such a turn on for you." "That's fair." (Y/N) answered with a giggle, grabbing Jason and cuddling up into his side, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I've still got to thank Veronica for being part of this, giving me the roleplay idea and everything." "Still don't understand why you're best friends with my ex," "She introduced us. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here; We wouldn't be together." "That's fair." He mocks her words, chuckling as he kisses the top of her head. "Still, I'd never hurt you. You know this, right?" (Y/N) nods and hums, drawing tiny figures on Jason's chest with the tip of her finger. "I know. Unless I ask for it." She jokes but she and Jason knew there were truth in her words. "Filthy thing, you are (Y/N) (L/N)." "Yes.... but you love me, though, Jason Dean." "That I do." "And I love you." "I love you too... although you fit the label; 'geek in the streets, freak in the sheets' perfectly." He jokes.

"Can't believe you squirted still and love being degraded as much as you do, love being talked like your feelings aren't valuable... never expected this from you, missy." "Says the one who killed others... you crazed bastard. I knew what I was getting myself into when I got together with you, J.D. I'm not stupid." "And see, that's why I love you. You love me and the monsters in my closet." "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and kiss me, killer." "Keep that attitude up and I'm gonna have to kill that pussy of yours." "Do it. I'm ready for a round two." (Y/N) replied with a smirk. "Just can't get enough of this cock, can you?" "Nope." "Truly are a cock slut." Jason replied with a 'tsk' before he grabs (Y/N), placing her on top of him. "Ride me, baby girl. You already know what Daddy likes." "Don't have to tell me twice."

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hongism · 3 years ago

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1:58 am - c. jongho 18+

↣ pairing: jongho x fem!reader ↣ genre: fluff, smut ↣ wc: 2.0k ↣ for @ppersonna: “HELLO MY BESTIE RATTY PLS JONGHO WITH 25 - Being somewhere you’re not supposed to be 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.” ↣ warnings: language, oral sex: f

In your defense, Jongho is both a maniac and insatiable. What started as a lovely movie night between the two of you, with his roommate Yeosang curled up in the armchair by the couch, has quickly devolved into leagues of stress for you and endless amusement for Jongho. Yeosang is (thankfully) off in dreamland and fast asleep despite the movie still going in the background, although that does nothing to quell your current nerves as Jongho’s hand is moving further up by the minute.

It started at your kneecap, two fingers tracing mindless patterns into your skin under the blanket. Then he slipped to the inside of your knee and clutched tight at your flesh before pulling up the inside of your thigh.

Now, he has a hand basically over your crotch, close enough to make you sweat but far enough away to have you refraining from squeezing your thighs shut over his fingers.

And being a cocky little shit, of course Jongho knows exactly what he’s doing to you — if the smirk curling over his lips is any indication at least. You aren’t about to scar yourself or Yeosang by fooling around on the already stained leather couch in their apartment, as much as you really want to give in to his lingering touches.

You haven’t been paying attention to the movie on the screen for at least an hour, maybe longer than that because you don’t even recall the name of the damn film at this point, and all your focus is honed in on the fingers pressing into your thigh. Jongho won’t stop teasing with his touches either. Every few seconds, he squeezes just enough to startle you into sitting up straight just when you’ve recovered from the last touch. You’re certain he’s trying to seem interested in the movie given the way he keeps making interested noises or scowling at the screen, but then his smirk returns and you know what he’s really up to.

In short, you have had more than enough of his fun and games, growing increasingly frustrated with each passing second. Your body is so pent up and overheated that sweat is pooling at your brow, and that’s what makes you nudge his hand away as a last-ditch effort to save yourself from this teasing hell he’s trapped you in. Yet this isn’t your apartment and you can’t very well escape to his bedroom without looking suspicious to Yeosang. As far as his roommate is concerned, you and Jongho are still just friends, even if there is an ungodly amount of sexual tension lingering between the two of you like this.

Water. Yes, you need water. And where can you get water? The kitchen of course. Perfect plan. You should be safe from Jongho’s antics there, no?

“Feeling alright, Y/n?”

As it turns out, you are very much not safe in the kitchen.

You nearly throw the glass in your hand at Jongho’s head out of sheer shock when he sneaks up on you, creeping into the kitchen behind you like a damn ghost. You manage to hold back from doing that, but a small yelp escapes your lips instead. Jongho laughs at that, continuing to chuckle under his breath even when you try to level him with a sharp glare. He has the audacity to look absolutely delectable at nearly two o’clock in the morning wearing nothing but a stupid black t-shirt and stupid grey sweatpants with his stupid hands shoved deep in the pockets like he wasn’t trying to practically finger you on the couch moments ago.

“I don’t know, am I?” It made sense in your head, although that might be because of the haze of arousal over your brain because once it actually comes out, you’re wondering why the hell you said that.

“Well, you felt more than alright just a few minutes ago.” He’s smiling again, another lascivious grin that has you sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Not here,” you hiss back as a last-ditch effort to talk yourself out of this (again).

“Because Yeosang is in the other room? Come on, Y/n, you know half the fun is in the risk of getting caught.”

A scoff passes through your lips, loud enough to resound through the small kitchen.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re painfully aroused. Are we done stating the obvious?”

Throwing this glass at his head is a lot more tempting now, but that would certainly cause a ruckus and Yeosang would wake up in a heartbeat.

“Only because you were fucking feeling me up on the couch like it’s your goddamn job!”

Jongho crosses the kitchen in three seconds flat, suddenly so close to you that you can’t breathe your own air without feeling the heat of his breath against your lips. You stumble back and hit the edge of the counter behind you. Jongho doesn’t give you a moment to recover, catching your wrists in his grip and pressing them hard against the surface of that same counter.

“Careful there, doll, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone up, would you?”

“No, that’s not what I want,” you exhale. It’s not enough to quell the desire in your gut, especially not when Jongho’s fucking thigh is pressed between your legs and leaving you squirming. He knows how you feel about his thighs thanks to an unfortunate admission on your part one night when you had too much alcohol (and unfortunately Yeosang knows too since he was an unwilling participant in that conversation).

“What do you want then? Although, I’m fairly certain that I know.” Again, Jongho’s gaze flicks down over your body, enough to be obvious about the way he’s checking you out from head to toe, but he returns to staring you in the eye after a second.

“Shut up and eat me out already,” you hiss under your breath. In the same sentence, you free your wrists of his grasp and push down hard on his shoulders. It’s nothing compared to his strength — he’s more than strong enough to resist your futile efforts, but he goes along with it anyway and lets you push him to his knees in front of the counter.

“You’re lucky I never make you beg, baby. If I did, you’d never get to cum.”

Tempting, you think, but right now you aren’t in the mood to be edged or teased anymore. Jongho did his fair share of that for over two hours, so all that is on your mind is a release under his skilled tongue.

“Please, Jongho, I’d like to do this before Yeosang wakes up…”

His hands are already curled around your pajama shorts, taking the soft fabric into his grip and pulling down with no resistance. A sharp inhale follows as the cold air hits your nether regions, and Jongho lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder as he bunches your shorts into the palm of his hand.

“Be glad I didn’t take you on the couch right in front of him then.”

Then Jongho is smiling up at you from between your legs, and you would be lying if you said that isn’t one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen in your life. You brace yourself on the counter, knuckles white from the effort of clinging to the marble, and the man beneath you takes his teasing a step further. Soft lips caress the inside of your knee over the spot he clung to for the better part of an hour, then he follows the same path his hand took as well. He doesn’t stop until his nose is flush with your folds, and even then he exhales against you in a way that has a chill rushing down your spine. Your curl away from the counter, unintentionally pressing your hips closer to his mouth in the same fluid motion. It’s enough to make his nose hit your clit dead-on in a way that has a strangled moan escaping your lips. You fling a hand up to your mouth (too late as it does absolutely nothing to conceal the sound).

“Now it sounds like you’re trying to wake Yeosang up, doll.”

“I’d like to see you stay quiet when I’m sucking you off next time.” You manage to smirk a little, just enough to be playful and throw him off a little. He’s just as quick to retaliate, which is both a good and bad thing for you because his next move is to hoist your other leg onto his shoulder, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to clamp your thighs around his face. You have to bite the side of your thumb to quell the noises bubbling up your throat; your remark seems to have been enough to spur him fully into action, his tongue brushing between your folds until he reaches your hole with practiced ease. You can’t count on one hand how many times you’ve indulged in this — his tongue pressing at your entrance like he has no other purpose in life, eating you out with more enthusiasm than ever, drawing so many noises out of you that it’s getting difficult to keep quiet.

“Jongho?”

The man between your legs freezes but doesn’t move away from your cunt, staring up at you from between your legs without blinking for so long that you think he’s truly stuck like that. Admittedly, you’re stuck where you are too, both because he’s got your legs around his face and on account of Yeosang’s sudden intrusion on your otherwise intimate moment. Your gaze goes straight to the archway to the kitchen. The kitchen island is tall enough to block the view of your lower half, but if Yeosang steps even one more foot into the room, he will certainly see what Jongho is up to. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before he does enter, and you’re watching with peaked anxiety as Jongho sidles up your body into a standing position again.

His hands find your hips, and next thing you know, he’s moving you around and pushing you until your back hits the kitchen island. It protects you from possible exposure to Yeosang, which proves to be a good move on his part because Yeosang pokes his head in the archway a second later. Jongho moves to the side enough to avoid suspicion but you’re still quite nude from the waist down and screwed if Yeosang decides to come further in.

“Oh, there you two are. The movie’s over?” Yeosang says, easing his weight against the doorframe.

“Yeah, you fell asleep pretty early on honestly. But it’s 2 am. Go back to sleep. We’re just picking up some snacks we pulled out while you were asleep.”

You think that excuse is far too easy to see through, especially if Yeosang decides to even so much as glance around the kitchen to see that you are certainly not doing any cleaning whatsoever. You squeeze your eyes shut. Looking at Yeosang right now would be a mistake and you would probably give away what you and Jongho have been up to in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’m too sleepy to help you anyway. See you in the morning.” Yeosang stifles a yawn, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth, then lets his arms fall into a stretch. He lingers for only one more second before disappearing from the archway. You exhale the second he disappears, shifting to stare Jongho down as your heart continues to race rampantly in your chest without relent.

“That was a fucking mood killer,” you mutter before crossing your arms over your chest. Jongho huffs out a sigh and puffs his cheeks full of air. He stretches a hand out to touch your bare hip again.

“Let me make it up to you?”

#atzinc #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #jongho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #ateez timestamp #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez drabble #caly.writes #hahahah hell yeah new tag #jongho drabble #jongho scenario #jongho timestamp

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lordabovehelpme · 3 years ago

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Tied to You - Bucky Barnes x Reader

For my lovely best friend. Happy birthday my dear, I hope you are having a wonderful morning and this puts a smile on your face. Trust me, it’s been hard to keep this a secret from you for so long, but I hope you enjoy. I love you, and I will see you later!!!

Summary: You’re so happy to be standing before him, but something on his wrist brings you back to the very first time you met.

Warnings: f! reader, marriage

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

Excitement sends thrills up and down your spine, tingling through your toes and pooling in your stomach. You clutch the simple bouquet between your hands tighter and take a deep breath, trying to calm your frantic nerves.

Finally, after what seems like both an eternity and a millisecond, the classic “here comes the bride” starts to echo. Taking one more quick breath, you let your shoulders relax and start to turn the corner.

There you emerge from behind the doors of the little church in Brooklyn. Family and friends stand as you start your descent down the aisle. You meant to smile at the crying relatives, to give them some sort of comfort, but you can’t take your eyes off of him.

He stands before the altar, adorned in a black suit with a black tie. His hands stay clasped before him, but his striking blue eyes meet your own. They soften at the sight of you and his shoulders slightly shift towards you.

However, once you offer him a small smile, his eyes rack down your form and back up before meeting your gaze again. Usually his gaze causes you to fluster and try to hide away, but today you stand tall as you approach him.

He offers you a hand as you climb the few steps and you gladly take it. Handing the beautiful bouquet to your maid of honor, you look down at your clasped hands.

No longer does he shy away from you touching the metal, and no longer do you hesitate.

But something catches your eye as you settle before him. Right there on his metal wrist is a bracelet of thread. The one you made him all those years ago; bright yellows and blues, with tan and green. They all compliment the vibranium perfectly.

The sentiment is overwhelming and a gasp gets caught in your throat. “You wore it.” Your voice is small and he doesn’t need clarification to know what has puzzled you.

“Of course I did, doll.”

***

He can’t take his eyes off you. There you sit with some older ladies, spools of brightly colored thread by your side as you try and explain how to make a bracelet.

“Yeah, you’re starting to get it, this just crosses over here… see?” You lean over and point at one ladys horrible excuse of a friendship bracelet. They all laugh at one another and point out each other's mistakes, but become very defensive when their own flaws are pointed out.

“You should go talk to her!” An elbow is pressed into his side and Yori smirks.

“No I should not.” His eyes snap to face the older man, but not even a second passes before they beg to find your form again.

“Why not? She’s not getting any younger, and neither are you.”

Bucky sighs, but a small smile breaks onto his lips. “Haha, very funny. But I don’t even know what to say.”

Yori shrugs his shoulders. “Flatter her, girls love that. Tell her you love her eyes, her lips, her hair. Anything.”

A scoff falls from his lips as his head shakes. “I’m not going to suck up to her in hopes of a date.”

Yori places his hands over his own and he offers a smile to the soldier. His long white eyebrows twitch in the classic sign that the next few words will be uncharacteristically wise. The older man's eyes meet blue eyes and he gestures for him to lean in. Bucky follows and leans his head down.

“You will.”

Before the words even process in his head, Yori has already walked off, laughing loud as he clutches a hand to his chest. Once again, Bucky shakes his head at his antics.

“No I won’t.” He utters under his breath, before walking over to your little circle of mischievous old ladies.

You look up at him and he swears he might legitimately melt. “Hi!” You offer him a smile and he is already making funeral plans in his head.

“Oh, uh, hi.” Subconsciously, his flesh hand finds itself on the back of his neck, trying to rub away his nerves.

“Can I help you?”

He swears in his head, what does he need? He needs you. But he can’t say that. Swearing again, he tries to think of anything that would make sense to a normal human being.

“Yeah, I…” His eyes flicker around and land on one ladies bracelet. “I wanted to make a bracelet.”

Well great. Now he’s done it. He must look like the biggest dork in history. What was he thinking? Why couldn’t he just admire you from afar?

“Oh.” You genuinely look surprised. “Of course!” A wide smile breaks onto your face and you pat the empty seat next to you. “Come sit down and we’ll get you some thread.”

He can hear Yori’s laugh from the opposing corner. But, he follows your command and takes a seat next to you. Blue eyes follow your movements as you reach for a plastic container holding an entire rainbow of thread.

“So, what color are you thinking?”

He gives the rainbow one good look before sighing. “I don’t know.” You look at him as he offers a small awkward smile.

“Oh, okay. Well… do you know what type of bracelet you want?”

His fingers anxiously pick at the hem of his jacket. Shaking his head he murmurs, “Sorry, I know nothing about thread.”

Things seem to click in your mind that he has literally no idea about this stuff because you smile and slightly laugh. “Ahh, I see. That’s alright! Do you want me to choose some colors for you?”

His stomach flutters and he smiles at your soft laugh. “Yeah, doll, that would be nice.” The pet name slipped before he could even dream of stopping it. Once again, a long, loud, strand of curse words flood his mind.

Your movements stop, but quickly resume. In fact, you were so fast he’s not even sure you caught his slip. He watches with quizzical eyes as you pull brightly colored threads and measure them with your arms. Your fingertips move with ease as they tie the strands together and then hold it out to him. He reaches out and purposefully slides his fingers over your own.

“H-” your voice breaks out suddenly and he just smiles as you slightly fluster, clearing your throat you continue, “Here you go.”

He throws you a smirk and takes them from you. But then his plan of seduction hastingly halts when he realizes he has no idea what to do with the strands. So he just lets his hands rest in his lap as he stares down at the colorful strands.

“Do you need help?” You ask.

His head slowly tilts to meet your gaze and soft smile. He swears his heart stopped. Taking a gulp he prays you don't notice, he offers you a smile back. “Umm yeah.”

You scootch your chair next to his and reach over to grab the thread. Now he knows his heart stopped. You start explaining how to start a simple design but he can’t focus.

He means to focus, he wants to focus, but the smell of your shampoo wafts to his nose and makes his breaths longer. The subtle heat flowing from your skin to his where your arms slightly touch makes him want to close his eyes and lean in further to your touch.

“Are you paying attention?”

His eyes shoot open and heat rises to his cheeks. “Yes!”

One of your eyebrows twitch and amusement twinkles behind your eyes, but you continue where you stopped. He forces himself to listen and not be distracted any longer.

After about an hour of small talk and you helping him, finally the bracelet is long enough to tie off. Everytime your hand brushed his heart would skip a beat.

Now you tie the bracelet onto his wrist and cut the long ends. “There!” You smile at him and he nearly melts into a puddle beneath your feet.

“Thanks doll.” This time he doesn’t miss the way your body slightly stiffens and your eyes widen a tad.

“Umm, yeah.” You clasp your hands before you and open your mouth, but before you can say anything the older ladies call for you that they need your immediate help. You give him an apologetic smile, “Sorry, I have to go, but it was nice to meet you…” trailing off when you realize you don’t know his name.

“Bucky.”

Nodding at him, your smile widens from remorseful to joy. “Bucky, it was nice to meet you.”

He watches as you walk away, laughing and giggling with the old ladies. “You too doll, you too.” Little did you know, but you walked off right with his heart. The once stone cold piece of meat, now fluttering and happily beating beneath your gaze and care. And for the last time that day another flood of curse words plagued his mind.

***

His hands squeeze your own and he takes a deep breath, blue eyes meeting your own. The bright bracelet proudly on display for anyone to see.

“Doll, there were many times I was lost and you found me. There were days which were heavy, and you picked me up and lightened my heart. Through it all, you were always there for me.”

His voice wavers a little and you can’t deny the water pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“And I know that will never change. I promise to love you as you are and to respect our differences while still supporting and encouraging you. Whatever the future holds, know that I will stand by you and love you. Through pain and passion, sorrow and hope. Through death and through life I will love you. Everyday and with whatever we face I promise to love you because I am tied to you.”

You have to drop one of his hands to wipe away your tears as you smile up at him. Then you say your own vows. And finally after the classic I do’s, the officiant says, “You may now kiss your bride.”

The two of you lock eyes before he swoops down and captures your lips within his own. One of his hands wraps around your waist and holds you steady. The crow erupts in shouts and glee for the two of you but neither of you care. He leans back and you both just smile at one another for a while, both holding the widest grins you have ever had in your entire life.

“I love you.” He says.

“I love you too.” You say back.

Later in the night, as the two of you sway, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and head on his chest, the final words in his vow finally make sense. You play with the string bracelet on his wrist.

“Tied to you huh? You were proud of that one, weren’t you?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Was it obvious?”

“Dork.”

He smiles. “But I’m your dork.”

“Oh my god!” You sigh, “James Buchanan Barnes,” landing a poke to his chest to emphasize your point, “you are the most cheesiest, handsomest, loveable dork out there.” You stand on your tiptoes to catch a kiss from him. “And you're all mine.”

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

Yes yes, I know. “Lordy what the heck? Why are you writing for Bucky?” Well this is a birthday gift for my friend who loves Bucky, so yeah.

Disclaimer!!! I will not write for Bucky normally!!! This was purely a gift!!!

But please, if you liked it, consider reblogging or leaving a comment, I love hearing what you all have to say! (And maybe y’all can convince me to write for him more. Idk, I’m not promising anything.)

Love, Lordy :)

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Everything tags: @jedi-jesi @along-the-lines-of-space @madsvano4 @golfmarshal

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist- please fill out the form below or just give me a holler! :)

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#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes #james barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #winter solider x reader #winter soilder #the falcon and the winter soilder

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gwynrielendgame · 3 years ago

Text

Gwynriel angst

I’m backkkkk! It feels good to be writing about my two favorite characters again. Idea from @bookish-isha

Gwyn peaked over the edge of her book to see Azriel watching her from the library doors. Surprisingly, his shadows were no where to be found. She turned her eyes back to the page she was reading without further acknowledgment to the man at the door. They stayed like that for awhile, Azriel staring from the doorway and Gwyn attempting to read, failing, and turning the page anyways. It was a game between them to see who would speak first, and it was not going to be Gwyn. She had put herself out there only to be rejected. If he had something he wanted to say to her, he could speak first. Eventually, a long sigh escaped from the Shadowsinger.

"Gwyn."

She ignored him and continued to pretend to read.

"Gwyn."

She shifted on the couch to cross one leg over the other.

"Gwyn, I know you are not reading."

She sighed heavily before slamming her book closed and setting it in her lap. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

"What do you want, Azriel?" Gwyn finally caved. He watched her through narrowed eyes for a moment causing her to roll her eyes.

"I wanted to apologize."

"For what?" Her question seemed to surprise him. His eyes widened for a millisecond before his normal unreadable face was back in full force. He cleared his throat before crossing the room to sit next to Gwyn on the couch. The space between them suddenly felt suffocating, forcing Gwyn to turn away from him. Luckily, he did not attempt to touch her.

"For hurting your feelings. It was not my intention." He sounded genuine, but he was an excellent liar. Gwyn had to remind herself that she could not blindly trust him like she instinctually wanted to.

"What are your intentions, Az?" She turned to look at him, only to find an adorably confused look on his face. Adorable was not a word she would have used for Az often, but in the moment it was quite apt.

"What do you mean?" His hands laid limp at his sides. Gwyn wanted to hold them, wanted to feel close to him, but figured it might be inappropriate now.

"Are you with Elain?" Azriel avoided eye contact. His shadows still no where to be seen.

"Does it matter?" His response only infuriated her more.

"Of course it does Azriel! Do not sit here and act dense. I am not just making this all up in my head. We have been...well I suppose I don't know what we have been doing. But if you are with someone else, then this," she motioned between the two of them with her hand, "is inappropriate."

A lone shadow slipped out to caress her cheek, but she did not want to be comforted right now. She quickly turned her head away to avoid the touch. The shadow jolted back and once again could not be seen.

"Elain is...complicated. But I do not want to lose your friendship."

"Friendship." Gwyn muttered to herself as she rolled her eyes. Azriel heard her, but said nothing else. Gwyn did not want to be Azriel's friend. "Are you not tired of chasing women who don't want you?" It was harsh and perhaps not true. Gwyn did not know how Elain felt about the situation. Azriel flinched at her words. It was so microscopic, Gwyn thought she might have imagined it. Imagined or not, she still felt bad.

"Sorry." She muttered.

"Gwyn, this would never work." He said in a soft tone. He wasn't trying to be mean, just honest. It still felt like a stab to her heart.

"And you and Elain would?" She sounded as miserable as she felt.

For the first time ever, Azriel's face turned bright red. He refused to meet her eyes. He wasn't telling her something and she was going to discover what it was.

"Why do you think this wouldn't work?" She narrowed her gaze at him as he shifted away from her. She grabbed his hand to keep him from running away. He shook his head as if to say he would not tell her, but she did not accept that.

"Why, Az?" She interlaced her fingers with his and pulled his hand into her lap to force his full attention on her. "Why?"

"I know this sounds bad, trust me," he gave her a sideways glance before looking away again. He couldn't meet her eye. "It's just that I have needs in a relationship and I would never want to push you into something you're not comfortable with and I also would never want to hurt you by seeking for it elsewhere..." he trailed off, taking a peak at her before pulling his hand back into his own lap.

Gwyn was not understanding as she tried to make eye contact with Azriel. Was she missing something? What needs could he...her thoughts trailed off as it finally hit her.

"Are you talking about sex?" She felt the need to clarify before saying anything else. He still refused to look at her, but gave an almost imperceptible nod. It was absurd enough that she started giggling hysterically. Azriel glanced at her curiously, obviously confused by her response.

"Trust me that would not be an issue." When her laughter finally stopped, she felt the need to clarify. Her face was warm with heat and she also found it difficult to look at Azriel.

"What does that mean?" He asked. His shadows were out in full force now. A few of them were touching Gwyn, but she did not mind so much now. She could, begrudgingly, admit that she liked their comfort. He angled his body so that his knees were almost touching her. Now it seemed that all he wanted was eye contact from her while before it seemed he could not even look in her direction. He grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and pulled her to look at him. Once their eyes met, she was locked in place. He kept his hand on her chin as they spoke.

"Gwyn, what do you mean it wouldn't be an issue?"

She cleared her throat awkwardly and squirmed in her seat.

"Do you really have to ask? All of Pyrinthian wants to sleep with you. Why would I be any different?" Her voice was quiet as though she was afraid someone might overhear her. Azriel's expression became difficult to interpret. All she knew was that he was staring at her with such intensity that a dangerous heat was starting to pool low in her stomach.

"Gwyn, I would never assume that you..." he trailed off in a tortured voice that had Gwyn all sorts of confused. "You have not shown interest in sex with anyone so I just assumed..." he trailed off again. Gwyn shrugged.

"I am not interested in sex with just anyone. I am interested in sex with you."

"Oh."

Azriel's hand was still on her chin but their faces had moved closer together since the start of the conversation. There was only about an inch or two between their mouths. Both of their eyes kept flickering down to the others lips. It was quiet for a long time before Gwyn remembered why this was inappropriate. She pulled away and sat back into the couch.

"Doesn't matter though, right? Because of Elain." She sounded bitter, but she could not help herself. Azriel looked torn.

"I am sorry Gwyn. It's just..." he did not seem to have the words to explain whatever his situation with Elain was. Gwyn figured this would be her last chance to convince Azriel, so she better make it count.

She grabbed his face with her hands, and slowly brought his face to hers. She wanted to give him time to pull away if he did not want this. He did not pull away though, instead their lips softly brushed each other's. It was a thrill like any other. Gwyn had kissed a few people recently. None of them really all that noteworthy, except maybe Nesta. But this kiss, this kiss was exactly what kisses were supposed to be like. Gwyn tried to deepen the kiss as she pushed her body closer to his, basically sitting in his lap. He tried to slow the kiss down, but Gwyn did not want slow. She wanted to prove to Azriel that she could handle whatever he wanted from her. She held his face tighter in her hands and slipped her tongue between his lips. The first touch of their tongues was electric. Gwyn moaned, loudly which seemed to illicit a groan from Azriel. She noticed his hands were laying limply at his sides which just wouldn't suffice. She pulled Azriel over her as she laid on the couch and pulled one of his hands to rest on her thigh under her gown. He tried to nestle himself between her thighs, but the gown was too restrictive. Gwyn hiked it up around her waist and then they were lost in the kiss again. Everything about his kisses were all consuming. She never wanted this feeling to stop. It was almost like a glow in her chest. The kiss became more erratic, hungrier from both ends. He squeezed her thigh causing her hips to buck up. She made contact with his hips and moaned as she felt the full extent to his excitement. Even as the kiss intensified, Az did not move his hands or hips to Gwyn's utmost annoyance. She moved one of his hands to her ass and the other to her breast, eliciting a sweet sounding moan from him. She could listen to him moaning all day long. It was better than any symphony she had ever heard before. She lifted her legs to wrap around his hips and pulled them down to meet hers. Finally, he started moving on his own accord. Grinding into her and massaging her chest. Gwyn ran her hands through his hair as they wrestled for control over the kiss. Eventually, Gwyn let him takeover. It was everything she could ever dream of sex being and they weren't even having sex.

"Never stop." Gwyn whispered in his ear. He shuttered against her as he lowered his mouth to her neck. He licked and sucked and bit that spot so perfectly that Gwyn thought she might finish right then and there. His wandering hands felt so good.

"Gwyn." He moaned low in her ear while he pushed himself against her. It would be a lie to say she wasn't intimidated by the size hiding in his pants.

Everything felt so intense that Gwyn had to let her hands wander. Gwyn threw her hands around his shoulders to pull him closer when she accidentally brushed against his wing. He, suddenly, cried out. Gwyn couldn't decipher if it was pleasure or pain and pulled away to check.

"You okay?" Her chest was moving rapidly as she tried to catch her breathe. Azriel's eyes were squeezed shut while he pressed his forehead against her shoulder. His body was no longer pressed to every inch of hers, but instead hovering. She tried to push him closer again. Instead, he quickly disentangled himself from her.

"I need to go." Gwyn thought she might get whiplash from his sudden change of mood, but one glance at his pants had her understanding.

"It's okay, Az." She grabbed his hand and pulled him back on the couch. She hiked her dress up again as she straddled him before setting it back down. He refused to look at her and the hint of a blush colored his cheeks.

"Sorry." He muttered. Gwyn shook her head with a smile.

"Don't be." Gwyn grabbed his face to look at her while sitting on his still semi-erect cock. "You'll have to end things with Elain before I let you go any further anyways."

A look she couldn't decipher crossed his face. It was definitely a look she didn't like either. It slowly started stamping on the warm, glowing emotion she had been feeling. She sighed heavily before pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was short before he pulled away.

"Wings are extremely sensitive." He started to explain.

"It's okay, Az. Really, don't worry about it." She shrugged, but he only shook his head.

"No, I want you to know that if we did have sex, it would not be that short. As long as you avoided the wings." He was so serious about it that a thrill shot through Gwyn. He wanted to have sex with her. Might even be planning to have sex with her.

A mischievous smile crossed her face.

"How does it work exactly? I just touch the right spot and you finish?" She was walking two fingers up his arm when his hand clamped down on her wrist and put it back at her side. A slightly annoyed expression crossed his face.

"I'm not telling you." His bottom lip jutted out in a pout that Gwyn had never seen before. It would be very effective in persuading her to do just about anything.

Gwyn climbed off Azriel and started heading for the exit once she had smoothed down her clothes and hair.

"That's fine. I will just have to figure it out on my own, I suppose." She tossed him one more flirty smile and headed towards the dining room.

She bumped into Cass on the way, who she thought was in windhaven. She felt nervous that perhaps he heard the two of them, but Azriel would have known he was here and stopped anything from progressing.

"Hey Cass." She kept walking, hoping to avoid any conversation.

"Hey Gwyn," a small smirk pulled up the corner of his lips. "Have you seen Az? I need his help." Gwyn stopped and turned back to quickly finish the conversation with Cassian. She barely contained the blush she wanted to give.

"I think he might be in the library? Could also check his room." She shrugged as if she did not just exit the library after sucking the soul out of the Shadowsinger.

"Alrighty." He turned to leave. Gwyn thought she was in the clear until he turned back once more. "I'll let him know he should be more careful with his placement next time." And then he tapped his neck. Right where Gwyn remember Azriel devoting quite a decent amount of time to biting. Gwyn shrieked, slapped her hand over her neck, and ran all the way to her room. She was going to kill the Shadowsinger.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #elain archeron #acotar #acosf

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

Text

In Want of Stitching

I am delighted to present another little fic for the build-a-bear au by @smieska-draws‘ and me! Smieska generously offered to let me post her incredible art above^ with this fic where Hattie is reunited with her favorite doll from her childhood! The doll is worse for wear, but Hattie knows just how to help! Be sure to give Smieska your love, and if you missed it, the previous fic is here. Without further ado, enjoy!

Words: 4,180

Hattie kicked her legs as she perched on the table in the breakroom. One hand was propped back, nestled between Dimitri’s bag and her backpack, and the other held her dwindling milkshake left over from dinner. While she waited for her dad to finish up with the last customer before closing, she watched Dimitri fuss with the supplies on the shelves.

He struggled to pull out one of the drawers and the sharp jostle of the handle caused the whole structure to shift. He froze and Hattie’s eyes widened as they waited to see if the cleaning items up top would tumble. While the bottles wobbled like a spinning toy wavering to a stop, they stilled without any avalanche and Dimitri and Hattie relaxed.

“I’m just going to deal with that in the morning,” Dimitri huffed, turning around. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Hattie gave him a thumbs up as she reached the dredges of her milkshake and the straw gurgled as it sucked air between the last of the frosty cream. While he crossed over to the rack of aprons, her gaze drifted down to the floor. The off-kilter shelf had shifted away from the wall, revealing a large dust bunny.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the mound of grey that seemed to cover something else.

“See ya tomorrow, kid?” Dimitri prompted, snapping his name tag against the magnet on the wall.

“Probably!” She lifted her chin.

“Boss says a daycare center has scheduled a trip to the mall, so we might be busy,” he sighed, reaching for his bag. She scooted out of his way and nodded.

“That could be fun. But also noisy,” she offered, glancing up as she mentally noted to warn Belle, Mu, and Timmy that they needed to avoid the food court for lunch. Maybe hide in the café connected to the bookstore.

“Noisy is right.” Dimitri swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Will Dad have to work on the floor?” She lowered her empty milkshake.

“I imagine so,” he paused on his way to the door. When she placed the cup down and blew a raspberry as she slouched, he prompted, “why?”

“It just means I have to keep Mu and Timmy away. They’re trying to prove he’s magic and can blow things up with his mind.” Scowling, she swung her legs a little too hard and the table creaked underneath her.

“Is that why they asked him to heat up their—”

“Lunch?” She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

Dimitri sucked in air before bursting into laughter.

“They looked so mad when he used the microwave!” he wheezed, gesturing to the other table with the offending appliance. “Mu’s stink eye nearly killed me!”

“It’s dumb,” Hattie grumbled.

Catching her frustration, Dimitri reeled in his laughter and cleared his throat.

“There’s no harm in it,” he tried. “The boss can be a bit eccentric, and it can be fun to pretend, but I’m sure even Mu and Timmy know he’s not actually able to light things on fire or…” he paused, giving her a curious look, “steal souls.”

“They sure act like he does.” She turned away, cupping her chin in her hands.

“Have you told them it bothers you when they fixate on it?” Dimitri asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, and they ignore it because they think he actually does all of those things.” Her glare hardened.

“You could talk to the boss?”

“I don’t want him to know about the rumors.” After a beat, she looked up to meet Dimitri’s blank expression. “What?”

“He knows,” he said dryly. Her jaw dropped and he softened. “Listen, you might want to just talk with him about the whole Snatcher myth if it’s getting under your skin, but it’s not harming anyone. I think it also gets the store more foot traffic from teens, which isn’t usually our intended demographic. So, in a way, it even helps!”

Hattie groaned, flopping onto her backpack and staring at the ceiling.

“Hang in there, kid.” His shoes tapped against the tile as he walked towards the door. “But just talk to him. See you!”

“Night, Dimitri.” She gave a halfhearted wave as he left. Once the door shut, she fixated on the faint buzz of the lights in the breakroom.

Seconds ticked by.

She heaved herself up, bored with staring blankly and too tired to stew in her frustration any longer. After scooting to the edge of the table, she dropped down with her flipflops slapping against the ground. She intended to toss the milkshake cup and pester her dad while he closed the workshop, but her gaze shifted back towards the shelves. The oddly large dust bunny piqued her curiosity once more and she crossed over.

Crouching down, she prodded the clump of hairs and silver dust. A dead fly was caught in the webbing and bits of dirt or crumbs were suspended on the hairs. But when she pressed down, a firm something lay between her and the tile.

Shifting, she pressed her cheek against the wall and peered into the crack between it and the shelf. Behind the dust bunny lay a small doll, crushed and crumpled.

After a precursory check for spiders, she reached back and pinched one of the doll’s puffy sleeves. The dust bunny tickled her finger, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. As soon as the doll was pulled out into the open, she batted the wad of grey from its mitten hand, and the cloud of minuscule debris floated harmlessly to the ground. She gasped when she held the doll out in the light.

Beneath the grey streaks of grime, a missing button eye, the torn right arm, and a left hand hanging by a single thread, was the prince doll that she had loved so dearly when she was younger. Her heart soared, but the doll’s state soon had guilt souring her joy.

It had been ages. The last time she saw the doll, he had been a bit worn, but still intact. She had been near inconsolable when she lost him. Her dad promised to get her a new, better doll, but she loved the prince doll because of all the memories they shared. Despite all her searching and tears back then, her dad urged her to move on as the doll had continued to elude her. And no wonder! All this time, the doll had been in the breakroom rather than home. He must have somehow fallen behind the shelf at the workshop when she had been playing, only to be shoved deeper and deeper into the dark over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frowning at the frayed threads where a button used to be. When she poked the remaining button, it wobbled, threatening to soon snap away as well. She brushed back the yarn hair, covered in dust that caused the chestnut hue to appear murky. The felt crown looked more brown than yellow, and ashen stuffing dripped from the doll’s arm and broken wrist.

But… it was still her favorite doll. Though it had been years, relief surged through her chest.

“I’ll clean you up!” she promised to herself, gently giving the dusty, dilapidated doll a soft hug.

She knew how to sew, at least! And she had the materials at home. She could even surprise her dad! He always reacted positively when she showed him the hats or masks she made.

Scrambling to her feet, she carried the doll over to the table. She grabbed a couple of tissues to wrap him up, both hoping to keep him protected and intact and to prevent the dust from spreading in her backpack. She was just tucking him safely into her bag, nestled between new fabric she got from her millinery lessons earlier and a graphic novel that Timmy recommended, when the door thrust open.

She turned, noting her dad’s slouched posture as he removed his apron, which was common on days he had to both open and close the workshop. Holding his hand over his mouth, he tried to cover a wide yawn, but his sharp fangs still glinted in the light.

“Time to go?” Hattie prompted while zipping up her backpack.

“Finally, yes.” He paused, glancing towards the shelves. “Did Dimitri refill the sewing kits?”

She shrugged in Dimitri-solidarity when her dad turned back around. He accepted it without further prodding and tossed his apron onto a hook.

Hattie slipped on her backpack gently to keep from jostling the doll as her dad pulled out his hair tie and scratched at his scalp. He grabbed his keys and waited for Hattie to shuffle over.

Once he finished locking up and took her hand to lead her through the dark parking lot, she mentally went through the list of supplies she needed to fix up the prince doll. Neither she nor her dad said a word as their footsteps tapped against the still warm gravel. But that was normal for them. Her dad didn’t usually have much to say unless otherwise prompted by people or work, especially when he was tired. So, she continued her quiet pondering all the way home, staring blankly at the streetlights as the radio played family-friendly tunes at a hushed volume.

As soon as they got home, Hattie dashed into her room. She swept her arm across her workbench to clear away the new beret she was making and placed her top hat on the hat display stand her teacher had given her. Since she only had one, it was her favorite top hat that got the place of honor. Then, she dropped her backpack onto the ground and retrieved the prince doll.

He lay on the tissues that were now smeared with grey. Even just folding back the material caused Hattie to swiftly turn away and sneeze, jostling him as he perched on her palm. She’d need to clean the doll, but the open cuts in his arms worried her. After prodding around, she decided it might be better to pluck out the dusty stuffing, since his arms were closed off from his main body anyway. The loose button, too, she thought to remove to ensure easier cleaning.

She got to work, walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom as she ferried supplies. If her dad wondered what she was up to, he didn’t comment as he settled down in the living room to quietly read.

Setting up a doll bath in the sink by lowering the plug, she submerged the doll into the water with iridescent bubbles lining the porcelain. His one arm threatened to come off and his other hand floated at an odd angle. Undaunted, Hattie stuck out her tongue as she scrubbed the dust and cobwebs from his hair. The felt crown popped off at one point, and while she rescued it, the original gilded color seemed beyond saving so she decided to replace it. But she kept the crown nearby so that she could copy the size and shape.

Once the years of neglect were scrubbed away, Hattie drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds from the doll. The chest felt heavy with the water, even more than the lolling head. But hopefully the doll would dry just fine.

While wringing out the water, she tried to squeeze the doll gently, intent on preserving the fragile threads. Finally, she laid him out on a towel and used another to dab up as much water as she could. Wondering if she could borrow her dad’s hairdryer to speed up the process, she hurried into the living room.

“Da-ad,” she called as she padded onto the carpet. “Where’s your hairdryer?”

“Under the sink in my bathroom. Why?” He turned the page of his novel without looking up.

“It’s a surprise.” Arcing around the table, she peeked at the title. She recognized it as Ember’s latest recommendation from her book club. Curious, she slipped over to the armrest where he reclined. She leaned over his shoulder and identified Ember’s annotations that lined the margins in pencil, confirming that she had loved it enough to lend him the book.

“Should I be worried about this surprise?” he asked, unbothered by her hovering.

“Nope!” she chirped cheerfully as she jumped back to face him.

“Carry on, then,” he muttered, his golden eyes flittering back and forth as he read.

The amber light from the lamp behind him skipped across the strands of his hair, painting the coal-colored locks with flickers of iridescent violets. With his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow on the armrest, his gaze momentarily flickered away from the book as he used his pinky finger to turn to the next page.

“Need something else, kiddo?”

Instead of answering right away, she hopped onto the couch and crawled onto his chest. He held still as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the book.

“Is the story good?” she prompted.

“It’s crafted well.”

“But are you enjoying it?” She tilted her head back into his shoulder. He kept his eyes ahead.

“Not really.” He sounded calm as he said it.

“But you don’t hate it?” she clarified.

“No.” He turned the page.

She sighed, not expecting anything different.

Usually, it didn’t matter. But she didn’t want the same reaction if she asked how he felt about the rumors of the Snatcher. She knew Dimitri thought she needed to talk to him about it but…

“What would you do if you had magic powers?” she asked instead.

“What?” That got him to look down. He quirked a brow and she shrugged.

“If I had magic powers, I would make my top hat like a bag of holding. I could carry all my stuff everywhere and be prepared for anything.”

“Oh.” He relaxed and lifted his gaze back to his novel.

“So, what would you do?” she repeated.

“Hm?”

“What would you do with magic?”

He hummed, lifting his head and reaching over to help steady the book as he turned the page. Once he settled back, he shrugged.

“I’d use it to heat up my coffee.”

For a split second, she wondered if he was also privy to Timmy’s and Mu’s speculations.

“That’s boring.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m a boring person,” he provided.

She grumbled and he continued to read. Scooting closer to his arm holding the book, she wedged herself into the crook formed by him and the back of the couch. He shifted slightly, but otherwise let her get comfortable. She curled up so that the side of her head pressed against his chest.

There was a muffled crackling sound, like crinkled paper.

“Hey Dad, do you know about the Snatcher?” She tensed.

“You mean what everyone calls me at work?” He managed a snort. “Or do you mean all that talk of soul-stealing?”

She snapped her head up, baffled.

“Y-you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He met her gaze, though from the way his palm squished his cheek and he leaned back, he seemed far from interested.

“Because it’s not true!” She gestured wildly. “Isn’t that something your dumb books talk about? Unfair deformation of character.”

“I think you mean defamation,” he corrected with a sly grin.

“That too!” she insisted.

“It gets us more customers and makes my job more interesting. So, no. It doesn’t bother me.” He started to tear his gaze away, “But speaking of my dumb books—”

“But you don’t snatch souls or eat them!” She sat up, knocking his book back. He huffed as he lowered his arm. She perched on his stomach. “People are scared of you!”

“There are worst things,” he said in a lackadaisical tone. Since he couldn’t read, he swiveled his head in his chin to look out at the living room. He tapped his sharp nails against his cheek pensively.

“But Dad—”

“Hattie, it doesn’t bother me,” he interrupted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t you have something you were in the middle of? The whole Snatcher thing doesn’t matter. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from pouting.

“But why doesn’t it bother you?” she tried once more after a moment.

“Kid, that’s enough.” He wiggled his arm trapped behind her back to coax her off. “Go run along.” He suddenly sucked in a breath and covered a noisy yawn. The creases under his eyes deepened as the shadows stretched away from the light.

Hattie deflated.

“Fine,” she grumbled, scooting forward.

He grunted when she leapt off his stomach, but his focus returned to reading without another comment.

Hattie retrieved his hairdryer and returned to her bathroom, where the prince doll remained drenched. She turned the setting to no heat and plugged it in. While the drone of the hairdryer filled the bathroom, she zoned out.

All this time, she had been trying to shelter her dad from the rumors but apparently, she was the only one who cared that people thought he could suck souls out with his fangs like some sort of vampire who loved to sunbathe and didn’t mind garlic.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered under the whirling hairdryer. She glared down at the faceless prince doll. His mitten hand fluttered precariously while the gash in his bicep caught air and caused his arm to fluff up like it had stuffing again.

Her features softened as she carefully tilted the dryer back and forth.

She would rather her dad wasn’t upset by the rumors, which is why she waited so long to say anything, but somehow it felt lonelier than ever when she was the only one who cared.

With a slight slouch, she turned the dryer away and then carefully rolled the doll onto his stomach. She finished drying him out and placed him on a fresh towel while she cleaned up. And though she passed her dad as he returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug while she was on her way to the laundry room, he didn’t question her bundle of towels under his hairdryer.

Her step gained an enthusiastic bounce when she was finally ready to fix the doll. She carried him back to her workbench and gingerly set him down. For reference, she carefully pried the old storybook from her shelf and opened to the most crinkled set of pages, worn from love and constant rereads under her covers at night.

“Here it is, Prince!” She presented the first illustration of the kindly character with puffy sleeves greeting bluebirds, bunnies, and deer. She winced at the doll’s blank face. “Whoops. You can’t see. But don’t worry! I’ll fix that!”

She propped the book back against the worktable and used the beret and open sewing kit to pin it open. After she grabbed a handful of stuffing from her reserves in one of the drawers, found a button to match his eye, and sorted through the spools she’d need, she finally sat down.

Now that the doll was clean, his vibrant crimson coat and purple boots looked just like the illustration. But the blush on his cheeks had faded and one of the stitches meant to look like laces on his boots had frayed. With steady hands familiar with detail work from all her hat making, she looped thread through a sharp needle and got to work.

Fixing the boot and resewing the buttons was a bit tricky, but once the prince had his eyes again, his blank features regained the warmth she remembered. She stuck her tongue out as she restuffed his arms. At first, she wondered if she could add a little muscle definition but no matter how she finagled the lumps, she couldn’t get them to look right.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with noodles for arms,” she lamented dramatically, tugging out the extra fluff.

His large button eyes stared at the ceiling.

The final challenge was stitching his hand back on, and only because the mitten hand was so tiny. She struggled to keep it in place as she threaded the needle through his wrist. After having to backtrack and redo the area a couple times, she eventually got the hand snuggly back into place. The stitches lined his wrist, mostly concealed by the edges of his sleeve.

Then, she only needed to close the tear in his bicep and was able to hide the work under the gold band of his puffy shoulder. Once she placed the scissors down after snipping the final thread, she leaned back with an exhale. As she stretched out her back, she appraised her work.

“How do you feel?” she asked, cupping the prince doll and giving his arm and wrist a few squeezes. When she tapped his button eyes to ensure they remained firmly in place, she glanced up at the illustration to compare. She jolted.

“Your crown!” She whirled around, looking for the dull accessory that had popped off during the cleaning. Her head snapped down and she heaved a sigh of relief when she noticed it had fallen onto her carpet.

She grabbed the felt crown and procured a piece of scrap cloth leftover from the bright yellow beret she intended to give to her dad when it was finished. Snipping the dull crown to flatten it out, she traced its pattern on the scrap fabric. After she cut it out, she glued the edges together, careful to keep it seamless as she held the ends with tweezers.

“Perfect!” She held the new crown next to the prince’s head. She found a lump near the base of the yarn hair where the other crown had been glued previously and glued on the new crown its place. Once the glue had dried and the crown remained fastened to his head, Hattie beamed at her work.

“You look perfect!” She leapt to her feet, hugging the doll to her chest. “Let’s show you to Dad!” She darted over to the living room, shouts of excitement welling from her pride, but she skidded to a stop when she found him fast asleep on the couch.

She heaved out a sigh that dissolved into a blown raspberry.

Oh well.

Since even the book flopped open on his chest visibly quivered from his shivering, she crossed over to the wicker basket filled with throws and blankets and grabbed his favorite from the top. She dragged it over him with one hand, but when she reached the book with pages folding at odd angles, she looked from the blanket pinched in one hand and the prince doll cradled in the other.

“Watch him for me for a second,” she whispered to the prince, dropping the blanket and trading him for the book.

Her dad flinched in his sleep at the sudden shift, but she was too busy locating his bookmark on the coffee table to notice. After guessing where he left off, she placed the closed book next to his mug, which still had a puddle of coffee. She turned back around to find her dad twitching.

“Dad?” She reached out but recoiled at how much heat he radiated.

While his eyes remained squeezed shut, his chest jerked under the limp doll. Panicked panting gripped his restless slumber but before Hattie could try to wake him, he turned to his side, flinging the doll away as he twisted. Hattie bent to catch the prince as her dad’s breathing slowly returned to a calmer pace.

She placed the doll back on the table, fretting as she watched her dad’s tight brows relax. His long, spiky black hair tumbled over his sweaty features, but once his exhales fluttered out like a flickering ember, he began shivering again. Hattie crinkled her nose, holding the back of her hand to his forehead covered by hair and then to his clawed fingers.

Almost like ice.

Unsure whether she wanted to wake him after that, she tugged the blanket the rest of the way and watched him for a few seconds longer. He usually felt colder at night, often kindling the image of a campfire dwindling as those around it slept, but his sudden spike in temperature concerned her.

Was he getting sick?

A few more moments passed, and he remained steady. Hattie gnawed on her lip but decided not to worry. If she woke him up when nothing was wrong, he’d just get grumpy. She’d make sure to check on him later, though.

When grabbing the prince doll, she found it trembled in her palm. She tried to meter her own breathing to soothe herself, thinking her dad’s temperature spike had left her more shaken than she realized. She calmed enough to stop shivering after nestling the doll into the plush pile next to her pillow. But as she walked away to get ready for bed, she did not realize that the prince doll continued to tremble on his own.

Slowly, and like a heartbeat that just remembered its pulse.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #build-a-bear au #my writing #friend art #smieska-draws #smieska #*Jessie's song from toy story 2 plays in the distance*#'so the years went by~ i stayed the same~'#'i was left alone...'#i love this au for all the accidental toy story refs we can squeeze in #but also when somebody loved me is just a prince song... look deep into your heart... you know its true #ANYWAY I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH GO GIVE SMIESKA ALL THE LOVE #THIS IS IT!!! THIS IS THE PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME SO MUCH I HAD TO WRITE THE MOONJUMPER BIT ;O;#LITERALLY HAD IT OPEN ON ONE SIDE OF THE SCREEN WITH THE WORD DOCUMENT ON THE OTHER #DOLL PRINCE IS JUST SO CUTE!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL ROUNDED TOESES #LOOK AT THAT DETAIL ON THE SLEEVES AND THAT EMBROIDERED HEART #HIS LIL BUTTON EYES AND HIS YARN HAIR!!!!!#THE COWLICK STICKING OUT OF THE CROWN!!!!! ITS INCREDIBLE AND DARLING AND I LOVE HIM #HIS MITTEN HANDS!!!!!!!!#I WANNA GENTLY HOLD HIM #okay i'll stop crying now but seriously GO SHOWER SMIESKA WITH LOVE AND ADORATION AND ALL THE FELT HEARTS

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doublebabyboy · 4 years ago

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[2:01 AM] "you really never swear?" you ask in utter disbelief, hardly being able to have a conversation without sprinkling in a fuck or two in there. you blurt out your next thoughts without thinking- "So what do you say during sex then?"

jacob does a double-take, eyes slowly widening as he subtly - or, attempting to be sublte - shifts in his seat. "i um. i dunno, really, it's not something i really think much about in the moment - it's... embarrassing... why is that the first thing you thought of anyway, eh?"

"cause... i know i can't help but swear a lot when i feel good, it replaces like, my entire vocabulary, so i can hardly imagine not..." heat creeps up your neck at his teasing, but he's not immune to the sudden tension between you two either, ears going red at the unholy thoughts dancing through his head.

jacob bites down on his lip, hard, but he doesn't look away, meeting your gaze head-on. "i guess... if you wanna know that badly, you'll just have to find out."

you stiffen in place, eyes bulging out of your head. "w-wait, serious? you're not just pulling my leg?"

"you know me better than that, would i really make fun of you like that?"

if it were anyone else in the world, you answer might just be a yeah, maybe! but he's right - you know jacob, and he wouldn't do anything to play with your feelings like that.

spurred on by his invitation, you boldly climb into his lap, hands smoothing over the expanse of his chest. "you sure about this? like- i don't wanna make this weird-"

"-i've been thinking about this for a long time, actually," he confesses in a small voice, sweet like honey but deadly to your sanity. "so yes, i'm sure - if you want me, you can take me."

jacob was nothing if not always honest, and you loved that about him; expressing it by capturing his lips in a tender, yet hungry kiss, sighing against his mouth and relishing the shivers that went through his body.

you suck on his tongue and he moans - such a pleasing melody, and you're suddenly hooked on it. wanting to hear it again, you grind down against him, lips leaving his only to graze your teeth along his neck, and he lets out the most beautiful sound;

"a-ah, yes, please... ___...."

now you get the idea of the things that leave his lips when he's caught up in it - and now, you're determined to hear more.

"jacob..."

"yeah?"

"say my name like that again."

#might change the format of how i write these now but eh #jacob smut #tbz jacob smut #the boyz smut #jacob bae smut

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hivequest · 3 years ago

Text

Taking a Risk » Mallek Adalov/Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, stressed out reader, chillboy Mallek. TYping quirk only used when texting cause I could not be bothered lmao Originally posted on AO3

A/N: One of my favorite things that I’ve written, ever. I love Mallek and he’s for sure one of my favorite Friendsim characters. When I wrote this I was really feeling those Quarantine Woes

You didn't know what you were doing here. You felt out of place in the worst possible ways. It was a weird, squidgy feeling like stepping on wet grass. But not like the fun kind where you were running around in a sprinkler on a hot-as-balls summer day. No, this was the bad kind of wet grass that you stepped on without knowing it was wet. Why weren't you wearing shoes?

This analogy is stupid. The point is, you're feeling bummed out.

And what better way to not have to deal with that than hang out with someone you knew wouldn't push you into talking about all the ways crashing on this planet sucked! The point is, you're on your way to see Mallek. Mallek is absolutely the kind of friend who can tell when you just need to sit down and veg out. You had been so caught up in everyone else's bullshit that you weren't looking after your own damn self. So now you were doing that.

All it took was a quick text, asking Mallek if he had any company. He texted back only a moment later with a no, obviously not. You asked him if he wanted any. Not really. You ask him if you can come over anyway. Obviously.

You smiled at the palmhusk in your, well, palm. You could already feel the chill vibes of your hacker friend. Friend? Was that the right word for it? You didn't know anymore. When you first met there were definitely some sparks there. You could still feel them now and it made weird butterflies flutter around in your stomach. When you slapped his phone out of his hand and he sent you ass over applecart into the slimy depths of sewer water and he saved you, tits out and all.

You shook off the weird wistful feeling of maybe possibly crossing the friendship barrier and told him you'd walk to his hive. You'd been moping in some bookhive, not your usual hang-out spot with Tagora or Tyzias. This was some upper caste bookhive with purple bloods and some indigos and definitely not where you were welcome if the looks you were getting were any indication. They ranged from snooty to downright murderous. Yeesh.

Your phone -palmhusk, stupid troll names- beeped again. You got another text from him and those cheery fucking butterflies were back. God, you had it bad.

yeah were not doing that lmao;

im not going to let my robobuddy walk out in the sun

do you even know what time of day it =

just stay put ive already got your location ill pick you up;

And like a good little friendsimp. You park your ass on a chair and wait. You hadn't released your moping had taken up most of the night. But with the quick look around, yeah, no, this place was nearly empty by now. Just some older bluebloods trying to cram before their Ordeals and get shipped off-planet. Again: Yeesh.

You kept your ears open for the telltale sound of Mallek's limo. It was a sound you were getting used to these days. He always seemed ready to drop whatever coding shit he was working on to come to see you. You tried not to think too hard on what that might mean. No need to get your hopes up now. It's probably just your bad mood making you imagine some context where there's nothing. Yeah.

Damn, that shit hurted.

Just as you were about to add that to the reasons you were considering just screaming your lungs out who cares whose listening? you heard the wonderfully familiar sound of an approaching elongated scuttlebuggy. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to who the ride was for the quiet of the bookhive was very abruptly disturbed by a series of rhythmic beeps.

Holy shit was that the Tetris theme?

You shoved your palmhusk into your hoodie pocket and yanked the hood over your head. Even if the sun was only out a little bit you didn't want it anywhere near your freshly healed skin. You had no kind cowgirl to nurse you back to health right now if you got your asscheeks baked by the flaming death orb. You peeked your head out and even with the blinding light of Alternia's suns you could Mallek had opened the door and was waiting for you.

Aw. No, shit. You're in a bad mood don't get all heart eyes at him. Don't make it weird.

You took a few steps back into the bookhive, ready to make a run for it. You turn to a sitting indigoblood, who is just staring at you disdainfully for keeping the door open. You give her a two-fingered salute. Godspeed young cosmonaut. She gives you a one-fingered salute. Close the door you insufferable bulgebiter. Fair.

Taking a running start, you book it out into the heat of the Alternian sun and dive for the open car door. It's then that you realize he's halfway parked on the sidewalk to lessen the amount of time you'd have to spend in the sun. Aw. That also means that you came barreling like a cannonball at something that was like two feet out of the door. FUck.

Your face meets carpet and you can already feel the rugburn starting to set in. You hear a startled wheezy laugh from above you, a sound you know better than anyone else on this planet. You smile. It's not like you had any dignity to begin with.

You say hello to him as you peel yourself off of the floor of his car.

"Hey, there robobuddy. You stuck the landing this time," He smiles down at you as he reaches over you to shut the door, closing the space out from natural light and leaving you both lit by his colorful LEDs. You shrug and tell him you've been getting a lot of practice landing on your face these days. The look he gives you is still smiling but there's some level of disbelief at the dumbassery that is your whole existence.

"I know you can get yourself into it. Nothing too bad this time, though, right? No drones or broken bones?" He sounds concerned which is nice but he doesn't drown you with his concern. He leans back on the bench of his limo, keeping an eye on you as the vehicle begins to move on its own. You've been staying out of big messes but the little messes are starting to mess with you. He makes a sound of understanding the sounds as it comes from deep in his chest. Whoa. "Believe me, I've been there. Glad you're not cracking under it though."

He smiles and you can see his little fang and you can feel your heart melt a little. And also you're getting a bit teary-eyed and now Mallek looks alarmed. Shit. You try to quickly explain that you're fine, just, alien allergies am I right? He must be using some new air freshener to mask the musty smell of his limo. Since doesn't use it enough. Ha ha?

He isn't buying it.

With a rare show of cerulean prowess, he lifts you up off of the shitty car rug and sets you on the seat beside him. He feels uncomfortable and you can tell. Ah, goddammit you made it weird. You didn't mean to. Fuck. Fuck now you're feeling even worse. You thought you were starting to balance out. You're with Mallek now, shouldn't everything start to quiet down like it always does? Fuck. He doesn't say anything at first, just leans back against the seat and stretches his arms across it, letting you lean on him if you choose to.

...You choose to.

Your head finds itself somewhere between his shoulder and his collarbone, and you just. Shove your face there. Then scream.

To his credit, Mallek doesn't even flinch. He doesn't wince or shy away from you as you let out every bit of anger, sadness, and frustration out against his sweater. He just sits quietly, staring straight at the blacked-out windshield. You get the feeling he's needed to do this more than once.

Screw this planet. Screw everything about it that makes all of your friends suffer. Why can't you just get them away from all this bullshit?! Why do you have to deal with everyone's bullshit! You love them, you do but holy fuck they're looking to you like you can undo all the damage this place has done to them when you've got literally no god damn idea what's happening at any point ever!

And then, just like that, it fades into the background. Your throat hurts. Your head hurts and you think you might be crying. But it feels lighter. Better now that you've gotten some of that aggression out. You aren't like the trolls on Alternia. You can't kill people when you experience an Emotion™. But that doesn't mean you don't get pent up with rage.

Mallek realizes that now. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and his left hand slowly moves down from the back of the seat the rest against your back. His thumb brushes against your back, the claw drawing little patterns against the fabric of your sweater. His sweater. He tries not to think his sign your chest. This isn't the time.

"Feeling any better?" He asks and you don't know how to answer. You kinda don't want to. But you nod anyways, and you feel some tension leave his body. You knew he was worried about you. You apologize for making him witness your meltdown but he just makes another deep-chested hum. "Nothing to apologize for. I got the feeling you weren't feeling great. I could tell from the texts, you didn't use nearly enough ugly emojis."

You scoff and smack a hand against his chest and once again you hear that wonderful laugh from him. Hey! Your purrbeast emojis are adorable, thank you very much! And you'll not hear another word of it or else you'll send him pictures of rocks and rocks exclusively. No more memes.

"Jokes on you I'm into that shit." You laugh and thump your head against his collarbone. You thank him for being with you when were needed it. And picking you up to make sure you didn't deal with it alone. You don't want to make it weird but...yeah.

He doesn't respond this time, just letting you both enjoy the silence and the comforting sound of the engine. You should almost be at Mallek's apartment by now. It's as you're settling in for the last bit of the drive that you notice that the limo isn't moving. And hasn't been for a while. Your head pops up in confusion and the little GPS display on the back of one of the seats says... yep.

You're already at Mallek's.

But then why is the engine still on? That can't be good for the environment. Do these things even run on gas or is it bugs? Bug gas? Gross.

You notice then that the rumbling is coming from behind you. Like. From where Mallek is sitting. He doesn't look away when you turn to him, just kind of tilting his head to the side with a little bit of a cerulean hue to his cheeks. Oh. Oh, the sound is coming from him. He's purring. That's.

That's adorable.

You feel yourself soften even more when he lifts his arms, silently offering a hug if you want it. Is this platonic? Is this more? You've never had too much trouble identifying what people wanted from you. (Debatable.) If was overtly flushed you could shut it down or divert it to something very much friends only. (Like your every exchange with Zebruh.) But did you even want to do that to your hackerman? You could feel yourself screaming, no, absolutely not. But at the same time, you didn't want things to change. You didn't want to make his issues any worse than they already were. He didn't have too much longer on the planet and you knew it would tear him apart.

But then he turned those blue eyes to you. He looked just as unsure as you were but he was willing to take the risk. He shoved himself so far out of his comfort zone for you and was asking you to be selfish. To want something for yourself and do something for yourself. Not put him or anyone else's wants first. Just your own. And so you did.

You crawled up into his lap, pressed yourself as close to him as you could and clung to him. His arms didn't hesitate to wrap around you and you could feel a shuddering breath from above you.

"We don't have to put a label on this... not yet. Or ever. Either way is chill with me. I just... yeah." He gave up with a little shrug of his shoulders but you knew what he meant. Unless you could find a way to fight fate he was going to go off-world. He was going to leave you and you doubted you'd be able to go with him. You'd probably get gored by a drone for even trying.

But even if it was just for now, just for a moment, you were going to take it. You were going to let yourself have something, have someone who would care for you no matter how long or short your time was. You'd take it. You had stomached some of the most horrible things on this planet but Mallek had always been a constant. And you got the feeling he thought the same way about you.

So, you'd take it. Whatever comes next, you'd take it. You listened to the sound of his purring, in no hurry to move to get inside the apartment. Mallek felt the same.

You exhaled.

You would be okay.

#homestuck #hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #mallek adalov #friendsim #homestuck imagines #hiveswap imagines #reader insert

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