#don't take me too seriously it's late at night here

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Want to Spoil You

Warnings: /

A/N: They realize you're not well-off or are even struggling financially and that makes them want to take care of you even more. Per popular request <3.

MASTERLIST

Jin

Jin was already lying in bed when you got out of the bathroom. You grabbed your pyjamas from your bag as he watched you change.

"Oh no ..." you mumbled when you saw that the seams in your side tore and left a gap in your top. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" you asked as you turned to your boyfriend but you already knew the answer. You were beginning to suspect too that Jin even preferred it if you wore his clothes.

"Do you need new pyjamas?"

"No, I'll just sew this up and they'll be like new again," you told as you grabbed Jin's t-shirt from one of the dressers.

"Just get a new pair," said Jin as he sat leaning against his pillow.

"I can already barely get through the month, I can't just buy new clothes whenever there's a tear in them," you laughed as you pulled on Jin's white t-shirt. You climbed into the bed but your smile faded when you saw Jin frowning.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently and scooted closer to him.

"You barely get through the month?" asked Jin seriously. Your mouth parted and your face went blank. Your cheeks turned pink as you thought about how much less you earned compared to Jin. You had made your peace with it already when you two began dating but the difference between your incomes and savings never crossed Jin's mind.

"It's not that bad," you smiled and tried to reassure your boyfriend. "I have a beginner's salary, it's normal."

"It's not normal if you're struggling," said Jin sternly as he sat up straight and his hand cupped your cheek. "Let me take care of you." He frowned even worse.

"You don't have to take care of me, Jin, I'm fine, really," you insisted although the past few months have been really tight for you financially. Your rent took most of the money whilst you were staying at Jin's place the majority of the nights. Then there was the food and the bills, the everyday things and the public transport. Your phone was so battered that the screen had began to flicker a couple of weeks ago.

A look so determined filled Jin's eyes that it began to worry you a little.

"Please don't think about it anymore, Jinnie," you begged as you took his cheeks and kissed him. He struggled to respond at first, his mind in a storm, but he couldn't resist your soft lips.

The next day when you woke up, you reached for the nightstand blindly to check the time on your phone but you couldn't find it. You rose your head and frowned when your phone was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you seen my phone?" you mumbled sleepily when you came into the living area, finding Jin already dressed in another one of his perfect outfits. It must have been late in the morning judging by the daylight if not close to noon. Jin liked to sleep in as well but not that day. He had been up since early morning.

"Here you go, princess," said Jin as he handed you a phone.

"This isn't my phone?" you asked confused and tried to give it back to Jin. It seemed brand new so you figured he changed his.

"It's your phone," insisted Jin, his eyes still filled with the same unbending look as the night before. You frowned and tapped the screen. The background was the same as on your phone, the contacts and the apps, everything was the same but the machine itself.

You looked up and finally noticed the dozens of bags lying around on the sofa and the coffee table.

"What's all this?" you breathed, your frown only deepening.

"You bought this for yourself, princess," said Jin as he took your free hand and placed a black card in your palm.

"N-No, I didn't," you backed away but tried to give the card back to Jin at the same time. He didn't even look at your hand.

"Jin, please," you begged when you realized what he was doing. "I don't need any of this—"

"Y/N," warned Jin when he turned to you. "Not another word." His hands caressed your neck gently before they moved up to your jaw and made you look up at him. He leaned in slowly and kissed you, silencing any protests that might want to come out of your mouth.

"I'll know if you won't use the card, Y/N," he cautioned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine, but you only wanted another kiss. Jin backed away when you searched for his plush lips again. You opened your eyes, seeing the stern look on Jin's handsome face.

"Just let me take care of you, princess," he spoke quietly, his chest vibrating with the deepness of his voice. You nodded weakly, folding at the prospect of Jin's affection. True to your presumptions, he rewarded you with another tender kiss.

Namjoon

You found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, checking something on his laptop when you took a seat beside him.

"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

"No, it's just some stupid emails," said Namjoon absently, his eyes scanning through the unnecessarily long blocks of text. "What is it, baby?"

"I was just ... I was wondering if ..." You cleared your throat as you squeezed your hands nervously. "If you could maybe lend me some money," you asked with difficulty. Your cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment when Namjoon tore his gaze from his laptop and looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing into a heavy frown.

"I'd pay you back everything," you said quickly. "It's just for rent—"

"What do you mean you'd pay me back?" asked Namjoon sternly, a tempest of thoughts behind his dark irises.

"I'll get my paycheck next week and I'll pay you back every cent, I promise," you explained although the demanding look on his features gave you little hope. His pensive eyes studied your face wordlessly. "It's okay if you don't want to, I'll ask my mom—"

"For rent?" Namjoon cut you off. His frown only grew deeper as he struggled to understand what you were asking.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have asked; I know it's weird," you said quickly and took Namjoon's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You tried to get up but he caught your wrist and pulled you back down.

"How much do you make?" demanded Namjoon. His voice was gentle but no less inquisitive. Your face went blank as more heat rose to your face. You didn't even make a hundredth of what Namjoon was bringing in in your first job as a beginner with no position.

"You know I don't make as much as you do," you swallowed. Even though your answer gave little information, Namjoon realized for the first time since you began dating that you might be financially unstable. He knew what you did and you liked your job but since money was never an issue for him, he never considered it might be an issue for you.

"I'll take care of it," nodded Namjoon and smoothed his thumb gently across your cheek before he got up.

"Take care of what?" you asked wide-eyed as you stared up at him. "Namjoon, I just need—"

"I'll take care of it," repeated Namjoon and gave your forehead a kiss as he buttoned his suit jacket. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and made for the door.

"Namjoon," you called again but he was adamant and gone.

A few hours later, you were looking through the fridge to think of some ideas for dinner when Namjoon came back. He set down a brown folder on the kitchen isle with a credit card on top of it before he pulled off his jacket and came to you for a kiss. You closed the fridge blindly as you responded to his lips but your mind was on the folder.

"What's this?" you asked as you removed the card from the brown paper and opened the file. It was a title deed with your name on it as part of a property transfer. The apartment in question was your rental paid in full and written in your name. Your eyebrows gathered into a frown as your mouth parted and your stomach gave a nervous squeeze.

"I told you I'd take care of it," said Namjoon easily and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. You stared at him, your frown as deep as ever.

"You bought my apartment?" you asked astounded.

"No, you bought your apartment," said Namjoon as he drank the cold juice from a crystal glass. His fingers sat down on top of the dark credit card and he pushed it towards you. The letters of your name were engraved on the luxurious-painted plastic.

"Are you insane?" you blurted, your chest riddled with guilt. You were used to working hard for everything you had and hated accepting things from others. Even birthday gifts if too extravagant made you uncomfortable.

"I can't accept this, I won't accept this, Namjoon," you insisted although you could see it on his face that you were shouting in deaf ears. Your boyfriend was one of the most intransigent people in the world and when he decided on something there was no changing his mind.

"It's yours," said Namjoon nonchalantly, "Whether you like it or not."

Your eyes flinched in the direction of the crackling fireplace as you held the folder in your hands. Namjoon followed your gaze and smiled with amusement.

"I have a digital copy, baby," said Namjoon as he came closer to you. "The apartment is yours and so is the card." His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to him, his forehead almost leaning against yours whilst you stared up at him.

"I'll know if you won't spend anything," he purred a warning and came even closer. "And I won't like it if you don't spend anything." His deep voice gave you goosebumps as your eyes flicked down to his plush lips.

"I want to spoil you, baby," said Namjoon against your soft mouth. "You should let me." He closed the space between your lips and kissed you deeply enough for the folder to fall from your hands as he pulled your waist to his hips.

Yoongi

"Fuck ..." you mumbled under your breath as you scrolled through the bills on your email, your back against the foot of the sofa and your laptop on the coffee table. Your stomach was in a tight knot. You tried to calculate the priorities but even that surpassed the amount that was left on your bank account from your last paycheck.

"What is it?" asked Yoongi as he sat on the sofa behind you, his legs on each side of your frame when he kissed the top of your head.

"Nothing," you whispered and closed your laptop quickly. You looked up and gratefully responded to Yoongi kissing your lips. His hand was caressing your neck gently, the cold rings on his long fingers giving you goosebumps as they made contact with your warm skin.

"You sure?" asked Yoongi when he pulled away a little. You set your eyes forward again and bit your lip as you nodded. Yoongi's hand glided around your neck and pushed back your soft hair as he began to run his fingers through it. You leaned your head against the sofa and closed your eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Yoongi. His voice was deep and quiet but no less authoritative.

"Nothing's wrong," you insisted as you shook your head a little. Yoongi frowned more and more with each second. You didn't even have to open your eyes to see his expression. You knew that he knew that you were hiding something.

"You don't trust me anymore, jagi?" asked Yoongi. His hand came down to your cheek and caressed you gently. Your eyes opened at those words and you turned around to look at him.

"Of course I trust you," you spoke feverishly.

"Why won't you talk to me then?" said Yoongi as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Because it's nothing," you lied. "And you'll worry and think that you have to fix it."

"Fix what?" pressed Yoongi. You groaned desperately and buried your face into the sofa. Yoongi seized the opportunity and opened your laptop behind your back, his eyes scanning over the bills.

"No, wait—" you tried to close the laptop when you noticed what he was doing but it was already too late. He saw everything.

"Yoongi, don't do anything," you begged as you got up to your knees and cupped his face. The look in his eyes was as hard and unmoving as a mountain and your words fell on deaf ears. He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and slid out a slick black credit card.

"Here you go, kitten, happy anniversary," said Yoongi as he offered you the card. You stood up with a frown.

"Our anniversary won't be for three months," you protested although that was far from Yoongi's point or yours for that matter. He stood up as well, took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his card.

"You can give me that card all you want but I won't spend a dime," you insisted. Yoongi turned to you slowly and took a good look at you. His eyes made your stomach dance with butterflies and fireworks.

"Fine," said Yoongi as he came closer to you. "Then I'll make you." His voice send shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He took your hand and you had no choice but to follow him. He drove you half-way across town until you arrived to a large glass building.

"Why are we here?" you questioned when Yoongi opened the car door for you. "Please, let's just go home." You took your boyfriend's hand but he wasn't paying your tugs no mind.

"Yoongi," you gasped under your breath and squeezed his hand tightly when he led you inside the Cartier boutique. It was too late to leave without causing a scene in front of the elegant saleswomen.

"Mr Min," said the older one of the two with her hair in a neat bun. "We're so happy to see you're back. It's been too long," smiled the other lady and took in the sight of you, giving you a warm smile as well.

"We have a very special thing for you," said the older lady and disappeared in the back.

"Yoongi," you pleaded in a whisper as you tugged on his hand a little but his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. Yoongi looked down into your eyes, defeating you in an instance.

"This is one of our rarest and most sought after items, Mr Min," purred the older saleslady. She placed a beautiful red box on the glass counter before you and opened it with care. "This is out Panthere Maillon Etrier necklace in 18 carat white gold. It's distinguished for its geometric shape with the center of the necklace set with brilliant cut diamonds around 2,15 carats."

Your lips parted as your face went blank in the face of the exquisite piece of jewellery. You had never even stood in a jewellery shop, much less in Cartier itself. Yoongi observed your reaction for a while before he nodded to the saleslady.

"Very good," she smiled and motioned to her assistant to take care of the payment.

You realized that the purchase was agreed to and looked up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Please," said the younger saleslady when she gestured elegantly at the payment terminal. Your gaze shifted between her, the astronomical number on the screen and Yoongi.

"Your card, kitten," said Yoongi as he stared down at you. You were still clutching to the black piece of plastic in your clammy hand. You swallowed before you inched the card closer to the terminal until it made a sound of approval.

"See? It's not that hard," purred Yoongi in your ear as his arm wrapped around your waist. You turned to him, your lips only inches apart. "You can use it for other things now too, kitten, and I'll know if you won't," he spoke quietly, his hot breath teasing your mouth as he slowly closed the space between you and kissed you greedily.

Hoseok

Although you have been dating Hoseok for a while now, you were never very comfortable talking about money with him. You grew up poor and even though you were just starting your first job now, you still struggled quite a lot. You didn't mind that Hoseok made a lot of money, you accepted that right in the beginning of your relationship, but you never wanted to talk about your situation because of that. Yet when you had a glass of wine too much with your dinner last week, you told Hoseok about your upbringing and how the notion of always having to save money was still rooted deep inside of you.

You shouldn't have said anything, though, because once Hoseok found out about it, he began to shower you with gifts every single day. You didn't mind him paying for meals when you went out but the gifts he was giving you now weren't anything short of luxurious.

"Hobi, I swear if you get me another thing—" you threatened when you saw the timeless Hermès Kelly on your nightstand. Your stomach twisted into knots just at the idea of how much it must have cost.

When you turned around with your index pointed at Hoseok, he was standing so close to you that the wind was knocked out of you. Your lips parted as Hobi towered over you.

"Or what?" he asked with an amused smile resting on his lips and in his dark eyes. You were at a loss for words. "Or what, kitten?" he asked again, taking another half a step closer to you and closed the space between your bodies.

"You should look what's inside, baby," Hoseok encouraged, enjoying every moment of seeing the puzzled and flushed look on your face.

You looked inside the leather bag hesitantly and found a creamy white jewellery box inside. It was already clutched in your fingers before you let it go and took a step back, your hands hugging your elbows as the corners of your eyebrows pulled downwards.

"I don't want it, you spoke weakly as Hoseok frowned at your reaction.

"You haven't even looked at it," said Hoseok but you shook your head and backed away some more.

"I don't want it - I didn't earn it and I sure as hell don't deserve it," you tried to leave the bedroom but Hoseok caught your wrist.

"Y/N," he called as he cupped your neck just beneath your jaw and made you look up at him but you were avoiding his eyes. "Y/N," Hoseok warned again and you looked at him. His frown softened when he saw the sad look on your face.

"That's the least of what you deserve, baby." He brushed his thumbs along the gentle line of your jaw. "Stop fighting me and let me take care of you." Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his closeness calming down your anxiety immediately. Your arms found their way around his sides as you came closer, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"It's okay, baby, you'll get used to it," Hoseok spoke gently against your hair before he kissed the top of your head, his hands caressing your back.

"Wear it to the opera tonight, baby," he said after a while. "Will you wear it for me, kitten?" Hoseok cupped your cheeks again and made you look up at him. You nodded a little. He smiled and leaned in, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he kissed you tenderly.

When you finally found the courage to come near the bag and the jewellery box again, you were already wearing your evening dress. You opened the delicate velvet box and found a pearl necklace in 18 carat yellow gold. The letters Mikimoto were engraved in the satin interior of the box.

"Do you like it?" smiled Hoseok as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before he pressed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

You nodded weakly as you studied the necklace without a breath in your lungs. "It's beautiful."

Hoseok took the necklace from the box as you scooped up your hair and the cold pearls made contact with your warm skin. Hoseok fastened the clip in the back and took your soft hair from your hands, his fingers letting them fall down your back.

"You're so beautiful, baby," purred Hoseok when his hands returned to your waist and pulled you to him as his lips left tender kisses along your shoulder.

Jimin

When you got back from work, you were surprised to find Jimin already at home. It was barely the afternoon and he sometimes stayed at the office until evening.

"Hey," you greeted softly as you cuddled up next to him on the sofa. You wrapped your arms around his sides and leaned against his chest but he didn't budge. Jimin was pretending to watch the TV and refused to even say hello.

You sat up perplexed as you studied your boyfriend's sullen frown.

"What's wrong?" you breathed, your chest heavy with guilt although you had no idea what you did wrong. You took your boyfriend's hand and squeezed it pleadingly but Jimin gave no reaction.

"Jimin-ah," you tried again, your voice almost cracking. You couldn't stand having him be upset with you, especially when you had no idea what could have made him react this way. Jimin was never upset with you no matter what, which is why his reaction affected you so much.

The desperation in your voice made Jimin break his harsh facade. He turned to you frowning no less.

"Why do you think I gave you that card?" said Jimin bitterly but you were lost. He leaned forward and grabbed the bank statement from the coffee table and showed it to you.

"You promised me that you would spend money on that card, Y/N," said Jimin when you read through the humble list of meals you had paid with Jimin's card, the 30 dollars that you had spent on buying some cute office supplies and the 20 dollars you had left at the bookstore.

"But I did," you insisted, showing Jimin the bank statement that he knew by heart now. He rolled his eyes and glared at you again. You had never seen him behave like this before. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at you. A part of you knew that he wanted you to spend more money but there was nothing you really needed that much. After Jimin found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he pulled the card right from his wallet and gave it to you.

"You promised me, Y/N," said Jimin and got up. Your wide eyes followed him and your lips were parted in shock. He grabbed his car keys and waited for you to get up as well.

"What are you doing?" you asked your boyfriend.

"I'm making you keep your promises to me, sweetheart," said Jimin darkly as he took your hand and led you down to his car.

Jimin drove you to the enormous glass building where he liked to shop. You had been there with him a hundred times before but the prices made your stomach twist into knots.

"Jimin, this isn't necessary—" you tried to reason with him but he only grabbed your hand and led you straight to Tiffany & Co.

"Jimin, please," you begged him as your chest grew heavy with guilt. The salespeople knew him. He already got you a pair of their earrings before but you had only worn them once to your anniversary dinner for fear of losing them.

Jimin picked out a 20 carat diamond necklace for you since he knew you'd refuse to choose any of the items the salespeople displayed especially for him.

Your boyfriend gave you his card and stared at you. He was still angry with you and the sight of it made your heart break.

"Jimin," you pleaded but he didn't budge. The lady at the cash registry waited patiently when the five digit number appeared on the payment terminal in front of you.

"Y/N," Jimin warned when he saw you hesitate. You swallowed and gave in. You pressed Jimin's card against the terminal and felt even worse when it gave a sound of approval.

Jimin took you to Dior next, then Celine, Balenciaga and even Chanel where his card caused more rings of approval from the payment terminal. Your boyfriend's frown, however, began to melt away when he saw you try on couture and get tended to from every direction by the salespeople.

Jimin leaned against the door frame of your dressing room as he watched you put on a beautiful white dress with a black ribbon that screamed Chanel. He glanced over his shoulder before he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Jimin leaned his chin against your shoulder as he watched you in the mirror.

"See? It's not that hard, baby," he purred before he pressed a soft kiss on your exposed neck and you couldn't help but lean back against him.

Taehyung

"What's this?" asked your boyfriend as he opened his bank statement. You looked up with big wide eyes and your heart sank a little. After Taehyung found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he gave you his card and practically threatened you to spend money on it when you refused.

"I-I just ... " you began to stutter. You had bought yourself a new bag for your laptop and for the things you needed whenever you went to study or to work and a perfume that you knew Taehyung loved. Those were the kind of treats you could only afford once in a while on your own but since he encouraged you, you got them for yourself although it made you feel no less guilty.

"You said ... You said I should get a few things," you spoke carefully as you watched Taehyung's frown whilst he scanned the contents of his bank statement before his dark eyes turned to you.

"Why didn't you?" he asked sternly, showing you the slip. Your eyes turned into a different kind of wide when he spoke the opposite of what you imagined. You took the bank statement and saw your two items on there along with a few meals that you paid for with Taehyung's card.

"What do you mean? I got the bag," you gestured towards the beautiful accessory that was sitting at the foot of the sofa. "And I got the perfume - it's Gucci." Even saying the brand name weighed heavy on your tongue with guilt. You had never owned a luxurious brand item in your life before you met Taehyung.

"Yeah, and you got tteokbokki, bubble tea, two coffees and spent 12 dollars at a pizza place," Taehyung listed the rest of the items of places where the card was used.

"Do you want me to pay you back?" you asked unsure but that made Taehyung frown even deeper.

"Come on," he instructed as he took your hand and led you to his car. You watched him as he drove you to the city center and pulled up in front of Cartier.

"Tae—" you protested but he cut you off by getting out of the car. "Tae," you tried again when he grabbed your hand and took you inside the luxurious boutique.

"Mr Kim," the elegant saleswoman greeted the moment she saw your boyfriend and you enter their exclusive shop. "We're so glad to see you return, it's been a while." She smiled a bright smile when she saw you before she brought out a collection of their most exquisite items, timeless pieces inspired by art deco.

You tried to get your boyfriend's attention and get out of there but he would not so much as budge. He chose a sapphire and diamond bracelet for you. When the lady presented a six digit on the computer screen, your face grew hot with fever.

"Tae, don't—" you tried but Taehyung glared at you so intensely that you were at a loss for words. He showed you his card - your card - and pressed it against the payment terminal. Your mouth parted when the machine gave a happy sound of approval and the saleslady thanked the both of you. She tried to hand you the velvet box within a beautiful paper bag but Taehyung accepted it instead.

"You're getting this when you pay for dinner tonight, kitten," said Taehyung to you and only you, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He handed you back his credit card and left a small kiss on your jaw right above your neck, his lips hiding a shadow of a smirk.

Jungkook

"Please don't make me do this," you begged when Jungkook took you to Calvin Klein and made you try on a series of luxurious fragrances. The prices of the items they sold made your cheeks flush red with discomfort. Ever since Jungkook found out that you weren't financially stable, he insisted you spend money on his elite black card. If you failed to meet his expectations, he made you go shopping and this was just one of those instances.

Jungkook's nose brushed against your neck where one of the wonderful perfumes mingled with your skin.

"You smell so good, kitten," murmured Jungkook, his dark voice giving you goosebumps. He pulled away, his face only inched from yours as he watched you with amusement. Your boyfriend leaned in slowly, a few locks of his dark hair brushing against your forehead. You put your arms around his neck and guided him to you but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving you wide-eyed and perplexed.

"Only after you use the card, kitten," said Jungkook and placed the black credit card into your hand.

"But ..." Your gaze flicked between your boyfriend and your palm. "Jungkook," you whined in protest.

"You should have done this on your own, Y/N," said Jungkook smoothly as he stepped closer to you and you backed away until your back hit the perfume counter. His long arms leaned against the wooden surface and trapped you there. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as you stared at you boyfriend but your gaze kept drifting to his lips.

"We could have been somewhere else right now," spoke Jungkook quietly as his eyes gained a dark, glossy look that made your knees go weak.

"O-Okay," you found yourself stuttering.

After you paid for the perfumes you liked, you were eager to leave the luxurious shopping center.

"Not so fast, kitten," said Jungkook as he caught your hand and pulled you inside the Bvlgari boutique.

"Jungkook—" you spoke breathlessly but the salesman already nodded to Jungkook and went to retrieve something from the back.

"Jungkook, please, let's just go," you tried to reason with your boyfriend, but this time, instead of tempting you with his kisses, Jungkook frowned at you. His eyebrows arched sharply as he caressed your cheek.

"Stop fighting me, kitten," he spoke quietly but his chest was vibrating with the deepness of his husky voice. "We made a deal."

Jungkook had made you promise that you would use the card and not just for the things you needed like meals and everyday items.

"Here it is, Mr Jeon," smiled the elegant salesman. He presented a beautiful velvet box on the counter and opened it carefully. A Serpenti Viper Necklace was sitting on the cushion made in its shape. The metal used was white 18 carat gold with so many diamonds it would take you a month to count them.

Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at Jungkook. His frown vanished behind a small smile when his eyes found yours, a playful look in his dark irises.

"Would you like to try it on, Miss?" asked the courteous salesman. You checked with Jungkook and he nodded to the employee. He didn't let the salesman put it on you, though, that was his job. You turned to the mirror whilst the salesman went to assist the person in the back and Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze traced the viper's tail that led down the middle of your chest.

"Do you like it?" asked Jungkook, his hot breath teasing your ear as his eyes found yours in the mirror.

"It's exquisite," you breathed, feeling the weight of the diamonds and gold against your skin. Your hand took one of Jungkook's and intertwined your fingers with his,

"Just like you, kitten," he spoke softly and left a tender kiss on your neck.

[mostotherthings]

小偷 是誰跨過了界線？

This conversation and the subsequent happenings in the episode have made me repeat this episode a few times even without me realising what I was doing.

So, it starts with classical guitar playing. She is playing Francisco Tarrega's Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Memories of the Alhambra), as the teacher starts to talk about the fortress of Alhambra

怎麼了What's the matter?

你不喜歡西班牙You don't like Spain?

還是不喜歡收復失地 Or you don't like regaining lost territories?

Sheng Wang goes for the jugular- is it history you don't like or... you don't like conceding ground to others?

我不喜歡歷史 I don't like History

历史就是一部血腥的侵略史 History is just a series of bloody invasions

Jiang Tian's glasses are still on here. History to him are just filled with bad memories, bad things (his trauma, perhaps?)

是誰打敗了誰 It's all about who defeated the other

劃了什麼界限 what boundary lines were drawn

然後以什麼什麼為國 and calling somewhere a nation

以什麼什麼為界 and somewhere its boundary

and he takes off his glasses here, he has conceded some ground, when he talks about defeat and how meaningless this giving and taking is

怎麼啦？What is it?

我講錯了嗎？Did I say something wrong?

也不是 Not really, 但是 But

正因為有這樣一次的運動和前進 It's because of this continuous movement and progress forward

才推到了一些高牆啊 that pushed down some high walls

Sheng Wang speaks frankly here, which I think is quite a show of his trust for Jiang Tian. From the beginning where he promises to keep his distance from Jiang Tian, Sheng Wang talks about progress, movement, the future, that led to the crumbling of the fortress walls (Jiang Tian's walls... perhaps?)

讓愛 (and) let love

充滿了這個世界 fill up this world

and Sheng Wang has this love, that can fill up another person's world

而且 正因為有了這些看似像界線一樣的東西 and it's because of these things that are like boundaries

才有進入別人的世界 are you able to enter another person's world

了解別人的可能 and understand that other person's possibility

It's like he's saying here - I respect your boundaries, and it's because of them, because of our differences, that makes me interested in you (?)

那你覺得我現在是入侵了你的世界 So do you feel that I am invading your world now?

and Sheng Wang has had half an arm pass the middle point of the frame- he has been sitting, invading Jiang Tian's space for the entire conversation

還是你侵入了我的世界呢？Or is it you who have invaded mine?

And Sheng Wang continues- so am I getting to know you... or are YOU actually getting to know ME?

我就是不喜歡歷史. I just don't like history

Jiang Tian concedes the battle and puts his glasses back on. Sheng Wang returns to his side of the frame.

The teacher continues to talk about Alhambra being a ruin for many years, until the King of Spain started to restore it...

As the episode continues, Sheng Wang keeps getting into people's spaces.

Auntie Jiang an example. Later when he witnesses the lovers at the West Gate- he's all up in other people's business this week, generally being an injured nuisance

With Sheng Wang home, Jiang Tian thinks he can put back the boundary/walls he conceded earlier. He makes up a lie- he's not in the dorm, telling Sheng Wang, he's not where Sheng Wang thinks he is going to be

The day darkens, the lie continues, the walls are coming back up

那我怎麼沒有看到你啊 Then why can't I see you?

When the lights come up, the lie is exposed. There's no more hiding, and Jiang Tian makes a run for it

Now Sheng Wang's closest to the person whose walls he wants to break down (he doesn't quite understand it yet)

He doesn't understand it yet!

But it's the thief, the thief who breaks down both their walls- it's a moment of vulnerability. Everyone else in the dorm room has gone home, and they should have been safe with each other. When the dorm master suggests huddling together for safety, Sheng Wang suggests it immediately. He now thinks of the room as their territory, they should be together to repel the invaders. Jiang Tian thinks about the last time he tried to put up a boundary......

It's the same expression he had the last time he had his walls taken down by Sheng Wang. He just can't win this war. So he lies down......

AND THEN THE MOMENT OF GENIUS IN THIS EPISODE, where Memories of Alhambra start to play again. The wall is in ruins, the fortress has crumbled.

He has to concede this. He inches to face the 'invader'.

It's their wall now. And they rest, safe.

[sacredsorceress]

Meet Cute with Logan Would Include... || Wolverine Headcanons

pairing: logan howlett (wolverine) x mutant!f!reader summary: you're a new teacher at the school and logan is interested in you from your first meeting a/n: i'm admittedly projecting with the fact that reader teaches history but just a little blurb because logan's been on my mind and i need to get work done <33 lmk if you want me to make this into an actual fic!! warnings: none, all fluff

masterlist | inbox | tip jar (ko-fi)

when you first arrive at the school as a teacher (and late blooming mutant) charles introduces you to logan

logan has a typical scowl on his face and glances at you up and down

so you begin to worry that you've worn the wrong outfit or presented yourself poorly and now an infamous wolverine dig is about to be thrown your way

but instead, he takes a puff of his cigar, and looks back at charles

"you have a rule about only recruiting good-looking teachers or something?"

and what an array of relief (and butterflies) do you get from that

"yes, very funny, logan. however, y/n here has a phd. I've brought her on to teach the students"

"yeah? and what's your "gift"?" (mutation)

he has a coy look on his face

"oh logan, that's a bit personal..." you said with faux seriousness. "buy me a drink first."

for the first time, you saw him smile. a chuckle reverberated in his chest.

"fair enough."

after that interaction charles escorted you out of the room but as you went, logan's eyes were trained on you.

intrigued, he took another puff of his cigar and smiled to himself.

on your first night there, once all the children have gone to sleep and all the adults have gone to their own rooms for the night you hear a knock on your door.

and guess who it is?

you hate to admit it but god, does he look so hot and suave standing in your doorway.

logan's hair is in a typical mess and his flannel has a few more buttons undone than it did this morning,

and although he's rough around the edges and not as necessarily openly friendly as the others, he exudes confidence- especially as he leans against your doorframe.

"you said i owed you a drink."

although he takes you to the diviest dive bar in town, you have such a good time.

after a little bit of awkwardness, the two of you found your footing and you end up talking (flirting) for hours

well, in actuality, you do most of the talking but boy does he like listening to you talk and watching your eyes light up while you laugh at some of your own stories

on the way back to the mansion, he opens the car door for you

"thank you."

"don't mention it" (he's blushing a little)

on the ride back he tries to be as smooth as possible, one arm draped over the passenger seat while the other rests on the steering wheel

he keeps taking quick glances at you as you hum along to the song on the radio and even though you just met he's already thinking about how he could get used to this

he walks you back to your room and as much as he wants to make another move (and you do too) he doesn't want to mess up your relationship before its even started

i mean, you're living in the same place?? what happens if you don't like it?? and you end up hating him?? now his suave demeanor has crumbled under the weight of realising this is actually real and not a game

"I'll.. uh... be down the hall if you need me."

"thanks, logan" you smile softly and he thinks its the first time anyone's done that in over a decade and meant it

when he starts walking down the hall, you call out in a whisper

"oh and logan!" you pause. "sweet dreams."

before he can say anything the door of your bedroom shuts

a stupid, silly grin coats his face so big that he rubs his hand across his cheeks in fear anyone would catch the big bad wolverine becoming a softie for the teacher he's got the hots for

although you've just met, you've got him wrapped around your finger and he can barely believe it

shoving his hands in his pocket, logan shakes his head and laughs on the way to his own bedroom

"fuck."

[augustinewrites]

“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes 

“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”

“nothing," you quickly defend.

“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”

“you promise not to judge?”

“not out loud.” 

you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”

shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”

“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring. 

shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”

“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”

“nanami?!”

heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!” 

“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”

“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”

“seriously?”

she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”

that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours. 

“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.

“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”

“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.

“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”

it was great. not that you’d tell her. 

“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.

you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”

“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”

some clears their throat loudly. 

both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”

as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–

“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. 

memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–

you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.

shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.

_____

“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.

“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve. 

“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”

nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?” 

“because i'm hot–”

“please stop talking.”

“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.” 

that makes him pause. “really? what look?”

the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”

“what did you mean by that? what look?”

“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”

nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?

interesting. 

_____

when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.

oh no. this is how the fantasies always start. 

“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”

you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.

soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.

(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.) 

you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.

“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down. 

“hm?”

“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”

you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”

he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”

“you do?”

“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”

[monarchberrysblog]

𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭

18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader

Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.

Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)

Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)

Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.

To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌

It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.

Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.

You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?

"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"

The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.

"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.

Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.

As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.

/

The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.

The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.

The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.

A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.

"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.

You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.

"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.

As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.

The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."

"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.

"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."

You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.

"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.

He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."

Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.

His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.

His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"

Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.

"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.

"I want it…"

"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.

"I want your cock… please."

After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.

Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"

"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"

You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.

"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."

It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"

He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.

"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.

/

The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.

Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"

The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."

It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.

His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.

“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”

“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”

The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.

The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”

With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.

“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…

“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.

“Pizza it is, then.”

[scuderiahalf]

(almost) one year with you — c.sainz

pairing. carlos sainz x strategist!norris!fem!reader

summary. your boyfriend is usually so intelligent. when he makes one of the stupidest decisions of his life to break up with you, his best friend (and your idiot brother) decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.3k, 18+

warnings. breakups = makeup sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, reader is kind of a bitch but carlos is into it

masterlist.

.

"I'm going to kick the door open."

"Please, do not do that," Carlos says from behind you.

"You think I can't?"

Smartly, Carlos chooses not to voice any further opinions.

You kick the door, more out of frustration than an actual attempt to break it open.

"I'm going to murder you when I get out of here, Lando!" you shout against the door, not really caring if your idiot brother has hung around to hear the very real threat.

You may not actually kill him (you're still debating it) but you will definitely hit him. At least five times. Maybe more. And he's not getting any of your late-night stress-baked cookies for several months. Asshole.

You kick the door again, harder. The wood bends near the bottom from the impact, rattling in the doorframe but otherwise unmoving. Your groan turns into a yell of frustration, punctuated by you hitting the still closed door with both hands. You seriously cannot believe Lando would do this.

"Are you finished?"

Carlos sounds almost amused.

If he hadn't been literally thrown into the room by not just Lando but Max and Alex as well, you might think he's in on this whole scheme. Instead, you just glare at him, irritated that he's so calm while you're both being held against your will.

"Is being made to be near me that horrible?" Carlos says.

"Oh, fuck off."

"You are acting as if they will not have to let us out eventually."

"How long is that going to take? Huh? I don't want to be locked in here for hours. It's actually FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

You're shouting at the door again, hoping your dumbass brother and his stupid fucking friends can hear.

They all better be prepared for the consequences. There's no one better at holding a grudge than you.

You never should have trusted Lando when he had insisted you come to Charles Leclerc’s dumb yacht party. He never wants to be seen in public with you much less all but beg you to attend a party with all his friends who are so much cooler than you because he's an F1 driver and all his friends are, too, and you're just a strategist.

(You never thought that being a trackside strategist at Scuderia Ferrari would be preceded by "just" as though it isn't an impressive feat but with a brother like Lando Norris, nothing you do ever really seems to measure up. You're the reason Lando ever got into racing or F1 in the first place. So really, this is your own fault.)

You give up harassing the door (it locks from the inside so there must be something blocking it in the hallway) and start searching the room for another way out. It's a bedroom, and you're choosing to assume that it just happened to be the easiest place to trap you both and not a purposeful nudge to something untoward. Lando isn't that crude. You think.

After this little stunt, you don't think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You start checking all the drawers to see if there's anything useful. You don't actually know what you're looking for. Maybe like a fire axe or a hand saw so you can brute force your way out of here.

"We could talk," Carlos proposes.

"And give Lando what he wants? No, thank you."

"You are so proud. Can we not talk this out?"

"What's there to talk out, Carlos? You dumped me, remember?"

That shuts him up.

You refuse to look at him. Even with your back to him as you search through a completely empty dresser, you can feel the look on his face. Full lips pouting, big brown cow eyes all sad and pitiful. You'd fold like a cheap suit if you saw his pretty eyes right now and you're trying really hard to stay strong and hang onto your anger so you won't give in.

There's nothing in any of the dresser drawers. The nightstands are fruitless, too. The wardrobe houses only empty hangers, and not even the cheap wire ones that could be bent into something useful like a weapon to kill yourself with if things get any more tense in this tiny room.

"I regret it," he says.

You close the wardrobe with a heavy breath.

"I regretted it as soon as I said we should end it."

"Cry me a river, Sainz. Build a bridge. Get over it. You don't get to call me ‘nothing but a distraction’ then tell me you regret it and expect me to forgive you just like that—fuck this. I'm going to swim to shore."

You yank the balcony door open and climb up onto one of the chairs so you can get over the railing.

"Y/N!" Carlos curses in Spanish, scrambles after you and gets an arm around you before you can actually step up onto the railing. "What are you doing?!"

"I just said! I'm going to swim to shore. Let me go!"

Carlos picks you up like a purse dog and carries you back into the room. He stands in front of the balcony door after setting you down, blocking your only escape route.

"You cannot swim to shore. We are miles out of sea!"

"If it gets me out of this room, I'd do it!"

"Can you not just talk to me?"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because I don't want to!"

"What are you afraid is to happen?"

"I don't have to explain myself. Especially not to you."

So, you don't explain yourself. You walk over to the couch and take a seat, arms and legs crossed, looking anywhere but at Carlos.

You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to that first date with Carlos last year. You know what you were signing up for. You knew all the judgement would be on you if/when you decided to go public. You knew Ferrari would have many things to say about your relationship, and they did, when you told them earlier in the season before it could potentially get ugly with a reveal from unsasvory sources.

You knew all of that and you went for it, anyway, because could you even call yourself a Norris if you didn't go after what you wanted? You knew what being with Carlos would bring but apparently, you were the only one.

After eleven amazing months together, Carlos got cold feet. You don't know how else to describe it. You had told your family after three months; he'd told his after just one. Everyone was happy for you. Your family loves Carlos, and the Sainz clan accepted you with open arms. You were so happy.

But as your relationship pushed a year, Carlos said you needed to talk, called you a distraction, subsequently hazardous for his line of work, and ended things.

Did you call him an emotionally stunted manchild before storming out of the cafe he asked to meet at? If you did, he surely deserved it.

A few weeks after that, you're where you are now, locked in a bedroom on a yacht while a party rages on several floors above. Carlos says he regrets breaking up with you, that he wanted to take back everything he said, but he already said it and that's how things are now.

You'll not be the girl he comes crawling back to whenever it's convenient for him. If going steady is a hazard for work, then an off again-on again situationship is definitely not OSHA-compliant. You refuse to lower yourself to being a doormat that Carlos wipes his feet on whenever he feels he has the time.

After a while of standing guard at the balcony door, Carlos makes a move to sit on the couch with you.

"No," you say.

He halts midstep.

"You can sit on the bed."

Slowly, as though giving you a chance to change your mind, Carlos sulks over to the bed and sits.

He's moving to Williams next year. He has only a handful of races left in rosso corsa. He doesn't know you're sitting on a job offer that could have you following him, a promotion to head strategist at the Oxfordshire team that you can't believe you're actually debating because of your standing with a man.

You've told no one of Williams's proposition. So, you really don't know why you open your mouth to tell Carlos of all people.

"Williams wants me as their head strategist."

He looks up, eyes bright, surprised but excited for you. "What? That is amazing."

"Yeah, I know it is," you say, glaring at him again. "I haven't accepted yet, though."

Carlos is quiet, then carefully says, "Because of me?"

"No," you say because it's just ridiculous for that to be the reason you're holding up contract negotiations, "Yes, because of you. Obviously. I don't want you thinking I'm following you. I'm not. I'm pursuing my career. So, I know that changes you being all regretful. I just want to clarify things before you hear about it from someone else.”

“Why would it change how I feel?”

“Because we’ll still be coworkers next season.”

“That changes it? What does it change?”

Carlos' accent (hot as fuck) and the way he doesn't always say things 100% correct (cute as fuck) are misleading for his actual understanding of the English language. So, you're really not sure what he's getting confused over.

He's leaving. You were supposed to be staying. No longer working together meant no distractions for him until you would meet up at a hotel after a shitty quali and he would fuck the shit out of you. Or something like that.

It'd feel good in the moment but you don't want him for just sex. You don't want casual. You don't want to be a convenient, low-maintenance, not-quite-official girlfriend. You won't do it. No matter how pretty he is.

And his plan to get you back was ruined now that you'd be moving to Williams for next season, anyway.

“I’d not be a distraction if I was staying at Ferrari. Now, we’ll both still be on the same team. Not convenient for you to still be in a toxic work environment, huh? So, you can cut the crap.”

“That has nothing to do with my regret."

"I won't be a casual fuck buddy who you can't stand to be around when it doesn't work for you."

"I never said that!"

He seems genuinely hurt by your implication but you won't fall for it, won't let it deter you.

"It's kind of implied. You know with the whole 'I have to focus on my driving' thing. Like, what the fuck were you doing for the rest of the time we were together? Nothing changed and you suddenly decided it was too much, then you want me back but I ruined that for you. You'll be seeing me next year, too, so don't even bother with the whole regret speech or whatever."

"I—," Carlos starts, then says nothing.

He can't seem to find the words.

"What? Nothing to say? You wanted to talk. Talk."

"If I am in a team with you or not," he says, slow, calculated, "It does not change that I regret what I said."

Carlos takes a second to think before continuing. That's where you two differ.

Carlos has always been incredibly intelligent. You knew he was gorgeous before you had ever met in person but his mind made him appeal even more to you when you first started working trackside last season. Long, intellectual conversations preceded him asking you out after his masterclass in Singapore.

You nearly started foaming at the mouth when he said "it's on purpose" to keeping your brother within DRS to hold off Mercedes. You were ready to jump his bones right then and there in the middle of the team celebration when he asked you to dinner before you flew back to England.

But he was a gentleman. (He didn't fuck you until after your second date, but it was a close thing that first night when you leaned over the center console to kiss him. You'd have ridden him right there in the front seat of that rental car if your idiot brother hadn't chosen then to walk by and make a scene. Kind of a mood killer.)

The two of you both found fascination in the other's way of thinking, Carlos' smooth logic and your chaotic brilliance. He is all thought and few words while you talk and talk until you find your solution.

You always found beauty in the contrast. You balance each other. Simultaneously alike and disimilar. He is someone you saw yourself building a life with. After nearly a year together, those are the kinds of thoughts you start to have about a partner.

"So, you regret it," you gather, "But do you still think I'm a distraction?"

"Of course, you are a distraction. I am in love with you. There is nothing more distracting than that."

You laugh, disbelieving. "You're in love with me but I'm distracting and you can't be with me? Why? Because you love racing more?"

"I was scared. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am."

"Self deprecation won't do you any favors. But, yeah, you are stupid. You're not making any sense."

"I was scared. You were everything I could think of. I thought I could not find a balance between you and racing. But without you, it is even worse. I want you as a distraction. I know that because I have lost you.”

“You haven’t,” you say before your brain even knows what you’re doing. “Not entirely, yet. Maybe… You’re not allowed to do this again. Ever.”

And you’re crying. Of course.

Carlos is at your side in record time, kneeling in front of you, taking immediate advantage of the crack in your defenses. “Never.”

“You can’t do shit like this. You can’t push me aside like I don’t matter. You can’t call me a distraction.”

“You are a distraction. In the best way.”

Unimpressed and wiping your tears, you say, “Wow. You’re such a poet.”

Carlos laughs thickly. “I love you.”

“Ugh, fuck off.”

You’re still wiping at your face. You didn’t cry when Carlos called it quits, refused to let him have any sort of hold over you when he pushed you aside but now, you’re crying. It’s in relief but you still feel your face getting hot from the embarrassment of it.

He knocks your hands aside to cup your cheeks. “You are the love of my life. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I broke.”

“S’not broken. Just bent. Or whatever the saying is. I don’t fucking care—just kiss me.”

Carlos’ “yes, ma’am” is muffled against your lips.

It’s only been three weeks (three and a half but who’s counting) since he last kissed you but it feels like an eternity.

It’s salty from your tears and wet, also from the tears but more from the way you let his tongue into your mouth after probably not enough time has passed. You don’t care. You just want him.

“I love you," you break the kiss to say. "Don't leave me."

"I won't."

"Say it back."

"I love you. I love you I love you I love you."

.

His words jumble between English and Spanish as he kisses down your body.

Your breath catches as he pulls your hips further down the cushion you're sat on. Stupid F1 driver muscles. You want to sink your teeth into his bicep, make him walk around with the bruise, a reminder of who he belongs to.

He slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, looks up for permission. You lift your hips. You've missed what his big brown eyes look like when they're all dark with want.

He pulls your pants and underwear down and tosses them aside, tugging you even closer to the edge of the couch. Your legs part. He puts your knees on his shoulders then finally pushes his face between your thighs.

You let your head fall back as you sigh, probably sounding ridiculous but he's always been good at this.

He had you ride his face one time. He practically had to beg to get you to agree. There was a lot of him gripping onto you, arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to force you to stay in place. He'd kept you there until you couldn't stay upright or fight against his hold, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with just his mouth.

Then, he'd fucked you until you came for a fifth time. (You tell a guy one time about how your last partner hadn't the patience to get more than one orgasm out of you, and he makes it his life's mission to get three or more every time you go at it. How terrible for you. Ha.)

He eats you out like a man starving, like he has something to prove. To be fair, he does but he's not going to be entirely back in your good graces just because he's helping you get off for the first time in three and a half weeks. This is just extra credit.

One of his hands finds yours. He tangles your fingers and holds your hand as he involves his free fingers in slipping past your entrance. You open up for him with obscene ease, legs falling apart even further.

He fucks you with a single finger slow, slow, slow while his tongue licks languidly at your clit.

"Carlos," you whine his name.

You don't need all the pleasure you already know he's more than capable of giving you. You just need to get off already.

"I will get you there, hermosa," he promises with a kiss to your inner thigh.

"Get there faster; I don't want my idiot brother thinking better of his insane plan and letting us out while you're nose-deep in my cunt."

Carlos huffs a laugh. You can feel the air against where you're wet. It makes you squirm.

Usually, Carlos would tell you to stay still and be patient but seems to think better of it this time. You would probably still do as he says, circumstance regardless, but he doesn't need to know that. He just presses his lips back to your pussy.

He sucks on the hardened little bundle of nerves at the joint of your labia just how he knows will make you go limp and needy. He pushes a second then a third finger into you, the stretch just that much more than you can manage with your own, smaller digits.

You could've gotten it with the neglected dildo that lives somewhere mostly forgotten in your closet. There was something that felt so final about bringing out the toy you haven't needed since that second date. Thankfully, you still don't need it. You should consider just pitching it, at this point.

You push your hand through Carlos' hair, brushing the ridiculously perfect locks off his forehead so you can watch his stupid, beautiful face as he goes down on you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby," you praise.

His dark eyes flicker up to you, exhaling against your exposed cunt and shifting his knees on the floor.

You're sure if he had a hand free, he'd be palming himself over his pants. He gets off on you getting off and praise goes straight to his dick. You've got this fantasy of making him come completely untouched but you might need to do actual research on that before it becomes a reality.

He sticks his tongue down with his fingers, lapping at your hole and spitting your wetness onto your clit just because it's hot. Like the way he's slobbering over you isn't enough to make the glide of his tongue over your clit smooth and delectable.

"Come on, baby. Don't tease. Not now."

Carlos makes this little displeased noise in the back on his throat.

Quickies aren't really in Carlos' sexual vocabulary. He occasionally likes it as rough and fast as the next dick-haver but he's more of a spread you open and make love to you for hours at a time kind of guy.

He took you to a secluded little cabana in Mallorca for a week during summer break specifically so you two could spend days on end doing nothing but loving on each other. Then, he took you to meet his family and you had to pretend like you hadn't spent the majority of the week prior with their golden child's dick or fingers or tongue inside of you.

Currently, you're just wanting to find relief without Lando or some other F1 driver walking in on you first.

"Carlos, baby—please."

Carlos likes when you play nice. When you're so desperate for it that your bossy exterior goes away. You tell yourself that you exploit this because your unending pride doesn't like the alternative that you really just are that desperate for it.

He finally starts to finger bang you properly. Combine that with the obscene slurping sounds he's making against your clit and the lack of action for nearly a month and no one could really blame you for not taking long to hit your high.

Heat curls and explodes in your gut and up your spine, back arching, lungs gasping, Carlos' name falling from your mouth as your thighs try to close around his head. He gets his elbows up to hold your legs open. His fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls his other hand free of your grip to massage your clit with his thumb, kissing your thighs, pubes, stomach.

He captures your lips in a kiss while you're still riding it out. It's intense and leg-shaking after so long without, emotion-driven, which is the best kind but not worth it after knowing what the fear of losing him is like. You can hardly kiss him back, face pulled in pleausre, moans spilling past your lips that Carlos swallows unburdened.

You tuck your face into his shoulder as he drags it out just to the precipice of overstimulation. You tug him into you, arms around his shoulders, fingers tugging the hair at the base of his skull. He lets his fingers rest inside of you, rests that thumb against your clit so he can hold you back with one arm, at least.

You just breathe for a moment, composing yourself where he can't see your face. The worst may be over but the level of trust you'd built over months together would not be so easily reinstated. He'd have to work hard for that, much harder than a sinlge mind-blowing orgasm.

"Don't leave me," you say in a whisper. "You can't, okay?"

"I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise I will not leave you again. I am the most dumb man if I lose you another time. I will deserve it, then."

"Be smart, then. Like I know you have the capacity to be."

Carlos pulls his fingers out. He catches your shiver, still wrapped up in his one arm. He kisses your cheek before finding something to clean his hands with. You've pulled your pants back on when he's finished.

"Likelihood someone heard us?" you prompt.

"Heard you, you mean?"

You kick at him as he comes back over to you. "Watch it."

He tucks you against his side once he's sat. "Scale?"

"One to a hundred."

"90, at least."

You smack his chest. "Dick."

"You are very loud, mi amor. You talk so much, and you make such pretty noises."

"Don't insult me immediately after I've forgiven you."

You've not drawn away from him at all. In fact, you've tucked your feet up on the couch to curl into him fully.

Carlos knows this. He presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you. I am sorry I am so stupid."

"I guess I've just got to have enough brains and beauty for the both of us."

"You have always."

You hide your smile in his chest. He holds your thigh when you put your legs across his lap. Now you've got him back, you want to be as close as physically possible. Whoever first said they want to be inside their partner's skin really gets it.

.

George Russell ends up getting sent to let you two out. Evidently, your brother fled the scene of the crime once the yacht returned to port in the early hours of the morning. He dumped the chore of opening Pandora's box on an innocnet bystander.

"I am so sorry—"

"Oh, clever," you say when you spot the poor Brit, "He sends an uninvolved party to let me out like I couldn't track him anywhere in the world. I've his trainer's phone number and Jon likes me more than him. I am going to beat his skinny little muppet ass. When I find him—"

You trip over the tangle of chairs that had been used to barricade the bedroom door from the outside.

Carlos catches your elbow.

"Amor, it is late," he says. "Sleep, first, hm?"

You relax into his hold a bit, a silent concession. It'll be easier to murder your little brother after a good night's sleep, anyway.

"So, are you two...?" George trails off.

You cut him a glare.

"Nothing. Never mind. Apologies."

He speeds around the two of you and off the boat.

"The 2019 rookies are all terrified of you."

"Good."

Carlos laughs. "I am excited to see what Alex is like with you next year."

You smile.

Next year, you'll still be working with Carlos. It'll be at a different team, a midfielder at best but at least Carlos will still be on the grid. He'll still find increasingly laughable excuses to be in engineering just to see you. He'll still come home to you, the same that you'll come home to him.

A future with Carlos is still in the cards. He'll be damned if he messes it up again, you know that much.

[bywons]

✢ ⠀ CRAWLING BACK TO YOU — PJS

━━━ ❛ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

( 𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝓓𝖤𝖢𝖮 ) 𝗉𝗃𝗌 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 ` ィ 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾? 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 1334 𝑤𝖼 && CATALOUGE

✦ PLS REBLOG if u enjoyed !! | click me 𝑖𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈

“glad to kn-know i'm still relevant in your world,” jay pushes the door aside, stumbling to the side of your apartment door. back pressed against it with his head held high, he shoots you a smug smirk as he's almost about to slide down. “i knew you miss me, darling.”

he's drunk, it's clear as day. you don't miss out the little silver flask almost falling off from his hand and how he reeks of alcohol, who knows how many drinks he had this night. you don't even remember why you called him in the first place, it's 3 in the morning— both too early and late and scandalous to call a person, especially when it's your ex. especially when it's a drunk park jongseong.

“jay,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “what are you doing here?”

he chuckles, his laugh a mix of genuine amusement and intoxicated sloppiness. “you called, so here i am,” he says, attempting to stand up straighter but failing miserably. “couldn't leave you hanging, could i?"

you groan internally, cursing your impulsive decision. “fuck me,” you mutter. “come in before you wake up the whole building.” you literally drag him into your apartment before shutting the door close. jay collapses on the couch, a faint smirk still directed at you.

did you call him? everything in the past hour has been so obscure that you didn't even notice the dry tears on your cheeks until now, when a cool breeze caresses it, leaving an odd stretchy feeling against your dry skin. maybe it's a few glasses of wine, or a drunk call? maybe you called him to deal with the cockroach in your room which you know you can deal with yourself. or maybe it's the overwhelming loneliness that's been gnawing at you lately. regardless, calling jay at 3 in the morning wasn't your smartest move.

“now, why'd you call me?,” ah of course, now he will want to talk about your break up. he can barely make sentences, words overlapping each other in a somewhat coherent sentence, “3 am is definitely your timing.”

and the best way to ignore a drunk talking park jongseong? offer him water to sober down, because heck you can't understand anything. neither him nor this situation.

grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you hand it to him, watching as he struggles to sit up and open it before finally taking a sip.

“why did you call me?" he asks, voice softer now. the redness of his eyes and the bravado in his voice fading. he looks up at you, only a hands’ distance away from where he's sitting.

“i need you to ah—,” shit. eye contact with park jongseong still has the same effect on you, “help me move some furniture. you know, crazy landlady.” you let out a chortle.

“moving furniture? at 3 am?,” jay narrows his eyes, gaze piercing through you, it's obvious he doesn't believe you, “do i seriously have the word dumb tattooed across my face?”

jay doesn't move an inch from his place, eyes lying still on yours, an unspoken connection that's been missed by you both, a connection so palpable and mellow that it's still a residue in this messed up relationship. you realise how much you miss his eyes— he moves your heart by them and he's still. you wish you could kiss him right now, does he want that too? after all, why wouldn't he want that? no man is willing to stumble to their ex's apartment at 3 in the morning in a drunken state. that too after just one call which could've been an accident? jay definitely wants you back.

“no, no at all jay, i'm really—”

“you were with heeseung last week,” jay doesn't let you finish explaining yourself— before he gives you another mishap to explain. his eyes narrow down even more, he catches his lips between his teeth, “...i didn't like that.”

“you should've closed your eyes and walked out of the bar then, jay,” you snap. it's quite insufferable for park jongseong to be furious over the consequences of his actions. you had to return home late at night, and with no car how could you? you don't trust cabs at that hour, but you do still trust your ex. and when even the last option opts out himself you're left with something out of syllabus— his best friend. you have to go home! “don't start with that.”

“fair, want me to start with fixing ’seung?,” jay's words are colder than the flask he's carrying.

“jay you better not—”

“oh i won't,” jay scoffs, evident jealousy laced in his voice, “i have better things to do.”

it's only a split second, and you don't know when or how you end up under him on the sofa, his hand softly clasping around your wrist and the other encircling your waist. jay entangles his legs with yours, an impossible knot to get out of. there's still a drunken reflection in his eyes as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, hand caressing your cheeks. his eyes stunt yours, you're suddenly unable to speak as you feel his lips press down yours. they sloppily trace down to your cheeks to your jaws and neck. jay giggles in between, probably at your sudden silence, and the way he feels your hands pull his collar closer to you.

that's the most basic method to try and get back your ex. but you don't find yourself stopping him.

“so, this is the better thing?,” you scoff when you look up at him, jay leaves a final kiss on the crook of your neck before he hovers over you again.

his silver chain dangles from his neck, the coldness of it caressing the bridge of your nose, sending an electric wave down your spine. pairing up with his smug eyes and lazy grin is the deadliest combo ever, it's not good for you at all. should you really get back with him? kiss this better with him?

“the best thing,” jay whispers, “don't know why heeseung even tries,” he rolls his eyes, “you're mine, he should use his eyes.”

“am i really yours?,” you sigh, your hold on his black shirt's collars loosening as your eyes become glossy at the thought of something disturbing, “i saw you…with someone else too.” it felt weird somewhere to feel betrayed when you see some random girl clinging to your ex, even though you know jay probably brushed her off later but you didn't wait to see the scene.

“oh no no, love,” you expected jay to panic and chant ‘it was a mistake’, but you're glad he didn't live up to this expectation. he's confident about what he says, as he moves lower and closer to your face, tracing the bridge of your nose to your jaws, “i'm too busy being yours, there's no someone else.”

“aren't you being a little cheesy?,” a tiny smile hangs on your lips, threatening to turn into a laugh, as you play with his collars.

“can't even tell the truth now?,” it's his turn to grin, he takes your hand in his and places a soft kiss.

you can't help but let out a soft giggle at his words. it's only been a month since you two broke off, but jay still finds his way back to you, like you do too. at this moment jay's world is silent. this is the moment he's been waiting for. sober, with you, kissing you all over with a hope of a new starting. you are his vibrance, he can't afford to lose it.

“i could do anything for you. sorry i failed to make this clear earlier,” his smug expression is back on again.

“anything to come back to me?”

“anything i would die for you, fight for you,” jay confirms, and just like that his lips are back on yours again, “do you want me crawling back to you?”

a/n — uuuhh can u guess this was kinda a hurried writing TT i'm not really satisfied with this but I hope u enjoyed it ^^ pleek lmk ^^

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[lovifie]

Fluff | Smut | 1178 words | Back to Masterlist

Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.

The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.

And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.

Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.

Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking into consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.

A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course, he didn't say anything romantic, instead, he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."

It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."

On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up every day with that sight.

It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.

And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.

Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.

Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.

"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.

"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."

You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hits forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."

"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night is on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.

"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had the energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.

"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knocked out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."

"Simon."

"Simon?"

"Simon Riley."

A beat of silence simmered in the bathroom for a second.

"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."

And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.

But he didn't, instead, he eased his way into your heart.

It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.

Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of your hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lungs but still making him feel more alive than ever.

Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.

Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow in his sleep, completely relaxed and content with himself.

Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.

Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.

Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.

[muniimyg]

what happens if I ask for more bbydaddy jk? 🍼🍪

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (3) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

one thing that you've always liked about jungkook is that he never got in your way.

from the beginning, he has always been supportive and more than willing to compromise (aka accept the short end of the stick) if it was about your happiness. besides, he has always offered and insisted... and it's not a selfish thing to want more for yourself, right? so, you can't help but take it. you're grateful and beyond relieved that the father of your child is such a loving man. you know it. you believe it.

so, it baffles you he finally does it.

jungkook stands in your way.

"hey! what are you—w-what? jungkook, get up."

but it's too late. jungkook falls to his knees, keeping his chin up. he looks at you, glossy-eyed and utterly heartbroken. he has a bouquet of flowers in one hand while the other is placed on top of his heart.

"i'll be miserable if you do this to me."

"but this isn't about you—"

"make it about me."

a moment passes and his pleading eyes speak beyond his four words. you see it. you see how weak he is and how much of his heart he's laying out for you.

jungkook then takes the silence as a sign to continue his confession. "i'm begging you to fucking choose me right now. please, ___. you can be mad at me forever but d-don't—"

"okay, okay," you yield, bending down and cupping his face with your hands. jungkook can smell the perfume on your wrist and remember how you always wore it on date nights.

he sighs heavily, holding back his tears.

"jungkook, i'm not mad at you. what are you talking about?"

truth be told... he doesn't know either.

all he knows is that he isn't ready for this. he can't live with himself knowing that you chose someone else (you haven't and you didn't). it's a fear that plagues jungkook's mind, body, and soul. it's what drives him crazy and what keeps him sane.

he needs to get you back.

"what's going on, honey? talk to me.." you insist, moving your hands to his hair. you push the strands that cover his eyes away and smile at him gently. "come on, jungkook. it's just me."

"i love you," he says ever so sincerely. "i can't... i d-don't think i'm ready for this."

"for what?"

shrugging, he pushes the flowers in between you two. "you want flowers? you want to go on dates? you want to be loved right? god, ___... i can do it. you know i can—"

"jungkook, i know you can—"

"i can be here seven days a week. i can be more than zion's dad. i love it—i love him, really! but i also love his mom and i'm so fucking tired of acting like the past 8 months of our separation is working for me... because it's not. i miss you all the time and i h-hate... i hate that you're trying to move on."

your eyes widen and your heart breaks.

he's right.

the past 8 months have been such a difficult adjustment. you wish you had more time to confide in him, but you don't. life doesn't stop and it's so draining to wait for people to catch up to you.

"i hate this too," you admit. "a-and if you think i'm trying to move on... you're stupid."

he pouts. "if you're not trying to move on, then why are you going on this date? with nam joon at that... seriously? he's the most boring person in your firm."

you laugh.

"my colleagues said they would stop pushing us to be together if i went out on one date with him. do you know how much time they take away from my cases? all they do is gossip about him and i. you know i hate that—"

jungkook glares at you. "then just tell them we're back together."

"you want me to lie?"

"be honest with me," jungkook tugs you close. "one of us is a liar and it's not me."

you gulp.

"it's not that easy—"

"what do you want, honey?" he asks you. his gaze drops to your lips and then back to your eyes. "i can give it to you."

"jungkook..."

he tightens his lips and places his hand on the back of your neck. gently, he inches you closer to him.

"fuck it. to hell with what you want.”

then, he crashes his lips onto yours.

he kisses you like he's missed you his entire life. he places his hands on your waist as you two make your way inside your apartment. he shuts the door with the back of his foot and guides you to the bedroom you both once shared.

there, he sets you on the bed and begins to undress you. he kisses your waist, easing your mind, and earns pretty moans from you. it boosts his ego. it makes his dick so fucking hard.

god, you fuck him up so bad so fast.

once you’re naked, he takes a second to look at you. he deeply inhales and throws his head back. when he looks at you, you roll your eyes and he winces at you.

“my woman is so beautiful. you are so fucking divine, honey. i’m—goddamn. i’m so favoured.”

you stick your tongue out and toss a pillow at him. he dodges it and laughs.

as you relax, he then begins to strip. you watch, hungrily and more than ready for what's to come next. once he's bare, he towers over you. just as he kisses you and slides his fingers between your wet folds, your phone starts to buzz.

you and jungkook turn your attention to the corner of your nightstand. he groans in annoyance as the buzzing continues. reaching over, he checks the notification.

[5:57pm] 7 missed calls: atty. kim nam joon [now] incoming call: atty. kim nam joon

jungkook hisses.

then, he turns to you and smirks. cheekily, he says; "your vibrator still broken? we can use this instead."

[kookslastbutton]

Baby Maker ༓ kth (m)

✑ Summary: You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions.

Pairing: husband!taehyung x fem!reader

AU/genre: pwp, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 2,473

Warnings: light fighting, hard dom!taehyung, slight brat sub!reader, make up s*x, rough s*x, manhandling, bl*wjob, teasing, b**b groping, degradation (taehyung calls reader a sl*t), impreg k*nk, f*replay, penetration, r*ding, d*ggy, d*rty talk, d*ck slapping, taehyung refers to himself as daddy, mention of aftercare, trouble taking off lingerie bc yeah it be a whole process sometimes.

A/N: seeing Taehyung on esquire...you cannot tell me he doesn't look good omg 🙈 anyway this is filthy sooo I'm going to rock myself to sleep now bc i work on the moring, pls enjoy 💞

"Sweetheart, I didn't mean to be late. I'm sorry."

Taehyung stands in front of you with pleading eyes. He tries not to drop his gaze below your neck, seeing that you're more than pissed at him for getting home nearly an hour later than planned. He feels bad about it, he really does. But he can also easily see his favorite fiery red lingerie peeking out of your silky robe, making him all the more eager to show you how he can make it up to you.

"Well that's too bad Taehyung because I'm not in the mood anymore." You tighten your arms across your chest and stand your ground. If your husband didn't look like sex on legs all the time this would be a lot easier nevertheless, he will not be getting his dick sucked tonight.

"Are you kidding?" He gives you a 'really' look before reaching for one of your wrists. "You're always in the mood for baby making. Been in the mood for months. Come on sweetheart, how many times do I need to tell you I'm sorry? Let me make it up to you."

"No." You swiftly pull away from him. "I'm showering and then going to bed." You head over to your dresser to grab a pair of pajamas to change into. Are you being petty? Maybe. But you and Taehyung have been trying for a baby over the past two weeks. So him being late tonight just feels like he isn't taking any of it seriously.

"Don't even think about trying to come in here," you spit, moving to close the door of the master bathroom. Taehyung gives a small sigh before stopping the door with his hands. Your eyes avert to the motion immediately—damn his fingers for being so long and sleek.

"Baby I know I shouldn't have been late, and I know you're horny but aren't we being the tiniest bit stubborn here?"

"What the hell did you say?" You can't believe your ears. "You think this is me just being stubborn and horny? No, this is me-, you pause, scrambling for words. "I'm punishing you!" You point at him accusingly.

"Punishing me by withholding sex? From being an hour late tonight? I get it baby, I do but is that what you really want? To take a shower, then go to sleep." He pushes his way through the door and walks up to you until he's towering over you. His warm blonde locks drape over his eyes— you know how soft they feel in your hands. "Or," his deep honeyed voice teases near your ear as he tugs on one of your robe's straps. "Do you want to take off this useless piece of material and I'll show you how sorry I am?" He sets his hands on your hips, tracing down the fabric of your robe. "I'll let you ride me," he husks.

You bite the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to keep yourself from throwing yourself at him. It's not every night that you're allowed to top with a husband as alpha as Taehyung in the bed. And the way his hands are moving so sensually up and down your sides is making you shudder with arousal.

"Fuck you. Fuck you to the moon and back Taehyung."

"Great, let's start that tonight." Taehyung takes it as a go and you pound on his back with your fists when you feel your whole body being slung over his shoulder. He plops you on the bed within seconds and crawls up to you in a straddling position—thighs on either side of your waist. "I swear to god __, our baby better not inherent this stubborn streak of yours." He starts untying the knot of your robe and prys the material open to slip down your shoulders.

"What baby?" You sit up a little to let him remove it. "The only baby you seem to be making is with Park Jimin. You were at his house all day. Or was it Jungkook? Did you have a threesome with them?"

"For fucksake, no I wasn't having a threesome with those idiots who can't even get their dicks out of their pants." He tosses the robe to the side, cock swelling at the sight of you underneath him in lacey red lingerie and black lace garters—this he did not see before. "And I'm not into Jimin, he's too into his porno films. Now enough whining. I said I was sorry."

"You were watching porn with Jimin?!" Your eyes go large as saucers. Apparently, that's all you heard. Taehyung lets out a throaty growl, more than fed up with your attitude tonight.

"No I wasn't! Stop it. I wasn't fucking or watching people fuck." He holds your wrists down on the mattress to keep you from moving about. "You get so goddamn needy. I didn't realize you could get this horny."

"I told you its not about—"

"Shut up and let me kiss you." Taehyung presses his mouth against yours, biting your lower lip like a sin. You squirm underneath his hold but end up moaning when he slips his tongue into the small crease between your lips.

"Taehyung," you let out a breathy gasp when you feel his fully hardened cock brush against your center. Not much else gets to come out after that as Taehyung continues to lick every corner of your mouth, toying with your tongue at the same time.

It's when he finally breaks from your lips to trace wet kisses along the curve of your neck that you can catch your breath again. His firm hold on your wrists also loosen, but you know exactly where they're moving next.

"Did you really expect me to believe you'd put on my favorite lingerie with these godforsaken garters only to not have your brains completely fucked tonight?" He squeezes your breasts and rolls his thumbs around your nipples, feeling them harden with the friction.

You choose to remain silent this time, slightest smirk on your face which no doubt irritates your husband to no end.

"Don't want to say anything anymore Mrs. Kim?" He fiddles with the front of your bra, specifically the tiny hook that's holding the cups together. "Nothing at all? Just gonna lay there and stare at me with those beautiful lusty eyes?"

"You know I was feeling really guilty earlier," Taehyung rasps, leaning back to throw his shirt over his head. "I was afraid you were actually mad at me and at first I think you were. But..." He reaches to unbuckle his belt. "Now you're just acting like a brat to tick me off."

You bite down a whimper when his cock bounces free, practically throbbing to be inside something. You've taken Taehyung many times with tears streaming down your face, each round reminding you of his massive size.

"Fuck," he groans as he takes himself in his palm. "If you want to be treated like a brat so much then it's your lucky day." He straddles your sides again, the head of his cock falling proudly in front of your lips. "Open," he demands, but you bite your lip; feigning innocence.

Your husband is not impressed, however. "Quit acting like you've never seen cock before," he barks. "You're the furthest thing from a virgin so open up."

Rude, you think before slowly sticking your tongue out until it touches the slit of his cock. You know it'll piss him off but you decide it's fun to keep swirling around the sensitive area, collecting the pre-cum dripping out.

"Shit, don't." Your husband groans and screws his eyes shut to keep himself from coming early.

You should take this as a warning but you're far too pleased of yourself so you continue teasing him, making sure a few purposeful moans slip out as you lick around his tan tip.

"Fuck I'm gonna blow my load in ten seconds if you don't stop. Baby, stop."

You ignore your husband's pleas and wrap your lips around the head of his length, sucking it with determination. As if to counter the filthy action you sparkle your eyes up into his dark ones. You make them as big as you can. Anytime now and he'll-

"I said stop you fucking slut!" The words are barked at you without warning. Taehyung takes his cock from you and slaps it across your cheek. A very sticky substance smears on your face. "Now, get my dick wet or nothing's going into that slutty little cunt."

You widen your mouth to take him deeper at his threat but it's too slow—or Taehyung's too impatient. Either way, his thick length shoves to the back of your throat and starts running in and out of your mouth with a vengeance. You choke at the intensity of each thrust, vision blurring due to the tears building.

"Is it too much sweetheart?' He provokes, beads of sweat line his forehead and a vein threatens to pop from his neck any second. "Too big for your pretty mouth to handle?"

You feel yourself clench as the heavy weight of his length glides faster on your tongue. The anticipation of his release is killing you and though you can't speak, right now, you want your husband to make you look like such a messy whore that his come fills your mouth and spills down your tits. Then you want him to flip you over, prop your ass up, and fuck you until burning hot sensation courses through your body.

While in thought, Taehyung takes the opportunity to slip himself out of your mouth. A string of spit can't help but follow with it.

"But—"

"It's plenty wet now," Taehyung smirks at your obvious distress. He moves to take your panties and garter off next. "Fuck," he swears in frustration. "How do you get this off dammit?" You help him wiggle yourself out of the contraption (which ends up taking a good five or six minutes).

As soon as the lace fabric is discarded, you find yourself quickly being lifted on his hardened member. Taehyung makes sure you're well-supported before roughly thrusting up into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce to the rhythm he sets, tempting him to go faster.

"I promised I'd let you ride me didn't I?"

"Not—what I—had in mind," you pant. "Fuck, Taehyung you're always so fucking big—ah!" You grip his shoulders when his cock perfectly hits your g-spot.

"Good to see you've found your voice again baby. I was beginning to think you were going to give me the silent treatment this whole night."

"Shut—ah shit—yes, Taehyung, right there! Faster, fuck!" You moan, too caught up in the way his cock is making you feel to care about talking back.

"What a filthy mouth on you Mrs. Kim. No one taught you any manners?" He darts his tongue out to gently graze across a nipple. At the action, you start moving with his thrusts; meeting them in sync.

"So good Taehyung." Your eyes flutter shut. "If this doesn't get me pregnant then—"

You squeal when you're suddenly thrown off his cock and turned on your stomach. With your ass positioned nice and high in the air, your husband can see every trace of your arousal.

"Don't worry about that sweetheart." His cock pushes back into your pussy, teeth nipping at your ear ever so gently but enough to send a shiver down your spine. "Daddy's definitely gonna make you a mommy tonight."

Taehyung caves over you to fully cover your back before picking up the same pace as before. "You want my cum baby?" He grunts. "Want me to fill you up and make you round with my child?"

"Yes-yes." You grip the sheets underneath you for leverage. "Want you to put a baby in me Taehyung."

"Fuck—say that again." He growls and continues snapping his hips. The sound of skin slapping on skin is so lewd but you and Taehyung can't be bothered by the noise when you're breathing so heavily in each other's ear.

"I want you to put a baby in me Tae."

"Louder."

"I want—," you struggle to repeat the words when you feel your walls tighten around his length. Your stomach churns too and the way his cock fucks in you gets seemingly harder to take.

"Close baby?"

"Mm." You barely respond, too focused on getting to your high.

"And to think you were simply going to shower and sleep tonight." He circles back to your earlier argument with the cockiest smirk on his face but it's wiped off as quick as it came when you start grinding your hips to meet his thrusts.

"That's it," Taehyung clenches his teeth. "Get yourself off—holy fuck you feel so goddamn tight around me."

"I'm—I'm coming!" Once the cord snaps in you, your eyes roll to the back of your head. Ropes of your cum drip over your husband's length, covering it completely, and down part of your inner thigh. Taehyung's cock twitches in response and his breaths turn into aggressive pants as he starts chasing after his own release.

"Shit baby, shit! I'm so fucking close. Gonna breed this pussy, tell me you want it one more time baby."

"Mm, yes, want it so bad," you let out a strained moan. "Come in me—ah daddy!" His length reaches a little further this time, making you yelp.

"Shit, you okay baby?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Keep moving. It just surprised me."

"If I go too hard, tell me okay?" You respond with the loudest 'mhm' you can.

After a few more broken groans and profanities your husband finally finishes with his cum painting your walls less than thirty seconds later.

A long sigh of relief leaves both your lips when you roll over on your backs—sweaty, sore, and satisfied.

"Wasn't expecting you to call me daddy in bed." Taehyung lazily hovers near your body and presses a kiss to your lips. You allow his tongue to slip in for a minute before shoving him off.

"Don't get used to it, mister. And don't ever slap me with your dick again. I'm all sticky."

"I'm sorry, do you want me to draw you a bath?"

"You best believe I do."

"Yes ma'am." Taehyung goes to get up but he falls back down. "Can you give me like ten minutes first? We went a little hard tonight, I can't really feel my dick."

"You sure about that?" You reach over to gently grip his length.

"Shit—hurts baby."

"Sorry." You grin, not sorry at all. "I'm sure it'll be fine in the morning."

Taehyung looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "Are you kidding? It'll be fine by the time I get you in the bath."

A/n: ...goodnight 😇

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[morganwrites12672]

Crush

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: The sorority girl that Sam has had a crush on for ages approaches him at a party one night.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Sorority Girl!Reader. Drinking. Smoking. It's a party. Smut. Fingering (f!receiving). Unprotected sex (bad idea, don't try this at home).

A/N: MINORS DNI also, thank you to @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading and helping with some of this for me!

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The music was blasting throughout the house. Everyone had already drank too much. Well, almost everyone. She had been drinking soda all night. Being the designated driver was something she didn't mind doing. It was difficult though. Sorority girls were a fucking nightmare after a couple of shots.

Most of her Saturday nights were spent like this. The only difference was that by now she had usually gone upstairs with a guy. She leaned against the doorframe in the kitchen, watching the party. She took a sip of her soda. It was late, she was starting to get bored.

Parties weren't near as much fun sober. Probably because they had no real appeal. Without the liquor coursing through her veins all she saw was a bunch of idiots getting shit faced. She didn't think much of it. Next week, whenever one of her sorority sisters would be on designated driver duty, she would have a blast. Get shit faced, hookup. Anything she wanted. Anyone she wanted.

Being a sorority girl had benefits.

She threw her empty solo cup into the kitchen trash can before venturing back out to the party. She weaved her way through all of the drunk college kids. Knowing that she looked just like them on any other weekend made her feel a bit stupid. She ignored those thoughts. They wouldn't prevent her from partying next weekend. She needed to have something to look forward to after a week of hell.

She made her way to an area with less people; right beside the staircase. She noticed a man with shaggy brown hair and smiled. She could tell that he wasn't from one of fraternity's around here, or on the football team. That didn't seem to bother her for some reason.

She gave him a smile, her glossed lips shimmering in the lights of the party. "What's your name?" She asked him, eyes taking him in. He made her stomach do a back flip. The feeling was. . . oddly unusual. It almost made her do a double take.

The mans cheeks turned a soft shade of pink before he replied. It wasn't that hard for her to notice how flustered he was. She found it adorable. Again, something oddly unusual. She usually chose guys with a lot more confidence.

"Uh, Sam." His words were nearly drowned out by the music of the party. He realized how quiet his words had came out and repeated them a bit louder. His eyes drank her in. He couldn't believe that she was talking to him. The girl he'd had a crush on for most of his time at Stanford.

"It's nice to meet you, Sam." She replied before giving him her name. She fixed a piece of hair that had fallen into her face, pushing it behind her ear so that it wouldn't bother her any longer. "Did you come here alone?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"N-no. My friend made me come," He replied. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair to fix his messy bangs. Her eyes lingered as she watched him. He noticed her gaze and his blush deepened.

His words made her smile brighten, "I take it that means you're available?" She asked. She wanted to confirm that he was single. She might get called a slut but that doesn't mean that she goes after guys in a relationship. It's not her fault that most lie.

Sam's eyes went wide. His heart hammered in his chest. He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Was she seriously asking him that question? He had known who she was before she'd introduced herself. Who didn't? She was pretty and popular. Sam had always hidden a tiny crush on her. Well, him and half of the other guys at this school.

"I-I am."

"Good," she said with a smile. She fixed her dress, pulling the hem down from where it had ridden up on her thighs. She loved the dress she was wearing. It was gorgeous and fit her body like a glove. The only issue was how much of a pain it was to keep pulling it down all night. It was worth it though.

"You look nice," Sam said, having built up an ounce of courage (which has already vanished). He was nervous as hell. Confidence wasn't his strong suit.

She leaned in a bit closer. "Thanks. You look great yourself," She replied. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. He looked like a god damn dream. She wondered how she hadn't noticed him before tonight.

Sam's eyes lingered on the way her sparkly eyeshadow gleamed in the light. He couldn't help but admire her. She was fucking gorgeous tonight, and any other night. He thought she looked incredible no matter where he saw her, or what she wore. She was perfect in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?" She said, making sure that he was okay with it. It wasn't often that she was the one to make the first move. She enjoyed it. Usually guys were pawing at her body with their tongues down her throat before even asking her name. Sam was different.

When Sam stayed silent she pressed her lips against his. She guided one of his hands to rest on her hip. She deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly sliding into his mouth. His lips tasted like cheap beer and Carmex.

He let out a soft groan as she kissed him harder. He let her have most of the control, going along with her movements. He let his hand gently squeeze her hip. She didn't seem to mind.

She pulled away after a minute, wanting to see the look on his face. The look on his face made her want to drag him upstairs that very second. His cheeks were a perfect shade of pink, his mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were wide. She noticed the way his hazel eyes stared at her lips.

She noticed a smudge of pink gloss on his upper lip and wiped it away with her thumb. It made his blush deepen even more. Every touch from her had his body on fire. He has a chance with a girl he'd had a crush on for a while, he couldn't screw this up.

"That was-" she began to say but was cut off whenever Sam kissed her. She let out a small gasp against his lips. She hadn't expected him to do something like that. Not that she minded, not one bit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He moaned into the kiss as she gently tugged on the hair she had been playing with. She walked a few steps backwards, all while still kissing Sam.

Whenever her back hit the wall, she leaned her head back to catch her breath. Sam pressed a cautious kiss to her collarbone. Her body arches into his touch and a smile spread over his lips. He kissed his way up to her jaw line, not yet brave enough to leave an actual hickey. Soft kisses would have to do for now.

"Let's take this upstairs," She said with a smile. Her lip gloss was smudged. She knew it, and didn't give a fuck. She would fix it later. Sam took a step back from her so that she could lead the way. He wasn't sure if she had a specific room in mind.

She walked past him, grabbing his hand as she walked. They walked last a couple drunkenly making out on the stair case, she rolled her eyes. At least she had the decency to get a room. Well, whenever she was sober. Tonight was making her rethink how often she drank. And how wasted she got. Maybe Sam would be a better influence on her.

She walked to the end of the hallway, finding a door that didn't have any noises coming from behind it. She gave sams hand a soft squeeze before opening the door and walking inside. She wasn't used to guys treating her this way. Sam made her feel special, even if she's barely even met him.

The door was shut and locked as soon as they had both stepped inside. She looked up at Sam, admiring every feature of his face. She couldn't help herself. He looked at her in a way that made her feel special. She didn't feel like some cheap hookup. She felt like he wouldn't leave her the second he got his fill.

Her hands went to the top button off his shirt. She paused though. Her eyes met his. "I'm going to take this off now, okay?" She said to him.

"Y-yeah. Okay" Sam's breath caught in his throat as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She wasn't ripping his clothes off. No, she was taking her sweet time. She wanted to enjoy every second of this. And she would.

As she was unbuttoning his shirt, she leaned up to kiss him again. His hand rested on her hip for a moment before resting on her ass. The two made their way to the bed, their lips never separating. It seemed as though breaking the kiss for even a second would be the end of the world right now.

She laid back on the bed. Sam's shirt had fallen to the floor sometime during the short walk over to the bed. He looked down at her with a smile. She was beautiful. He would never get tired of this view. He could only hope that he'd get the chance to see her again.

She sat up before adjusting the pillows behind her. She leaned back, half sitting up. Sam moved towards her and his hand gently cupped her jaw before kissing her again. She grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her thigh.

She let her hands drift to the waistband of his jeans. She palmed his growing erection through the thick material. He broke the kiss, whimpering against her lips. The beautiful sound made her chuckle softly.

"You like that, huh?" She asked with lustful eyes. Every sound that Sam made had her going crazy.

Sam's cheeks turned red and he didn't reply, his gaze drifting down to the cleavage visible with how low cut her dress was. His eyes widened slightly. He didn't like how easily she was able to fluster him.

"Have you done this before?" She asked. She wanted to make sure that he wasn't about to lose his virginity at a shitty party.

"I-I have," Sam replied a bit quieter. It has been his first year at Stanford with some girl in his old English class. It hadn't been at a party like this though. No, the girl had been over at his apartment to study.

"Can I touch you?" Sam asked as his gaze went even lower. "Please?" He added. His eyes couldn't budge from her thighs. Her dress had ridden up whenever she had sat up against the pillows.

She smiled and pushed her dress up over her hips before spreading her legs for him. Sam grazed his fingers over her black underwear. He looked up at her to see her reaction.

Her breathe caught in her throat. Her core was throbbing. She was desperate for his touch. She noticed his hesitancy. She lifted her hips up a bit and he retracted his hand. She slid her underwear off.

"It's okay, you can touch me." Her words were gentle as she guided his hand to in between her thighs.

Sam slid a finger through her wetness and she gasped. She let her head fall back on the pillows, her hair sprawling out around her. Sam's touch was cautious. She grabbed his wrist and made his fingers prod at her entrance.

"U-use your ring finger first."

Sam followed her instructions, gently pushing his ring finger inside of her. He heard her gasp and looked up. He pushed his finger in all of the way and she groaned.

"Now c-curl it."

She moaned as he followed her instructions. The noise made Sam freeze for a moment. The second she bucked her hips against his hand he went back to curling his finger inside of her tight cunt. The noises coming out of her had his cock straining against his jeans. He attempted to ignore it as he curled his finger a little faster.

She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and he froze. She guided his hand so that his ring finger was now curling while thrusting in and out of her wet cunt. She moaned again, he was a fast learner even if his previous experience was more limited than hers.

"Ah-Add another," She gasped as she felt heat build up in her core. She felt Sam slip his middle finger inside of her. She rocked her hips in time with the thrusting of his fingers. Moans escaped her throat as he worked her open. "Fuck! Just like that."

"D-do you like this?" Sam asked. "I-i mean it sounds like you do but. . . I want to make sure I'm doing. . . this. . .right," He stuttered, not stopping his movements. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers.

"Y-yes!" She moaned. "J-just like that. You're doing such a good job for me," She gasped. She grabbed his other hand and moved it to her clit. He seemed to understand what she wanted and began rubbing sloppy circles on her puffy clit.

Her thighs had a slight tremble as her cunt squeezed his fingers even more. His fingers rubbing her clit sent jolts of pleasure throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm creeping up on her.

"I'm close!" She moaned as she clamped down around his fingers. Her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. Sam felt her walls tighten around his fingers as her moans increased in volume. He kept thrusting his fingers, riding her through her orgasm as her moans grew more strained. She grabbed his wrist as a signal for him to stop. The overstimulation left her cheeks flushed.

His fingers slipped from her sopping hole, and his eyes flicked to her face, wide with awe. She took his wrist in her hand, guiding it to her mouth, and sucked on his fingers, letting her eyes flutter closed, she swirled her tongue around his fingers. A low moan escaped her throat at the taste of herself. Her eyes fluttered open and she giggled at the sight of Sam. She couldn't help herself. His mouth was hanging down for God's sake.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she pulled him down to her level. Her lips pressed against his. Sam was still frozen in a combination of shock and awe. He thought all of the noises that he had pulled out of her. As they kissed, her tongue invaded his mouth. Sam let out a small, needy whimper as she kissed him.

She sat up, pushing him down onto the bed before straddling his waist. Her hands went to the zipper of his jeans. She looked up at him. Sam's face and chest were flushed, his lips were red and slightly puffy, he already looked so fucked out and she had barely even touched him. She didn't waste any time in unzipping his pants. Sam lifted his hips and helped her get rid of the constricting material.

She teased him over his boxers. A strangled moan escapes Sam's throat as she ran her fingers over his clothed erection. His head dropped down onto the pillows, she gazed at his exposed throat. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the smooth expanse of delicate skin. Sam's breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of her lips.

"P-please. . . Please," Sam practically whimpered.

She let out a soft chuckle. "Please. . . what?" She continued her movements, gently running her fingers over his clothes erection. "I need you to use your words for me, sweetheart."

Sam's hips buck up, desperate for more. "P-please," He moans out. His chest heaves as he fights to keep his breathing even. "I need you to f-fuck me."

She tugged on the waistband of his boxers. Sam quickly lifted his hips so that she could rid him of the pesky material. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and gave it a light squeeze. She admired the pretty pink tip, leaking precum.

She lifted her hips before lining up her entrance with the tip of his cock. She had to admit, he was definitely larger than most guys she'd slept with. She wasn't going to tell Sam that though. She studied his expression with a small smile on her face. Sam watched her every move with his jaw slack, quiet moans leaving his throat.

She sinks down on him and his hands fly to her hips. She places one of her hands on his chest for support. She moans as she slowly sinks down. The stretch is a burn that quickly fades into an ache for more.

"F-fuck," She moaned out, adjusting to his size.

Sam was a beautiful mess beneath her. His hands squeezed her hips, just for something to hold onto. His body quivered ever so slightly. She felt so fucking tight around his cock. She'd barely even started and he could already feel heat forming in his stomach.

He moaned out her name as she rocked her hips. "P-please," He gasped as she lifted her hips up before dropping back down. Every thrust of her hips had him begging for more. The feeling of her tight cunt wrapped around him was almost too much.

He let one hand fall from her hip and slide in-between her legs. As his fumbling fingers found her clit, she let out a small gasp. Her eyes met his. It was the most gorgeous sight Sam had ever seen. Her tits bounced with every thrust of her hips, her lips were parted as she let out another moan, every piece and part of her was perfect.

How had he gotten this lucky? He never would have thought that she ever find out he even existed. Let alone wind up in bed with him. The view in front of him was like something from one of his wildest fantasies.

"Y-you look. . . s-so perfect," Sam half moaned, half whimpered as his fingers rubbed tight circles on her clit. He experimented with the speed. Whenever he hears her breath hitch in her throat he knew that he was doing it right.

She struggled to keep up her current pace with the way that Sam's cock hit that place inside of her cunt that practically made her see stars. Her lower abdomen was on fire. If Sam didn't slow down she might come quicker than she had been expecting.

"F-fuck! Just like that," She cried out.

Sam might not be the most experienced guy ever, but he was definitely a quick learner. The hand that wasn't on her clit went to her chest. He gently massaged one of her breasts. The soft skin felt like heaven beneath his hand. He squeezed her nipple and she moaned even louder. He was carefully watching every reaction she had, making sure that he was doing all of this right.

"Y-you feel so good," He whimpered.

His back arched up from the bed as he felt her walls tighten around him. He could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. His hips bucked up, meeting her thrusts. The action made her cry out.

"I-I'm. . . I'm about to come," Sam whimpered, his chest heaving.

His fingers had found a steady pace on her clit. Every circle of his fingers sent white hot pleasure coursing throughout her body. The way his hands carefully gripped at her chest. He soon moved the hand that had been on her chest, to her hips. He attempted to help guide her thrusts. She seemed to be tiring out.

"M-me too," She replied with a moan. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her. His eyes rolled back as his grip on her hips tightened. It only made her work harder. She was so fucking close. Sam wouldn't be able to last any longer.

He cried out from the overstimulation as her tight walls clenched around his cock, her own orgasm making her thrusts shaky. She felt pleasure overtake her body as Sam kept circling her clit with his no longer ungraceful fingers.

She guided his hand away as she slowly rocked her hips, basking in the subtle feeling of overstimulation. She slowly sat up before she stops. Her legs had a slight quiver as she walked into the bathroom. The loud music of the party was muted through the door. Though, it was obvious that the party was not even close to being finished for the night.

"Do you want to hop on the shower with me?" She asked with a smile. Sam's eyes went wide (for the hundredth time that night) before he climbed off the bed. He was standing at her side in seconds.

"T-that sounds nice."

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A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[shiinata-library]

Imagine them telling you they love you

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when they tell they love you

A/N: My imagines become more and more ficlets and we now have 4k words of it�� Make you comfortable, and enjoy!

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Fíli

On a cold winter evening under the lonely mountain, two princes are talking over an ale, one of them in a better mood than the other. “I should never have done that,” you hear Fíli sighs, his face hidden in his arms crossed on a table. “It’s too late, brother,” Kíli laughs as he drinks his ale.

It has been a while since you’re friends in this pub. There is only one pub since the rebuilding of Erebor was still ongoing. The place is busy, and princes or not, Kíli and Fíli drink here every Friday night. 

When you entered, you wanted to surprise them and you were waiting for the right moment to join them, but you didn’t expect they would talk about you. Especially about this subject…

“You were drunk, both of you,” Kíli resumes. Fíli gets his head off his arms and sighs again “Drunk or not, you don’t sleep like that with your…”. Someone shouts in the pub while he finishes his sentence. “As if you regret it,” Kíli laughs. “Stop that Kíli!” Fíli shouts seriously.

They should change the subject now, right? But, should you really join them after that? Then you hear “There are things I regret in my life, but this is the worst and you–”. A group of happy dwarves shout a new time their happiness while you freeze. Kíli is looking at you, as surprised as happy to see you. He speaks to his brother while you already start to run away. You don't see Fíli hit the table with his fist even less standing up so suddenly that he spills his beer all over his brother.

You literally run away until you're almost home. In two streets, you will be in the cosy place Thorin gave you under his mountain. Your steps slow down as you realise how stupid you are to think everything could be the same after àthat. You suspected that Fíli avoided you since you spent a night together, and you have your answer. It's clearly unnecessary to talk more to him. It was a mistake. Period. 

Maybe it could be different if you could have talked the next morning. If only he wasn’t a prince, he wouldn’t have early duties every morning. Especially when he was in your bed! Who sends a guard to fetch someone in the bed of his… his what anyway? You’re just his friend. Well, “was” now.

When you’re almost arrived at your place, you hear your name shouted from afar. You could recognise this voice everywhere, so you quickly hide in the first street you see. Except that before being a prince, Fíli was a warrior, and you can’t escape a warrior that easily… Even though you take another way to go home, someone grabs your wrist when you arrive at your front door. Of course, it’s Fíli. And not a happy Fíli. Everyone who’s walking in the street is looking at you since everyone knows Erebor’s heir.

“Listen Fíli. I don’t want a drama. Like you said, let’s forget. And if you don't want to see me again, well, I understand,” you say as you try to get back your wrist. “No. We need to talk. Let's inside,” he simply says as he opens your front door and leads you inside.

After lighting a few candles, you put the last one on the table. You barely turn toward Fíli that he is already in front of you, not leaving you the time to say anything. He clears his voice and you notice how he is nervous. You never see him like that. Not even when he speaks to Erebor’s people officially. “First, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier to talk to you since that night. I had a lot to do but the main reason is I was ashamed.” You repeat the last word he said, unstable to keep your surprise. Yet, he continues, his eyes looking at the candle, “I should never sleep with you. We were drunk.” “Yes, we were drunk, but not enough not to know what we were doing,” you say seriously. His eyes turn now to yours, “Yes, maybe, but I should court you first.” He runs a hand on his face as if it could help him to breathe better while your heart starts to beat stronger. When his eyes come back to you, your heart stops beating. Were his eyes always so mesmerising?

“We, Dwarves, always court their One first. I know Men do differently, but I shouldn’t touch you like that. But your dress… Mahal, you were stunning in this dress that night. I behaved like an idiot… Mahal, I really do blame myself,” he pauses for a breath. A murmur escapes your lips, “their One?”. Something changes in his eyes. You swear they looked at your lips before coming back to your eyes. “Am I your One?” you eventually ask in a quiet tone. “Yes, you are. I have loved you since I saw you. But I also know Men’s mores and I don't expect anything from you,” he declares in a serious, almost sad, tone. “You love me?” you stupidly ask, still stunned by his words.

A smile appears on Fíli’s face. The first smile since that night. A chuckle escapes his lips as his fingers find your cheek, warming it with the memories of what they have done to you. “Are you just going to keep questioning me?” he laughs, his moustache’s braid bouncing. You laugh too, the whole tension vanishing. “Even if I’m of Men, I only sleep with the person I love,” you shyly say. That's all it takes for Fíli to kiss you, this time with  all the love he has for you.

Kili

Since you joined Thorin’s company, you have made friends with Fíli and Kíli. The time you enjoy the most is after dinner. They tell stories about their childhood in the Blue Mountains or some anecdotes about everyone while you tell them about your world. Like them, you can’t stay quiet for a long time, so most of the time the others shout at you to go somewhere else to talk. Which you do. 

Fíli is always the first to go to sleep. That’s why the others don’t make fun of him when you barely can open your eyes in the morning when it's time to leave…

Talking with them at night has become routine and when you arrive in Rivendell, without having to worry about the next day, you spend your first sleepless nights with them. After some time, Fíli doesn’t stay with you late less and less since Thorin seems to need him more and more in the morning.

As the quest goes on, you can’t speak with Kíli in the evening. Fatigue, injury, watches, cold, danger, it seems that everything is trying to avoid you to enjoy your evening. Little by little, there comes a time when you can’t remember the last time you had a long conversation with Kíli and you miss it terribly. During the day, you make some jokes but it’s not the same.

So, as soon as you’re feeling safe, you can’t keep your tongue, you and of course Kíli. The first night at Beorn after Gandalf introduced everyone, you and Kíli spoke all night. So much time to make up! Fíli joined you for the first hour, but he quickly abandoned you.

The next morning, it takes you some time to remember where you are. You hear some voices from afar, but according to the bright sun, it must be late, especially since everyone is already up. Everyone except Kíli still sleeping next to you. Well… Behind you. His arm around your waist. His hand on your stomach. His head buried in your hair… He is too close, right? You can even feel his breathing in your neck. Should you stay like this? You definitely can’t move without waking him up, and you don’t want to wake up in this position. Especially with your cheek as red as a tomato.

But… Breakfast is calling you. As soon as you try to move his hand, his arm holds you stronger, your back pressed against his hard chest. He eventually grumbles, “Don’t move.” You chuckle, “But they won’t leave us anything to eat.” He laughs too, but doesn't seem to move. You wait, trying to find a good idea to wake him up until he says in a sleepy voice, “I want to wake up like this everyday…”. You stay still a moment before turning to him and joking, “Without breakfast?”. His answer doesn’t wait, “With you. In my arms. Every morning.”

Oh. Well. You want it too, but it sounds complicated, right? A woman of Men, a Dwarf prince. Plus, you’re poor. Oh and useless as well. You still don’t know what you’re doing in this quest.

Tired of waiting for your reaction or your answer, Kíli suddenly sits up, his arms crossed on his chest, his hair in a mess, but above all, his frowning eyebrows. “I was saying that I love you, you know?” he says in an upset tone. “Don’t joke with that Kíli,” you sigh, starting to feel hurt with a joke like this so early on a morning that was starting off so well. He already joked about this in the past, flirting with you randomly. He even already kissed you without saying anything afterward. Well, maybe because you almost died and you didn’t have the time to talk about this but…

“I’m not joking! I truly love you!” Now he’s not frowning, his eyes look sincere. You want to believe him. “But you always joke about that,” you grumble in a pouting face. “Not about this. Never. Amrâlimê, I kissed you after we ran from the gobelins because I was so scared of losing you. I couldn't see you and I thought you had stayed behind. When I saw you, I couldn't control myself…” You stop pouting, hoping he says the truth. “Really?” you ask in a shy tone. “Really,” he confirms, a smile widening on his lips. You can't resist a smile like that. “Because I love you too, and if you lie, I’ll–” Of course you can’t finish your sentence. As soon as Kíli hears your words, he leans over you and kisses you. He begins slowly, barely brushing your lips, but when you kiss him back, his ardour takes over. As one of his hands keeps him from falling on you, the other one begins to touch your hip. Even though you would love to continue, you were thinking of stopping him when the door of your makeship dormitory opens. “It's nearly midday! Time to get up, night owls!” Fíli exclaims until he sees what his brother is doing. “Alright, pretend I didn't come,” he says as he turns towards the door. “But I won't be able to hold the others back for long.” He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Kíli laughing like teenagers caught in the act.

Bilbo 

During the quest, you easily became friends with Bilbo. He is a charming person, and you and he have a lot of things in common. Little by little, you understand your feelings for him were more than friendship, but you stayed quiet about it, the quest was too important to think about anything else. After the success of Erebor's quest, Thorin, the new king, offered you and Bilbo to live under the lonely mountain. Bilbo missed too much his home to stay here. Yet, he promised to visit them one day. For you, the choice was harder. The mountain seemed great. You would be glad to help with the rebuilding, but without Bilbo, it wouldn't be the same. So you decide to follow him. 

It's obviously impossible for you to live in the Shire, so you have settled in the closest Men’s town: Bree. You have found a correct job and people are nicer than you would have thought. For visiting Bilbo, it's 6 days walking from door to door, but you quickly decided to use a horse. (You really miss trains and buses…) So now you live two days' ride, you visit him when you can. Bilbo offered to visit you in Bree, but with his ponies’ allergy, you prefer coming to the Shire. 

The Shire is beautiful, even more than all Bilbo told you during the quest. He always finds something interesting to show you. Hike, food, drink, festivities, landscape, market, watching the sky with Old Toby,... You enjoy every time you spend with him. At first, Hobbits looked at you strangely, but now, you could say you have drank tea with all of Bilbo's neighbours. Lucky for you, the closest inn of Bag End, the Green Dragon Inn, has one room at Men’s size, which you found weird until Bilbo explained it’s usually Gandalf’s room.

One summer evening, you’re dining in that very inn with Bilbo after a long hike in the east, on an outside table, the wind glowing softly on you. “I’m glad you’re here,” Bilbo says as he finishes his meal. “You always worked during the summer’s festivities and I always wanted to see you.” “Oh, no. Don’t tell me it begins tomorrow…  But I’m leaving tomorrow!” you sadly sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I thought you knew,” Bilbo says as it was obvious. “It’s the same dates every year. And you saw the tent and everything under the Party Tree, didn't you?” “I thought it was over... Wait here, I'll check with Mr Whitfoot if I can stay in the room tomorrow night.”

Unlike usual, Bilbo is unable to read your face when you come back to your conversation with Mr Whitfoot, the innkeeper of the Green Dragon. “The bad news is I can’t have the room, but the good news is because Gandalf reserved it,” you smile bitterly,  already regretting not going to the summer festivities with Bilbo.

“You can stay at Bag End. I have enough room for you,” he said with a little nervousness in his voice. You notice his embarrassment and you don’t want to impose yourself at his home. “I don't want to disturb you, I’ll think of it tonight and I’ll answer you tomorrow morning,” you explain with a smile. “You won’t disturb me at all, but alright, we’ll talk tomorrow,” he says, finally smiling again like usual.

Of course, you accept to stay at Bag End. The festivities, Gandalf, sleeping in Bag End, just next door to Bilbo’s, waking up together, eating breakfast together, like a married couple. Alright, let’s stop now!

Gandalf is still the same. You spend a part of the night chatting with him and Bilbo, with some other curious young hobbits. At some point, after eating and drinking too much, you both decide to go back to Bag End. The night was very fun – despite Lobelia intervention when she learned you were staying in Bag End. In Bilbo’s smial, you still can hear the laughs and the music from the Party Tree. “You’re sure I can stay here? Your cousin, Lobelia didn’t seem happy about it,” you joke as you’re taking off your shoes. “According to the latest news, Bag End is still my home,” he grumbles as you’re unable to hide your smile, enjoying his reactions every time you talk about Lobelia. “She can say whatever she wants, it’s my home!” He could have grumbled a long time if you hadn’t burst out laughing. “Alright. I get it,” he sighs before laughing with you. You both are tipsy and you continue to laugh until you reach your room.

“If you need anything, I'm just in the room next door,” he smiles as you enter the guest bedroom. If you weren’t as tired and as tipsy, you would have noticed the room has changed. The room is at your size. Both the ceiling and the furniture. “You know your home by heart. I could make tea with my eyes closed!” you laugh, not noticing Bilbo’s cheek becoming pink at your words. “But thank you for letting me sleep here. Nights are not cold, but I never say no to a bed when I can have one!” “You’re welcome. Don’t forget to wake up early if you want breakfast,” he says, smirking. You can’t count how many times you miss the first breakfast in the Shire.

Do you wake up late? Yes. Of course. The bed is so comfortable, the room is so quiet, the smell is so good… with a little touch of bread, tea, jam, egg,... You jump out of the bed and hurry up to the kitchen. Bilbo is smiling, “Good morning.” Has Bilbo been waiting for you? It’s the first time you have breakfast with him since the quest is over, and something feels different now. The table looks so perfect. How many times have you dream of waking up here like that? 

“Do you want tea?” he asks as he takes the kettle off the heat. “Good morning,” you murmur as you sit down on a chair at your size. As you’re half-asleep, you don’t notice you’re still in nightdress, light for summer nights, but Bilbo did. Oh, he did, and that’s why he shakes his head as he repeats his question. “Yes, absolutely!” you exclaim with a broad smile. “I never saw a table like that for breakfast! So many dishes! Bombur would be jealous of your cooking skills! I’m glad to be hungry! Everything looks so good! Can I try each plate?” you ask with great enthusiasm, perhaps a little too much. “Oh, sorry. I’m very loud for a morning. It’s rude and annoying…” Bilbo sits in front of you with two cups of tea. Despite your behaviour, he looks happy. The morning rays of light gently illuminate his hair and face. You could easily get used to this every morning...

“Not at all. I've had mornings noisier than this,” he smiles as he sips his tea. “And yes, you can eat everything you want.” “Don’t say that or I’ll really eat everything,” you laugh as you spread jam on your buttered toast. “I don't even have a third of this table in Bree, when I have breakfast. I mean, at home.” You still don’t use to live in Bree as your home.

“I can make breakfast like this whenever you want,” he says in a too serious tone for a morning as you’re savouring one of his cheeses. “I’d love to, but I don’t think I can stay another night. I have to go back to work,” you say, a little sad not to enjoy another night here, and another breakfast. A long silence makes you feel that something is wrong. Bilbo is too quiet for such a morning. You raise your head from your plate to see him looking at his tea, turning his spoon in his cup endlessly. “If you stayed here, you could have breakfast whenever you like,” he says quietly. You’re about to repeat your former answer, but Bilbo doesn’t give you the time to do it.

 “I wasn’t talking about tomorrow. I mean, yes, I’d love you to stay tomorrow, but I meant for all the mornings. I mean. Oh Yavanna, I’m ridiculous…” As he talks, he gets so upset that he gets to his feet and comes to stand in front of you, one fist clenched and the other hand pointing at you with his spoon. He breathes a last time before looking at you, his eyes eventually softening. “If you want to, I would love you to live in Bag End with me.”

You’re speechless first. Then, “I can’t. I mean, I’m of Men. No one wants somebody like me here,” you sigh as you look at your feet, feeling your tears welling up. “I want to,” Bilbo says, determined, as he takes your hands. “And I'm sure all the hobbits you know won't object. The whole Shire has realised a long time ago how I felt about you and they've all accepted you already.” “Your feelings?” you suddenly ask, your eyes searching for an answer in his eyes before his words. Yet, his eyes frown. “I wouldn't ask you to move to Bag End if I didn't love you. I'd even offer to make you a breakfast every morning, I don't know what more you need…”

At this point, you can't hold back your laughter. Before his upset face, you react quickly. Pulling on his hands, he steps towards you close enough to feel his fringe caress your forehead. “I need a morning kiss, and I’d stay here forever,” you murmur. His cheeks become redder than ever and his hands become sweaty, but when he decides eventually to kiss you, his lips are softer than you had imagined. Softer and sweeter.

Thorin

Tonight is the first night you spent with Men since Bree. Lack-town is still an unwelcome place for you and the company, but Bard and his family are very nice with you. With Sigrid’s help, you’re warm now and you don’t smell fish anymore. The children are already sleeping as some of the company. You don’t know how to thank Bard since you don’t have money like the others, so you offer your help in the house. After helping Sigrid with the dishes, you ask what you could do, and she explains they have some damaged clothes that need stitching and she has no idea how to do it.

So here you are, sitting in the corner of the table, in the light of a candle, mending some clothes. Everyone is busy with their own business when Thorin sits next to you. You first don’t notice him, focused on your task. He put a warm tea next to you before speaking. “Do you want to be my Queen?” he says, as serious as ever. No one reacts, pretending to be still busy. “Queen of what?” you chuckle, still focused on your task. “Queen of Erebor,” he answers after making sure that Bard was no longer there to listen in. You don’t notice how serious he is, all it takes for him to ask you that here, in front of the others. He is not the type of person who expresses his feelings in front of everyone, so you don’t take it seriously. “But there is no Erebor,” you say, not seeing how troubled he is with your answer. “Not now,” he continues after a long silence in which the crackling of the fire is the loudest sound. “But Erebor will be with us soon.”

A smile appears on your lips as you finish what you have planned before going to sleep. After you take the tea that Thorin gave you, you turn to him. Now you notice how serious he was, how sad his eyes are despite his calm behaviour. You take a moment to repeat the conversation in your head. He is about to stand up when you exclaim, “Wait, wait, wait!” You put your tea on the table, then raise your hands in front you.  “You want me as your Queen? Wait. But you. That what you said? But. I’m confused,” you heart is beating too fast to say a correct sentence. When Thorin sees that your hands are shaking, he hesitates to take them. “I know I’m good in organisation and papers, but that shouldn’t be a reason to title me as a Queen. Should you choose someone you love? I thought Dwarves only chose to spend their life with their One. Oh, maybe royalty doesn’t work like that.”

A laugh echoes in the room. Bofur gets Thorin's blackest look of his life. But for you, his eyes are sparkling and a smile eventually appears on his lips. A genuine smile. “That's correct. I want my One as my Queen,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Now your cheeks are burning and you stop breathing. Do you really properly understand what he is saying?

You try to say something, but your words are blocked in your throat. Staying with your mouth open makes the future king chuckling. At the end of the room, you hear two dwarves sneezing exaggeratedly, “Heiswaitingforananswer” then “Notinthreedays”. Fíli and Kíli earn the same look as Bofur, but you don’t see it. As you only realise everyone in the room is looking at you, you suddenly stand up. Understanding you, Thorin stands up too, takes your hand and leads you outside.

As it’s dark and late, no one would see you, but the most preoccupying thing is the cold. Before you say anything, Thorin puts his jacket on your shoulders. “Tell me if you’re cold,” he says seriously, but his jacket is so warm that you already forget about the weather. “Do you really mean it? Why do you think I’m your One?” you shyly ask as you close the too big jacket on yourself, taking advantage to hide your burning cheeks. When you look back to him, you’re surprised to discover a new facet of Thorin. An (cute) embarrassed Thorin is in front of you. “Mahal, how should I tell you?” he begins as he runs a hand on his face, stopping on his mouth. “I know you're my One because I love you. And this is why I want you to be my Queen.” He swallows his saliva with difficulty, waiting for an answer from you that doesn't seem to be coming. “But maybe my feelings for you are not mutual, and if I offend you in any way, I apologise,” he says as his eyes sadden gradually. 

“No!” you eventually cry out as you grab his hands, surprisingly warm. You already touch them a few times, but never like that. “It’s mutual. Your feelings. I mean my feelings,” you sigh, trying to compose yourself. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this in this Men’s town when we’re almost at Erebor, but–” He cuts you off, “I don’t want you to stay here with your kin. I saw how you look at the town and… that man.” You frown, firstly because he stopped you while you were talking, secondly because he doesn’t trust you. “What man?” “The one who lets us stay in his house,” he grumbles.

“If you let me talk, Thorin Oakenshield, you would know that I love you too, since the first time I saw you! About Lake-town, I know nobody here. They are not my kin. The company is my family now!” you hurry to say before the conversation takes a bad turn. You truly love him from the start, but you obviously never hoped for anything. “Are you sure I’m your One?” you ask again, making him eventually smile. He realises one of your hands to run his in your hair. “I've never been so sure of anything,” he tenderly says. As he looks for a place for a braid, you can’t remain motionless. A step is enough to access his lips and you take that step. At the beginning, you feel Thorin’s surprise, but it quickly progresses into a sweet, lovely kiss under a snowy night.

[i23kazu]

♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?

diluc

possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.

kaeya

the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.

childe

he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.

wriothesley

wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).

lyney

the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.

alhaitham

alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

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[reallyromealone]

Title: hazbin security

Fandom: hazbin hotel

Characters: hazbin hotel ensemble, male reader

Fic type: story - romance

Pairings: angel dust x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, rape themes, reader is a giant, reader is a sweetheart, mentions of nsfw, adult language, mention of kinks, hurt to comfort

Notes: bing bong

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

The hotel went quiet as a hulking demon stepped in, having to crouch under he door to enter "uhh, hi?" Charlie said putting on a friendly smile as the 13 foot tall demon stared at her quietly and held up a paper advertisement along with a resume "oh! You're here for the security position!" She said excitedly as the massive demon nodded, everyone too unnerved by his hulking presence to even begin to think about anything else.

Charlie and Alastor went to the back with him, husk looking at angel dust with raised eyebrows as the door closed "holy shit!" Husk said to his close friend who's sipped his martini, nodding "he's a fuckin' giant, seriously! He could crush us!" The spider demon said almost awe struck as he barely hit the demons chest, angel knew he was probably hung like hell... Something he could feel in his stomach.

Charlie busted in "everyone meet our newest security! (Name)!" Charlie introduced the silent demon as the others awkwardly waved to no response as (name) nodded softly, a passive expression on his face.

And that's how it was, everyone went about their days as (name) despite his size lurked quietly in the shadows out of view but angel always kept a keen eye on him, he stressed him out... Reminded him of the people val made him sleep with.

Especially since (name) always glanced at him, like he was suspicious of him... Angel hated it.

"Give me the word, I'll handle him" husk would back up angel dust and the spider demon smiled at his best friend "thanks husky" he smiled, happy he found a genuine friend in the bartender as (name) threw out some crackhead who pissed on the carpet in defiance.

It was late as Angel dust walked to the hotel, exhausted and drained as his heels clicked against the pavement, today was shit and he just wanted to go home...

"Excuse me?" A gravelly voice called as the spider turned to see an imp with an intense glare "you're... You're Angel dust right? I saw your work..." They said seriously and angel felt his hair stand on edge as he looked at the other "what's it to ya?" Angel hissed out as the imp stepped closer and angel stepped back "I really... Admire your work... You look amazing on the big screen though... It pales to the real deal" they said heatedly as Angel felt he needed to get away and fast "no you don't!" The imp hissed out as he grabbed angel dust and pinned him to the ground "I wanna see if you're like how you are on the big screen!" The imp said maniacally as he tore at angels shirt.

Angel felt tears well up in his eyes, fuck he didn't want this to go how it did...

No!

Shit!

"Show me your cute-- holy shit!" The imp was lifted as angel shook, looking at his savior and was surprised when he saw (name) throw the imp like a ragdoll before lifting angel into his arm, the spider secured snuggly in his bicep as he went back to the hotel without a word. Angel was shaking as he just let (name) take him wherever, he didn't care anymore... He just wanted this night to be over.

(Name) Put his sweater over the other, nights in hell we're ice cold and (name) seemed genuinely worried as he took the scared demon back to the hotel. (Name) Didn't speak a word as angel looked up at him fearfully as he processed what happened.

The lobby and the hotel was pretty empty as it was late as everyone was either at home or in their respective rooms, the massive demon just clicking the elevator button as he glanced down at the other before looking forward.

"Wait this isn't..." Oh god, angel panicked as they passed his room and He felt his fears confirmed as they went to (name)s room and he was plopped on the bed unceremoniously, closing his eyes and expecting the worst until a t-shirt handed to him and the white haired demon watched as (name) turned around, Angel realized he gave him one of his massive shirts that fit like a dress. He hid the smile on his face at the fact the massive demon wanted to respect his privacy even though every part of angel had been broadcasted across hell.

But it felt nice... Being respected.

Angel felt awkward as he spoke softly "I'm uh, I'm finished changing big boy" he hoped it wasn't some kink, a lot of demons loved seeing angel in their clothes and fucking like that but was more surprised when (Name) Left the room as angel processed what happened and was elated to see the massive demon gold a tiny piggy in his hand, setting him in angels lap "nuggie!" Angel smiled as (name) sat on the ground, even sitting he held perfect eye contact "thanks... Why did you help me?" Angel didn't get it, no one ever did anything in hell without wanting something in return and (name) tilted his head "why wouldn't I?"

"So do you wanna fuck as a thank you?" Angel asked bluntly and (name) just stared at him "no"

"Then why would you help me if you didn't want to fuck?!"

"You deserve to be treated with respect, i wasn't going to allow such scum to treat you with anything less" the demon grunted, angel realizing that this was the first conversation be ever had with the other, the demons voice soothing to his ears. "you aren't as intimidating as I thought" angel said genuinely as he slid down beside (name), smiling up at him "I intimidated you?" (Name) Seemed genuinely confused and angel cackled "we all were! You're a massive demon who never talks!" (Name) Looked down at his own body and seemed to be in thought "that must be why people run..."

Angel let out a genuine laugh and kissed the others cheek "you ain't intimidating at all anymore to me!" He teased and (name) seemed flustered a bit at the others actions "nuggie seems to like ya" angel said as the tiny piggy crawled into (name)s lap and promptly fell asleep, normally he stuck to angel and angel alone.

"I just admit I have been feeding him little treats, my apologies" (name) seemed embarrassed as angel felt his heart melt a bit, not only was this giant so sweet to him but his pet!

(Name) Let angel sleep in his bed, the demon trying to set up shop on the floor when angel practically forced him on the bed "it's big enough for both of us!" And angel didn't want to sleep alone, the night shaking him up as he snuggled into (name)s side.

Waking up, angel was being held like glass as (name) cuddled him close to his chest as If he were the most precious thing in the world.

Angel didn't want to move, the domestically sweet energy making him feel emotions he wasn't used to.

And god was (name)s chest the most comfortable thing ever, practically smothered by the large pectoral muscles and his massive arms keeping him secure.

Maybe he could close his eyes and enjoy this a little longer...

When (name) woke he gently tucked the spider in as he got out of bed, grabbing a sweater for the other and a pair of boxers for him to wear as he wasn't sure if Angel wanted to wear sleep clothes when he woke...

What he didn't know was angel woke and stared at him curious as the massive demon out together some clothes for him, already dressed for the day and a goody smile played on his face.

He was gonna fuck this demon.

But romantically.

Angel stuck to (name) all day, the bigger demon letting him sit on his shoulder as he went about his day, angel dust talking away as the other listened carefully.

Eventually (name) needed to attend to things as he set angel carefully at the bar and walked off to do whatever it was charlie and Alastor needed him to do.

"So like, you fucking the big guy?" Husk asked bluntly and Angel dust explained what happened, the massive demon being nothing short of a gentleman to the lustful demon "he's only touched me to give me clothes or if I initiated it!" Angel was confused, usually people touch him first and without asking but (name) always looked at him for assurance before doing anything to the white spider, it was nice.

He felt special.

"You deserve someone nice like that, he's always watchin' ya, at first I thought he was glaring but now I think he was worried for ya" it was true, (name) always kept an eye on angel dust and the spider thought (name) was suspicious of him but...

Angel returned to the security demons room that night and (name) looks like a surprised puppy as he let the other in, angel looking up at him expectantly "I wanna fuck you but romantically" angel said simply and (name) tilted his head "you know you don't need to fuck me to be with me" he said simply and angel looked suspicious at him "what? You into cucking?"

(Name) Just lifted the spider and set him in his lap, absolutely tiny comparatively as he turned on the tv and pulled the blanket over them, kissing angel dusts forehead sweetly. Though their relationship seemed a bit rushed, angel couldn't help the goofy smile on his face as he snuggled into (name)s chest, the larger demon kissing his head softly.

Yeah...

He could get used to this.

[lzaisv]

WRIOTHESLEY . NIGHT SHIFT

sypnosis; being clumsy isn't easy. doing a poor performance due to how you lack skill at work only leads to you earning less credit coupons, which is a result of your week only having one day off. wriothesley, who adores you so much, offers to help you earn credit coupons.

afab!reader

NSFW UNDER THE CUT ; MINORS DNI !

Wriothesley who adores you so much.

Ever since he first saw you in the infirmary, sitting all alone and a bruise on your wrist, you caught his attention right away.

He thought that Sigewinne might've been getting supplies for your wound, and you seemed rather lonely so he approached you and asked about your wound.

When he talked to you, it came to his surprise that your clumsiness got you accidentally tripping and your wrist hit on one of those super sharp areas of a nearby pipe. You explained to him how you couldn't really earn credit coupons that well since you were not used to this environment, and you told him how you were basically really clumsy, too, you were really nervous talking to him back then since you've heard a lot about how he was a cold and mysterious man, but somehow, he managed to change the way you perceive him. 

Now, you saw him as a caring man that had a strong sense of responsibility, welcoming rather, too. He radiated an aura that let you feel safe and comforted by him. The light jokes and sarcasm he had made you feel better.

Since that day from the infirmary, Wriothesley notes to himself about your schedule and he always tries to be there to see you. Initiating small talk that allowed you two to be closer. And everyday, he would see you working hard on your task, only skipping work at least once every week. So when Wriothesley figured out that you struggled earning credit coupons, he proposed a way to let you earn more coupons. He suggested that you could help him out with something in his office, and you'd earn credit coupons in return. 

You were honestly tired from working almost everyday a week, so you agreed. You needed those credit coupons.

So the following day, you went to his office at the exact time he instructed you to come. It was rather late at night, and most of the inmates were asleep already. You thought the task he had stored for you was things he doesn't have time for like cleaning his office, organizing paperworks neatly, just those stuff.

But you were wrong.

Somehow, you're here with your chest facing down on his desk, your hands handcuffed behind you, a mirror infront of you, and your pussy being wrecked from behind by his grace.

“ah ─! shit.. tighter than expected.” wriothesley groaned from behind, his cock slowly entering your intimate area, your eyes shutting tight from the stinging pain of him slowly entering you. He was hung, after all. He only entered half of his length inside you, but you couldn't help but tear up. “it hurts, your grace.” you whimpered, you don't know how much you could take, he wasn't even fully inside yet. 

“i'm sure you could take it all, fuuuuck, your pretty pussy's clenching down on me.” he scoffed, his hands placed down on your waist, tracing your curves with his thumb. “It's like it doesn't wanna let go of me.” Wriothesley had a sly grin on his face, trying to keep his cool and not just enter you in one go. He was trying his best not to lose his self control. 

But once he's fully entered you, now this is a whole different level.

Once he was fully inside you, wriothesley seriously could not stop himself anymore. “'m sorry, princess. I'll give you extra coupons for this.” he warned you, and that got you confused, “h-huh? Wha ─!” your eyes widened, a gasp coming out of your mouth as he started ramming his cock inside your cunt with no stopping. He moved quickly, and still managed to reach the deepest parts of your area that you never thought would be possible to reach.

Your head fell on his desk, tears forming from your lower lash line, and your fists clenching as you tried to protest, but you couldn't. Only whines and moans came out of your mouth, and you were going dumb so fast. 

“fucking─ ngh, gorgeous.” he mumbled in between his low moans. He just adored you. Ever since you stepped foot in the fortress of meropide, that was the first time he was thankful a person even committed a crime. He couldn't stop looking at you, visiting the cafeteria almost everyday just to sit right next to you and ask you about your day. He loved listening to you ramble on about your day, and whenever you mentioned how tiring the jobs were, he would speak with the guards who were there to supervise you with your task to lessen the work for you so you wouldn't have to be so worn out everyday. 

These little gestures of affection were his way of saying he wanted you. And to have you here on his desk, all being fucked dumb, he couldn't be even more thankful to the archons above.

“you don't know how long I fucking waited for this.” he whispered in your ear, yet his sharp thrusts where uninterrupted. Although, he was aware you couldn't even think as of now and just went dumb on him so easily. “going dumb already on me, angel? How cute.” he praised you, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

“'m gonna ─! 'm gonna cum, wrio ─ !!” a high pitched moan came out of you from your nonsense babbles and whimpers. Pleasure was overtaking your brain, all your senses going stupid. 

“hnghhh, go on, milk my cock.” he insisted, his movement becoming sloppier, and he could tell that he himself was close too. He was aware he shouldn't cum inside you, with the possibility of even knocking you up, he could ruin your life. 

“inside, please.” you whined at him, turning your head back on him, drowsy eyes looking at him, begging for him to cum inside you, and who was he to refuse such an offer? That was enough to push him to the edge, and after one last thrust, he spilled his load inside you as you orgasmed, filling you up to the brim, causing your eyes to roll back to your skull.

Immense pleasure washed on your brain, seeing stars, and it felt like a warm embrace, enveloping you with a sense of contentment.

Wriothesley pulled out after cumming inside you, seeing his cum overflow from your sweet pussy, he couldn't help but use his fingers to stop his load from coming out of you, he just adored you. 

“aren't you just the cutest? as promised, I'll give you 5,000 credit coupons for this.”

© lzaisv . do not copy/steal, translate, modify my work.