#he DOES look very handsome in these gifs though his brows are SO done | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungkwansphd · 2 years ago

Text

fixer upper

pairing: minghao x reader wordcount: 9.5k summary: you love your friends dearly, but do they really think that they can match make for their resident matchmaker? minghao’s certainly interesting, though, so maybe you can fix him up with someone else instead. genre/themes: s2f2l. “beg�� minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate), lol. set in the ‘we get along infamously’ universe.

a/n: i have nothing to say for myself regarding the length of this.

You tapped the bartop impatiently as you waited for your blind date to show up. You couldn’t believe that Danbi had roped you into this, but you had lost the game of darts fair and square. As a result, you were here waiting for a man named Minghao to show up. Part of you really wanted to skip out on this, because you just did not trust Danbi’s romantic sensibilities. She had dated a string of truly boring and strange people for months before you had finally set her up with Seungcheol. There was no way this Minghao was going to be anywhere near suited for you, but you were a person of your word, so you would do the date and be done with it.

“Hey, are you YN?” a voice called from above your left shoulder. You turned your head to see a tall, lanky individual with dark hair looking curiously at you.

“Yes, are you Minghao?” you sat up straight, fixing him with a smile. He wasn’t your usual type, physically, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome.

“Yes, nice to meet you,” he smiled, taking the barstool next to you.

“So how do you know Danbi?” you asked after he had ordered with the bartender.

“Ah, so,” Minghao looked almost sheepish, “I helped Jeonghan get together with the person he’s dating now. One of my close friends! And so I met Seungcheol and Danbi through Jeonghan.”

“Oh?” you calculated the degrees of separation quickly in your mind. “So you don’t really know Danbi at all, then!”

“Not well,” Minghao shook his head. “I was kind of surprised when Jeonghan told me that she wanted to set me up on a date.”

“I-,” you laughed, somehow relieved to find out that this hadn’t been any serious effort on your friend’s part. “Honestly, thank god! No offense to you, I obviously don’t know you, but Danbi historically has not impressed me with her taste in men.”

“No offense taken,” Minghao chuckled, bringing his cocktail to his lips for a quick sip. “So does that mean you’re the resident matchmaker in your friend group as well?”

“Very much so,” you nodded, “So I’m not sure exactly what Danbi thinks she’s up to, trying to take my title. In fact, I bet even I could set you up with someone better! And I don’t even know you at all!” you blustered.

“Oh really?” Minghao’s eyebrow raised. You were funny.

“What, you don’t believe me?” you furrowed your brows at him.

“I mean, no one is a better matchmaker than me, so my bar is pretty high,” he replied smugly. “I’ve only ever had one couple break up, and it was due to one of their jobs making them move away.”

“Out of how many?” you found yourself curious.

“...Eight?” Minghao had to tally in his mind quickly.

“Hah! That’s nothing!” you waved him off easily, “I’ve successfully set up eleven couples and none of them have broken up yet!”

Minghao smiled, amused by your bright and confident energy. While you clearly weren’t suited for him, he found himself wanting to beat you at your own game.

“Set me up then,” he invited confidently. “But I bet I can find you a match sooner than you can find one for me.”

“Oh?” you grinned at his gamelike proposal. Before you even knew it, the words came out of your mouth, “You’re on!”

Minghao laughed, shaking your hand enthusiastically. You spent the rest of your “date” exchanging phone numbers and excitedly reviewing each other’s basic likes and dislikes. Minghao wasn’t your type, but he certainly was interesting! He worked in HR for a tech company, had interests in art and fashion, and also had trained in mixed martial arts as a child? Quite a strange array of hobbies, but you were so going to win this thing!

…

“So, how did it go?” Minghao’s voice sounded slightly tinny through your headphones.

“Not good,” you were almost excited to report on how badly the date had gone. “I would rate your matchmaking skills like a 4 out of 10 right now!”

“Excuse me?” Minghao stopped in his tracks. Surely he had misheard you.

“Four. Out of ten.” you repeated yourself, grinning at the way you could tell he was surprised by your feedback.

“No, that can’t be right.”

“Allow me to elaborate,” you pressed on as you decided to take the long way home so you could regale Minghao with every last detail of why your date with Wonwoo had not been stellar. “First…could you have found someone more quiet or disinterested to have set me up with? You’d think I was trying to pull his teeth out!”

Minghao squeezed his eyes together. He and Wonwoo had built up their rapport over many years and he’d somehow forgotten just how tight-lipped his friend could be when meeting someone new.

“Also his only hobby seems to be gaming? I don’t know anything about that nor do I have an interest,” you continued. “Ah, it’s so nice out!” you commented as an aside while you pulled a pink bloom to your nose to inhale.

“Oh are you outside?” Minghao couldn’t help but ask.

“Yep, I’m walking home!” you nodded, “Oh I’m glad I took the long way! I forgot how much I like this park.”

“It is a nice day out,” Minghao looked out the glass panes of his office. He was painfully close to the end of his day and truth be told, he was excited to run out the clock with you on the phone. “So anyways, where are my four points coming from, because I haven’t heard anything positive yet.”

“Oh, well, I mean. I’m going to chalk that up to Wonwoo’s looks, really. He’s unbelievably handsome. Almost too handsome!” you threw your hands up in the air, drawing a few odd looks from other pedestrians.

Minghao laughed. It was true, Wonwoo was probably his most conventionally attractive friend, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear you say it too.

“Okay, so then…very cold on the personality traits, but very hot on the physical features. I can work off of that,” Minghao nodded, scanning through his mental roster of friends. Luckily, Wonwoo was probably the most introverted of them all, so it could only go upwards from here.

“Yep. Oh which! I have a candidate for you,” you clapped excitedly as you waited for the crosswalk to turn green. “My friend Yena!”

Minghao nodded contemplatively as you rattled off the list of compatible points that you saw for him and this Yena. He had his doubts, but he put your proposed date and time in his calendar. A deal was a deal.

“Okay, I’m almost home, so I’m going to hang up now! I’ll text Yena to confirm! Eee, I’m excited to hear what you think!”

“Okay, bye,” Minghao laughed, glancing at the clock again. It was officially quitting time, so he packed up his bag and headed out of the office. You’d been right, it was a beautiful day out, so he decided to switch up his commute as well. As he walked, he found himself wondering which park you had passed through on your way home.

…

[yn]: ‘sooooooo…………yena?!?!???!’

[minghao]: ‘6/10’

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. Six out of ten?!

[yn]: ‘BE SO FUCKIN FR RIGHT NOW’

[minghao]: ‘no, I actually really liked her, but she said she doesn’t eat chinese food?! i can’t live like that’

What? Surely you had eaten Chinese food with Yena before, right? You racked your brain, but unfortunately came up empty handed. You had to admit, that was a big blind spot on your part.

[yn]: ‘.........i guess that has never come up before. my bad! i know that’s important to you’

[yn]: ‘i’m still up 2 tho! 6 against your 4.’

Minghao threw his head back to laugh. You were so competitive.

[yn]: ‘ok feedback on other qualities tho! plz & thank u’

Minghao waited, an amused smile on his lips, for your three dots to vanish before providing your requested feedback. As he had said, overall he had quite enjoyed meeting Yena. She had been a little quiet and shy at first, but had opened up quite a bit as the date went on. They shared an interest in art and had had quite a nice discussion before she revealed that she did not like Chinese food. Normally an aversion to specific food wouldn’t bother Minghao so much, but after moving, it was important for him to continue to engage with his culture and food was a major way in which he did that.

[yn]: ‘ok, got it, got it. that makes perfect sense’

A soft smile settled on his lips. Minghao was glad that you weren’t taking too much offense to his negative feedback. Part of him was glad that the date hadn’t gone that well and he was sure that it was just his competitive nature. It would have been humiliating for him if you had actually found him someone perfect on the first try.

[minghao]: ‘what are your plans for the weekend?’

[yn]: ‘theres a textile and apparel exhibit opening at the folk art museum that i wanted to check out’

[minghao]: ‘oh?? i was planning to go too! when are you going?’

You cocked your head curiously at your phone. That was weird. But you realized it would be very helpful to observe Minghao in the wild so as to do a better job choosing prospective dates for him. Then you could review your roster of candidates for him after the museum, so it could be a productive time! With a fluttery feeling in your chest, for whatever reason, you chose a meeting time to visit the museum with Minghao. Together.

…

You tapped your fisted hands against your hips as you scanned the crowds for Minghao. It had been a few weeks since you had first met him in person and you had an unreasonable worry that you’d forgotten what his face looked like. Glancing at your watch, you wondered if you had gotten the time wrong.

“YN!” a clear voice caught your attention.

“Ah, there you are!” your face cracked into a smile up at Minghao. “Ok, I’m glad I decided to dress up!” you exhaled with relief after taking in his outfit. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was interested in fashion.

“This outfit is very cool,” he nodded approvingly, eyes raking over you. An unreasonable warmth spread across you at his assessment. You had spent longer than usual picking and re-picking necklaces to match the hardware on your boots. It was nice to see that it was appreciated.

“Thank you!” you beamed up at him, eyes creasing into semi-circles. “Now let’s go!” you gestured forcefully at the museum entrance.

“Okay, okay,” Minghao chuckled goodnaturedly, allowing you to lead the way.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, hands fisted in excitement as you peered closely at the thread and beadwork on a contemporary bobbin lace exhibit. “Unreal.”

Minghao had to do a double take. Your mouth had fallen slightly open, enthralled, as you took in the detail and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You looked like a cartoon frog.

“You’ll catch a fly like that,” he teased, slipping two fingertips under your chin to snap your mouth shut.

You narrowed your eyes at him. If you’d learned one thing today, it was that Minghao was quite prone to teasing. It was a good thing that you had agreed to this museum trip after all, because otherwise your list of next candidates would’ve been wildly out of order.

“Do you want to see the other exhibits too? Or are you only interested in fiber arts?” Minghao asked, looking up from the museum layout map.

“No, I’m interested in all mediums!” you nodded at him. “I just think textile arts have been woefully excluded from the mainstream art world because, you know, misogyny,” you rolled your eyes theatrically at him as you followed his lead. “So I am particularly interested when museums put together exhibits like that!”

Minghao’s lips pinched slightly in amusement. He agreed with you, of course, but he found your animated enthusiasm in high contrast to the serious backdrop of the museum hall. He led the way to one of his favorite areas and you two passed the rest of the afternoon walking through the displays in contemplative quiet.

“I’m hungry,” you frowned as you left the museum.

“Me too,” Minghao grabbed at his midsection. “Let’s go find something to eat!”

“There’s a Chinese restaurant around here that I like! Let’s go there!” you suggested. Minghao nodded furiously, stomach grumbling insistently at him.

…

You glanced at your date out of the side of your eye as you wondered how rude it might be to just leave. While Joshua was certainly your physical type, all arms and chest, you quickly found out that the contents of his brain were just not for you. You weren’t religious at all and if he broke out into song, singing ‘Sunday Morning’ at or near you one more time, you might actually run away.

After going through the motions of saying goodbye, you pulled your phone out to dial Minghao as soon as you started walking home.

“Hello?” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.

“I need to understand your thought process with this one,” you shook your head in disbelief.

“Huh?” Minghao rubbed his eyes, pulling his phone away to check who had called. “Oh, hey! Sorry I just woke up.”

“Oh, did I wake you up?” you paused, “Shit, sorry! You didn’t have to answer me!”

“I didn’t know it was you! I also hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” Minghao chuckled and you heard some rustling of sheets in the background. “Sorry, what did you ask me again?”

“I need to know why you set me up with Joshua,” you frowned. “Do I give off a vibe that he’s my type?”

“Is he not?” Minghao wondered, “He’s more outgoing than Wonwoo, still handsome, and family oriented.”

“Okay, those things are true, but he’s also super religious, which I’m not. And I do not like to be sung at in public…or at all, I don’t think.”

“No, please,” Minghao started laughing, “Did he? I didn’t think he’d bring that out on a first date!” Minghao couldn’t stop laughing, practically kicking his feet in delight at the absurdity of it.

“Yeah, several times, in fact,” you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you so difficult to match for?” Minghao found himself asking. He was partially teasing, but also somewhat serious. People generally threw themselves at both Wonwoo and Joshua, so to hear you be so turned off by them was surprising and confusing.

“I’m not difficult! I think my expectations are more than reasonable,” you nodded firmly to yourself.

“Okay, elaborate on these expectations, please, because I’m clearly missing the mark.”

“Hm, well, okay. Someone funny and intelligent with a wide variety of interests or knowledge. Someone who would challenge me in ways that make me grow. Someone who also can understand that I should have my own endeavors and activities without feeling insecure. I dunno, someone who just gets me!”

“Very reasonable,” Minghao’s flat voice came back across the phone.

“It is reasonable!” you stamped your foot. You felt like he was teasing you again, but it was hard to tell over the phone.

“No, that’s helpful!” he clarified.

“Why are you asleep at 8pm anyways, you old man?” you suddenly remembered.

“Ugh, it was a long day,” he groaned into your ear, “I had to get to work early to prepare onboarding materials for new hires and then when I got home, I just passed out I guess.”

“Ah, well, do you want me to let you go? You should go back to sleep and catch up on yesterday.”

“No, I’m up now,” Minghao shook his head, reluctant to end the phone call. “Tell me about the restaurant, was the food at least good?”

You smiled, happy to stay on the line with him. The food had indeed been good and you described your meal and cocktails to him in vivid detail. You were now in your second month of knowing Minghao and your relationship had evolved into a tentatively comfortable friendship. Between all of the set up activities, you’d actually gotten to know him a bit and grown used to discussing and sharing other aspects of your lives. Minghao was definitely an introvert, but he was well balanced with an energy and enthusiasm that ensured you were never bored.

…

“Wait, I’m confused. You told me that the date with Minghao didn’t go well, but you’ve stayed in touch with him?” Danbi’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“What are you confused about? That’s exactly right,” you returned her confused look.

“Why would you stay in touch with someone you don’t like?”

“I never said I didn’t like him!” you shook your head, confused at her statement.

“You liked him, but the date didn’t go well? Why wouldn’t the date go well if you like him?”

“I can like him as a friend and not want to date him!”

Danbi narrowed her eyes at you. She didn’t think you were that petty, but it was almost as if you were purposefully maintaining a distance between yourself and Minghao just to spite her.

“So what do you two talk about?” she was curious.

“We’ve been setting each other up on dates! Supposedly he’s the friend group matchmaker, like me, but he’s pretty bad at it,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “But we talk about other things too! He likes art and fashion. We went to the textile exhibit opening a few weeks ago.”

Danbi shook her head; she was lost. Wasn’t that just a date? Luckily she knew you better than to prod too much further.

“Well that’s good! It’s always nice to make a new friend,” she smiled at you, “He should come to Soonyoung’s housewarming party next week!”

“Should he?”

“Yeah, of course! Jeonghan will be there and I think he invited a few of his coworkers too so see if Minghao wants to come!”

“Ah, I guess so,” you nodded, somehow nervous, “I’ll ask, but no promises.”

“Sure!” Danbi laughed, “Now let me show you some pictures of Doyun with Jeonghan and his new partner! Who you also have to meet!”

You giggled happily as Danbi flipped through her photos. Doyun had always looked more like Seungcheol as a baby, but now that he was getting older, he was taking on more and more of your friend’s features.

“Ah, he looks so much like you there! Ahhhh!” you shook your fists excitedly.

“He does look more like me recently, doesn’t he?” she beamed proudly at you.

For all the headache you had posed to her with this Minghao situation, she did love you and was grateful towards you for gently nudging her towards Seungcheol many years ago. You were very astute at reading others and as a result, she now had a wonderful husband and son. It had always interested and amused her that your insightfulness didn’t quite extend to yourself.

…

“Eeeee!” you and Soonyoung clapped your hands together excitedly after you’d sunk another ping pong ball into a plastic cup.

“Just perfect! Look at that technique! You duds don’t stand a chance!” he crowed, jeering at Seungcheol and Seokmin excitedly.

Danbi giggled excitedly at her husband’s rotten luck, to which Seungcheol pouted.

“Ya! Who are you even cheering for?!” he shouted playfully, leveling an accusing finger at his wife, inspiring another round of giggles.

“Me, of course! I can find her another husband, she can’t find another me!” you laughed, jumping up and down in delight at the way that Seungcheol fumed.

“You’re dead!” he furrowed his brows at you, “You’re so dead!” He made a show of stretching his neck and shoulders before taking his next shot at beer pong.

“Hah!” you shouted and shook Hoshi excitedly, collapsing into a puddle of laughter as Seungcheol’s ball ricocheted dramatically off of the rim and bounced anticlimactically across the ground. “Oh no, oh Cheol please I’m crying!” you hiccuped, wiping your eyes.

Minghao had slipped in quietly while you were taunting Seungcheol and he was shocked at the way you did it so loudly and unapologetically. He didn’t know Seungcheol quite that well yet, but he had been under the impression that he probably shouldn’t be messed with too much. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth before he moved away to grab a beverage.

“You made it!” Danbi appeared at his side while he popped the cap off of a beer.

“Hi Danbi,” Hao smiled kindly at her. He had met Danbi through Jeonghan a while ago and for whatever reason, she had really taken a shine to him.

“Did you find the place alright?”

“Yes, YN’s instructions were very easy to follow.”

“Great! Let me know if there’s anyone here that you haven’t met yet, but I think you may know them all!”

Minghao nodded. Looking around the room, it did seem like he knew most of the attendees. Jeonghan and his girlfriend were flanked by a few of their other coworkers. By some miracle Seokmin and Seungcheol had both managed to find babysitters tonight, and so were able to attend with their wives, Hana and Danbi. Joshua was on another date, after he and YN had not managed to hit things off, so Jeonghan’s friend group was short just one of the usual count.

“Ha! Ha! Ha!” you laughed with Hoshi after winning yet another game of beer pong. You and he had been nearly undefeatable since college and it was nice to see that this hadn’t changed, even after he had moved away for a few years. “Oh pink?” you wondered aloud when you spotted Minghao chatting with Jeonghan over a beer.

“You’re here!” you interrupted their conversation easily, fingers itching to touch his pink hair. “Is this a fade out color?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “The murder scene every time I showered was starting to get old.”

“I can’t believe your hair hasn’t just fallen straight out of your head,” Jeonghan’s girlfriend shook her head with a laugh.

“Hah!” you laughed heartily, struggling to imagine Minghao bald.

“I’d love it if you didn’t curse me with this foul energy,” he rolled his eyes at all of you.

“Did you all see how I swept the floor with Seungcheol? Again?” you crowed excitedly to Jeonghan.

“Yes, yes, very good,” Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you. You were always such a braggart about pong.

“I can’t believe he lets you tease him like that,” Minghao gestured to Seungcheol incredulously.

“Ah, I’m a lovable scamp!” you shrugged, sticking your tongue out at your newest friend.

“That’s true,” Hao laughed, a soft smile crossing his face.

Jeonghan and his girlfriend both looked at Minghao with interest while your attention was pulled elsewhere. Danbi and Hana summoned you from across the room so you gave everyone a small wave before you left.

“So-,” Jeonghan opened his mouth to dig, but his girlfriend stopped him with a quick shake of her head. She knew Minghao would not respond to anything that direct, so it was best to meddle gently.

“What is it?” you asked once you were close enough to Danbi and Hana for them to hear you.

“We were wondering if Minghao had set you up on a successful date yet?” Hana asked, “If not, I actually met this kind of cool guy at the school yesterday.”

“Oh, no, not yet. I actually need to follow up with him on that,” you shook your head.

“Follow up? You’re being so project manager-y about this,” Hana laughed.

“I mean…it is a project that I’m managing,” you flushed, already knowing that you would say no to Hana’s proposed guy.

“Well, what do you think? He came to service the computers, so he works in IT. He’s tall, pretty broad, and has a very nice smile.”

“What’s his personality like?” you queried. It didn’t make any sense at all, but for whatever reason you felt guilty of the idea of being set by someone other than Minghao.

“I didn’t get to talk to him too much, but he seemed nice! He volunteers at an animal shelter.”

“Aww,” Danbi cooed excitedly.

“You’re going to make fun of me for saying this, but I don’t think I care,” you inhaled deeply before rejecting Danbi’s proposal. “It feels weird to think about going on a date with someone that Minghao doesn’t pick for me. So I kind of want to see how things play out with that?”

“I’m not going to make fun of you!” Danbi looked at you indignantly.

“I am!” Hana made a face at you, “You are so attached to him, like come on YN!” she gestured forcefully at you.

“Of course I’m attached to him, we’re friends!” you shrugged. “I’m attached to you doofuses too,” you gestured back with your palms up. Hana and Danbi laughed. Your love language was, indeed, teasing and they’d grown used to it long ago. You were watching them whisper to each other suspiciously before Danbi jutted her chin out, pointing at something behind you.

“Oh, JESUS!” you jumped after realizing Minghao was standing behind you. “Snuck up on me, fuckin’ hell,” you mumbled curses as you put a few paces between him and yourself.

“Let’s go play beer pong. Apparently you’re unstoppable and I need to witness this for myself,” he smirked, giving you a disbelieving once over.

“Don’t…,” you found yourself shivering under his gaze, “Look at me like that! I will win,” you let yourself think that you had recovered smoothly.

With each ball that Minghao sank into your cups, you stood up just a little straighter and your expression grew just a little more baffled. You’d never been in such a closely matched game of pong before and, honestly, you didn’t care for it.

“Hey, let’s make this more interesting,” Minghao spoke up when you were each down to one cup. You raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to proceed with his idea. “If I win, I take you out on a date.”

“I-,” you choked, heart clogging your throat momentarily. “What?”

“For research purposes,” he clarified, triple checking his foot placement as he squared up his aim. “You can give me feedback and that’ll help me better tailor my matches for you in the future.” He launched the ball into the air and it sailed into your final cup easily.

“I-, wait,” you stuttered, partially in disbelief over your loss and partially for a reason that you weren’t able to identify yet. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could accept it.

“What, are you scared?” Minghao stepped towards you. He felt a perverse joy in the way you were reacting to his win. Something about seeing you flounder tickled his brain very specifically.

“You lost fair and square!” Soonyoung waved you off to make room for the next players.

“What exactly would I be scared of?” you blustered as Minghao herded you away from the table. “A date with you?”

“Scared you’ll like it,” he laughed, peering down at you, stepping into your personal space just slightly.

“Hah!” you let out a honking laugh. That was absurd, right? “Fine, take me out on our little date. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of feedback.”

“Great,” he grinned at you, patting you on the head condescendingly.

You were baffled. You could tell you were blushing and you weren’t really sure if you could just blame it on the beer pong loss. You snuck a glance at Minghao, whose attention was back on the party, watching Soonyoung trounce Seokmin quite soundly. He was right, you were terrified for this date.

…

“Ugh you look so cute!” Hana squealed excitedly, “It’s such a shame it’s just for a practice run!”

You chuckled. Sure, it was true that this date with Minghao was just for research purposes, but it hadn’t stopped you from thinking of it as if it were real.

‘wear a dress or skirt. something short or unrestricted at the bottom and shoes you can move in’ was all of the instruction that Minghao had given you.

“Maybe he’s taking you dancing?” Hana wondered aloud. “It’s kinda romantic that he’s keeping everything a surprise!”

“So romantic,” you parroted at her sarcastically.

You didn’t know why, but you felt quite nervous about this one. You had been on more than your fair share of first dates recently, so it really didn’t make sense to feel this way about the fake one. Probably just because everything was a surprise.

“Ya! Why am I nervous!?” you jumped up and down aggressively, shouting at yourself.

Hana shrugged, even though she knew the answer. Best to let you come to your own epiphany. She fretted and cooed the appropriate amount as she helped you finish your makeup and hair. You were satisfied when you looked in the mirror, but that didn’t make your armpits any less sweaty. Thank god for prescription grade antiperspirant.

“Ready?” Minghao greeted you at your door with a bouquet of flowers around half an hour later.

“I think,” you eyed him suspiciously, still irked that he hadn’t spilled a single clue about your activities.

“Put these in water so we can go!” he thrust the bouquet at you impatiently.

“Okay, okay,” you muttered. You scanned the blooms quickly and were pleased and surprised that all of them were cat safe. He’d remembered. You grabbed an empty jar and plunked the stems into it before returning to Minghao. “Is this outfit acceptable?” you paused to check, turning in a full circle so he could inspect.

“Yes,” he nodded, eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place, but it vanished just as quickly. “Now let’s go! We need to be on time.”

Minghao shepherded you into the car and drove towards your destination. You were, strangely, at a loss for words and so spent the time inspecting his car and marveled at how clean it was. Usually you couldn’t stop yourself from babbling about nonsense at him, but this simulated date seemed to have rendered you speechless. As he pulled into the parking lot, your eyes lit up reading the sign.

“Hana was right!” you grinned at him triumphantly. “It is dancing!”

“Yes,” he chuckled at your expression. It wasn’t like you were the one who had guessed right, but he’d never know that with the way you beamed at him. “Intro to Rumba! I thought it’d be fun to try something new together.”

“Rumba?” you thought hard. You weren’t well versed in ballroom dance styles, but the name rang a bell. You had definitely seen it on a ‘Something-est Things To Do With Your Partner’ kind of list. “I don’t know how to dance,” you whispered to Minghao as the other students filtered into the class.

“That’s why it’s fun,” he grinned down at you.

After beating you at beer pong last week, Minghao had been itching to get the upper hand on you again. While he wasn’t very skilled at ballroom, he did have some dance experience from his past. Rumba was also fairly sensual in nature and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to watching you squirm and be flustered over it.

With your hands tucked behind your back, you watched intently as the instructors demonstrated the short routine that you would work on during class. You did your best to keep your cool, but you felt like everyone probably heard the sound of your loud gulp as you registered just how close together you would be with Minghao. There was probably technically some distance between the instructors, but not that you could see with the naked eye.

Minghao blinked a few times as he watched the demo with you. This was closer quarters than any other style of dance he had ever tried before and he wondered if he had made a mistake.

“Okay, right hand to left hand. Leading partner’s right hand on the following partner’s waist. Following partner’s left hand resting gently at the back of the leading partner’s neck,” the instructions came.

“Okay, right hand here, left hand here,” you muttered to yourself as Minghao clasped his left hand into your right and you hooked your left hand around the back of his neck. You managed to follow the first set of steps without tripping over yourself too spectacularly, but the next combination threw you for quite the loop.

“So now comes a sexy part,” the instructors grinned mischievously, “Leading is going to spin the following out and then pull them back in to face them. And then following partner is going to drop in a slow and sexy wiggle, their hand trailing down the leading partner’s chest.

Oh. Your lips pursed as your mind painted the mental picture of what that would look like. You resisted the urge to glance furtively at Minghao, pink rising in your cheeks.

Next to you, Minghao blinked. Once, twice, and then one more time for good measure. He had been so busy considering how this class might affect you that he hadn’t even thought of himself. The idea of you trailing your fingertips down the centerline of his chest made him want to shake his head furiously.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” The rapid counts snapped both of you out of your thoughts. “Spin out!”

You held onto Minghao’s fingers tightly as you spun away from him.

“Fancy arm!”

You flung your arm out theatrically and were inordinately pleased to make Minghao laugh.

“Now tuck your arm as you spin back in!” the instructions continued.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing before you brought your arm back to your center and spun into Minghao’s chest. Slowly, your hips drew figure eights as you worked your way down into a squat and your eyes followed your hand’s slow trail down his chest. Like watching a train wreck.

Minghao looked to the instructors for the next directions, desperate to be not looking at you. He wanted to groan. Even in this wordless touch, you were mischievous, not drawing straight down, but rather trailing a wavy line, timed with the movement of your hips on the way down.

“Now leading partner, you are going to pull them back up! Forceful! Dramatic! What are they doing down there? They’re up to no good!”

You had wanted to laugh, but when Minghao dragged you back up to your feet and looked deeply into your eyes…all of that went out the window. For a moment, the directions barked by the instructors faded into the background and all you could hear was a soft buzzing in your ears as you held his gaze.

“Very good, very good you two!” the instructors clapped excitedly as they walked towards you. “Tension! Eye contact! That’s what the rumba is all about, excellent!”

“Thank you!” You almost shouted. You were so excited to be able to rip your eyes away from Minghao that you plastered a wide grin across your face and gave an awkward thumbs up to the whole class.

“How do you do this dance without falling in love with each other?” another student wondered aloud.

“You don’t!” the instructor replied with a laugh. “Every so often you get a pair that falls in love and gets married, but in general you break up but you keep dancing together because you have good physical chemistry.”

“Yikes.” you turned to Minghao with a bemused look on your face. You were relieved to see that the tension seemed to have dissipated and he found your instructor’s comments as strange as you did. The rest of the class passed with relative ease, but the feel of his fingers resting at your waist and nipping into your hips certainly lingered longer than was ideal.

“What’d you think?” Minghao asked as he started driving to the next destination.

“That was fun,” you nodded after some consideration. “Definitely out of the box and a new experience for me. Also a very good way to gauge physical chemistry. Honestly a very good early date activity. Ten out of ten.”

He preened under your compliment. You wondered what your next activity would be, but knew that asking would get you nowhere, so you tried to fill your brain with other thoughts. After a while, you ran out of things to think about and your eyes decided to regard Minghao as he drove. His right hand lingered at the gearshift, fingers tapping every so often as his eyes stayed glued to the road. You shifted in your seat as you watched the tendons of his forearms flex in a very distracting way. The way he looked when he was focused was…unfortunately attractive.

Minghao could feel your eyes on him as he drove. He struggled to keep his attention on the road as his mind played back snippets from class. Namely, the moment when he had pulled you back up to your feet and locked eyes with you for just a little too long. Your eyes had widened and your lips had parted just slightly as you gazed back up at him and rational thought had almost left him completely.

“No, Minghao! Really?!” you squealed excitedly as he pulled into the parking lot of the botanical garden. “You remembered!”

“Of course,” he nodded, parking the car. You had mentioned the Poisonous Plants special exhibit off-handedly a few weeks ago and he had filed it away in his brain. He liked the botanical garden too.

“Look how beautiful!” you gasped as you looked at the Atropa belladonna, or Deadly Nightshade. “I can’t believe a flower this beautiful is also poison! Isn’t that cool? Such a good name too.”

Minghao chuckled. You were making your little frog face again. He didn’t know if he thought of poison as cool, but he enjoyed seeing your excitement over such a morbid topic. The expression you made when you were enthralled by something was painfully endearing to him.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you wrapped your arms around him excitedly as you headed towards the exit archway of the garden.

“You’re welcome,” Minghao was surprised by your sudden physical affection. “You’re such a nerd, I’m glad you had a good time,” he teased as his arms folded around your waist naturally.

You wrinkled your nose at him playfully. You couldn’t help the slight hitch in your breath before you pulled away, looping your arm in his happily as you walked through the other areas of the garden. This closeness grew less and less foreign as the day went on and was directly correlated to your concern for your own sanity.

…

“So…what do you think?” Minghao inquired after you had settled in at your table at a rooftop restaurant and bar. He really enjoyed the ambiance here and thought you’d enjoy the food as well.

“Of?” you replied blankly, having been busy reading over the menu.

“Our date?” his brows creased together, he had not been expecting that response.

“Oh! Good! Really good, actually,” you nodded, trying to speak of it in a detached way. “You did a really good job picking activities and this restaurant. This menu is so interesting! But at the same time, I feel like you are at an unfair advantage because you know me pretty well by now. I don’t think this is a reasonable expectation to have for a first blind date. I also probably wouldn’t agree to so many things in one day with them, because what if we didn’t hit it off? Also wouldn’t let them drive me because what if they’re a murderer?”

“You think I’d set you up with a murderer?”

“You never know,” you shook your finger at him playfully, “People are full of surprises, unfortunately.”

Minghao watched you as you watched the sunset. He agreed with you, this had been a really good date. For whatever reason, you had leaned into the physical affection at the botanical garden and it had made his brain go haywire. He found that he not only didn’t want this date to end, but he wanted a second and a third (maybe to infinity) with you. He wanted to watch you try really hard at things that you had never done before and wanted to watch you make your little cartoon frog face when you were delighted by something.

“What?” you asked, turning back to meet Minghao’s lingering gaze.

“Nothing. I’m just having a really great time with you today,” he smiled back.

Your smile faltered as your heart pounded. You searched his face for some hint that he was teasing you, like usual, but it wasn’t there.

“Minghao!” an excited voice pulled your attention away suddenly. You turned to see two men, one tall and muscular and the other slighter and shorter.

“Mingyu, Jae,” Minghao waved at them easily, “Coworkers,” he explained to you as they approached. “This is YN.”

“Oh, are you on a date?” the taller man’s eyes flitted between you and Minghao, slowly coming to a realization.

“Wait no. YN. No, they’re not dating!” the other man interjected as he connected his brain cells, “Jeonghan told me about this! You two have been setting each other up on dates, right? Or something like that?”

“That’s right,” you laughed, “So sorry, who’s Mingyu and who’s Jae?”

“Ah, sorry, yes,” Minghao chuckled, “Mingyu and Jae,” he gestured towards them respectively.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, unable to help the way your eyes raked over Mingyu. He was your exact physical type and his eyes sparkled obviously at you when he talked.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair! We were on our way out,” Jae nodded at you after not too long.

“I hope to see you again sometime,” Mingyu smiled at you, leaning down for another handshake before they left. Minghao bristled.

“Him,” you turned to Minghao, oblivious to his irritation. “Set me up with him, he’s my exact type!”

“Mingyu?” Minghao’s nose wrinkled slightly. “You don’t even know him.”

“He’s so hot though,” you exhaled theatrically, not really caring what his personality was like when he had a body like that. “That’s what a blind date is for, right? Blind to the red flags that I don’t want to see.”

Minghao scoffed at your absurdity. On the one hand, Mingyu was a perfectly nice guy. Maybe too eager and bubbly for you, but he trusted that he could treat you well. On the other hand, he had just been grappling with the idea of wanting you for himself, so the two sides of his brains clashed violently and he really had no explanation for the next word that left his mouth.

“Beg.”

“Excuse me?” you must have misheard him.

“Beg me. And I’ll set you up with him,” he leaned back, smirk playing across his lips as he teased you mercilessly.

“P-please?” you stuttered, thighs pressing together inexplicably at the look on his face.

“Cuter,” he goaded you, tongue tracing across his lips as the flush rose in your cheeks. Your heart threatened to stop.

“Hao, please?” your eyes became doe-like and your lower lip pouted out just slightly. You didn’t even know why you were humoring him, you’d never let a man make you beg for anything before.

“There, see? That wasn’t so hard,” he sat back up, clearing his throat slightly as he glanced away. “I’ll set it up,” he nodded, heart sinking in his chest.

“Great,” you smiled, chest feeling tight. Your heart was racing.

…

You found yourself perplexed and kicking a small pebble down the sidewalk after your date with Mingyu. It wasn’t that it had gone poorly, no in fact just the opposite. You were surprised that he had even been available to be set up because he was, on paper, perfect. He was funny, sweet, eager and all in that body? It was simply unfair.

No, the thing that you were confused and frustrated about was that you didn’t really want to go on another date with him. For whatever reason, the only feeling you could muster for him was a lukewarm fondness and it really made you mad. Typically, you would call Minghao to debrief, but you were mad at him too! Your date with him last week was the reason the bar was so unreasonably high now, after all.

“Damn,” you sighed to yourself as you gave the poor pebble another swift kick.

…

Minghao glanced at his phone, irritated to see that you still hadn’t messaged him with any updates. Dinner had to be over by now, right? Normally you at least snuck away to text him from the bathroom, so for his phone to be this dry could only be a sign that the date had gone well. Probably too well.

[mingyu]: ‘dude! YN is wonderful! thank you for setting this up!’

[hao]: ‘ah, so it went well?’

[mingyu]: ‘i think so! she’s cool as hell man’

[mingyu]: ‘she makes such a cute face when she gets excited’

Minghao saw red for a moment. The intensity of his jealousy caught him by surprise and he had to reign himself in before he replied to Mingyu’s text.

[hao]: ‘yeah, i like her too, lol’

Minghao threw his phone onto the sofa. Stupid idiot.

…

[hao]: ‘are you ever going to admit defeat or are you going to just ignore me forever?’

You had been doom scrolling in bed when his text appeared and before you knew it, you were calling him.

“Hey,” his voice was soft when he picked up. The way his heart had jumped when he’d seen your incoming call was unreasonable.

“Hi,” you greeted him, your voice sounded small.

“So…,” Minghao waffled. He didn’t really want to talk about Mingyu, but he wasn’t really sure what else to talk to you about. “Mingyu said he liked you.”

“Oh, did he?” you chuckled, “He seems like the type of person that likes everyone.”

Hao laughed because you weren’t wrong.

“It went well, though, right?” He wished that, like all the other dates, this one had been a dud too.

“It was okay,” you shrugged, “I don’t see myself going on another date with him though, to be honest. He’s a little too…I don’t know?” you trailed off trying to explain.

“Oh?” Minghao’s voice piqued with interest, “Well I’m starting to run out of friends,” he joked.

“I don’t think I want you to set me up with any more of your friends,” you sighed. “No more first dates for a while, I think.”

Minghao froze as he saw his opening. He knew he would forever be kicking himself if he didn’t take the shot now.

“Are you home?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, I’m in the middle of errands, but I’ll be there in ten. I have to ask you something in person.”

“Oh okay.”

Minghao didn’t leave much more room for discussion as he hung up and turned the car around, driving towards your place. You checked your appearance nervously as you waited.

[hao]: ‘here’

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you opened the door for him, more nervous now than you had been for your date.

��Hi,” he greeted you from under a black baseball cap. It was annoying how he looked so good in it. “Can I come in?”

“No,” you joked as you opened the door for him.

“So no more first dates, does that mean you’re officially tapping out of our game?” he asked, looking down at you.

“N-,” your instinct was to push back, but he was right this time. “I mean, yes, I guess so. I’m tired of this meeting people business, I just want to spend time with people that I already like.”

“Would that include me?” he grinned, stepping towards you and until you backed into the kitchen counter.

“I-, I have mixed feelings about you,” you answered honestly, unable to meet his gaze.

“Can I take you out on a second date?” he ducked his head towards yours, hands coming to rest at your hips.

“I-,” you squeezed your eyelids together. In the past you would’ve panicked, but this closeness was now familiar to you and you only wanted to sink into it further. “Maybe you should beg this ti-,” you raised your brows, flicking your eyes mischievously to his.

“Ah!” Minghao cut you off sternly. “I’d think twice about that.”

“But-,” you couldn’t help yourself.

He cut you off with a firm grip at the base of your throat. His longer fingers tapped against the side of your neck as he regarded you sternly. “Will you behave?”

You knew you should say yes. Part of you might have even wanted to say yes, but you were you to your core. “Maybe.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” he teased you in a sing-songy voice. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“There,” you pointed to a door towards your right. Without so much as a warning, you found yourself being hauled and plunked onto the edge of your bed.

“You have been driving me crazy for months, so let’s see if I can return the favor,” he looked down at you, tongue poking in his cheek.

“Months?” you wondered, thighs squeezing together nervously.

“Yes, months,” Minghao reached out and patted you on the cheek condescendingly. “So picky and difficult about every single person that I set you up with. Were you doing it on purpose or did you really not notice?”

“Not on purpose! They just…,” you trailed off sheepishly.

“What’s that? Speak up.”

“They sucked cause you’re bad at picking,” you squinted at him defiantly. You hated that you loved the way he was treating you.

“Try again?” he grabbed you around the jaw, his fingertips pressing your lips into an unflattering fish face. You could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t humor you for much longer.

“They weren’t you,” came your muffled reply, your lips moving in an exaggerated manner between his long fingers.

“One more time?” Minghao’s eyes danced at you, fingers relinquishing their grip. He wanted to hear it again, clearly.

“They weren’t you!” you replied, sickeningly sweetly eyes creasing into sarcastic half moons as you smiled at him.

“Tch,” he scoffed, pushing you back onto the bed and climbing over you. “You are so difficult,” he shook his head as his eyes raked across you, admiring your shape. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You let out a simpering sigh as his lips nibbled from just behind your earlobe down to your collarbone. His teeth nipped roughly as his fingertips trailed from your knee to your hip and gripped tightly.

“Hao,” you sighed, “Kiss me?”

“Hmm, do you deserve that?” he rebutted, pulling back to look in your eyes.

“Please?” you pouted, tugging at the front of his shirt. “I’ll be good.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” he laughed, his lips grazing yours.

“Minghao, please,” you insisted and he indulged you.

Minghao brought his lips to yours, kissing you thoroughly. His hands kneaded possessively at your hip as you nipped at his lips. Your kisses were peppered with soft moans and exaltations.

“You make such desperate sounds,” he teased appreciatively. You flushed at his description, but he wasn’t wrong. “Lay back and let me appreciate you,” he pressed a kiss to your temple before helping you undress completely.

Starting at the bottom of the bed, he trailed soft, plush kisses from your ankles to your knees and then from your knees to your hips. He nipped, bit, and sucked his way up your inner thighs until you were glistening and slick for him. His fingers pried your legs apart, allowing him to taste you for the first time.

“Hao!” your thighs closed instinctively around his ears as he lapped long, leisurely strokes with his tongue. You heard him chuckle as he gripped above your knees, holding you open for him. He teased you with his hot breath, enjoying watching you shift and writhe, just for him.

“So gorgeous,” he rested his cheek against your thigh for a moment, enjoying the way your chest heaved with shallow breaths as you came down from the edge for the second time.

“Ming-hao!” you squealed as he brought his lips back around your clit, sucking with a torturous pressure. “I-, I-, I,” you malfunctioned, hand gripping his hair tightly as you came hard against his lips.

“Very good,” he grinned up at you, his lips and chin glossy with your slick. “Can I finger you now?”

“I mean, yes?” you laughed nervously, a little concerned at what his hands would be able to achieve after experiencing his mouth alone.

“Don’t cum until I say so,” he directed as his fingertips slid through your wet folds. “You are so wet,” he commented offhandedly as he pressed two fingers in a v-shape against you, squeezing around your swollen clit. Your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ shape as he ground his fingers against you, avoiding direct contact where you wanted it most.

“Hao,” you cried, hand resting around his wrist as you squirmed helplessly under him. “Why are you torturing me?!”

Minghao paused for a moment. He supposed he was going a bit more out of his way to undo you than was typical for him. It wasn’t fair, but his pent up jealousy was manifesting and you were there to pay the price.

“Are you telling me you don’t like it?” he asked, cocking his head at you.

“Well, no,” you blushed, sinking into the pillow shyly.

“Then let me torture you a bit, sweetheart,” he grinned sweetly at you, fingers pinching together firmly around your clit again. “You’re so incredibly wet, just for me?” he marveled rhetorically as he slid two fingers into you, parting your wet, warm walls.

“Yes,” you nodded, pressing your hips up to meet him. You rolled your hips, desperate for as much as he would give. “More,” you begged until he added a third finger, stretching you slightly.

“Look at you,” Hao cooed appreciatively, nipping at your upper thigh as he stroked his fingers in and out of your deeply. The scrape of his teeth oversensitized you suddenly and you became a whimpering, desperate mess quickly.

“Hao, please, darling,” you clutched at him urgently, “I need, please let me cum!”

“Cum for me, darling,” he cooed the pet name back at you as he kept up the pace until you had collapsed into a pile of mush for him. “So good,” he praised you, pressing soft kisses along your jaw as you recomposed yourself.

“Blurple?” you asked, now that you had the presence of mind to register his hair color. “This is pretty,” you grinned, running your fingers through the colorful strands.

“You’re pretty,” he nuzzled you gently, fingertips trailing across the underside of your breasts.

“Oh,” you flushed.

“You are.”

“You are…wearing too many clothes,” you observed impishly, fingers tugging at his waistband. He laughed as he helped you shrug off his layers.

“How would you like me?”

Minghao visibly thought as he slipped on a condom. “You would look absolutely gorgeous on top of me, riding me,” he smiled.

You flushed, grinning at his flowery praise as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself along his length. Your hands splayed across his chest and you took a moment to admire his lithe physique. “So handsome,” you whispered before lowering yourself onto him slowly.

“Fuck,” he hissed as you took him in completely. The tendons in his neck were taut as you drew back up and back down.

“You feel good, Hao,” you breathed, holding onto him for support as your hips found a comfortable rhythm. Each stroke, each intrusion made you shudder with pleasure and the wet sounds were joined by your soft moans and Minghao’s tense hisses.

“You feel incredible, petal,” he grabbed you tightly around the ribcage, bringing you down on him with slightly more force. You faltered at the additional impact.

“I’m so close,” you leaned forward, looking directly into Minghao’s eyes. Nodding, he gripped your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic crest as he bucked up, deeply, into you.

“Come with me, YN,” he coaxed breathlessly. The way he purred your name undid you. An anguished wail left your lips as you clenched around him, triggering his release as well.

“So did I earn a second date?” Minghao teased as he folded you into his chest, cuddling you closely.

“I think you might have,” you grinned up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.

“Danbi is going to be happy when she finds out about this,” Minghao chuckled into your hair.

“Oh we’re never going to hear the end of it,” you moaned. “Maybe let’s no-”

“Ah,” he reached to press your jaw shut and you stilled. You delighted at this subtle, domineering action. Quite a match indeed.

#minghao fic #svthub #minghao fluff #minghao smut #the8 fic #the8 smut #the8 fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #minghao imagine #minghao scenario #the8 imagine #the8 scenario #seungkwansphd:writes #we get along infamously #minghao fanfic #the8 fanfic

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years ago

Text

Cuff(ed) It

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in The Shape of Youniverse

The Prompt: You and Steven attend his department holiday party

Requested by: a lovely nonnie!!

Pairing: Steven x afab!reader, background Jake x afab!reader, and Marc x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Spice-O-Meter: 🌶🌶🌶 (Rated Explicit, Minors DNI!)

Word Count: 3.8k

CW/TW: Tonight we’re pleased to offer Steven’s students being thirsty for him, talk of meddling in one’s marriage (nothing serious though), tipsy (but still very consensual) sex, exhibitionism, f!receiving fingering, mirror!sex, doggy!style, mentions of pregnancy and conceiving, breeding kink, lactation kink and breastplay, dirty talk, tooth-rotting sappiness over little bebes at the end

A/N: THE FINAL PROMPT FILL! WOOOOO ONLY TOOK ME A SHORT QUICK THREE-ODD MONTHS TO GET THROUGH THEM ALL 😝 This fic? Gonna be honest, she’s a bit chaotic, but in the best way I hope. I started writing it, felt stuck, opened a new document and this poured out. Translations at the bottom of the post!

“You know, I never noticed it until tonight, but you know who’s actually quite fit?”

“Who?”

“Doctor Grant.”

“Oh girl I knowwwwwww. At school he slouches and wears those dorky shirts, but at stuff like this, when he’s in a suit and his wife’s with him, I always remember how sneaky-hot he is.”

“Oh my god, exactly!”

“It’s like a department rite-of-passage to fancy Doctor Grant a bit, if I’m honest, especially after the holiday party or a fundraiser for the school or something when we all remember how bloody handsome he is.”

“I thought it was just me!” the first girl (a graduate student was your educated guess) giggled.

“No, it’s definitely a thing,” her friend confirmed.

You stood paralyzed in the restroom stall as the conversation unfolded on the other side. You’d already peed, should you leave the little cubicle and inevitably interrupt them?

Would they recognize you? You didn’t want to embarrass them. They were right after all, Doctor Grant was really quite fit, though you were admittedly biased.

Plus a craven, vain, possessive part of you wanted to hear more. With a six-month-old at home, your husband in the midst of three careers, and just the sheer amount of time you’d been together, sometimes the melee of life could make you forget just how well you’d done in the spouse department. It was nice to be reminded.

“What’s the tea on his wife, hm? How did Mrs. Grant cuff that?” The first girl prodded.

Her question was a sentence to stay in the stall. They definitely would recognize you if you emerged now.

“No idea honestly,” her companion answered, “I mean, she’s definitely pretty. They told Dean they met through a friend, and on their first date he took her to an exhibit of her favorite artist and like did all this research to impress her.”

“He had to impress her?” she echoed, her tone tinged with disbelief. Your brow furrowed. Yes, your husband was a fox, but you weren’t totally out of his league, were you? You were certainly worthy of being courted a bit, even if you did jump into bed with Marc on the first date. “I’d be on my knees every night for a guy who looked like Doctor G and was so romantic.”

They both burst more giggles. To be fair, you did spend a fair amount of time on your knees. Especially since you’d started dating Marc first, who unlike Steven, had his fair share of bedmates and exuded more inherent confidence. It intimidated you. So when you started sleeping together, you’d concocted a self-imposed need to prove to Marc that you were up to par, if not capable of exceeding, his former lovers. It was why when you learned his ex-wife was The (stupidly stunning) Scarlet Scarab, you wholly lost your shit. How does one compete with a gorgeous superhero?

“I bet she’s on them a fair bit,” Miss Know-It-All divulged, “Doctor Burke did her doctorate along with him and they didn’t start seeing each other until his last year of the course. And now they’re married and just had a baby. Bitch worked quick.”

“Honestly, can’t knock it,” the first girl conceded.

Thank you, you thought. A part of you wanted to interject that Nyla had been unexpectedly conceived on your honeymoon and you’d dated Marc for a year, then him and his alters for another year after that before getting engaged. The pair of you also weren’t literal babies like these girls currently gossiping a meter away from you. You were both adults, your husband was in his forties for heaven's sake.

“I bet the baby’s cute,” she mused further.

“Oh my goodness, he hasn’t showed you? All Doctor G does is bang on about Nyla. It’s literally either coursework or his kid if you talk to him.”

Your heart swelled. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard from Steven’s colleagues what a proud papa he was to your little girl. Hearing it from strangers, and completely unprompted, was extra special though.

“I’ve never really had a reason to talk to him, and now I don’t know if I can actually without looking like a total idiot.”

“No, he’s really sweet, he’s the type of fit guy who doesn’t know he’s fit. And he’s like scary clever. You can ask him literally anything about ancient Egypt and he knows it. But he’s also not an arsehole about it you know? I’m applying to be his TA next semester.”

“Are you?” she gasped. “Really?”

“Ummm yeah, why wouldn’t I want a dishy, brilliant thesis advisor?” Miss Know-It-All countered. “He should be at Oxford or Cambridge really. You know Sam Miller babysits for them?”

“They do?!” Her friend exclaimed. “Don’t know if I’d want that gig for the inside scoop or if it’d be too much pressure. Their kid is still a baby right?”

“Yeah, I’d say it’s worth it to suss out if Doctor G and her are open to…let’s say, ‘featured players’ in the bedroom.”

“Stop Emma, you’re terrible!”

“She came to one of his lectures once with the baby and Dean thought he heard them fucking in his office.”

Fuck, you swore internally. Steven had sworn the offices would be empty! You’d kept quiet!

“Noooo! Doctor G is hot I’ll give you that, but he dresses like my grandpa. There’s no way he’s that kinky.”

“Maybe he’s not, but she could be,” Emma pointed out. “Only one way to find out.”

“You are such a slag,” Emma’s friend accused her playfully. “Come on, we need to get back, I want another drink.”

You heard two pairs of heels shuffle to the door, then it open and close behind them, and at last the coast was clear. Finally exiting the stall, you robotically washed your hands and touched up your lipstick, moving to check that your hair still looked decent afterwards.

Your gaze lingered in the mirror to give yourself a once-over. You’d chosen a flattering, but pretty conservative dress for Steven’s UCL holiday party. Sure, there wasn’t much you could do about the size your tits had swollen up to while you were breastfeeding, but they weren’t necessarily on display tonight either. Your currently huge boobs were for your husband’s eyes (plus hands, mouth, and sometimes cock) only.

Despite your attempts to leave the eavesdropped chat between Emma and her friend in the loo where it belonged, it became obvious fairly quickly that you failed spectacularly at doing so.

“You alright?” Steven inquired, his features creased with concern. “You were in the toilets for ten minutes and have barely said a word since. Something wrong?”

“I’m fine, sorry honey,” you dispelled the worry from his face. “Just overheard an interesting conversation in there that I haven’t been able to shake.”

You grabbed a fresh glass of wine from a passing server while Steven asked “What about?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mmmhmm,” you confirmed, taking a swig of cabernet. “It’s apparently a UCL Ancient Civ rite-of-passage to have a crush on you.”

Your husband looked at you like you’d sprouted another head. His incredulity made you burst into laughter.

“What? I’m not surprised! You’re a very good-looking, intelligent, kind man! I’ve been telling you this since we first met, after all this time—“ you leaned in and lowered your voice to add “—and all the ways I’ve let you fuck me, do you really believe that us getting married and having Nyla was just some cosmic fluke?”

“Honestly? Yeah.”

“Baby—“

Steven averted his gaze and shrugged, offering “Marc was always the handsome one…” as his explanation.

That line. It made you want to whip your wine glass across the room. You restrained yourself and instead growled through gritted teeth, “It feels silly for me to have to remind you as much as I do that you two share the exact same face and body.”

“But still—“

“No more buts anymore Steven! You have co-eds hot for you, you’re officially sexy independent of Marc,” you teased. “And you ought to feel lucky that we’re secure enough in our marriage that I’m not bothered by it. Especially since one of them wants to be your TA and replace Sam as our sitter to see if we’re into threesomes. Which I guess is better than trying to steal you from me outright, to be fair.”

Another gaping incredulous stare from Steven. “Who?”

“I didn’t get her name,” you lied. Truth was, Emma didn’t have a popsicle’s chance in hell at interfering in your marriage. Never mind that you and Steven were deeply in love and had a child together, she hadn’t a clue about the D.I.D, Marc’s past life as a mercenary, his ex-wife, not to mention the service to the Egyptian god of the moon which led to a stint as a superhero. You two had shared and been through too much for a horny twenty-something to impact what you had. “But apparently Dean heard us when we…um, had ‘parental time’ in your office a couple months ago.”

“Bollocks.”

“We knew we were being naughty,” you shrugged.

“Because it was your idea,” he muttered.

“Oh don’t start with me, Doctor Grant. You’re the one who told me not to use the nursing apron,” you fired back. “Didn’t you want to say hi to the department’s Director of Education? There he is.”

***

The rest of the evening unfolded uneventfully, though Emma and her friend, who you learned was named Marnie, did stop by for a quick chat. You were content to clam up and just watch the interaction unfold. They were perfectly polite, unlike their prattling in the bathroom, though they very much fit the trope of a pair of giggling schoolgirls. Steven, of course, was oblivious.

Blame it on the wine, the rare baby-less outing, and being emboldened by strangers raving about how hot your husband was, but when Dean insisted that you and Steven come to the after-party at a pub nearby, you insisted on going. Steven was only one of the professors in attendance, because he was one of the younger, cooler ones, therefore the vibe was much more relaxed and festive than the one at the official university get-together.

You’d had Dean over for dinner (a takeaway dinner that you had to constantly get up from the table because Nyla had started teething that week, but dinner still) so spending time with him was easy and delightful while Steven mingled with his other colleagues.

You also liked to privately touch base with him about Steven’s professional wellbeing. Your husband was tight-lipped about any office woes, and while Dean wasn’t privy to your husband’s D.I.D., you knew that sometimes aspects of it could manifest in your husband’s workplace. The last thing you wanted to do was interfere, but Steven truly loved what he did, and as his wife with a tendency to fret, you liked to keep a tab or two to ensure nothing jeopardized his passion.

“I’m impressed,” Dean remarked as you two huddled outside the pub while he had smoke. “You haven’t batted an eye at all the little first-year masters students throwing themselves at him.”

You laughed. Steven’s hot professor status was really department-wide thing it seemed. “I can’t blame them. He’s very dreamy, but I baby-trapped him so…”

Dean cackled when you punctuated your response with a shrug. “No flies on you, darling. Cheers.”

You and your husband gracefully bowed out when mentions of moving to a club began to take hold. Too tipsy and tired for the Tube, Steven flagged a cab for the both of you, even though it meant that he’d have Jake backseat-driving in his head the whole ride back to Brixton.

Once inside, you rested your head on your husband’s shoulder, hoping to maybe doze off for a few minutes in case Nyla was up when you got home. Steven automatically pressed a kiss to your temple. He was so solid and warm, so safe, you couldn’t help but snuggle closer to him and place a hand over his knee.

“In case I haven’t told you yet, you look pretty as a present tonight,” he murmured into your ear.

You don't know what it was about his compliment, perhaps it was the way he said it, or the way you’d had four glasses of wine, but Steven's soft words of adoration set your body alight.

“Hmm, thank you darling,” The hand that was on his knee traveled towards his inseam to squeeze the meat of his thigh. “Wanna unwrap me? Or maybe just take off the bow? I’d let you slip my knickers aside and play with your present right now if you wanted.”

“Bloody hell,” he groaned, both at your filthy offer and the fact that you’d dragged your hand to cup him through his trousers. “Babe, he’ll see.”

The cabbie had airbuds in (a personal pet peeve of Jake’s) and eyes trained on the road. You shook your head imperceptibly. “Not if we’re careful about it.”

To prove your point, you subtly shifted to drape your thigh over Steven’s leg so he could do just as you suggested. It seemed that your fondling of your husband’s package, steadily but insistently coaxing him to hardness, was able to convince him to follow suit. He tucked his hand under your skirt, mimicking your approach, dragging his palm slowly up your leg. Next, his nimble fingers nudged the dampened crotch of your knickers aside and delved between your folds.

You could feel Steven’s length jump and swell when he made contact with your pussy. It prompted you to rub at him a little harder, biting your lip when one of his digits penetrated you.

“My saucy exhibitionist minx,” he purred into your ear.

“Says the man who screws me in cafe loos,” you shot back without any real heat. How could you be snarky when Steven was slowly, torturously finger-fucking you and his hot, hard manhood was pulsing under your palm?

“Mmmm, I always get a stiffy when we eat there now,” Steven confessed in a whisper about your neighborhood cafe. “That was insane, sucking at your titties and riding my cock like that in the middle of the day.”

“I know daddy,” you sighed, clenching around his digit at the thought. “So naughty, but so good.”

The remainder of the ride home passed in a labored silence between you two, both trying to enjoy each other’s ministrations, but not so much that you clued in the driver. There was one close call when Steven had the gall to sneak another finger inside of you. You nearly drew blood biting your lip to stifle moaning at the intrusion, since it meant you could get straight to fucking once you arrived home.

Tonight wasn’t the first date night you’d come chomping at the bit to make love, so thankfully you two had a pre-established routine. Steven used his coat to cover his groin and went straight to the nursery to check on Nyla while you paid and said goodnight to Sam (your desire was easier to conceal after all). Once Nyla was confirmed to be asleep and Sam had left, you met in your bedroom and tore each other’s clothes off.

The wine warped the edges of your perception, making the clash of teeth and tongues between you and Steven blur into a buzz of arousal, until next thing you knew you were naked, on your hands and knees and your husband was pushing his thick erection inside of you in one determined, smooth shove. You almost moaned the wrong name, nearly keening “Jake” when he entered you, because the position wasn’t one in Steven’s usual rotation. He much preferred for you to ride him, or for you to be on your back - any position where he could sink into your cunt and suckle at your nipples simultaneously.

You weren’t complaining however, and happily pushed back into his thrusts. It wasn’t until Steven angled his hips just right to hit your g-spot, and you threw your head back that you realized it. “We’re in front of the mirror.”

“Mmmhmm,” Steven confirmed, “like to see your tits swing and…ungh, they’ve been watching since you started groping me in the taxi.”

The revelation that Marc and Jake were privy to your coupling had a fresh wave of heat racing down your spine and pooling in your core as Steven continued to rail you.

“Was just so horny for you baby,” you explained, “everyone was eyeing you, but you’re mine and you know you’re mine and I know you’re mine, but I just wanted to feel it. I…I couldn't wait. ”

“You have us now,” he assured you. “Can’t count how many times we’ve seen people checking you out and you’re none the wiser. They can look, but you belong to us, don't you?”

“Yesssss daddy,” you mewled, now equally drunk off the alcohol and your arousal. “Keep giving me your big prick, feels so good.”

“Vamos, Steven, let’s give her more of this big prick she wants so badly,” Jake’s voice growled from behind you. His broad arms moved from your hips to encase your waist and pulled you upright, “Te gusta nena? Like being impaled on our cock like this?”

Your answer was non-verbal, but unmistakably emphatic.

“I think she likes it,” Marc’s American accent chuckled darkly from behind you.

You whined the increase in fullness the change in position brought about, paired with the image you all made in the mirror together. You were first drawn to your husband’s determined expression, so set on his objective to make you see stars that his face was twisted into a snarl. Next, you glimpsed your large breasts heaving with every snap of his hips, and your cunt speared open on his massive erection. The sheer depravity of your reflection made you tilt your head back onto your husband’s broad shoulder and screw your eyes shut.

You knew Steven had wrestled back control of the body when his two large hands found your tits and began to pluck at your nipples. “Love you so much darling, want more kids together. Want Nyla to be just the first.”

His words made your channel flutter around his length at the thought.

“Would you let me? Maybe not tonight, but I want to fill you up with every last drop of my cum, keep these titties big and leaking for me, watch your belly grow again with another gorgeous child.”

“Ohhh fuck Steven,” you gasped, “I want that too.”

“Yeah? You want me to pump you full again?” He urged you, one hand leaving your nipple to suck his soaked fingertip into his mouth for a taste of your milk.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted. You didn’t want another kid right away, but seeing what excellent fathers your husband made definitely meant you wanted more babies eventually. “For now though, will you just make me cum?”

“‘Course darling,” he rumbled, his hand dropping to your clit to push you over the edge. You’d been simmering with yearning all night, so it didn’t take much more than Steven’s hand on your clit, his other on your breast, and his length hammering into you from behind to drown you in ecstasy.

You crumpled back against Steven’s chest while your orgasm coursed through you, too overwhelmed with pleasure to support yourself. Your husband buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent deeply and reveling in the beauty of your release that was unfolding in his arms.

You’d barely floated back down to earth before Steven manhandled you back onto your elbows while he chased his respective climax. The relentless pistoning of his cock into your spent hole emptied every thought from your head that wasn’t “yes”, “good” , or “full”. It wasn’t long before you felt your husband’s seed painting your inner walls and collapsing on top of you.

The late hour and the alcohol made you both slower in extracting yourselves from one another, and after exchanging some sated, passionate kisses, you made a beeline to relieve yourself and wash off your makeup. Steven joined you a moment later in the en-suite to begin his respective nighttime regimen. You two readied for bed in companionable silence. Then:

“It was Emma and Marnie, wasn’t it?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the p as you dotted on moisturizer, “Don’t hold it against them though, I think Emma’s going to apply to be your TA. It was all harmless in the loo, I promise.”

“Alright,” he surrendered. Despite still feeling buzzed, you clocked a momentary conversation between Steven and an alter in the mirror above the sink. Whatever they said to one another, it prompted Steven to add, “You’re very confident about having us all wrapped around your little finger, aren't you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you parried, meeting your husband’s gaze in the mirror. “Especially when I still probably have some of your cum inside me.”

“Esposita está tan descarada esta noche,” Jake pushed forward to remark.

“Soy--no...estoy un poco borracha todavía,” you confessed. As if your husband needed more proof the wine continued to affect you, you announced out of seemingly nowhere, “I need to say night-night to Ny-Ny.”

Steven intervened, catching you when you tried to bolt from the bathroom. “Darling, you can see her on the monitor. Don't wake her up.”

“Don’t tell me when I can see my baby,” you countered with sudden defensiveness that only surfaces when one’s a bit blitzed. You wriggled out of his grasp, “I’ll be quiet.”

You tipsily tip-toed down the hall to Nyla’s nursery, making good on your promise and not causing your daughter to stir at all as you crept to watch her slumber.

It wasn’t as if you wanted to pick her up or play with her, you just couldn’t fathom going to bed without bidding Nyla goodnight. Your eyes studied the little miracle before you. Her plump little feet that you could never pepper with enough kisses, the curve of her lips that must have been painted on her face by a Renaissance master, those insanely long, dark eyelashes she inherited from her father. There were no words, and never would be, to accurately describe the love you had for your daughter.

You silently blew a kiss in her direction, and found Steven in the doorway when you turned to retreat. While you were kind of peeved that he felt the need to supervise you, you weren't that drunk (you were), you pressed yourself into his warm, sturdy side as you both returned to your bedroom.

“She’s just more beautiful than I ever dreamed she’d be,” you whispered reverently.

“I know,” Steven agreed in a murmur as he guided you back to bed. “We’re the two luckiest people alive. Now let’s go to sleep, love.”

A/N: Yayyy we made it! True life: I’m Emma and Marnie IRL. Also are long, sappy afterglows my thing now? Can’t thank everyone enough for getting me to 500, playing with me and requesting these fics, waiting the approximately 98 years it took for me to fill them!!

ESPECIALLY since in the meantime, I now have over 900 followers which is just bonkers!!!!! BONKERS I TELL YOU! I don’t think I’ll do another prompt celebration like I did for 500 if I reach 1k, but something special will come down the pipeline for sure! Love you all so much and again, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU!

Translations:

Vamos - Let’s go/Come on

Te gusta nena? - You like it babe?

Esposita está tan descarada esta noche - Wifey is so cheeky tonight

Estoy un poco borracha todavía - I’m still a little drunk

Taglist: @twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042-blog @nikitawolfxo, @weirdo125 @damnzelsoul @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake

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rainyearning · 29 days ago

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"Lies just become bigger lies, guess it's natural, with, well, lies." To be fair, it was obvious that Hyeon was now just somewhat overwhelmed by all this, how he had never thought about a situation in which he was talking to someone using fake pictures. Sure, he did consider the very real danger that he, indeed, could have been cat fished and everyone around him just kept sparking those thoughts. But he had done his best to push all these worries aside, to ignore all these big ass signs pointing the very obvious way. And then Seokmin had just admitted this, admitted to his lie. Hyeons heart was still beating fast, considering, he was face to face, for the first time, with the guy he had a crush on. And it was so much different than he had imagined it. not bad. By no means was that bad. Because the guy, looking back at him, was looking handsome, cozy.. just very nice in this sheets. And Hyeon, he could so easily imagine laying next to him. Especially, with the shift of camera, how Seokmin was taking just the same position as him.

"Now dancing is one thing, but can you sing? Though I don't say an idol has to be able to do both.. I guess you could convince with a voice if you lacked the footwork." He tried to be calmer, because if he forgot about that little lie, all wasn't too bad. Because he had been talking to a man his age, maybe they did have the same interests and maybe, even based on a lie, there was still room for something. "And like I said, I like that face even more. Though, freckles would look cute on you." His brows raised a little because he indeed didn't know what this meant, or what Seokmin meant with that phrase. "Does it mean you will take me to Disney world and pay for all my snacks there because I sure as hell won't get on any roller coaster?" At least, they had talked about that just a few days ago. "What does it mean, Minnie?" He was hugging his pillow just a bit tighter, silently and curiously looking at the male,, or well, his phone.

that little compliment had his lips curving up into the smallest of smiles, because while it might not be the first time hyeon said such a thing it was the first time it was said to him. and, you know — not to korain. technically. which was enough to get seokmin murmuring a soft thank you in response, just to end up letting out a quiet snort of a laugh right after. “if that happened we’d just have to fess up quicker,” or turn the lie into an even bigger lie, like saying korain was seokmin’s twin, or something insane like that. god — he’s happy that never happened before. and he was hoping it never did! dare he say he hoped he never had to redownload his dating app? he liked hyeon, is all, and thought they got along well. things seemed to be looking up, so maybe they would actually keep in touch? keep talking like they’ve been? who knows, maybe they could even meet —

“if i could dance maybe that would have been in my cards —“ was joked as seokmin adjusted some, rolling to his side and shifting his phone to make sure he was still visible. “don’t lie to me,” his smile grew with his teasing, as if accusing the other of faking his recognition. again, not everyone in the world was going to know him! not everyone liked dramas, or horror, and seokmin was just starting to branch out into other things. but hey, maybe hyeon did see one of his movies or shows and was getting flashbacks. “it was just my face, i swear. everything else was real. i have no reason to lie about anything else.” how he felt, the things he liked and didn't like, everything that was said between them — seokmin meant every bit of it. "you know what this means?" the question came after a few seconds of silence on his end, smile still soft and present as his eyes roamed along hyeon's features.

#amoreemioo

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jokingmisfit · 2 years ago

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I’m (Not) Scared

Hannigram x Reader

Prompt- “You think you can control me now? You never could.”

Warnings!!- The Reader is a serial killer, Graphic Violence, Manipulation, Mentions of Self-harm and Suicide, reader doesn’t like Jack or Chilton and imagines their horrific deaths, (this is honestly so rancid lol)

I sat in the middle of the one person cell. All the other cells in all the other rows were empty. I pulled my legs to sit criss-crossed as I waited for my apparent visitor.

Though, it may just be Chilton trying to have a session again. He never does learn. Chilton is dense and egotistical. He is fun to mess with, but too idiotic to understand the actual meanings of my words. It’s only a matter of time before I have a slip of the tongue and send this pathetic toy spiraling. That wouldn’t be favored, I’m sure, by either of us.

I’ve been precise, distinct. I haven’t done anything truly worth punishment. It’s not like it’s my fault every therapist I had off’d themselves. They simply had weak minds, and they should’ve known better. No one actually thinks I’ve had a large presence in their suicides. After all, once I was hospitalized, I became mute. How would someone who doesn’t talk convince anyone to kill themselves? Guess they’ll never know.

Despite this knowledge I couldn’t wait anymore patiently for the day I could rip him to shreds. When I get the chance I know it won’t be himself holding the knife.

I’ll remove his eyes from their sockets letting the organs pull and pop. I’ll jar them, they'll make a beautiful gift.

I’ll cut his vocal cords so I don’t have to listen to his arrogant voice. I’ll cut small divots into his neck just big enough to the cords before severing them. He won’t die then, no, that wouldn’t be any fun.

I’ll poorly patch his eyes, and I’ll poorly stitch his neck. Then, I’ll cut into his arms and use them as a canvas. I’ll carve him into a beautiful work of art.

All that time he’ll be awake and focused. He’ll feel every cut, scratch, and burn. Chilton will die painfully. He’ll die knowing he will be a perfect piece of art and a very sad rotting corpse.

It wasn’t the steps that brought me from my thoughts, it was the man clearing his throat. Switching my gaze from the side to meet the man's face. Jack Crawford. I haven’t seen that face in a while. I straighten up and smirk. It was hard to hide my giddiness. There were only two reasons he could be here. Something written on his face told me exactly why.

I look at him with intrigue as he glares back. Jack, always so stiff. Looking over, I notice two other men. Both faces make no connection to anyone I’ve met before. They’re incredibly handsome, the pair, but there is something lingering behind the coal and lazarus eyes.

Looking at the two he has roped along with him I catch something I truly haven’t seen in so, very, long. A black shoe box painted completely black. Purple and blue accents painted up the side blend and pop against the background. I knew this box well. It held the few items that always meant the most to me. Everything I truly love lives in that box.

I stiffen and look back to Jack. I tilt my head to the side.

He huffs a sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re going to play your silent game with me. You and I both know you love talking.”

I stared narrowly at him. Angering him is the goal, and I’d be lying if I said his evident irritation wasn’t satisfying.

“I’m not playing games with you Y/n. This situation is very serious. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Jack said, stepping towards the cell.

The man in the suit butted in. “If I may, Jack, there is a possibility that they genuinely do not feel comfortable speaking.”

What the? It was stated oddly, but did he just defend me?

I noticed that Jack was saying something but I couldn’t stop looking at the man in confusion. Even the nicest, most smart people haven’t ever defended me… Why would he do that? Who the hell is he!?

“Okay…” The third man interjected. “We should start over,” He looked at me with raised brows. “Right?”

Frowning I nod back, letting him continue.

He said. “I’m special agent Will Graham and this is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Obviously you’ve met Jack.” Will steps closer. “We’re working on a peculiar case and the killer is, well, from what we’ve seen, they’re obsessed with you. We would like your help in finding the killer.”

He talked slowly and kindly. It was an odd comparison to everyone else. It made me feel… Something. I just don’t know what it is. It makes me actually want to help them. Or more particularly those two. They’re so different.

He held the box up a little. “We were thinking we could find a common ground. We give you something that's important to you in exchange for something that's important to us.”

Sternly Jack cut in stating. “They’re going to help us and they don’t have a choice in it.”

A darkness swirled in my head. I gathered my thoughts and spoke, holding back a smirk. “You think you can control me now? You never could.”

“You’re going to listen because if you don’t everything in that box is gone.” He said waving his hand and scrunching his face.

“Oh, did you forget who I am?” I laugh. “Do it. Go on. Burn the box, tear everything in it to shreds, donate it to an orphanage, recycle it, sell it to the highest bidder, I really don’t care!”

I shake my head, smiling. “Well go on! Burn the pictures, Jack. Tear apart every little seam of that stupid bear, sell the necklace to a pawn shop, throw the little mp3 on the ground so it breaks into a million pieces! I can’t wait to see them go!” I couldn’t hold in my laugh at his mortified face.

“Jack, it should be noted the quick change in demeanor. You must know Y/n is an unstable person, threats do nothing but cause disarray.” Dr. Lecter spoke to him calmly.

It wasn’t anger that gathered like clouds in my head, it was violence. A desire to see the things I held tightly torn apart for no real reason. A need to watch heads roll and blood spill on the ground.

Like the flicker of a switch, the passiveness the doctor and agent made me feel shut off.

I wanted to see him slit his own throat and watch it spray. To see the horror as everyone watches on.I wanted to watch him dig into his own stomach and pull out his most vital organs. To watch his skin bloat and then decay into a pile. I want to see every single piece of flesh be ripped from his body. To watch his eyes go lifeless after endless hours of suffering, but not feeling a light or peace. I want to be the one to send him diving to the divine, if there is one.

I no longer cared to listen. Why should I? I could rip his jugular out with my teeth. I could tear everything he worked for to the ground. I could, I could-

Why does my hand feel warm?

I look at my hand, but it’s not mine I see. Wills made his way over to the cell and placed his hand on mine through the bars. Is this man nuts? I could seriously do damage with this little space.

He moved his thumb over my hand. “I know what you’re seeing.” He whispered. “I know you’ve gotten so numb to it that you act them out, and that sometimes it’s the only time you really feel anything.” Will looks me in the eyes. They’re piercing and hold me in place. “I understand you, Y/n, and I know deep down you’re terrified.”

I took in a shaky breath. I try to pull back, but he holds my hand tightly. “I’m not scared, and I don’t need you to,” I hold my one hand to make quotes. “Understand me.”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No, no you don’t, but I do understand you and you are scared.”

“I am NOT scared.” I state, but I couldn’t hold back the shaking.

“People who experience intrusive thoughts may sometimes give into them, but that does not take away the fear they have of these thoughts.” Of course the doctor had to chime in.

“I’m a serial killer. I murder people for the fun of it. Ask your boss over there about my case and maybe then you’ll notice I really DON'T care enough to be frightened by the big bad scary thoughts.” I state aggressively mocking a child towards the end of my statement.

I looked over to Jack to see if he could convince these two that I’m not that type of person, but when I looked over he wasn’t there. He seriously left. Why would he think that's a good idea?

“We agreed it’d be better if he wasn’t here.”

I’m not scared.

“Why don’t we make a new deal hm?”

I swallow.

I’m not scared.

They’re just two men. That’s not scary.

“You help us and we’ll help you.” He held my hand in both of his rubbing them gently.

I’m not scared.

I can’t breathe.

I’m not scared.

“Stop staring. I could kill you. Break your arm. Scratch you eyes out too”

The doctor smiled eerily. “You wouldn’t do that, you only say that because you’re frightened by us.”

I’m not scared. “I am not scared of you.”

I’m not scared.

“It’s okay Y/n, we’re going to help you.” Will emphasized with a squeeze to my hand.

I’m not scared.

“I don’t need your help.”

Why do they make me feel weak?

I’m not scared.

They both share a look with each other then look at me. Those looks.

Fine.

I’m scared.

#hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #hannigram x reader #poly hannigram #yandere hannigram x reader #yandere hannibal lecter x reader #yandere will graham x reader

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dilfiam-afton · 2 years ago

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“You´ll be fine”

Summary; William finds you out on their balcony, sobbing bc you got broken up with. William implies his attraction to you. GENDER NEUTRAL

READER IS OF AGE

tiny disclaimer; I wrote this when I truly was sick with bad neurological issues so if it's really really weird, I'm sorry I haven't proof-read it yet but I do want to publish it either way

This was supposed to be a fun day! You were going to hang out with Michael, his girlfriend aka your best friend and your (ex) boyfriend who, unfortunately for you, was Michaels best friend.

But now you found yourself sobbing on the Aftons balcony, tear glazed eyes intensely staring down the moon in hopes of her magically making you feel better. After about half an hour you steadied your breathing, wiping your runny nose on one of your sleeves and blinking away a few remaining tears. Why would he break up with you today? Why emberass you in front of Michael and your best friend? You huffed, if he were to be your forever one, your special one, or if he actually loved you, he would NOT have done that. Simple. Coming to think of it; why wasn't your best friend out here with you, comforting you?Oh well, couldn't care less. Finally, you feel at peace, even if just for the moment. The sound of an opening sliding door ripped you from your thoughts, quickly turning around to meet gazes with Michaels father; William. Though you would never dare call him by his first name, he was Mr.Afton to you. You studied him, mentally slapping yourself for coming out here.

Mr.Afton however just sighed as he swiftly reaches into the jacket of his usual purple suit, casually whipping out a cigar along with a purple zippo lighter. His steel grey orbs seemingly undressing you. Mr.Afton made you feel soft, weak and small. You would never dare to ever disrespect him. Not only out of fear, but he was also intimidatingly handsome. "This man indeed does age like fine wine" you thought to yourself, eyes scanning over the tall man. He cocked a brow staring at you, noticing your red, puffy eyes. "What's the matter?" he harshly asked. The lack of care in his voice startled you out your thoughts once again. Suddenly you felt emberassed to admit you just got broken up with. Emberassed to admit you were neither lovable, nor desirable for a man. You never felt so alone before. Now the familiar feeling of warm liquid rising from your eyes hit you again. Much to your dismay, you were now sobbing in front of William, who seemed very helpless and shocked- stunned, even. "Oh." He took another step towards you, considering laying a soothing hand on your shoulder yet deciding against it as to not invade your personal space. "There there. Would you like to tell ol' William what happened, my dear?".

You would, if you could but everytime you tried to explain, the words came out chocked and gargled. The older man in front of you sighed once again, putting out his cigar and opening his arms, inviting you in for a hug "Would a hug make you feel better? Come on, bring it in. Got nothing to lose" within a second you found yourself sobbing into the purple fabric of his shirt. Lucky you couldn't see the disgusted look on his face as your tears stained his suit. You stayed in his arms until you felt...better? He really did have a soothing aura. "Now, what's wrong? What did they do?" he asked once again, now sounding more empethatic and caring than before. You looked away as you begun explaining how your boyfriend broke up with you, how your best friend didn't even try to comfort you, and how you felt undesireble. William stayed silent, nodding every now and then while you spoke to show he was listening. "Know what? That's no matter to cry about. Other women also have nice sons. You wouldn't want to be with someone who doesn't love you, would you?" you shook your head "no.." he let out a chuckle. "Considering the situation I assume you don't want to return to your friends ?" again, you shook your head. "Well then. I do have another guest room. I suppose you may use it..." for a split second he raised his voice "BUT only if you promise to be quiet. The room is attached to my master bedroom and I do not wish to be disturbed." You nodded this time "Yes, Mr.Afton".

As the both of you made your way back inside, you cautiosly following after William, you notice he's walking downstairs. You were indeed confused, yet kept following. "Tell you what. I'll make you a cup of nice tea while you change into your pyjamas. It'll help you sleep. 'S that alright with you?" you managed to smile "Yes! Thank you, Mr.Afton" William clicked his tongue in response "Oh please. Drop the formalities, making me feel old." he grinned. Nodding, you quickly made your way upstairs into the bathroom, getting ready for bed. It seems you took a while because as soon you left the bathroom you noticed Williams bedroom door open, him standing in the frame yet still in his suit.

He stepped aside as to invite you in, pointing to a door across the room. "You'll be sleeping there today. Consult me if you need something. And hey" he took a step closer to you, letting one of his large hands rest on your left shoulder "tomorrows another day. As you get older, a lot of new doors will open while others may remain closed, or close over time. Yet there's no need to frat over what you can't or don't have. It's all okay." you smiled up at him once again. "Thanks Mr- err..William".

Much to your surprise you suddenly felt a strong tug from the hand on your shoulder, yanking you against his chest once again. "And not to mention, there are plenty other men who will take interest in you" for a brief moment you could've sworn he kissed your head. "Now, off to bed with you. Sleep well." he let go of you. "Good night, William!!". As you entered the room you found a cup of tea on your night stand. The room was cozy! You happily sunk into bed, a warm and fuzzy feeling lulling you to sleep.

#fnaf x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf #dilfiam afton

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love-toxin · 2 years ago

Note

For the Halloween sentence starters could you do :

“What are you dressed as?” With billy please?

He’s pretty n I like to look at himmmm

ellie's halloween sentence starters!

x. "What are you dressed as?"

(cws: fake blood, teasing, alcohol, mostly flirting, a little neurodivergent reader for ya)

"So,"

The guy you've been sharing looks with for an hour has finally strolled on over, the party nothing but background noise as he leans over you and speaks softly. Being tall, handsome, and shredded--as you can see by the open leather jacket he's got on--was enough to catch your attention. But when he speaks, his charm is what inclines you to hang on his every word.

"What are you dressed as?"

He raises a brow, thumbing the thin strap of the white gown you've got on. The dress isn't really what most people have been eyeing with your costume--it's mostly the fake blood that you're drenched in, from your hair down your face to stain the long fabric that swishes about your feet.

"Carrie." Usually it's an easy guess, but you're not a perfect match, and you've seen a few other partygoers come and go all done up in blood like you. Most of them are Jasons and Michael Myers, though, to be fair.

"You're cute." He grins, his fingers drifting downwards until he lets his hand fall away. "I'm Billy."

It's your turn to quirk a brow, and your smirk seems to puzzle him for a moment, until you have the grace to fill him in to what he's missing.

"Stephen King Carrie. Not my name--but thanks." You don't want to make fun of him or make him feel like you are, but his little 'oh' of realization makes you giggle, and it only takes him snickering at his own ridicule for any tension to dissolve and your shared laughter to resonate off the party's energy. Having surveyed him for a while over the lip of your solo cup, you'd expected a brash guy like himself, who seems intent and happy on showing off, to roll his eyes and move along with his plan of getting into your pants. But Billy doesn't seem that way, and hey, you like a guy who's modest enough to laugh at himself. "Who are you? Guy-with-his-chest-out?"

Billy laughs out loud at that, and yet he seems not to draw any more attention to himself than he already has. As he does so, he reaches out to flick up the collar of his jacket, and leans on the wall you've got your back to to hover over you.

"Ever seen Lost Boys?"

"Course I have!" Vampires and bloody biker gangs. To say that's not something that piques your interest would be a big, fat lie. "Lemme guess! You're...."

You let your eyes drop to his belt but no further, roam up his chest, and back up to his eyes that haven't left you, his gaze fixated somewhere just below your nose--but when you catch a glimpse of those curly locks tucked over his shoulder, it all comes together and you snap your fingers in thought. "Paul!"

"Got me." Billy winks at you, unmoving and undisturbed as a couple people shuffle by him and you. The music has swelled and fallen to a soft hubbub of guitar from the host's stereo, which makes all the chatter, laughing, and cheering throughout the house sound that much louder in comparison. "Smart cookie. You know your stuff, huh?"

You just shrug, but the grin playing on your lips is unmistakable. You've been enjoying the game of watching and listening to the crowd rather than joining in, aside from a drink or two, but with a little liquid courage in your system and an hour of speaking very little, it's much more fun to entertain the likes of Billy with his pretty blue eyes and smooth, deep voice.

"So, Carrie--who's she? Prom queen by day, butcher by night?"

"You've never seen the movie?" You stand agape, half mocking shock and half real shock. You're struck practically speechless when he shakes his head, and informs you that he's never seen it nor read it. "Dude, you gotta get your life together! It's like--it's just--it's fuckin' awesome!"

Whoa, now you've really gotta pump the brakes. You're doing that thing again where you lose your shit the second someone mentions something you really like--you've nearly crushed the plastic cup in your hand and you're practically vibrating with excitement, plus you know those last few words came out way louder than intended. A couple heads turning to look your way is all it takes to give you that feeling of wanting to curl back into yourself, but it's so hard to help it. You just love horror so much, but it hadn't occurred to you that maybe your obsession is just a bit too weird for the people here.

"Fuckin' awesome, huh?" His tone is teasing, but not on the border of mockery or even close to it. He seems immune to your discomfort at first glance, but the way he moves a little closer, like he's subconsciously trying to shield you, might say otherwise. "What, you gonna leave me hanging? Tell me about it."

Oh. Your chest's tightening up, and your heart is knocking around inside it like a bouncy ball on linoleum. He's got no idea what he's just asked. Don't be too much. "Oh...it's, uh, it's okay. You don't have to, uh...w-we can talk about something else-"

"I wanna hear it." He interrupts, a smile working its way back across his face, and he leans in a little closer. "We can talk somewhere quiet. Get away from the crowd."

'Get away.' Code word for something else, you've been led to believe--this isn't your first party, and Billy isn't the first guy to come flirt with you. But you're not all that bothered, in fact....chatting a little bit about your favourite movies and getting some action with him doesn't sound like a bad deal. Cute, polite, and a little cheeky. Could definitely be worse, although you're not sure how long he'll be able to sit and listen to you talk when he's clearly got something more on his mind.

"I...yeah, that sounds fun. Uh, if I talk too much, you can stop me."

"I like listening to you. You've got a pretty voice." He's rubbing your arm, but keeping his hand level, keeping it away from anywhere else. Before he touched you, you had no idea how cold you were--and now that he is, you're shocked at how warm he is. "So I don't think it'll be a problem, sweetheart."

He whispers that into your ear, a strand of your blood-soaked hair caught in his fingers but not by accident. He pulls it back gently, tucks it out of the way of your face--and leaning in further, you suck in a breath so softly when he kisses you just below your ear. It's a soft spot nobody knows about, not that you ever realized it yourself....not until it's Billy that's teasing it with his teeth, and soothing the tender flesh with a flick of his tongue. All that escapes you is a soft hum, on the brink of a moan, but you manage to keep it in and keep it down to hold some modicum of decency.

"C'mon, Carrie," He draws his hand down the length of your arm, until he captures your wrist and delicately squeezes it while pulling you off the wall. Odds are you won't even notice the mark he left until tomorrow morning, when you're readying yourself in the mirror and gently prodding it with shaky fingers. "Let's go find somewhere to get to know each other."

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #ellie's halloween sentence starters #anons

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hanii-rose · 3 years ago

Text

Imagine Garou and you, married with lots of free time on your hands. So much free time in fact, that the two of you start to...experiment a bit, just to pass the time though. And one day, in between your passionate daytime make out sessions, he gently pushes you off of his lap and gets off the bed, opening up the closet to reach for something. It's your camera. Huh, what the...? What does he need a camera for?

He sets it up, tripod and all, in front of your bed. You watch him with confusion before realization finally dawns upon you.

And just like that, he took you, claimed you on tape for him to watch over and over. He thought you two looked so good, so so erotic. Even when his thrusts were rapid and excruciatingly rough, when his index and middle fingers were shoved down your throat, when he laid you on your side and fucked up into your sweet pussy from behind, the two of you looked so...in love. You especially...

Your expression of desire, loud moans and adorable mewls of satisfaction, spit-glossed lips open, brows knitted and eyes half lidded made him want to take you over and over, infinitely keep you caged between his arms. The shivers of your amazing climax matched with your perfect fucked out giggles, all of this obscenity, this carnal madness, this catastrophic act of filth...this love, he could review over and over until his appetite for you was satiated.

He was so lonely when you left for work, what else was he supposed to do? Workout? Been there, done that.

And when you come home from work the very next day, you find that the camera and the tripod are still there at the foot of your bed, red light blinking. And from behind you comes a powerful shove, pushing you down on your stomach and into your sheets. Large, trained hands reach around to struggle with your office blouse until they opt to just rip it open, tight black leggings harshly pulled off of your legs. Garou pulls your hair from behind with one hand and grasps your jaw with the other, connecting his hungry lips to yours. You immediately grasp the intention behind his actions and reciprocate the love he places on your mouth, parting your lips for him to spit into. He does so and the camera catches it perfectly.

He breathes in your scent, handsome nose pressed into your cheek as he ruins you, entering and exiting your cunt swiftly with no intention of stopping.

"Oh, Garou~"

You moan into the crook of his shoulder, loud enough for him to know what he's doing is right. Your moans push him into overdrive, coupled with the camera picking up every little twitch you make. He's so happy he can hardly restrain himself from battering your poor sopping pussy.

The two of you finish together, falling into bliss. You lazily rake your nails up his biceps and over his shoulders and down his sculpted back as he lovingly drinks up the spit from your tongue, sucking on it.

After that, the two of you fell into a sinful routine with that same old camera and the same beautiful sex.

Each time Garou watched the tapes, he couldn't stop believing just how...sensual they were, filled with hot, frantic fucking and equal amounts of alluring love. He held the camera in his hands, sweating with ecstasy as his eyes absorbed the lewd material he had produced. This was amazing. It was art! A masterpiece!

And his mind had struck a thought. A very sexy, very lecherous thought...

Garou's skilled fingers typed away at your laptop as you sat next to him eyeing the screen in front of you. You instructed him on what to type and enter on the page and once all was said and done, Garou took hold of the mouse and clicked 'sign up'.

You now had a brand new Pornhub account. One by one, Garou posted the videos that the two of you had made together, giving them the most indecent titles and tagging them with phrases you were unfamiliar with. You were surprised to see how much more pornographic he could make the videos seem.

Before you knew it, Garou and amassed you with almost 120,000 subscribers, some willing to pay money to watch you be fucked stupid by your husband. And Garou took heavy pride in the fact that strangers online were jealous of how well he made love to you.

'I wish I was the guy fucking her...'

'I'd give that girl anything she'd want just so she'd sit on my face.'

'She takes that dick so well. That guy is so fucking lucky...'

'I wish my boyfriend would do this to me.'

Everytime Garou read through the crude messages in the comments, he couldn't help but read them aloud to you. He liked the way you bashfully squirmed everytime he read a comment that praised you. He loves you so much...

'stupid pretty wife comes home and gets fucked and filled by mean husband'

'husband makes love to his beautiful wife'

'sensuous fucking with sweet wife'

'brutal destruction of whore wife's pussy'

'stupid bitch begs for husband to give her his kids'

'amazing blowjob given by adorable slut'

'POV: blow your loads on my wife's pretty face'

'watch me make my wife cry'

These were just some of the videos the two of you had created and uploaded. But Garou knew that there was so much more you could do together...

I know I've been gone for a really long time but I'm trying to get back into the habit of writing again. I missed this so much. It's ain't much but it's honest work.

I wrote this at 3:00 A.M. lol that's why it's so short but I couldn't wait to write it.

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daevastanner · 3 years ago

Text

Fatherly Love

Gwynriel introduce Catrin to their family

Hold onto your ovaries

“Gwyn, look at me.”

Gwyn turned away from her reflection in the vanity mirror, swiveling on her stool as she secured her second pearling earring.

She looked up at her mate who stood before her, their two month old daughter cradled in one arm, while the other gestured to himself limply. Her eyes grazed him. From his neatly tousled dark hair to his midnight jacket and trousers, looking for whatever he was trying to draw her attention to.

He looked dashing as ever. Even with the shadows beneath his eyes from being up all night with Catrin yesterday. Though speaking of shadows, Azriel’s seemed to be caressing his arms soothingly. As though trying to comfort him.

“You look very handsome. Hardly as Solstice festive as Catrin,” she grinned, nodding at their daughter who was donning a snowy white blanket. “But handsome nonetheless.”

“But do I look like a father?” Azriel asked, hazel eyes imploring.

Gwyn’s lips curved up in a warm smile. “Yes. You look very fatherly.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, then approached the vanity, bending at the waist to inspect his own reflection.

He sighed, brows furrowing. “Liar. I look like an angel of death.”

Gwyn snorted. “Az—“

“Here, take Catrin,” he said, passing their daughter to her. “I’m changing.”

Catrin yawned hugely, nuzzling into Gwyn’s green knit sweater. She wondered how long she would remain so well behaved. They’d likely pay for all her sleeping tonight when they tried to go to bed.

“Shadowsinger,” Gwyn called, rising from her stool and pacing their bedroom, rocking Catrin in her arms, “how does one ‘look like a father?’”

“I don’t know,” he replied. Gwyn heard the rustle of clothing being discarded in their closet, as Azriel no doubt began to rifle through his wardrobe. “But Cassian and Rhysand pull it off somehow. You look like a mother.”

Gwyn’s chest pinched at the words, one of her fingers lifting to brush a dark tuft of Catrin’s feathery hair. “Thank you?”

“It’s a compliment. Trust me.” She heard him growl with irritation. “Somehow I can’t manage to look like a parent. I look like a Spymaster that’s glamoured a dagger to appear as a babe.”

Before Gwyn could summon a teasing reply, the shadowsinger emerged from the closet donning a gold tunic with silver embroidery. “Is this… fatherly?”

Gwyn grimaced. “Is that the tunic Mor gave you for your birthday?”

Azriel looked at his arms, sneering at the fabric. “You’re right. It’s hideous.” Then he vanished back into the closet. “Any suggestions?”

Gwyn smiled to herself. Despite his distress, it was really quite adorable to see her shadowsinger so obsessed with “looking like a father.” Precious really. The dagger-wielding spymaster was so troubled that upon seeing their family for the first time since Catrin was born he wouldn’t look like the doting father he had become. The one who sang lullabies. Who when he was spit up on, gingerly patted his daughter’s back and said “well done, Cat.” The same male who got endless amusement when their daughter burped loudly.

“Be yourself, Shadowsinger, and the father in you will shine through.”

He poked his head out of the closet, giving Gwyn a stern look. “Stop talking like a priestess and give me some real advice.”

Gwyn snickered at that. “Fine. Well, you can’t go wrong with a sweater.”

“I know the one,” Azriel said resolutely, vanishing yet again.

Sitting down on the edge of their bed, Gwyn smiled to herself and bent her neck to inhale Catrin’s scent. Cedar. Sea salt. Ginger. A little bit of Gwyn. A little bit of Azriel. She was perfect in every way and Gwyn couldn’t wait to show her off to their whole family tonight. The cutest babe of the entire family. More than Nesta and Cassian’s twins. More than Feyre and Rhysand’s new toddler.

“How’s this?”

Gwyn looked up to see Azriel in the fuzziest white sweater she’d ever laid eyes on. When had he even come into possession of this? She made a mental note to hide it as soon as he took it off.

Gwyn blanched and Azriel frowned. “It matches Catrin’s blanket. And it’s a sweater.”

“White is not your color, Shadowsinger…”

“I can’t wear black!” Azriel groaned, motioning to himself bleakly. “I’m meant to be—“

“A father,” Gwyn finished with a smirk. “I know. So wear that navy cable-knit sweater in the back of the closet. Easy.”

Azriel snapped a finger at her. “Brilliant. Yes. The navy.”

A moment later Azriel emerged from the closet clad in dark trousers and the navy sweater Feyre had gifted him the previous Solstice. Gwyn gave an approving nod, but the shadowsinger still confronted his reflection in the long oval mirror on the closet door, hazel eyes shrewd with scrutiny.

“Catrin, doesn’t your father look so fatherly?” Gwyn asked the still snoozing babe in her arms. She inclined her head, her ear beside Catrin’s lips. “What’s that?”

Azriel turned to face them, brows high with amusement.

Gwyn grinned. “He looks like the most fatherly father to ever father?” Her teal eyes roved him from top to bottom. “I agree. He does. Not lethal in the slightest.”

Azriel’s shadows danced along his arms, and her mate had the clarity to look slightly abashed. He rubbed the back of his neck, approaching Gwyn then taking a seat beside her on the bed.

He ran a hand down his face. “I know I'm being ridiculous.” A wry smile. “It’s just important to me that I look… compassionate. You know?”

“I know,” Gwyn confirmed, handing Catrin over to him. “But you do. No matter what you wear.”

Azriel snorted in disbelief, a scarred finger tracing the outline of Catrin’s chin as she settled into his arms.

“Just the way you look at her, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn said softly. “If you could see how your eyes light up…”

A blush stole his cheeks, and he pressed a tender kiss to Catrin’s forehead.

“Do you remember when you were worried because you didn’t know how to be a mate? Or a husband?” Gwyn asked, a smile in her voice.

Azriel chuckled quietly at the memory. Weeks before their ceremony he’d confessed to her that he was concerned people would look at them together and see a monster who’d stolen an angel. That they’d see an assassin and a lady. That they’d see a male undeserving and too dark for someone made of light. Gwyn had tried to talk sense into him but it was Cassian who convinced him in the end.

“You may not wear your heart on your sleeve, brother,” Cassian had said, “but around Gwyn it is only too obvious how much you love her. And how much she loves you back. That’s all that matters.”

Remembering his words, Gwyn decided to try them herself. “If you don’t believe me, that just the way you look at Catrin makes it apparent you’re a doting father, then you should think about the way she looks at you.”

Azriel didn’t look up from Catrin’s sleeping face, but something flickered in his eyes. Something warm. So Gwyn continued.

“How when you come home she claps her hands,” Gwyn said, her head falling on his shoulder. “Or how when you sing to her she falls straight asleep. Or how when she cries, all she has to do is be placed in her Papa’s arms and she gives you that toothless smile.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed and Gwyn looked up to see his eyes were lined with silver. “Just wait till they see you cross your eyes for her. Wait till they see the silly faces her dadda makes.” She kissed his cheek. “And don’t get me started on all the voices you do when you read her a story…”

“You’re the one who suggested that,” he said gruffly.

“You’re a much better performer than me though, Shadowsinger. I could never achieve your Blue Bear voice.”

Azriel laughed wetly. Then his expression became somber. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever have this. A mate, a child, a family of my own.” He swallowed hard. “And now that I do… I just want to be my best.”

Gwyn released a quiet breath. She’d worried he was going to spew some garbage about “not deserving them.” An insecurity they’d conquered long ago. And while worrying about being his best was still ridiculous, it wasn’t nearly as insurmountable as his lack of self worth.

“Look at me, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn said, lifting her head and cupping his chin. She turned his face to look at her, and when his gaze met hers she felt her heart pinch at the longing in his eyes. “You are. You are absolutely your best. All the time.” She pecked his lips gently. “And everyone can see that.”

Azriel exhaled a shuddering breath. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “Ready, then?”

“Ready.”

Azriel walked into the river house, Catrin in one arm, their satchel of diapers, milk, and toys slung over his other shoulder. Gwyn shut the door behind them with her foot, her hands currently occupied with the gifts they’d brought along. A meager supply this year as most of their time and funds had been devoted to Catrin.

Out of the foyer and down the hall, warm light glowed from the parlor, the buzzing of conversation began ringing in Azriel’s ears. This was it. The grand presentation of Azriel and Gwyn as a mother and father. And while Azriel had admired his mate, cradling their daughter and poking her nose and appearing as the picture of motherly love, he was hard pressed to see himself in such a light. Even with Gwyn’s convincing and coaxing before they’d left.

That icy sensation spread through his chest. Azriel’s shadows whispered words of comfort as his demons came calling.

Then a steadying brush against his shoulder. Azriel looked over to see Gwyn leaning against him, beaming. “Ready, Papa?”

The ice thawed. The demons quieted.

And Catrin cooed restlessly.

Azriel’s gaze immediately snapped to his daughter who yawned and opened her big teal eyes. She pursed her tiny lips and Azriel smiled. Whenever she woke up he always thought she looked like Gwyn. Surprised and mildly aggravated.

Upon observing her father’s expression, Catrin’s lips curved up in a toothless smile and Azriel nearly swooned in response. All traces of anxiety and insecurity vanishing.

“Come on, Shadowsinger,” Gwyn whispered. “Let’s show her off.”

He hummed in agreement and they started for the parlor together.

Azriel’s feet carried him faster than he’d thought. One moment he was in the dimly lit hallway, trailing behind his mate, and the next he was in the parlor.

Every head turned in his direction. Every eye fixed on the cooing babe nestled into the crook of his arm.

But Catrin didn’t look away from her father’s face. She instead removed her hands from the confines of her blanket and extended her chubby arms. Azriel’s shadows leaned down, weaving in between her little fingers. Catrin gurgled happily in response.

Azriel’s chest tightened to the point of pain and he had to blink back the tears stinging his eyes.

“Look at you two!” Nesta said, rushing over to them. She peered down at Catrin who was still enamored with her father’s shadows as they took on the form of a small cat and danced through the air. “Oh, Az, she’s got your smile.”

Azriel’s eyes shifted to Nesta, and at the sincerity in her smile he found himself teetering on the losing side of the battle with his tears.

Nesta’s smile became teasing. “Does she have your wingspan to match?”

Azriel chuckled. “They’re actually on the more fragile side, according to the healer. So they have to remain wrapped for several more weeks.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Emerie said, coming to join Nesta. “They’ll get stronger with a little Valkyrie training, won’t they?”

Catrin hiccuped a laugh as the shadow cat pranced across her chest then disappeared. Her attention turned to Emerie and she smiled so wide at the Illyrian female that her teal eyes crinkled.

Emerie gasped. “Mor, I want one now!”

“I want to see!” Morrigan said, bounding across the parlor to come peer down at Catrin. She clasped her hands together. “Oh, Gwyn, she has your eyes!”

“I know!” Gwyn called from where she was depositing their gifts beneath the Solstice tree.

“I want her to have her mother’s freckles too,” Azriel interjected, voice rough with emotion.

Hearing him speak, Catrin looked back at her father. He met her eyes and she screamed gleefully, spit spraying and snot dribbling from her nose. Azriel snickered, pulling his sleeve over his fist to wipe Catrin’s face clean.

So absorbed in his daughter, Azriel missed the adoring murmurs of his family.

Although, he thought his heart may cleave in two when he heard Rhysand remark to Gwyn from where they stood beside the tree: “It looks good on him. Fatherhood.”

There was an affectionate tug on the bond and Azriel swallowed down his tears, taking a moment to smile at his mate. She smiled back at him.

All Gwyn said back to Rhys was, “I know.”

#gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #gwyn and azriel #gwynriel supremacy #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #ao3 #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #dadriel #Azriel and Gwyn parents #gwynriel parents #Catrin Berdara

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drewstcrkey · 3 years ago

Text

Want You To Need Me : Rafe Cameron

Request : How about midsummers with rafe where the reader is fixing his tie before going out and there’s just so much tension between them because neither of them have confessed their feelings for each other? I hope it’s not too much!! Pairing : rafe x kook!reader Word Count : 1k+ Author's Note : This is short, i know, but i wanted to dip my toes into the writing pool instead of just jumping head in. The next piece i write will be much longer xx

Midsummers was an occasion your parents, namely your mother, often harped on. It was a coming out party, of sorts, at least that's how she made you treat it each and every year. For the last several years you've arrived to the party with the same date. Whether he was entertaining a girl at the time or not, it was known around the Outer Banks that each and every year Y/N and Rafe Cameron would go together. It was simply just the way things were and you loved it - cherished it almost. Despite others opinions the eldest Cameron has and will very likely stay one of your favorite people on this side of the Mississippi. He has been your best friend for as long as the two of you could remember.

“Are you two finally going to make it official tonight?” your mother questions you as she runs around her room, perfecting her appearance.

“Make what official?” you scoff, “we’re just friends,” you remind her but the look on her face says that she knows better.

“Y/N, sweetie, i know you don't think i know anything about kids your age but you and the Cameron boy are not just friends," her tone almost sounding like a warning.

Your mom was not the only one to ever make comments about you and Rafe. You often had to fight off Topper, Sarah, and Kelce on a weekly basis about the two of you. It was as if everyone around you knew something you didn't and it made you crazy. Almost as crazy as when your best friend looked at you and you had to push away the urge to tell him about how there is no one on earth who could make you feel the way he does.

---

“Stop fidgeting,” you grumble, dropping your hands from his lifeless tie draped around his neck.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, standing tall with his ever present sly smile displayed across his lightly tanned skin. His eyes dropping down to look at your dainty fingers now back to working their magic on his tie. He’d picked it out to perfectly match the pink dress that hugged your figure perfectly. He’d admired the dress when you’d first showed up at Tanneyhill. He complimented your choice, shoving the words you look like the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen into the back of his mind and just simply focusing on the dress itself.

“Perfect,” your hands patting his chest, a satisfactory look washing over your face at his now perfectly tied bow tie . Rafe doesn’t say anything though and your brows furrow. Looking up to find him not assessing your work but instead just staring at you. If you didn’t know better you’d think his gaze made your heart skip a beat, but of course that was impossible. Friends don't make your heart flutter.

“W-what?” you whisper, your words not breaking the trance he was seemingly stuck in. His ocean blue eyes fixated on your own. “Rafe…” your voice is almost inaudible now as your cheeks flush a bright red.

“Y/N…” Rafe’s voice is raspy from the lack of speaking he’s done. He quickly shakes his head, as if to shake away a thought rummaging through his mind.

“Yes?” your voice is small, and now you are guilty of being in some sort of trance. Eyes taking in every inch of the face of the boy in front of you. Whatever he says next sounds of white noise behind your ongoing thoughts. Why was he so handsome? Why did the way he always asked you to do little things for him make your heart flutter with a satisfaction that he needed you? Why did you want him to need you?

“Y/N/N”, scratching behind his ear, not quite sure what to do at the moment. You finally pay attention to him saying your name, you now giving the same shake to your head as he had previously. “You ready to go out there?” his hand resting on your hip an innocent action, that secretly shot chills through both of your bodies at once. You give a small nod as he starts toward the door, the only barrier between the two of you and everyone else at the party.

“Wait,” you wrap your fingers around his wrist, making him come to a halt. He looks back at you, worry flashing through his eyes.

“What’s up, Y/N?” he questions. Rafe examines your face to see what’s going on before you could even say anything, but he comes up with nothing.

“I, um... i don’t know,” you shrug, eyes glancing over to the door then back at your best friend.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, now taking your hands in his. His touch was comforting and as of recently has become something you longed for, even in small gestures like this. Rafe felt the same, although he’d never admit such a thing to you. “Talk to me, Y/N,” his voice grew slightly frustrated, but he was always good at covering his frustration with a soft look when it came to you.

“You look good,” you say, “very handsome, tonight,” you correct yourself as your eyes admire his appearance. Rafe looks at you with a cheesy grin, your compliment meaning more to him than he was willing to let you know, in the moment.

“I know,” a sly smile replacing the former grin. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his ridiculous arrogance at times. “All thanks to the work my date put into finishing up my look,” he continues. “She’s kind of an angel,” he leans in as if he were about to tell you a secret, “she looks like one too.” Your smile grows, as the two of you make your way towards the doors to the party. Your head leaning on his shoulder for just a second and he places a soft kiss on the top of your head.

It’s not spoken but at this moment the two of you have a silent understanding, there is more to the two of you than just friendship.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks x reader

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softyoongiionly · 4 years ago

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Power Trip

You and Jungkook make a bet to see who can last the longest in bed.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

Warnings: explicit smut, oral (f receiving), spit, swearing, fingering, Jungkook

A/N: If I ever tell you I don’t have a bias wrecker, call me a liar. Also this one is for @bulletproofbirdy, I hope Jungkook can lift your spirits. I love you so much! also, this unedited cause im the worst :D This can be read in the same universe as my fic Press Start btw!

He smirks, “You really wanna go there?”

You shrug, “I’m just saying- I know I can last longer than you can, that’s all.”

At this, his brows raise as a short and unimpressed laugh leaves his lips, “What led you to that conclusion?”

From the opposite end of the couch, you feel him staring at you. His competitive nature is simple minded and easily baited into situations where it’s able to prove itself; Jungkook simply cannot resist a challenge.

“I mean-” You bite your lip, “You are usually begging me to cum at some point...”

His smirk only broadens, “Oh? And you think I do that for my benefit?”

Oh.

Staring into his eyes, the two of you regard one another for a moment, sexual tension floating aimlessly in the air above you.

“I want you to consider the fact that you’re looking your fiancé in the eye and, telling her that you’re faking something in bed...”

Jungkook finally laughs at that, his head falling back on his shoulders momentarily, “Whoa whoa whoa- I never said I was faking it, I just said I wasn’t doing it for my benefit. I beg you to cum because, I know you like it- not because I can’t control myself.”

“Oh so it isn’t that you’re faking it- it's just not as good as you make it out to be...” You clarify, voice loaded with sarcasm, “That’s so much better.”

Jungkook clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth, “You know that isn’t what I'm saying...”

You cross your arms, trying your best not to notice how good your fiancé looks lit up by candlelight, “No actually, I don’t know that.”

He knows he needs to choose his next words carefully because, this conversation can go one of two ways. One, the two of you spend an undetermined amount of time tangled up in one another and two, he ends up in the doghouse.

“Well you should-” He insists, “Because I don’t lie. I’ve told you that you’re the best I’ve ever had and, I meant that. All I’m saying is that I can make you cum first- and that has nothing to do with how good you are. It's just how bad I want to make you cum...”

You feel your lips twitch, “Even if that very convenient explanation were true- it doesn’t change the fact that I can last longer than you...”

Jungkook chuckles finally and the sound of it sends a shiver up your spine. He jerks his chin towards you, “You wanna bet?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip as you feel your heartbeat increase slightly, “What are your terms?”

He shrugs but his palms are already itching with the desire to touch you, “Who ever cums first loses...”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, nudging your foot against his leg, “Yeah I got that part but, how are we going to do this?

Again he shrugs but this time the smirk creeps back onto his mouth, “Oh well- if you’re asking that, this really isn’t going to be a fair fight...”

He’s such a little shit.

Your lips part with shock whilst your eyes blink owlishly at him before you decide that you’ve had enough of his attitude. Flipping the covers over your head, you work your way across the couch until you’re positioned between Jungkook’s legs. He snickers when you maneuver the covers over your head, doing his best to assist you until you’re finally free from the endless swath of blankets.

“H-” Jungkook opens his mouth to make another comment but, your lips stop him from doing so.

You’re irritated with his goading but, you know that you can’t just start roughly making out with him in order to turn him on; you have to take things slowly.

Situated atop the seam of his grey sweatpants, you press your hips down carefully whilst you kiss him. He’s lost in your mouth the moment he feels it, his fingers coming up to brush over the apples of your cheeks. They encase your face moments later and, you make a conscious effort to ignore how good this is. He tastes like the sweet mint mouthwash he uses but, the rest of him smells like amber and vanilla.

Outdoing Jungkook is so much easier said than done.

But what you don’t know is that he isn’t fairing much better.

The softness of your lips and the tiniest instabilities in your breath are going straight to his dick. His hands find themselves sliding at a snail-like pace up the backs of your thighs and, god he can’t help himself as he grips at the flesh there. He always says he would die happily in between your thighs and even though you laugh, he’s dead serious. They are so perfect.

Deep in the trenches of his muscular chest, he groans when you grind against him. His breath coming out much shakier through his nose before he finally pulls away,

“Bedroom?”

You hum, pecking his at his mouth again, “What about it?”

Jungkook smacks your ass suddenly and just as you yelp, he’s recapturing your lips all over again. Only this time, he starts leaning you backwards towards the couch and it’s many blankets.

“Do you want it here?” He breathes, “There isn’t a lot of room...”

He’s right.

The couch is good for cuddling and making out but, actual sex is usually out of the question- especially when it’s so cold in your house.

Moments later, Jungkook is throwing the massive pile of blankets onto your bed and, just as he’s about to climb up there, you stop him by cupping his face in your hands. Your grip is gentle and your lips follow suit, plucking against his minty mouth. In the midst of kissing him, you reach behind his head, feeling around for the scrunchie holding up his mane of hair. Once you locate it, you carefully pull back until his pretty face is curtained with ebony tendrils.

He doesn’t question your decision. In fact, there isn’t much Jungkook would question right now. His attention is on you and, your deadly assault on his composure. When he feels your fingers tuck into his hair, he realizes he’s beginning to forget the reason why he needs his composure in the first place.

“You’re so handsome,” You whisper, “like a prince...”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at your comment whilst his hands reach out to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against him. His palms travel up your back, cursing the thick fabric of your hoodie for being in the way. He knows it’s practical but, he doesn’t care. He wants to touch you.

“I’m cold-” You pout into his mouth, “Can we get in bed?”

He returns your pout and nudges your nose before reluctantly removing his hands from your back, “Yeah...let’s go.”

Jungkook unturns the winter duvet you have on your bed and, lays the pillows down flat, gesturing to the empty space which then causes you to shoot him an apprehensive look,

“It’s going to be so cold.” You whine and the sound if it forces Jungkook’s lips into a fond smile- completely against his will.

“I’ll get in first-” He assures you and just before he flops onto the sheets, he yanks his hoodie and t-shirt over his head. The presence of his body alone is a defeat to all other men you’ve been with. The tan skin, the tattoos, the softness of him reminding you that he is a walking example of duality...

It’s a lot.

But you have to stay focused and, when he settles onto the mattress and pats the empty space beside him, you waste no time in returning to your earlier mission.

“C’mere...” He mumbles once you’re beside him, his voice deep with arousal.

The two of you resume your kiss and, this time there is a bit more urgency in the way he moves against you. He nudges your nose as he introduces his tongue into your mouth. Pulling away slightly, he continues moving his tongue along the length of yours until the two of you are properly French kissing one another.

It’s sloppier than his usual style but, you aren’t complaining; he tastes amazing. And the way he’s licking into your mouth reminds you of what his mouth feels like when it’s elsewhere-

“I used to see people in porn kiss like this-” He whispers, “I never understood the appeal of sucking on someone’s tongue until I met you...” With his admission, he does just that, taking the tip of your muscle between his lips.

Mouth open around the entirety of his, you grip his biceps as he continues to suck on your tongue. If it were anyone else, this would feel awkward and sloppy but with Jungkook, it’s so unbelievably hot. He’s working his way over you until his tattooed arms are settled on either side of your head. Rolling his body downward, he presses his hardening dick right against the seam of your leggings. He pulls off of your tongue then and resumes kissing you normally, his lips are wetter and there’s so much spit involved in this kiss but, you couldn’t care less.

You wanted all of him.

Jungkook uses the strength and control he has over his body to grind against your aching core with precision, the curve of his dick sliding sinfully onto your neglected clit. Even as the pleasure begins to drown out the logical side of your brain, you desperately try to remind yourself that you are still in the middle of a bet.

“You feel so good-” You make sure to play up the whimper that leaves your lips whilst your nails begin at his wrists and slowly drag up the bulging muscles on his arms.

His dick twitches in his sweatpants and, you take that as an opportunity to wrap your legs around his hips. The strength of his arms gives out then as he opts to rest on his elbows instead. He’s still kissing you but now the two of you are grinding against one another as if you were fucking.

“Yeah?” He smirks against your mouth, “Good enough to cum on me?”

His attitude returns causing you to dig your nails into arms. You pull away from his mouth and shoot him a look of determination, “In your dreams...”

He snickers, sounding rather cute for a man who is literally throbbing between your legs. He licks his lips as he stares down at you for a moment, cocking his head to the side, “My dreams...” He clarifies before kissing his teeth, “I guess you’re right ah? If this were a dream of mine, you would have already came all over my tongue...”

His words make you bite your lip, your hips involuntarily curving up towards his. He snickers again, leaning away when you try to reconnect your lips, “You always tell me to go for my dreams though, don’t you baby?”

At the moment, Jungkook’s voice would be unrecognizable to anyone else but, you. It’s so deep and raspy and, only thickens as he gets more and more turned on.

“I will cum on your tongue,” You murmur suddenly, pecking his lips, “after you cum inside of me.”

This time, it’s Jungkook who retaliates with movement, his hips rolling down at a sinful depth, causing your clit to throb with anticipation.

He lets out a breathe from between his lips whilst he shakes his head, his dark eyes flitting down to where you’re connected before returning to your face.

“It’s so much better when I cum in you after I’ve eaten you out though-” He insists with a pout that would look innocent if this were any other scenario, “If you hold it after what I’m about to do to you, then I’ll let you have a turn with me- sound good?”

He’s so fucking cocky sometimes, it makes you want to scream. However, this wouldn’t be much of a bet if the two of you just had sex; you know that you’d have to let him touch you properly at some point, even if it would be devastating to your odds of winning.

“You’re going to cheat- I can literally feel it in my bones...”

Jungkook chuckles and slowly begins his descent down towards the ache between your legs. When he gets to your stomach, he carefully peels up your hoodie to expose the band of your leggings. He kisses along the skin there with gentle and unhurried movements, licking once just below your belly button and smirking as he hears the giggle that tumbles from your lips. Sitting up slightly, you watch as he hooks his fingers underneath the black fabric and peels it back until he’s working it down your legs. Jungkook knows that you don’t wear underwear with these pants, especially not around the house- but it doesn’t stop him from biting his lip at the sight of your bare pussy anyway.

Jungkook gently pries your legs apart and, you find yourself biting your lip when the cold air from the bedroom weaves its way onto your swollen, wet folds. You already want to tell him to stop- not because you don’t want it but, because you are severely doubting your ability to last.

That doubt only increases when Jungkook settles onto his stomach and positions his mouth at the apex of your right knee, “You really do have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen...” He says this as he starts sponging his lips up your inner thigh, his eyes looking straight up at you, “Did you know that?”

With your breath increasing, you do your best to remain calm as he nears your lips but, it’s so hard when he’s intentionally saying all the things you want to hear.

But two can play at that game...

“You think so? I try to keep it all pretty for you...” The tone of your voice takes him off guard a little bit but, he isn’t complaining.

He secretly relishes in the moments that you’re soft towards him; so much of your relationship is banter and, constantly trying to get on eachothers nerves.

Jungkooks starts at the other knee then, kissing his way back down towards your center, “You don’t ever-” He bites down and then pulls back, “ever, have to try to be pretty jagi. You just are.”

The sensation of his teeth causes you to jump, your movements coaxing a chuckle from Jungkook’s throat.

He kisses his teeth, “Easy.” He teases with a smirk, his mouth finally hovering of your pussy.

“Sorry-” You murmur coyly, licking your lips, “I just want your mouth so bad.”

Jungkook is about to lick up the length of you but, he stops at your confession and kisses the top of your pussy instead, “You do huh?”

It’s not really like you to plead for him as usually things are quite playful in the bedroom and, as you mentioned earlier: it’s usually him who’s begging.

Nodding, you reach down for his fingers, lacing them with your own as you dial up the sweetness in your tone to 100%, “Please? Can I have it? I’m so wet for you Jungkook- it hurts...”

The moisture leaves his mouth when you say his name. He’s never heard you quite like this before and, it’s driving him crazy.

He wants to give you everything.

“Whatever you want baby- I'm right here...” He mumbles against your skin, kissing the top of your cunt once more before shooting a somewhat intense glance your way, “...and I’ll make sure you give me what I want in return.”

With that, he licks up the length of you, collecting all of your arousal in middle of his tongue before drinking you in as best as he can. The feeling of his mouth finally meeting your cunt is enough to make your hips jerk from the bed. He takes that as a sign to wrap his inked arms around your body to hold you in place as he gets to work on you.

He uses the tip of his tongue to gather as much of your wetness as possible, groaning ever so softly when the taste of you graces his tastebuds. His hands are resting on your stomach but, he uses his thumbs to pull your pussy taut so he has better access. Your clit is amply exposed now allowing him to tease his languid muscle against it, the sensations making you dizzy.

You can feel your nipples hardening to the point of discomfort when he suckles the sensitive bud into his mouth. He only does it for a second before settling for laving his tongue up and down your clit. Breathing heavily, you tug up your hoodie to expose the rest of your upper half, your hands going straight for your neglected nipples.

“Fuck-”

You hear him curse and look down just in time to see that although his mouth is busy working on your pussy, his eyes are locked onto you.

And you take advantage of that, pinching your nipples you say, “Your tongue feels so good, no-” You let your breath catch on the end of the sentence, “nobody does it like you Jungkook...”

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment and, he looks like he’s like he’s in pain. But suddenly, he moves hands from your stomach and, grips the outside of your thighs- pulling your legs apart and pushing them up. With your knees up in the air and your pussy spread completely open, Jungkook quickens the pace of his tongue on your clit. Licking over it with a consistent pace that your fiancé knows all too well, you feel the pit of your stomach begin to grow in preparation for your orgasm.

You need to act fast...

Letting out the tiniest whimper, you reach down towards his hand again and grip onto one of his fingers, “Can I have your fingers please? I need you to fuck me so bad baby- please? I’m so close...”

Jungkook’s eyes are blackened with pure lust, his lips still kissing and licking at your clit as he moves his hand, somewhat hesitantly towards your dripping cunt. He looks so torn but, you can’t completely figure out why, but you have a feeling.

He licks your clit once more as he lines his index finger up at your entrance. You can see how wet his mouth has become when he pulls away slightly to watch his digit disappear inside of you. Immediately, your pussy clenches around his finger, sucking it in with desperation. Jungkook groans as his eyes squeeze shut again but, he manages to return his lips to your clit, resuming his earlier motions.

The pleasure from by his dual movements is causing your entire body to ache with need. You don’t think you can hold back your orgasm much longer, not with his finger quickening it’s pace inside you. Surrender is on the horizon; if you aren’t going to win this bet- you may as well just enjoy yourself.

“Can you fuck me faster Jungkook?” You moan, licking your lips and rubbing your fingertips over your nipples, “You’re making me feel so good...you’re so strong.”

And faster he goes but, he only maintains the pace long enough for you to whimper one more time before he suddenly pulls away. The loss of contact shocks and disappoints and, you’re about to protest until you notice what’s going on.

Jungkook is sat back on his knees, lips wet with your arousal, nipple hardened with his own and, grey sweatpants stained with precum. He’s taking a deep breath through his nose, his hair hanging in his face whilst he looks down towards his dick.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You murmur, sitting up.

The promise of an orgasm is slowly fading but, the concern flooding your mind distracts you easily.

He shakes his head, “No no- I'm good. I just uh-”

Jungkook’s hand moves quickly, cupping over his dick and prompting another deep but shaky breath from his chest.

And then it clicks...

“Wait-” A grin spreads across your lips, “Were you about to cum?”

“No.”

But he won’t look up at you, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he presses his hand down even harder.

“Jungkook-” You get up on your knees, your chest blooming with pride as you crawl across the bed towards him, “Were you about to cum?”

When you ask him again, there is a bit of laughter at the end of your sentence that causes him to shoot a glare your way.

“You were cheating...”

A sharp giggle leaves your throat, “I was cheating??? The bet was to see who could last longer and, you literally just pulled away before you were going to cum.”

Jungkook smirks, “You were fucking cheating.” He insists, “With that fucking voice of yours and your hands all over your tits; don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

He doesn’t swear often but when he does, it always gets to you. His voice his so husky now and that paired with the rest of his visuals is enough to force you into your next move.

Suddenly, you grip his chin and angle his upwards, “Admit that you were going to cum.”

His eyes widen then, that familiar doe eyed look infecting his gaze; it’s the same look he always gives you when you take charge.

But as much as he loves to submit to you, he almost hates losing more.

Almost.

“No...”

Your teeth find your lip again as you smirk, your other hand sliding down his flushed chest towards his throbbing cock, “Admit that you were going to cum baby, so we can put you out of your misery...”

He shakes his head and although his hand twitches at his side, he makes no move to stop you, “I wasn’t, I was just-”

You cock your head, your hand tucking beneath the band of his sweats, “You were just what?”

As he feels your hand encase his dick he crumbles, his whole body slumping forward, “Fuck-”

His forehead is on your shoulder now, his stomach caving in as you begin stroking his cock. You can feel how hard he is now, his length jumping in your hand, the tip of him covered in precum...

Your lips are at his ear whilst he bears his teeth, “Admit that you were going to cum sweetheart- and then I’ll let you put it inside me...”

“No-” He growls, “You were cheating, I- ugh...” He whimpers, his teeth sinking into the ball of your shoulder when you quicken your pace on him.

You giggle, turning your head to the side so your lips are at his ear, “What a shame- you're going to waste all of this cum on your pants when you could be pumping it inside of me...”

Jungkook groans, his teeth nipping at your shoulder once more, “Let me cum inside of you please- wanna fuck you so bad...”

You’re focusing your hand on the tip of his cock, massaging it within your grip and, at this point- Jungkook is leaking so much precum, you aren’t sure if he managed to sneak in his orgasm without notice.

“You can fuck me when you admit that I won.” You nibble on his ear, “That’s all you have to do baby- then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“But I wasn’t going to cum-” He still insists, his voice more of a whine now his hands desperately going for your hips.

Pouting your lips, you increase your pace on him for the final time, the sound of you jerking him off filling the room, “Well you definitely are now, aren’t you?”

“Fucking- fuck me...” He moans, his nails digging into your sides whilst his hips jerk up against your hand, “Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum...”

The admission is involuntarily as he paints your hand and the inside of his sweatpants with the his hot release, cumming all over himself.

“Mm there it is- that wasn’t so hard was it?” You tease with a bit of laughter as you stroke him through his release.

He lets out a shaky breath, moaning again as the rest of it comes out but, before you’re even able to process what’s happening, his using the grip he has on your hips to shove you back against the bed. Your back hits the sheets as your eyes widen and despite his sweatpants being stained and his dick throbbing with sensitivity, Jungkook is prying your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance.

“Ju-” You begin but he cuts you off as he pushes inside of you. The thickness of him is so perfect and your pussy swallows him whole, unable to get enough. Through your efforts to tease him you had forgotten how close he had gotten you but, he was about to remind you exactly what he was capable of.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth-” He growls, his eyes piercing into yours, his swollen lips curved into a smirk, “Unless it’s please,” He thrusts, causing a whimper to leave your lips, “Thank you,” Thrust, “Or Jungkook...”

His pace is fast but it’s completely perfect and, it isn’t long until your orgasm comes crashing into your body, the pleasure peaking as he fucks you harder.

“J- Jungkook- Oh god....” You moan, reaching down to rub at your clit, which only spurs you on further, “Oh my god...”

He chuckles darkly through bared teeth, his sweaty tendrils of hair jerking back and forth with his motions, “I guess I’ll settle for god too...”

Leaning down, he hovers over you as you continue to cum and despite the smirk on his face, he presses his lips to yours sweetly- kissing you through the rest of your orgasm.

He lets up the intensity inside of you, for both your sake and his, slowly allowing his hips to come to a stop. With destroyed breathing patterns, the two of you kiss each other for a while longer until he makes the painful decision to pull out of you. Still kissing at your lips, he slumps over beside you, blindly pulling at the duvet to cover your shivering bodies.

“I love you.” He chuckles boyishly, completely giddy from your encounter.

The sound of his laughter makes you smile into the kiss, “I love you too.”

He brings you closer to him so that he can hold you, his lips moving to press against different parts of your face.

Laying on his chest, you feel content as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

After a few moment of post orgasmic bliss, Jungkook whispers,

“ Jagi?” He mumbles to which you respond by humming, “I was definitely about to cum...”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook fics #bangtansorciere #ficswithluv #bts #Jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook #Jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #smut jungkook #bts jungkook

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Rainy Afternoon- Klaus Hargreeves x reader

Summary: It’s supposed to be movie night, though Klaus always seems to change that in one way or another.

Warning: fluff, smut mentions

Masterlist

Klaus gently grabbed your shoulders, his face inches from yours as he looks deeply into your eyes, “We’re watching Twilight.” He says softly in the most gentle and sweetest of voices, like he telling you he loves you for the first time or something of the sort.

You let out an amused snort, “No, we are not.” The words leaving your lips bluntly and with as much enthusiasm as a stick.

Laying sprawled out on yours and Klaus’ shared apartment bed, your eyes trailing over the chipped white ceiling as your cuddly man hugs your torso. You couldn’t feel happier or more loved right now in this very moment while a storm rages against the window.

It’s about three in the afternoon and the clouds don’t seem to want to move, nor does the sky appear to remain keen on halting its assault of never ending water droplets onto the city below. But that’s all well and fine with you and Klaus on this lazy Thursday.

So far the two of you have half successfully baked a chocolate cake and eaten mostly all of it for your breakfast/lunch like the health conscious adults you are. Then for almost two hours you both danced around the apartment like wild hoodlums, making sure to push all the furniture aside for safety and to better show off your fantastical dancing skills. After that rush of excitement and heavy physical activity, you both stuck your heads out the window to let the soft pattering of the rain cool you two off.

Once that was done, Klaus dragged your bum to the bedroom for some kisses and a needed cuddle session now resulting in the two of you laying in your casual positioning for the time being. The only sounds to be heard is the pouring of the rain outside and Klaus’ dramatic sighing he does when he wants your attention.

Though you’re trying to ignore it just to fuck with him, even so, it appears your man will not let the room stay in a peaceful quietness. With Klaus. Never.

“What if we had tails?” Randomly questions Klaus, the feel of his hard chin digging into your rips as he tries to look up at you for an answer.

Tilting your head down ever so slightly to meet his emerald gaze you smirk, “What if you shut the fuck up?”

Abruptly lifting himself off of you, you’re left slightly colder as his face feigns offense, “Rude.” He tisks in disapproval, “Y/N you kiss me with that mouth.” He giggles, moving to hover over you, both of his muscular arms to either side of your face.

Looking up into his green irises you can’t help the love struck smile that tugs at the corners of your lips, “You’re one to talk considering yesterday I was making you say a whole lot worse while we were...”

Suddenly his lips are on yours and the slight chill you might have once had is gone in an instant. He’s warm and welcoming as always, letting this moment take its sweet time as he slowly lowers himself flush against you.

Feeling the full weight of Klaus is a solid blessing, he’s warm and enough to cover your smaller frame which is always nice. Soon he’s caressing your hair as his legs fall on the mattress in between your thighs while he continues to move gently against your lips.

All to soon Klaus pulls away, resting his elbows against the bed as he stares deeply into your beaming gaze and almost swollen lips from the swiftly pleasant previous events. His hair is a usual mess, dark brown locks throwing themselves every which way. His unkempt mane is slightly longer then normal but you’re not complaining, gives you something to tug when you’re getting rawed into the mattress.

Without a second to spare he leans down to press a sweet kiss upon your lips before pulling away just as quickly, a mischievous glimmer to his eye that sends an electric bolt of excitement into your body.

Letting your finger tips lightly drag down the side of his handsome features, he closes his eyes as you smile, “I know that look. What do you have in mind we do next?”

Opening his eyes once more, he kisses your cheek, “Oh I have something very intriguing swirling through this wonderland.” He quips, ever so slightly pressing into you as he pecks the corner of your lips.

“Klaus.” You halfheartedly warn, “You’re treading on some very dangerous territory my love, are you even prepared?” You purr, sending shivers down his naked spine as you drag your nails gently down his back, causing the man to close his eyes in pleasure. “You are weak to my power.”

Leaning his head against yours, Klaus tugs at a small lock of your hair, “Y/N. You have no fucking idea.” He mutters lowly, oh you got him now.

“You are nothing but a simple weary traveler who’ve lost their way in the storm.” You whisper, “Wandering, lonely, desperate...”

“Y/N.” He warns, though there is no real threat that could make you fall back in fear, Klaus loves when you act like this. God you’ve got him by a string.

“A man alone is no way to live in this world. It’s a fortunate thing I have found you then, and taken you into my castle.” Your words are soft and sensual as your body begins to press up into his growing member, “Now look at us, how far things have gone from when I found you alone in the woods. Now you’re tiny and desperately in need of being touched.”

“Oh lord.” Mumbles Klaus as you tug at his tiny neon boxers, your lips dancing across his cheeks the whole time.

——

Panting from Klaus’ persistent love making capabilities that’s left you sweaty and slightly sore in more areas then your thighs. You take a deep satisfied breath, body nude and hot as you lay against the beds soft blankets, listening to the pitter patter of rain against the window.

Klaus is a sight to behold, with his hair a wild jungle and his body absolutely glistening in the neon lights of your room. He lays on his back next to you, eyes closed as his face reveals a big dumb smile blessing his handsome features for you and only you to enjoy.

His naked chest rises and falls in repetitive slow waves as he keeps a single hand protectively against your wrist that’s closest to him. You can tell he’s spent, giving all of himself to you in many positions and various places throughout the room is no easy feat. But you’re worth everything to him.

You blink up at the ceiling, immensely enjoying the feeling of being naked and completely vulnerable to the world in this very moment. Though the prying eyes of the universe isn’t a huge problem right now, you’re just grateful to have someone like Klaus who absolutely worships you.

He’s never made you feel like shit, never judged you, let you down when you needed him most, or mocked you for anything. He’s always made sure to keep you close and to never let his addictions get in the way of your love and deep friendship. Sure he’s struggled, but you’ve always been there to reach out a hand when he stumbles.

And for that he owes you everything, possibly even his life. Though he’d never want to fully admit that, he’s still a bit stubborn in those areas. But without a doubt he has always shown you how much you mean to him, and that means more to you then anything in the whole wide world.

Gently tapping your wrist, Klaus stirs from beside you, “Y/N.” He whispers, causing you to turn your attention over to him.

“Yes?” You whisper back, eyes trailing from his lips over to his emerald eyes.

He breaks out into a cute little smile when your gaze meet, “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” You confirm, shifting yourself on the bed so that you’re now laying on your stomach facing Klaus, “I have a fantastic idea and it involves you going to get us something to eat.”

“Blah.” Complains Klaus with a pout, “Can’t we just order gummy worms? Oh, some of that Thai from Fifth Avenue?”

Shaking your head you chuckle, “I’m afraid not, they don’t serve gelatin sour candy or have delivery.”

“Tragic.”

“Well....we could go on a heist to the 7 eleven, you wanna join me?” You ask while gently twirling his hair with your fingers as he thinks of an excuse or hopefully a more positive answer.

“Ugh but the rain.” Whines your man as he throws his arm up to point dramatically at the window before it falls back onto the bed with a thwump sound. “Why do humans need to eat?”

Leaning your head down, you gently kiss his lips for a few moments to silence his dull excuses before pulling away once more, “Why do humans need to fuck?” You whisper to him in the darkly lit room as rain continues to softly patters against the glass.

Raising a brow, you watch as his lips shift into a grin, “Fair point my dear. Fair point.” He mumbles while reaching a hand up to press your lips against his once more. He tastes so sweet and delicious, but alas your stomach growls in defiance as it complains of your hunger.

Tugging on his hair, you lift your head up to give him a half annoyed look, “Stop kissing me. We need to eat something and the fridge is empty.”

Smiling cheekily he softly caresses your skin, “Why can’t I just eat you instead? I know how absolutely scrumptious you are.” Sweet talks Klaus in that compellingly sly voice of his that absolutely drives you wild.

Biting your bottom lip, you contemplate taking him up on that implied offer just as another pang of hunger curls in your body. “I’m thinking cheap frozen pizza. How about you hot-stuff? And anyways, what else you got going on?”

“Showing my girlfriend how much I love her on this fine day?”

“I like it, but wrong answer.” You reply with a smirk, “Now come on, let’s get some food so we can come back here and be lazy again.”

Klaus rolls his eyes, “Grrr fine. But only because I love you.”

#klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #tua imagine #the umbrella academy x you #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years ago

Text

Right behind you:(Bodyguard!Santiago “Pope” Garcia x M!Celebrity!reader)

This is my offering for this week’s #writerwednesday from @autumnleaves1991-blog, which this week is joint with @flightlessangelwings’ Jey’s Pride celebration! 🥳

The verbal prompt was: glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side.”

The visual prompt is the photo below.

This gave me the idea for a very quickly written one shot with bodyguard!Santi and male celebrity reader! I hope you like it!

Warnings: food mentions; mentions of panic attack / hyperventilating. Mentions of sensory overload. One mention of Santi “sucking off” reader. Language. TYPOS, undoubtedly.

Rating: mature for mentions of oral sex but no explicit / actual smut.

Gender stuff: he/him pronouns / masc! terms of endearment used for reader. Implied that reader is a penis owner - no other physical descriptions besides reader wearing a suit and some make-up.

Genre: angst then mainly fluff and happiness! Hurt / comfort, I guess.

ALSO: BONUS CAMEO FROM ANOTHER OSCAR CHARACTER. Did you spot him?

You perch on the couch in your suite, taking steadying breaths and trying desperately to ward off hyperventilation as your bodyguard grips your trembling hand firmly in his. The air is quaking in and out of your lungs and you can no longer help the tears which spike in your eyes and spill over on to your cheeks.

He gives your fingers a squeeze as he crouches before you, and you can’t help the surge of guilt that this is so far outside of his job description. He’s meant to protect you, not comfort you. His work centres on your physical well-being, but you can’t count the times he’s bolstered your emotional well-being too. Then again, this is the only time he’s done so quite as blatantly in front of the rest of your staff, perhaps.

“Oh no, don’t you dare cry, sweetie,” your make-up artist - who will not be getting rehired you decide suddenly- flaps around you, attempting to fuss over you with a tissue. Her panic about her work being ruined at the worst possible moment is plain as day, and it only makes your chest constrict further.

“This isn’t helping” is the only thought blaring loudly in your mind, but you cannot for the life of you push the words out right now. You shut your eyes in an attempt to block it all out. To subdue the sensory overload.

You are thankful that your bodyguard intuits that sentiment on your behalf when you can’t, and you hear his voice is coming from a different angle now, his head whipped sharply sideward and up towards the offending MUA.

“For real? Ffff....” you close your eyes and hear Santi bite down on a curse. You’d laugh if you weren’t so preoccupied, trying desperately to focus on his voice amidst the chaotic, intersecting hubbub of the room. “Ma’am, could you please back the shit up?” He bites. Apparently he can’t stifle the cursing entirely.

Your limp hand travels along with his as he waves his arm around emphatically. “In fact. Out. Everyone out. Now. Please.”

His request slices through the nervous air in the room, his words deep and commanding and delivered with an authority that you doubt anyone would dare question. This man must be obeyed, and in the back of your mind you congratulate yourself for your decision to take a chance on hiring this moody ex-soldier with creaky knees. When he needed to he could certainly clear a room. And on top of that, he offers you a whole lot more besides.

Indeed, here he is, going above and beyond, kneeling on said creaky knees for you. Protecting you, and comforting you too.

Your eyes are still closed as the room gradually quietens, until it is so still you could hear a pin drop. Until you can hear the steady rise and fall of Santi’s breath. Until you can hear the delicate wet noise of his lips parting so his tongue can skim his lips. You can hear him swallow.

As you hear the sound of the final remaining person shuffle out, and the door gently click closed behind them, you are finally able to peel open your eyes. You are able finally able to release your bottom lip from the grip of your teeth, an indent having formed where you have bitten down so hard you have threatened to draw blood.

Santi is as still as death as he waits, and as soon as he hears that final click, he is moving. Only then, does he allow his (thin) veneer of professionalism to collapse. He allows the flats of his palms to snake up your thighs, rubbing reassuring shapes into you, and you feel the familiar heat and press of of him through the luxe fabric of your suit trousers.

“Look at me, cariño,” he soothes, in a deep, fond tone, entirely different to those bitten off commands reserved for the rest of your entourage. “It’s just you and me now. Look at me, baby.”

You do. You look into his big brown eyes and you and he could be the only two people in the world, never mind the room. You sniff, and you fumble away a stray tear before settling your palms on top of his.

You slow your breathing and Santi flashes you a small, proud smile. “That’s it, honey. Nice and slow. Just like that.”

Then, he flinches, his head leaning to the side as though he could physically retreat from whatever angry voice is no doubt blaring into his ear. Then, he makes a point of taking the earpiece out altogether, letting it hang over the collar of his white shirt.

He tugs in a huge exhale too, letting go of the tension he held in his body through his concern for you, although his eyes slit flit around your face in residual concern.

“They’ll be mad you did that,” you warn, with a nod to his earpiece.

“Whatever. It’s not my job to get you to the red carpet on time. It’s my job to look after you.”

“Your job? Hmm? That all I am to you?”

He flashes you a lopsided smile as you tease him. “I’m a lucky man. My job happens to be a thing I love doing outside of work too.” You lift your palm to his face, the familiar texture of his stubble beneath your fingers. “Now, honey. No rush. But do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You look away from him then as you realise he won’t let you distract him enough to avoid the true issue at hand, but his hands are still languidly smoothing your thighs, and you know he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to before you’re ready. He might dole out some tough love, eventually, but not until he is sure that you can take it. He lets you fumble until you find the words. “It’s... even the thought of it, Santi. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done. All those cameras. All those eyes on me, I...”

Santi shushes you, as he hears the resurgent panic creep into your voice, even as your fingertips idly trace over his handsome features, a self-soothing unconscious thing, as he continues to kneel before you.

But while you may be panicked, he’s smiling. Looking up at you earnestly. “You deserve all those eyes on you, hermoso.” You don’t mind at all that when his voice comes out now it’s both fond and a just a little dirty as his own, very attentive eyes sweep over you.

“I don’t know...” You nibble on your lip again.

“Baby. You deserve this night. You’ve worked so hard for this. You’re so talented. And holy shit. You look so fucking hot in this suit I can barely function.” You let out a small, tentative laugh, which Santi seems pleased by, his own eyes creasing at the corners in return. “Besides,” he continues, tone more earnest now, his thick brows raised as he hammers his point home. “I’ll be right there. Just a few steps behind you, okay, mi Principe?”

You take one more deep breath, expelling it slowly and steadily through the “o” of your mouth, and Santi can’t resist your pursed lips a moment longer. Yet, for all his comments about how hot you are, his kiss is not as devouring as you might expect. It is a soft, tender thing, barely skimming your lips, and yet even so it appears to inspire a reverent heat in him, his eyelashes fanned on his cheek as his eyes remain closed a moment longer. As he expels a gust of disbelieving air at how you make him feel from this alone.

“Or,” he proposes, his voice breathy. “We could sack this whole thing off? We could order chilli cheese fries to the room and I can suck you off until you can’t think straight?”

You kiss him again, this time giving him just a hint of tongue, even as you laugh musically into his open, increasingly eager mouth.

“Appealing as that sounds, my love, I probably shouldn’t miss this...” you nod your head towards the door “...lil thing.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Santi concedes with a fond, lopsided smile, his eyes flashing with adoration, until he reluctantly schools himself back to something resembling professionalism. He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, and for his... eagerness to subside, before asking “You ready?”.

You nod. “Ready as I’m gonna get.”

“There he is. That’s my man.” Santi gives your thighs one more squeeze before he stands, and you swear you hear his poor knees creak; and then, he is replacing his ear piece, his face becoming all business as he presses two fingers to his ear. “Kolpakov? We’re ready to move out. Everyone in position?”

He awaits the response before turning back to you, practically gasping as he sees you stood there in all your glory for the first time. His eyes sweep up and down the length of you. He shakes his head incredulously, switching his mic off for a moment more. “Fuck me. You look like a fucking dream.”

“Not so bad yourself,” you respond in a loving, flirtatious tone, dancing your fingertips across his chest as you sweep past him towards the doorway and he turns with you as if in your thrall.

As you prepare, taking another deep breath and gripping the handle, Santi reaches for your arm, delaying you for just another moment. “Santi,” you laugh. “We can do the chilli cheese fries later, I promise.”

But that’s not quite what he has in mind. He looks at you intensely, and he cups your face in his broad palm. “Don’t forget. You deserve those eyes on you. But if you get overwhelmed, know that my eyes are on you. Wherever you go, I’ll be right behind you.”

The sentiment and sincerity with which he says this makes your mouth fall open in shock. Makes your chest constrict with happiness rather than nerves - but you aren’t afforded the opportunity to respond. In the next moments, the door is flung open, and your entourage is flooding you, barking directions and whisking you down the staircase and out on to the red carpet.

You are pulled away from Santi, and you don’t get to be near him again, besides a quick, surreptitious whisper into the shell of your ear as he follows you out the door “we need to talk about your ass in these pants because holy shit” - but that is all you can steal.

True to his word though, wherever you go he is right behind you. He is there with a firm arm to form a protective wall should a photographer come too close, or a fan get too handsy over a barrier. He is standing, stern and formidable to your rear as you provide sound bites to the tv stations forming a line up to the venue (and, trying very hard not to ogle your ass in these pants, probably).

He’s right behind you, designed to fade into the background in every sense. For all his charisma, he’s good at it. Not drawing attention. Even his suit is designed to be non-descript.

But... that’s not where he should be, you realise.

And, when you are almost at the end of the carpet, you stop in your tracks. You hesitate, and you turn around, your gaze instantly finding him in the crowd. He looks concerned, alarmed, as though you may have gotten the jitters again and like you might be about to do a runner.

But that’s not it. That’s not it at all.

In fact, you are more calm and sure than you have been all evening, looking at his befuddled, deer in headlights expression as all the attention suddenly falls on him. He has some big talk and a tough exterior, but the centre of him is soft, and you love that about him.

And so, a cautious smile blooms on your face as you settle firmly on your plan of action, and you walk determinedly in the “wrong” direction, going against the stream of attendees and making a beeline for your love, as he, for once -your man of action- stands frozen in confusion.

Then, when you arrive at him you stop, placing both your hands flat on the lapels of his suit, smoothing them down.

“What are you-?” he begins to ask, but you cut him off.

“Santi, my love. This is ridiculous. I don’t want you behind me. I want you by my side. Where you should be. So, fuck it. Will you do me the honour of accompanying me to this premiere?”

He answers with a smile. With sparkling eyes. With his arms flung around your waist. With the press of his curved lips against yours, and a slip of his supple tongue. “Baby. I’ll always be by your side.” His hands slip a little lower. “Or - you know - sometimes right behind you.” He winks at you. God, you adore this idiot.

So, you wrap your arms around him, guffawing fondly into his neck before kissing him again, more deeply, not caring who’s watching. Your face splits with a beaming smile as you break from the embrace and link your arm into his, proceeding to walk up the carpet again: together this time.

“Fuck me though, honey,” Santi leans over to confide in you as he straightens up his tie, as if suddenly noticing the photographers for the first time now that they are noticing him. “You could have warned me you were going to french me on the red carpet, I would have put on a better suit.”

You laugh warmly as he continues to babble, and you reassure him that he looks perfect.

You know he’s doing his best to mask it, but he’s the nervous one now - you can tell. “Don’t worry, handsome,” you reassure. “Just you and me, remember?”

No-one else in the world.

“Jesus. How do you do this?” he asks, balking at all of the camera flashes going off in his face, his voice choked.

Luckily, Kolpakov - his second in command- figures out what’s happening and takes the cue to intervene, shifting the line back just a little to give the two of you some space. A good job too as you see beads of sweat forming on your love’s brow.

“How do I do this?” you ponder. “Well, I always have you to protect me, right?” You squeeze his arm tenderly. “And I’ll protect you now, my darling.”

This- having him by your side? You have no doubt that this feels right. It is where he has been all along, albeit only in the shadows. In private moments. But tonight, as he encouraged you into the spotlight, you realised how little you cared for hiding. You need him with you.

“Jesus,” Santi chuckles, looking around and trying to take everything in. “The boys are gonna have a fucking field day with this one. I didn’t even tell them we were dating.”

“What the hell, Garcia?!” you chide fondly, mouth open in a shocked “o”, before beginning to chatter and banter away with him as you easily fall into step together. Distracting him from his nerves like he always does for you.

With Santi by your side, you no longer care about all of the other eyes on you. All of the camera flashes. The crowds. Those watching at home.

You’re proud of your achievements. You’re proud of your relationship. And besides, the only eyes on you which you pay any heed to are his. Santiago’s gorgeous brown eyes, which, right now, shine with nothing but pride.

Yours shine right back.

You think he is the one who deserves all eyes on him, tonight.

#santiago pope garcia x reader #writer wednesday #Oscar Isaac #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia #male reader #m!reader #mlm

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nincompoopydoo · 4 years ago

Text

PINING, BAGELS, REPEAT.

— CHAMOMILE FOR THE INSOMNIAC ; PART 1 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1952 holy moly

REQUEST: @raineeace I was wondering if you could do a batfleck x reader where they have some type of friends with benefits relationship but both want to be together so they end up being more cute and awkward?

SUMMARY: You and Bruce’s relationship resides in a gray area between friends and friends that sleep together but the two of you have been pining over each other ever since the agreement began.

WARNINGS: To the victorians users, mentions of the reader and batfleck in the same bed (*gasp*) and being really touchy (in the most pg way possible) and something that’s more than two friends cuddling along the lines.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

All you could do is stare at the ceiling, eyes tracing the yellow glow of the low light, cascading across the blank, white concrete above you. Your eyes are weary, but your racing mind keeps you awake as you listen to every breath you heave and the light snores coming from beside you. Rolling over to your side, you were met with the sight of a sleeping Bruce—furrowed eyebrows and mouth partially agape. You watched the rise and fall of his chest with each inhale and exhale and how his left brow twitches every now and then. Bruce never truly looked at peace, even while he slept.

You replay the entire day in your head; from coming home from an agitating day at work and the text, you had gotten from Bruce, asking if you could come over at 11 PM to when he called you a good friend because you came even though it was so late. The two of you being friends was anything but complicated but your heart had other plans. Now, there’s a constant burning in your gut with every gaze you hold with Bruce and every touch of his gentle hands against your skin. He’s a puzzling man; it’s no surprise that your emotions are becoming even more entangled with every second spent with him.

Minutes passed, or it could have been hours; you’re not exactly sure how long you spent staring at Bruce while he slept. Maybe it was out of admiration or jealousy because he could sleep and you can’t even get yourself to close your eyes. They feel like they’re burning every time you try to close them. Just then, he shifts under the sheets, one hand now tucked under the pillow below his head, still asleep. It’s dark, but it’s enough for you to barely make out the flutter of his eyes open. You quickly turn away to lie on your back and force your eyes shut, not wanting to get caught staring almost creepily at your friend.

“Are you watching me sleep?” You hear Bruce mumble from beside you. Well, shit. You open your eyes, and you’re back to staring at the ceiling. “No,” you whisper like it’s obvious although you’re lying; you don’t turn to look at him, but you know he’s very well staring at you. Bruce chuckles lightly and you hear the rustling of the sheets once more. He reaches across to lay his hand on the curve of your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knows you’re awake. There’s no point in pretending now.

“Can’t sleep?” he queried raspily. You hum in response, tearing your eyes away from the ceiling to him. Your hands clutch the edge of the pillowcase, clinging to it like it’s the only thing that’s keeping you together as Bruce watches you through half-lidded eyes. A moment passes, and he doesn’t say anything. He just...watches you; like he’s trying to read your mind. Panic ensues within you. A part of you is afraid he can read your thoughts at that exact moment although you knew it was impossible but the fear still creeps on you. The fear of Bruce knowing that in that very moment, you take in every detail, every inch of his face, wishing you could be with him without an aching sensation in your chest. Yet, another part of you wishes he would merely read your thoughts so that you could get out of this agonizing position of a rather controversial relationship you have gotten yourself into with a bloody billionaire. Controversial in a sense that you realized you’re starting to see the man, whose bed you lie on, more than a best friend. Heck, you don’t even know if you’re best friends—it’s more of a grey area between friendship and bosom buddies.

But do friends sleep with each other? That's a question you can’t answer for certain and probably never will.

Seconds pass, and the ticking of the clock makes you tick even more. The bed doesn’t feel comfortable anymore, and you’re starting to feel clammy under the sheets. Finally, you bring yourself to look away and sit up, head against the headboard. His eyes are open, almost fully but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches you with a quizzical look. You rub your face, pushing back the mess of your hair. “My head’s pounding so I’m...going to make some tea. Chamomile or something,” you say with your eyes shut, waving a hand in the air weakly. “Do you want some? Earl Grey maybe?” Without thinking, your hand find it’s way to his, fingers pressed against his forearm. Bruce’s look is soft at your touch, but you don’t see it. The way you already knew his favorite type of tea—strong and intense, and how you naturally reach for his touch with affection. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even in the dark. Bruce loves that about you.

Bruce had a knack of being silent, but it’s caught you off guard and it’s starting to become overwhelming. Then, you feel his other hand clasped on yours and for a split second, there’s fire soaring in you. Your gaze returns to him, smiling ever so slightly. Your stomach does another leap. “No, it’s alright. But, thank you.” Bruce mutters, voice still hoarse with sleep. Your eyes shift to his hand on yours, memorizing the way it feels to be holding hands with Bruce. It’s intimate, and you’re beginning to feel hot. Heat swells in your cheeks when the two of you realize the growing tension in the air. You slipped your hand away, and he clears his throat, shifting to lay on his back instead. “Get some sleep, idiot,” you say as you swing your legs over the edge of the back, slipping out of under the sheets easily. You hear a low chuckle as you padded towards the kitchen.

The sound of a loud slam jerks you awake, tired eyes now wide open. Panic is the first emotion you feel, heart thumping so hard against your chest. You find yourself sitting on a couch as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings, skirting across the expense of what you slowly recognize to be Bruce's home. You hear a sputter of curses to your left and you catch sight of the very man at the front door, fumbling a paper bag. You exhale tightly, hand on your chest as he turns to you, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I'm so sorry," He’s cradling the paper bag in his arms, lingering by the door. You leaned back into the couch, rubbing your face as you waved your other hand dismissively. "It's fine," you croak out, noticing the throw blanket on your lap. You don't remember that being there. Hell, you don't even remember falling asleep in the first place.

Shifting in his stance, still by the door, his arms nearly give way as he struggles to steady the paper bag once more. Your laugh comes out more like a puff of air. "You know, you should be putting that on the table." There's a crackle in your voice, annoyed albeit amused. Bruce blinks and then clears his throat once. Then, twice. "Right," he mutters, moving towards the dining table in a hurried manner.

You watch him open the bag, and the smell of savory fills the air. He lifts a bagel from the bag, packed in a bagel holder, looking absolutely divine. Your stomach silently rumbles. "I got you a bagel," he speaks plainly and you raised your eyebrows, a smile enveloping your face. Bruce's eyes connect with yours, and he can't help but mirror your expression—softness and something unknown. Affection? He doubts it. "Wait, really?" Your heart soars and you're reminded how handsome Bruce is. Frankly, it was a simple gesture; it's just bagel after all. Yet, on the other end of the spectrum, it's a big deal. He has never done this for you. He's never gotten anything for you in fact. Maybe, it's because you always left before he even woke up.

You eye him as he ambles your way, bagel in hand. Then, he's standing by the foot of the couch with an outstretched arm as he hands you the bagel. "Yes, really." Maybe, it’s all in your mind; you entirely blame it on the lack of sleep. Yet, the way his fingers brush against yours when you grab the bagel from his grasp, it’s like everything changed overnight. Except, nothing happened overnight.

Other than, you know—

You shoot him a teasing smirk. “Have you gotten soft, Bruce?”

Bruce spares you a deadpan look, index finger outstretched towards you as he lifts his mug from the table. “Hey, don’t go there.” You snort and turn your attention to the baked goodness in your hands. With a bite, your complicated feelings for your friend are once again shoved to the back of your mind as you focus on the smoothness of the cream cheese and the crisp of the bagel itself. You don’t see how Bruce hints the softest smile ever as he watches you literally delve into that once bagel.

He should have bought two of those.

Without even thinking, he naturally finds his way to you and settles beside you. He’s very close to you, hips bumping against each other but it’s not like you’ve never been this close to Bruce before. Well, at least not during the day when the two of you are wide awake. You and Bruce sit in silence—you chewing on the last few pieces of your bagel as he casually sips on his coffee, the both of you staring into space.

The air shifts and then tension returns once more.

“How’s your head?” He breaks the silence, watching you just like last night and you’re beginning to feel light-headed. Well, it was alright before but now it’s back. Thanks to Bruce. You shrug, not daring to spare him a single look. “It’s alright.” He nods, taking another sip of his coffee. Every time he looks elsewhere, he finds his gaze returning to you and to be frank, you’re truly an endearing sight for sore eyes. Especially in this moment. Your hair glowing against the sunlight, settled deep into the cushions as you chewed on your last bite. He prefers you during the day, under the sun—It substantiates the fact you’re real and not just someone who turns up for late night rendezvous.

Right, last night. He feels bad for calling you, but he couldn’t get you off his mind.

“Hey, uh, thank you for coming in so late...I’m really sorry about that. Won’t happen again,” he confides, affection glinting in his eyes, “I owe you one.”

You offer him a small smile, eyes tracing his face.

Bruce is just so handsome.

You wave him off, along with your running thoughts before you start overthinking the last four words he just said to you. “It’s fine. You don’t have to. This gorgeous bagel is really more than enough.” There’s a fond look as you speak and if he keeps on staring at you like that, you’re gonna have to just leave, and never come back for another week or else, you’re going to jump into the lake. But you like the company and maybe the way he’s sitting casually so close to you, smiling at you, makes you want to kiss him even more. Now, that’s what friends do, right?

So, you stay. Tucked under a throw blanket with Bruce leaning into the couch as the two of you admire the view of the lake over the Wayne estate, truly enjoying each other’s company for once.

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