#i made a joke about it when i was writing him for the current fic and then. well you know how i love to commit to a bit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pearlescynt · 19 days ago

Text

I'm Not Glass

{ Pairing } - non-idol!Hyunjin x afab!reader

{ Genre } - forced proximity?, smut, pwp, acquaintance to lovers, developing situationship

{ Synopsis } - A vacation with your group of close knit friends? What could be better! Well, you were close with all but one person. He's an acquaintance, even after five years. A lot of things can change on vacation though... All you need is a tiny room, a bean bag, an olive branch.

(Or; the one where Hyunjin is too awkward to make any kind of move, and when you finally realize he may reciprocate your horny, lustful feelings... you make the move for both of you, or at least a comment to get things going...)

{ WC } - 5.2k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, forced proximity, smut, pwp (plot? what plot? Porn without plot!), shy Hyune, making out, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), slight nipple play, hair pulling, fingers in mouth, seriously he's fucking your mouth with his fingers, drool, spit as lube, praise kink, manhandling (as best he can in a tiny room on top of a giant bean bag), Hyune is sensitive, he is also worshipping you, unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), overstimulation, teasing, cream pie, sweating, slight aftercare, overuse of religious puns, a forgotten about game of super smash bros, everyone was basically waiting for you two to fuck but neither of you knew that, smug comments from Seungmin, not so sly comments from Jisung

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - Hello, I come with crumbs after... 9 months of inactivity from me... I sincerely apologize. I've made enough sad, emotional and apologetic posts though, so onto the story!

I almost renamed this fic to (I'll be honest, I'm tempted to rename it after the fact still): 'Bean Bag Shennanigans' or 'Bean Bag Mishaps' OR 'Bean Bag Escapades'. Then when I came up with the puns, it was going to be 'Blessed Bean Bag' or 'The Sanctified Bean Bag'. Can you count how many times I said "bean bag" in this fic? I think I've typed and read it so much, it doesn't feel like an actual word or piece of furniture anymore lmao.

I hope you enjoy 🩷

"Did you wanna play something? We could go check out the game room. Felix said there was a switch down there." You drawl in Hyunjins direction.

You’re laying flat on your back on a couch, staring at the ceiling. It was relaxing at first, but now you're quickly getting bored.

"Sure, it seems like everyone else is already preoccupied." He shrugs, and pops a halved strawberry in his mouth from the bowl he’d been eating. He gets up from the table where he was sketching, abandoning his work temporarily.

You’re on holiday with your friends for the week, and currently inside the ‘bnb’ you've rented together. The place was huge, with almost too many amenities.

There’s an indoor pool, a hot tub, karaoke, and a pool table. There’s lots of activities scheduled, places to visit, and sightseeing for everyone to do. But it was still nice to be able to have things to wind down with when you were inside. So everyone had dispersed not long after arriving, choosing to explore the surroundings and settle in.

Out of all your friends in this group, Hyunjin is the one you have the most... distance with. It has to be some sort of weird cosmic joke that you’ve been left alone with him right now. In the 5 years your little friend group existed, someone always usually stuck around to act as some sort of buffer between you two. Intentionally or unintentionally, you didn’t know. It’s not that you two hate each other, you just have never clicked with each other, not like you did with the others. You simply existed within the friend group together.

It seems now is an opportunity to get to know each other more in depth.

You both go down stairs, walking across the finished basement, passing Chan and Changbin. They’re at the pool table, both too consumed by the game to truly acknowledge you two. You keep walking through the room, ignoring the thuds above you. It’s the stomping footsteps and tumbling of your friends, play fighting and shouting. Hearing them brings a smile to your face.

Yes, you were all still stuck in childish ways in your mid to late twenties, but adulting is hard. Everyone deserves some fun, and a break once in a while.

They would even pull you into their shenanigans, often pretending to wrestle with you. Tumbling around on the ground, until one of them conceded from you tickling them nonstop.

Finishing your trek across the bottom floor of the rented house, you both stood in front of a door with a multicolored LED sign on it. It reads 'arcade'. You're unsure of what to expect, but Hyunjin opens the door, and you’re both met with... a tiny room?

If it weren't for the mounted tv, the shelf next to it that holds a switch, controllers, a box of tissues, and a few games. You'd think it was a large closet... Actually, taking another look around, that's probably exactly what it is... with a giant bean bag taking up the whole floor.

Seriously, you've never seen a bean bag that big. On top of it are a few throw pillows and a blanket.

"Well. This is certainly cozy." He says.

And you don’t know his tone well enough to know if he’s being sarcastic or snarky. So you huff out a laugh in response.

Grabbing the controllers, you sit on one side of the bean bag, leaving enough room for him to sit next to you. When he sits though, you both immediately slide into the middle of it, pressed up against each other. The two of you start chuckling awkwardly, and try to maneuver yourselves on to your own respective sides, but nothing works. You both just end up falling back into the middle every time.

Eventually you give up, no longer wanting to struggle and adjust, and instead just relax.

"I mean I can play like this." You shrug.

It truly didn't bother you.

"Mmkay." He hums, sinking into the bean bag further with his side flush to yours.

You scroll through the games on the switch, deciding on Super Smash Bros, but it needs to be updated. So you click on 'update', and sit up to dock it. Now you just need to wait for it to be finished.

You lay on your back again, submerging further into the bean bag, and Hyunjin, and pull your phone out.

Nothing else is planned for today, except cooking dinner when it’s time. Like you said, everyone wanted the chance to settle in before the real vacation started. So you’re in no rush to do anything, or go anywhere, but still. You’re getting more and more bored by the second, and Hyunjin is never much of a talker around you.

After scrolling in silence, you glance up at the screen. The game was only 24% done downloading, and you sighed.

“NO FAIR!” You hear Changbin yelling, with loud footsteps up the stairs.

You also hear Chans giggles as he follows after him with much softer steps.

Well. Now you’re really alone down here with him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you look and see Hyunjin scrolling on his own phone. Surprisingly it's a comfortable silence, and you feel the awkward fog disperse while being alone in this tiny space. In your perspective anyways.

That is, until you notice that he starts fidgeting. His hips and shoulders are wiggling, trying to get comfortable. And his fingers have a death grip on his phone, and he’s double tapping a bit too harshly as he likes video after video, seemingly without even watching the whole thing. He goes to adjust himself again, lifting his thigh a bit before bringing it back down, accidentally squeezing the soft skin of your outer thigh under his own.

"Ah, sorry!" He says as a blush forms on his cheeks, and he instinctively goes to rub your pinched skin.

But then he seems to realize what he did by trying to comfort you, and retracts his hand like he’s been burned.

"It's fine." You laugh.

His shy demeanor is astonishing, especially when you’ve seen him act quite the opposite in the past with your other friends.

You're both adjusting again, trying to fit comfortably on the damned bean bag. It results in you both laying down on your sides, your back to his chest. He's unsure what to do with his arms. One is holding his phone above your head and resting on the bean bag, the other is twitching and hovering above you. He seems to want to rest it on your waist, but is unsure.

“You can hold me, you know, I don’t mind. We all cuddle anyways, it’s nothing new. It will probably be more comfortable anyways.” You mutter.

Which is true. You all are a cuddly and touchy friend group. Snuggle piles happen quite frequently, much to certain people’s dismay, especially on movie nights. Yet somehow, every time they happen, you and Hyunjin always end up the farthest apart from each other.

That doesn’t matter now though, you’re trying to reassure him and extend an olive branch. There’s no reason the two of you can’t be just as close as you are to everyone else.

“Oh, uh, okay. Thanks.” He manages to stutter out.

It’s cute, he’s always been a bit timid in his interactions with you. Not that there were ever too many. Regardless, he lets his arm fall over you, let’s his fingers dangle in that area below your navel, but above your pant line. Then he’s back to scrolling on his phone, still above your head.

You scoot back a bit, just trying to get more comfortable, but he stiffens. He’s immediately trying to back up, and ends up dropping his phone with a quiet thud, as it slips to the floor between the bean bag and the wall. His hand comes to your hip, squeezing surprisingly tight so he can hold you in place.

He seemingly wants to avoid his pelvis pressing into you.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry.” He spits out, his grip relaxing on your hip, but not moving so he could keep you still, “I didn’t mean to– well I didn’t want you to– just, I’m sorry.”

It's amusing really, ending up in this situation and position, with someone who is essentially an acquaintance. The two of you never hung out one on one, and only ever saw each other in group settings. Even taking all of that into consideration, this doesn't feel unnatural to you. And you won’t lie, your mind has wandered to impure thoughts about him before.

And there’s no way you’re connecting the puzzle pieces wrong. The way he’s always acted around you, the distance you both kept from each other, it’s got to be mutual.

So you figure, now’s as good a time as any to make a move…

A smirk spreads across your lips and despite his hand desperately trying to hold you still, you move backwards, snuggling closer to him. "Wanna know a secret?"

You can feel him filling out in his pants, he’s half hard already from barely anything. That gives you all the conviction you need to hopefully initiate something fun.

"Ah, sure?" His voice is shaky, adorable.

"I'm not made of glass, you can touch me. I won't break, promise. Plus," You say in a soft and low voice, "Maybe I like it a little rough."

He looks at you for a second, registering your words, and then slowly nods. Hopefully it clicked for him too.

You're sure it did, because his lips bloomed into a smile, and his eyes lidded. Then with all the sudden confidence in the world, he tugs at you rolling you over. Both of you face to face, as you dipped further into each other. He's staring into your eyes, and then he places a hand on your arm, tracing it up to your shoulder.

"So... you're okay with being touched? Anywhere?" His voice is silky smooth now, and alluring. Not to mention his eyes are sharp with a lustful resolve.

Whatever game you started playing, he clearly just took over.

You go to speak, but he brings his hand to caress your jaw, and holds eye contact with you. Gently, he grips your chin, slowly pulling you towards his face, his eyes darting to your lips. You close your eyes in anticipation, and instead feel his breath fanning your lips. His lips are ghosting over yours. He's waiting for you to make a move.

As confident as this man just was, he's still having you make the first move.

You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain, so what the hell.

Your lips brush against his, and he's kissing you back fervently. He's tender, but desperate. Deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue between your lips. The taste of him is immediately intoxicating. Mint and... strawberries?

You never thought an odder pairing tasted better.

Where he was once too nervous to even accidentally touch you, he had all the intent to make you feel on fire now.

Your bodies pressed together felt so warm. One hand clutching a fistful of his shirt, and the other wrapped around him. His hand slides down your back, resting on your butt and kneading it. Both of your legs are a tangled mess, intertwined in a way that he was able to perch his thigh between yours. He presses his thigh up, and you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a groan.

Something kept changing in him, or maybe it just kept revealing the true version of him, and you weren't prepared when he slipped his other arm underneath you, grabbed you and twisted, hauling your body on top of his. You were straddling him. His hands resting on your thighs, rubbing his thumbs in little circles. Looking down on him, you see the desire in his eyes, and you can only hope he sees the same in yours.

He no longer seems to be shy as he sits up a bit. It seems like he's admiring you, looking your body up and down. You watch as his eyes trail down to your lips, to your neck, to your heaving chest, and then lower... Where your body sat atop his, heat meeting heat. Then he's holding eye contact again as he grabs your hips, rolling you into his hardened length. Your head was clouded with lust and nothing else. He was letting you know exactly what he wanted. So when you started to move your hips of your own volition, his jaw dropped, his eyes fluttered closed, as his breath hitched.

This man is gratifyingly sensitive.

He wasn't gentle this time when he kissed you again. He sat up fully, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. His tongue explored yours, kissing him felt like experiencing the hunger of a starved man. You were more than happy to feed him. He devoured you, and you savored each flick of his tongue. He cards his hand up into your hair from the base of your neck, and a shiver goes down your spine. His touch feels magnified. When he gripped a fistful of hair tightly, you moaned into his mouth.

He tugged you away from his lips by your hair, craning your head back and exposing your throat to him. And you're stuck, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. You want to pout in protest, but when he starts peppering kisses on your neck, you sigh and close your eyes. His lips were so plush and warm as he pressed them against your skin.

He's loosening his grip on your hair, and dragging his hand down your neck. You jolted a bit at him groping your chest. His palm is warm against you, and he gives a little squeeze before massaging your tit. When his teeth nip your collar bone, you're whining and biting your lip. He soothes it with his tongue, and goosebumps bloom across your body. His kisses trail down further until they can't, and he's lifting your hoodie off roughly. Irritated at the boundary between you and him. You feel so overwhelmed with want, that it aches.

You started moving your hips, trying to relieve the throbbing between your thighs. He stops to look at you reverently, his eyes lost in your expression as you attempt to pleasure yourself. You take the opportunity of him being distracted to push him down onto his back, and he grunts as he lands. It gives you a better position to roll your hips against his bulge again, sending tingles throughout your body. His hands find your hips again, and he starts rocking you faster, and rougher against his cock. His own hips meeting yours in sync.

You hear the switch remotes fall off the bean bag, lodging themselves against the door, but you choose to ignore it.

Even through layers of clothing, the sensation feels completely electric, and you sit straight up to catch your breath. But he never stops moving your hips, and you have to bite your lip to silence a moan. He had found a better angle to rub himself on your clit, and you felt the pleasure building slowly. How in the hell does this man get you close without even undressing you?

Sure you've done this before, particularly in the early days of your sexual exploration. Usually in a rushed and fumbled manner, young adults trying to figure out what feels good for them and whatnot. But this man makes dry humping feel like a whole new experience.

He looks completely disheveled underneath you, as he starts to rub and flick your exposed nipples. His eyes boring into yours again is overwhelming, almost unbearable. But you never want him to look away. You were so overheated with anticipation, that his fingers felt so cold against you now. But his lips were still so hot, as you bent down to kiss him again. It was all tongue, and spit, and incredibly messy. That's when he snapped, fully and finally, letting go completely.

He lets out the smallest growl as he flips you yet again, pinning you on your back, both your wrists being held by only one of his hands.

"You said maybe you like playing rough?" He smirks down at you, fingers tracing up your ribs.

"Love it, actually." You answer breathlessly.

He nuzzles into your neck and turns to whisper in your ear, "Good girl."

You're melting at his words, head clouding up with compliance as soon as you hear his praise. Up until now the entire ordeal was nearly silent aside from panting, moaning and groaning. If he keeps talking to you like that, your head is going to be floating away from you.

He's too busy slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts to notice. He sits up on his knees, and has your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one smooth motion. You, however, were kicking them off desperately.

He proceeds to spread your thighs, gazing at your center through those foxy eyes, "Look at this pretty, wet cunt." He mumbles.

You try not to clench your thighs, as he's holding them open still. But he feels your muscles tense. He leans closer, eyes still glued to wear you can feel slick leaking out, and licks his lips. His eyes shoot back up to you, and he tilts his head with a smile.

"Is it for me, angel?"

You whimper at the puff of warm air against you, before letting out a pathetically strangled, "hnng..." in an attempt to say yes.

He's massaging and kneading your thighs up and down. His hand draws closer to where you're craving his touch.

"We’re moving awfully fast, love. I need your consent if you want me to make you feel good. Yes or no?"

"Yes, please, I can't tak-" You're pleading without hesitation.

Before you could even finish your sentence, his tongue is licking a long strip from your opening to your clit. And you let out a pornographic moan.

He peeks up, wetness shining on his chin already, "Now, now. We wouldn't want anyone to find us in this compromising position, would we?"

"No..." You whine, bucking your hips towards his face, uncaring of how desperate you might look.

He just chuckles darkly, "Good, then keep quiet or I'll make you quiet. You'd look so adorable with your panties stuffed in your mouth."

Fuck, you had no idea he was like this. You thought he was the adorable one, all timid and cute and shy. Clearly he’d been hiding this other side of himself from you. All this time, you could have been experiencing this with Hyunjin. You curse yourself for not trying to break whatever resolve he was clearly holding back from you, earlier.

You clamp a hand over your mouth as he goes back to pleasuring you. His tongue is focused on your clit, teasing you with kitten licks. You need more, and try to roll your hips against his mouth. But he grunted softly while holding one of your hips down.

He’s swirling circles over your clit now, and brings two fingers to your entrance. He slips them in harshly, giving you no time to adjust, and you’re thankful for how wet he had gotten you first. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

"You're doing so well," He whispers against your cunt.

It feels so good, even better when he curls them and starts pumping into you quickly. Reaching that gummy spot inside you repeatedly.

It was nearly impossible to stay quiet, but you managed by panting through it.

Saliva starts collecting in your mouth from it, drool slipping out of your mouth.

You’re so close, you can’t help it when a quiet and whiny "Fuck..." Flies out of your mouth. You knew quickly though, that was the wrong move.

His fingers slow down to a lazy rhythm, still working into you but not enough to push you over the edge. He lifts his head to look at you. A smug smile plastered to his face, "Angeeeeel" He sings quietly, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever heard.

You hope he never stops calling you angel.

"Didn't I say to be quiet?" He asks as he removes his fingers from your pussy.

"I-I'm sorry, it just... you're so... God, it was so good." You're struggling to find your words, chest heaving, and walls clenching, searching to be filled again.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He vocalizes and climbs up to face you, "I know a way to keep you quiet."

His fingers are prodding against your lips, and you open them automatically. He's shoving them deep, sliding against your tongue. Your lips close around them, and your tongue starts laving at them. You can taste yourself, and feel his fingers caressing your tongue. It’s like he’s teasing you, showing you what you could be feeling a little lower, if only you could be a little quieter. All it's doing is winding you up even more.

He's watching you in awe, his lips parted, eyes glued to your mouth engulfing his fingers. He pulls them out slightly and pushes them back in repeatedly, and you start drooling even more. Spit is gathering at the corner of your mouth and sliding out, his eyes tracking the glistening path it's leaving.

"When we're not in this cramped closet, I'm going to fuck your face like this."

You gurgled a bit at that, and that was enough to push him even further. You didn’t think he was holding anything more back, but you were wrong.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, and kneels, pulling his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. It springs up, bouncing off his stomach. He spreads the mixture of your wetness and saliva from his fingers onto his cock, and lets out a soft moan. Giving himself a few pumps, he lines himself up with your entrance, still on his knees.

He was looking down at you, seemingly admiring how fucked out you looked before his cock even entered you. You’re looking up at him expectantly.

Without warning he thrusts into you, this time pausing for a second. You moan again and that's when he lays on top of you, kissing you. You taste yourself once more, just on his tongue this time. Nearly all your senses are overwhelmed, and you feel your mind slipping into the abyss.

He whispers against your lips, "You need something in your mouth constantly, don't you, love?"

You whimper softly, and that triggers him to start moving, barely any build up to him snapping his hips against yours. His fingers slip back into your mouth, and his head drops to your shoulder, nosing against it and humming. He was whispering sweet praises into the crook of your neck, you were barely registering it.

“You feel so good, love.”

“I’ve imagined a lot, but I never imagined you’d get this wet for me.”

“You sound so pretty trying to hold back for me.”

”Taste divine, too.”

”Such a good angel.”

You weren't going to last long, you felt about three seconds away from cumming.

What you did register very clearly, was him letting out the softest whimper directly in your ear, and nipping your earlobe afterwards. Then you were falling apart. Pleasure crashing over you, and body jerking against his. He was kissing your neck now, but his pace never faltered. Instead of helping you ride it out by slowing down, he kept pushing you higher. Your thighs were shaking, it felt like this orgasm would never end.

It was hard to find the words you wanted to say in your hazy mind, but you found one,"S-sensitive." You whispered.

At that he did slow down a bit, and faced you again. Pressing more soft kisses to your jaw, cheeks, and lips. And you could breathe again.

"But angeeel," He sing-songed again, "Hyunie made you feel so good, don't you want me to cum too?"

You blinked up at him through teary eyes, trying to see him clearly as he was still slowly fucking you. It was still sensitive, and sore in the best way.

"Answer me love."

Your response was on instinct at this point.

"Yes sir."

And his eyes darkened, his grip on your thighs tightened and he pushed your knees further into your chest.

"Good girl." He praised you again, and you whimpered.

He gave no mercy though, skin slapping against skin as his hips jerked roughly into you. This time it was him clamping a hand against your mouth, he knew immediately you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet.

Your walls clenched around him, and you were in shock at the fact it felt like you were about to cum again so quickly. He grunted softly, eyes squeezing shut, and hips faltering.

"My angel feels so. fucking. perfect." He whispered, and punctuated it with one last pump into you.

His jaw dropped, and he was holding back strangled noises as he emptied his load inside you.

You were squirming, you’re so close, just a little more and you could–

But your thoughts were blown away when he brought his fingers to your clit, and started rubbing in quick circles. Your breath stuttered, and he still held his palm over your mouth. You were grateful, because you were cumming again in seconds, a long and muffled whine breaking through.

He didn’t keep going this time, he tapered his motions off, and as soon as he retracted his hand you were gulping for air.

“Fuck.” You panted.

He chuckled lowly, wiping the sweat from his brow with his inner wrist, and pushing his hair back off his face. Those piercing eyes were watching you still, as you heaved for oxygen.

“Holy fuck.” You murmured again.

“I wouldn’t say I’m all that Holy honestly, you’re the angel.” He smirked.

“No, but that was still a spiritual experience.” You laughed breathlessly, trying not to let the pet name fluster you further.

“Mmm… transcendent even.” He hummed.

Then he pulled out of you, and you hissed at the loss and the sting.

“Stay still, I’ll clean you up.”

You listened, letting the bean bag engulf you further as he moved towards the shelves. It’s a good thing this blanket was here. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to clean a bean bag.

He wiped you down as best as he could with the conveniently placed tissues, and then wiped himself before tucking himself back into his pants, and then the used tissues in his pocket.

He slid your bottoms and shorts back on, and tugged your hoodie over your head, before collapsing next to you with a huff. No hesitation in pulling you close to him this time.

You both lay there, eyes closed, listening to nothing but each other's breathing for a few moments. Then he breaks the blissful silence.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tried to keep going without talking to you about it first.” He muttered, giving you a squeeze.

“Overstimulation is 100% my thing, I’m not mad about it.” You mumble and peek an eye open to look at him.

He’s gorgeous, face still glistening in sweat, down to his neck, and hair stuck to his forehead. You sit up to reach for the tissues, wiping his face and neck down and attempting to pat his hair dry. You push it out of his face again, and look into his eyes.

“If I’m mad about anything, it’s the fact we could’ve been doing that for years.” You smirked.

He’s grinning now, and putting a hand around the back of your neck while you play with his hair.

“Well, we-”

But he’s cut off, because you both hear somebody outside of the door. You both scramble to sit up straight and apart from each other. You stuff the tissues you were holding into your hoodie pocket. Just in time for the door to swing open.

There stands a curious looking Seungmin, eyeing you both and then the surroundings of the tiny room.

"What were YOU guys doing?" He says with a sly smirk.

Jisung’s head pops into view and he's squinting at the two of you suspiciously.

You didn’t even hear anyone come down the stairs, then again that wasn’t a priority when you were too busy getting your guts rearranged sporadically. Just how much did these two hear?

"Oh, we were just playing a video game." You wave your hand at the tv, hoping to come off nonchalant.

"You were playing a game. Really?" Seungmin asks dryly.

“Must have been some game.” You hear Jisung chime in.

"Yeah," Hyunjin chuckles, "why, what's up?”

"Oh nothing, it's just funny how you can play a game with the controllers wedged underneath this bean bag here.” He says pulling them out and tossing them towards you and Hyunjin. “And the game is still on the start screen." Seungmin shrugged.

Hyunjin just smirked, and combed his hair back with his hand. You, however, feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you stare at the screen.

"Anyways." Jisung says, "We've decided we're going to play a drinking game! Come with us!" He says bouncing up and down on his heels and dashing towards the stairs.

Seungmin looks you both up and down, before he hums and walks away. As they ascend the stairs, you hear Jisung not so quietly whispering.

“You think one of them finally made a move?”

Then you hear a smack, and Jisung shouting about violence not being his love language.

You let yourself exhale finally with a shaky breath, and look over to Hyunjin. He’s smiling entirely too brightly for just having almost been caught in a compromising position.

So you smack him halfheartedly in the shoulder.

“Now what was that for?” He says, his smile seemingly not going anywhere.

“Next time, we need a locked door, and preferably not a bean bag.”

“Oh, next time?” He raises an eyebrow, and you want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.

But if you do that, you know it will escalate. And you two still need a proper conversation about whatever just happened, because you definitely want it to happen again. Plus you don’t think you can handle anymore beanbag shenanigans.

“Shut up.” You say instead, with a smile to match his own, “I need a shower before I play, good luck enduring the masses about what just happened.”

“Masses? More religious puns?” He jokes.

And it feels a little strange now, having a complete 180 and being able to converse lightly and joke with him. When not even two hours ago, you struggled with awkward silences. Then again, he was inside of you not even ten minutes ago.

Yeah, a shower, the drinking game, a proper conversation, and hopefully more fucking.

“What can I say, I feel blessed.”

“I feel sinful, in the best way though.” He continues.

“I will deliver your penance later, first, I shower.” You joke and finally get off the bean bag and out of the tiny room.

He follows behind you, as you both walk towards the stairs. But before you can get up the first step, he bends down to whisper in your ear.

“I'll be waiting for you, I am but a devoted worshipper.”

Holy fuck, this man is going to ruin you.

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @fox-in-y @irrevocable-exposure

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this, as much as I enjoyed writing it, let me know if you did! And I hope I receive a warm welcome back to the world of writing ♡

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dollzstrology · 6 months ago

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⋆｡°✩ — His Favorite Fantasy ᝰ A Rafe Cameron Christmas Special

Lyrics — Rafe’s been begging to introduce roleplay into your sex life, and you’ve been brushing him off, until now. When he comes home from a long trip, you surprise him in a sexy maid costume, turning his wildest fantasy into reality. Christmas came early, and so will he when you’re done with him.

Music Advisory — roleplay [reader is a sexy maid], a little smutty [brief handjob/blowjob], very suggestive ending, s4!rafe coded, business man!rafe

Duration — 3k words

Words from Artist — Merry Christmas Eve Everyone! I wanted to write a fun and smutty holiday fic for Rafe and this is the concept I came up with! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — main m.list・obx taglist・navigation

Rafe has been dropping hints for months: lingering looks, teasing remarks, and casual comments that made it clear about what he wanted. The Kook prince has been wanting to experiment in the bedroom for a while, bringing a new spice to your sexual relationship by having a role-play session. It’s been on his mind for a while and he wasn’t shy of letting his fantasies be known.

It started out as a joke, or at least, that’s what you told yourself. One of Rafe’s usual throwaway, flirty remarks, the type that always made you roll your eyes and mutter a soft, “You’re crazy, Rafe,” as you gave him a playful shove. But your slightly dismissive attitude never stopped him. If anything, it only encouraged him to bring the idea up more.

Over breakfast, during your lazy afternoons at home, when you both are partying at the boneyard, even during your late night phone calls. No matter the setting, whenever the thought of you in a slutty little costume, showing off the assets you were blessed with, he speaks his mind.

Like that time a few weeks ago, when you were cooking dinner. You’d been on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab an ingredient from a high shelf, Rafe walked up behind you, pressing his chest against your back, and his arm stretching past yours as he helped you reach what you were looking for. “Y’know,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing, “you’d look so sexy in one of those little outfits. All short ‘n tight, wearin’ one of those skimpy skirts.”

“Rafe!” you’d hiss, fighting a tight lipped smile while your cheeks burn from his flirty comment. You stepped out of his grasp and swatted his arm like you usually do when he brings up the idea of you dressing up for him.

"What?" he'd say, grinning like the devil himself, giving your ass a nice grab before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Just tryin’ to paint you a picture."

It wasn't just the comments, though. It was the tone of his voice, the way his voice dripped with mischief, his eyes dark and suggestive, like he knew exactly how to get under your skin. And damn it, he was good at it. You'd laugh it off every time, rolling your eyes or shaking your head, pretending you weren't affected while saying “Keep dreaming, Cameron. Not gonna happen”. But in reality you actually wanted to dress up in a slutty costume for Rafe, you just couldn’t let him know that.

Your plan has been in moniton for months, with Christmas right around the corner you thought this would be the perfect time to give him what he’s been practically begging for as an early Christmas gift. You’ve been spending your time scrolling through multiple websites, trying to find the perfect ensemble to surprise him with. After continuously surfing the web you finally found the perfect costume and it was thankfully delivered just in time to surprise Rafe with it before he came home from his business trip.

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as you open the package, pulling out each part of the costume in awe as you imagine the material clinging to your curves, and how Rafe’s going to be practically trying to rip it off you after the image of you being his sexy maid is stained in his brain. Out of all the role-playing scenarios he’s talked to you about, acting as his maid who ‘cleans up his messes’ and ‘does a little extra for her holiday bonus’ is the one he’s brought up the most.

Rafe’s private jet landed a few hours ago so now you’re currently preparing for his arrival and doing final touches on your look; spraying your favorite scent of perfume, taking your hair out of its current updo and allowing it to cascade down shoulders, and finishing your makeup with your strongest setting spray to keep it as fresh as possible.

As you take one final glance in your full length mirror, you can’t help but feel a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling in your stomach. The maid costume fit perfectly, snug in all the right places, the small white apron tied neatly around your waist, and the white thigh-high stockings with a lacy trim that adds a perfect amount of tease. You give yourself a once over, turning slightly to admire your physique, causing a smirk to come across your lips. “Damn, I look good.” You mumble under your breath as you make sure your hair looks its very best.

The sound of your phone buzzing as it sits on your vanity pulls your attention away from the mirror and you walk over to see read the notification which you soon realized it was a text from Rafe:

[8:55PM] Ray❤️: Just pulled in the driveway, baby.

As your eyes read Rafe’s text your heart skips a beat as the moment you’ve been carefully planning for months is finally here. You quickly adjust your stockings, grab the feather duster off your bed, and make your way downstairs to the front door, taking a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves.

After a few minutes of waiting you can hear the keys being placed in the front door, and soon the door swings open and reveals Rafe. His navy blazer was slung over his shoulder, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his usual confidence carrying him inside. “Baby!” He calls out while his eyes quickly scans the area around the front door before he goes into his home office and sets his things down before trying to find you around the large square footage of Tannyhill. “Baby, where are you-” His words become lodged in his throat and his eyes widen when his gaze lands on you, standing in the kitchen in your costume, leaning against the granite countertop with a feather duster in your hand with a coy smile.

"Holy shit," His voice is low and raspy, he runs his hand over his buzz cut and rubs the back of his neck out of shock and disbelief that you’re standing in front of him, acting out one of his top fantasies. Rafe’s eyes can’t pry away from you in this beautiful ensemble: an all black lace corset that pushes up your plump breast, a little mini skirt that shows the bottom of your ass cheeks if you bend over in the slightest, white garters around your thighs and stockings wrapped around your slender legs, and the cherry on top that completes the outfit—and causes his cock to strain against his slacks— is your pretty feet in the Christian Louboutin black stilettos he bought you a while back.

“Welcome home, Mr. Cameron.” your voice is laced with a playful innocence but your eyes are telling a different story. Rafe doesn't respond immediately; his jaw slackens slightly, and his piercing blue eyes roam over body, soaking in every detail of your outfit like he's committing it to memory so he’ll never forget. His hand remains frozen on the back of his neck as though he's trying to ground himself from the initial wave of shock. Finally, his lips curl into a slow, wicked smirk, the kind that always sends shivers down your spine.

"Holy shit," he repeats, his voice thicker this time. He drops his blazer onto the back of a chair and walks toward you with purposeful steps, resting his hands on your hips, trying his best to keep himself under control and not just devour you right here on the kitchen counter. "I must've walked into the wrong house because there's no way my girl-" He pauses, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "—the one who's been brushing me off for months-is standing here looking like every fantasy i've ever had."

You twirl the feather duster in your hand, your coy smile growing as you feel his hand grasp the flesh of your ass. "Well, Mr. Cameron. I thought it was time I finally give you what you’ve been asking for." you say, your tone dripping with playful seduction.

Rafe's grip on your ass tightens, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you gasp. His smirk deepens and his eyes turn a shade darker with a glint of desire, showing that he’s clearly amused by how committed you are to your role. "You got no idea how long i've been waiting for this, baby." he drawls, his voice low and teasing.

Rafe steps even closer, pressing his body against yours until there's no space left between you, allowing you to feel his bulge that’s aching to be wrapped around your sweet pussy. His other hand slides up your waist, brushing against the lacy corset before resting just below your breast. "You've been playing hard to get," he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, making goosebumps rise to the surface. "Brushing me off, laughing it away like I didn't mean it... And now you're just gonna stand there ‘n act like you didn't drive me crazy on purpose?"

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure under his intense gaze and his fiery touch as his hands move to multiple parts of your body. "I wanted it to be a surprise, an early Christmas gift." you whisper, setting the feather duster done and beginning to unbutton the rest of Rafe’s shirt so you can get him shirtless. "And judging by the look on your face, l'd say I made the right decision."

A dark chuckle escapes Rafe’s throat as his lips graze the corner of your mouth. "Oh, you did, sweetheart," he says, his voice dropping an octave. "But don't think for a second you're getting away with teasing me like this."

Rafe steps back slightly, his hands sliding down your thighs before effortlessly lifting you onto the countertop. The cool granite against your skin sends a shiver through your body, and before you can even react, he leans in, trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone in teasing nips.

"I've got a lot of making up to do for all the times you told me this wasn't your thing," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. His lips leave a trail of red marks, each one more insistent than the last, and you know they'll be hard to cover up tomorrow when you head out.

You grin at his remark, the teasing satisfaction in your eyes matched only by the heat building between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that's raw and hungry, his large, calloused hand wrapping around your throat in a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. He kisses you sloppily, yet perfectly, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless and desperate for more.

Finally, he pulls away, his lips hovering just above yours, his eyes dark with desire. "I'm all yours, Mr. Cameron," you breathe, your voice thick with anticipation. "Whatever you need, I'm here to help."

Rafe pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes, his hand still wrapped around your throat, his grip firm but careful. His lips are slightly swollen from the rough kiss, and his eyes are dark with desire. "Whatever I need, huh?" he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your jaw as he tilts your head back, exposing more of your neck to him.

You nod, your breath hitching as his lips graze your throat, his stubble rough against your sensitive skin. "Yes, that's what I'm here for," you whisper, your voice shaky but steady enough to keep up the act.

His piercing gaze locks onto yours, and then he lowers his eyes, making a slow, deliberate trail down to the very obvious bulge straining against his slacks. "Oh, i've got something you can help me out with," he says, his voice dripping with filthy intent. His hand slid to your chin, tilting your head up so you couldn't look anywhere but at him. "And trust me, sweetheart, it's a big job."

Your breath hitches as Rafe's words hang in the air, thick with desire and dirty promise. His piercing blue eyes pin you in place, his grip on your chin firm but gentle, commanding your attention. The smirk on his lips is cocky and confident, the kind that always makes your stomach flip.

"Oh, is that so?" you murmur, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of his gaze, though you try to keep your tone playful.

Rafe tilts his head, his thumb brushing lightly against your bottom lip. "Mhm," he hums, his voice low and gravelly. "You've been teasing me all night with this little outfit, acting like a good girl. But we both know better, don't we?"

Your cheeks flush at his words, but you hold his gaze, a small smirk tugging at your lips. "Well, Mr. Cameron," you reply, your voice dripping with false innocence, "I'm just here to... serve."

That earns you a low, dark chuckle from Rafe, his fingers sliding down to grip your neck lightly, just enough to make your pulse race. "Good," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you. "Then get down on your knees and start working... because I'm not letting you off easy."

The command sends a rush of heat through your body, and you feel his hands guide you off the counter with practiced ease. “Yes sir, Mr. Cameron.” Once your heels hit the tile you grab Rafe’s hand and lead him to the living room, making sure you twist your hips perfectly so your ass ripples with each step you take so Rafe’s eyes stay glued to your body.

When you're in front of the couch you softly push him into the cushiony material and once he’s seated your knees hit the soft rug beneath you, looking up at Rafe through your lashes while you undo the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather through its loops and throw it off to the side before pulling his pants and boxers down. Once the cotton cloth is no longer acting as a restraint, Rafe’s hardened cock springs free, softly hitting his lower abdomen before it rests in front of you, pre-cum leaking down his tip, making your mouth water at the sight.

You wrap your hand around his shaft, creating a pleasant sensation to shoot through Rafe’s body as your warm palm moves toward his tip and down to his base. Once you see the veins in his cock become prominent, and his shaft starts to throb in your hand, you move all your hair over your shoulder before kissing Rafe’s pinkish tip and taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue on his cock and sucking him off just the way he likes.

As Rafe watches you, your lipstick leaving stains on his cock, the way you're taking him deep in your throat, watching your saliva drip down his shaft, and the vibrations flowing through his body from your soft hums to keep yourself from gagging makes him throw his head back in ecstasy, wanting to fuck your pretty little throat until it’s raw and hoarse.

He uses his large callous hands as a makeshift ponytail, tangling his hands in your hair before pushing you down further onto his cock, forcing your nose to touch his groin and the tip of his cock to your uvula, making a hiss spew from his mouth. "Fuck, that's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice filled with the wicked intent to press you to your limit and use you in any way he pleases.

Rafe's grip on your hair tightens as he guides your movements, his hips rolling forward slightly, matching the rhythm of your bobbing head. His cock twitches against your tongue, and the guttural groans spilling from his lips tell you just how much he's losing control. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust, his eyes locked on the way your lips stretch around him. "So fuckin' pretty like this. My perfect little maid, doin’ such a good job for me."

Your hands rest on his thighs for support as you take him deeper, your eyes watering but fixed upward to meet his intense gaze. He groans at the sight, his free hand brushing the tears that are flowing down your cheek with surprising tenderness, a sharp contrast to the way his other hand grips your hair.

"You like this, don't you?" he growls, his tone teetering between teasing and demanding. "Taking me so well, letting me use this pretty mouth. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, huh?"

You hum in response, the vibrations traveling through him and pulling another curse from his lips. "Shit," he hisses, his hips jerking forward instinctively. "I could do this all night. But you keep this up..." He trails off, his voice rough as his breathing grows heavier. "...and I'm not gonna last much longer."

Rafe pulls back slightly, letting you catch your breath before pressing you down again, his cock sliding deep into your throat. The lewd sound of your gagging only fuels him further, his eyes filled with lust as he watches you work, completely lost in the pleasure you're giving him.

"That's it, sweetheart," he groans, his voice low and gravelly. "Prove to me you're my good little maid. Show me just how well you can take care of me."

Fanbase — @ietss @shimmeringana @ims1 @anything4yooongi @genesis-p4l-love @oatmealisweird @ilovechickfilasauce @brooklynadoresdior @jordscosplay @taylormarieee @rivivie @shadyshady @m-mally @jj-maybank944 @bakugouswaif @princessadaniii8 @gillybear17 @rafestoothbrush @daisywonderland @loganssswifeyyy @curlyhairedgurlie @kennediijordan @megilite @crowskanej @death-by-tbr @agustd202204 @4thgradefilms @flvredcas @steverogerswife69 @hellokittyontop @belsssssss @stalkingyou @intomaeve @ameliablaine21 @alina5368 @julia-fandom @jvisisv2 @mini-shark @poetictrashsstuff @winterssecrett @simp4toomanymen @witchmoon10 @pvyden

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bartxnhood · 2 months ago

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be my lover | kim hongjoong

mob!hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis: in which hongjoong doesn’t like that fact you don’t care he’s cheating on you. arranged marriage or not.

warnings: arranged marriage, cheating, swearing, mentions of blood and killing people, hongjoong is kind of a dick but he’s in love, probably more.

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: oof okay i haven’t written for kpop in SOOOO long and this is officially my first ateez fic. i saw the ateez in cinema thing and wow. hongjoong wrecked me SO HARD HAHAHA OMG (jongho ily look away) anyways, i decided to finally write for my ult group!! enjoy!!

a/n: pt.2 ALSO readers personality is kinda based off of polly from peaky blinders iykyk. nonchalant badass!!!! happy reading!!

disclaimer: this is purely a work of fiction and does not represent ateez or kim hongjoong as a person.

not proofread

requests open

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧

growing up, every girl has their dream. maybe it’s becoming the first woman president, or to travel the world. but for most, it’s getting married.

the most romantic proposal. trying on the dress until you find the perfect one, wearing that ring your significant other picked out, the flowers, venue, and marrying your true love.

that was your dream, too.

but you didn’t get to live that dream. no, you were thrown in the deep end after your twenty-third birthday. no proposal, no wedding, no dress, no flowers, not even a beautiful ring. a simple gold band was all you were given by the man you married.

“it will benefit our family, don’t you want to make your family proud?” your father would say, after you had gone off on him. yelling in his face about your freedom, how you didn’t ask to be born into the life that your family had. of course, you did.

you left home for college, left the country to focus on schooling, unaware that your father was tracking you down and had his henchmen kidnap you and bring you home.

you were married two weeks later to kim hongjoong.

boss of sector one.

he was the most successful and notorious bosses of the current era, your father trailing somewhere behind him. hence, your involvement.

a contract written up years ago between your father and hongjoongs father. then, hongjoong inherited his father's gang, and the members who held his closest friends. all he needed was a wife.

you.

it was truly your worst nightmare, sharing a home with a violent and dangerous man, with equally dangerous henchmen.

but you managed. you had your routine and adapted to the way of your new life. you could adapt to anything, it was one of your many talents.

hongjoong wasn’t a man of many words. on the field, giving orders, he was straight to the point and commanding. no time for jokes or anything of the sort. when hongjoong had a mission, it was to be done and done quickly without getting caught.

in and out.

however, in his time being the leader, he found it to be incredibly lonely. he had no one by his side, he was often left alone with his thoughts and an unlimited amount of liquor.

hongjoong always knew about the marriage; his father would hold it over his head whenever he acted out of place. truthfully, he didn’t know what to expect when that day came. but it wasn’t you.

you were normal. you dressed normal when you two were married. hongjoong told himself that he could easily ignore you and continue with his job.

you acted like he didn’t exist, you’d barely look his way, you wouldn’t even speak to him unless you were working.

eventually, hongjoong made it his mission to break your walls. he was growing tired of the nonchalant facade you had. he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t fathom how you just didn’t care.

because deep down, hongjoong cared immensely about you. more than he’d ever admit out loud.

the first time hongjoong ever actually treated you like his wife was during one of your first missions when both of you had to be present. something about a money laundering scandal on hongjoongs territory.

yeah, that didn’t last long.

the two of you walked in the gala, his hand around your waist. to your surprise, his touch was rather gentle and soft. hard to believe, coming from the man who could command a country with a wave of his finger.

he was accommodating your every need, making sure you were safe and secure by his side. though, you could easily fend for yourself.

“relax, sweetheart,” he’d whisper in your ear, out of earshot of everyone else. his breath was hot against your skin, pulling you back to reality. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

after that mission, you found it hard to view hongjoong with the person’s you had made up for him in your mind.

it’s cliche. you live with someone for two years, and you start to learn things about them. even if you didn’t share a bedroom or bed together.

you knew his favorite food, the way he’d stay up all night working on files while you’d be picking away at books from his library. you knew he stocked the library for you, he’d always has yunho on side missions to find books you had on your list to be read.

you hated how much you cared for him after so long. all because of that damn mission.

the walls of the mansion were covered with miscellaneous paintings, the dark oak complimenting the colors on the paint on the canvases. each stroke holding a story that the artist was trying to convey.

you sat across the stretched dining table from your husband. a glass of chardonnay in front of you on the table, and a novel in her lap.

tensions in the mansion had been high for a while now. it was to be expected since you were married to one of the most feared men in the country, and you, nonchalant, quiet, and reserved.

you scared most of the men working for hongjoong. wooyoung, mingi, and san probably fearing you the most. more than their boss. one look from you could shut them up in a heartbeat.

you curated that facade to navigate life when hongjoong wasn’t around.

god you were frightening.

secondly, hongjoong had been cheating on you for some time now and you didn’t care. after all, you had no say in this marriage. you’ve navigated life after being married for two years and going on missions by his side.

you were living the life you sworn off years ago, you wanted to live a life of normalcy and peace. you deserved that.

and now it was second nature. the fighting, the threats, the killing, the violence, and the ruthlessness that came with being married to kim hongjoong.

the others, bewildered by the fact that you even let him get away with sleeping with other women. often coming to you asking why you didn’t care, how you just brushed it off. to which you’d reply with, “we sleep in different rooms across the house. i could care less who he brings home”

and it usually got them to shut up.

but, it bother you. somewhere deep down, you wished he wouldn’t do it. but you figured he did it because he doesn’t love you.

hongjoong blatantly cheats in your presence. you personality, the quietness, the way you wouldn’t bat an eye when the woman he had in bed the previous night would waltz through the kitchen fumbling for her belongings. all while you sat at the table, sipping your morning beverage of choice.

he wanted to break through your icy exterior. no, he needed to.

hongjoong fails, though, since you always choose to ignore him.

"why aren’t you mad?" he questions, frowning.

looking up from the printed words on the paper, you find him sat in the leather chair in front of you.

your face doesn’t falter, you keep a calm and composed expression. finally speaking, “why would i be mad?” your tone is flat, not giving any indication as to your mood.

hongjoong leaned back in his chair, studying you like he always does. his blond locks mussed, eyes half-lidded as he watched you flip through the pages of your novel.

the light coming through the window illuminated your side profile, his gaze darkened, his slender fingers tapping against his arm in irritation. your nonchalant attitude was beginning to make him agitated.

"because any self-respecting wife would be furious right now." he replied, eyes narrowing.

you say nothing at first, fixating your eyes back to the book nestled in your lap. your free hand reaches for the crystal glass to raise it to your lips.

you know hongjoong is fuming, absolutely raging but you don’t falter. “wife is a strong word considering we don’t even share a room” you begin, returning the glass to its original spot.

“let alone love each other.”

over the past year, you’ve learned how to get under his skin by being the way you were. you didn’t care much about how you affected him, you were simply just coexisting.

hongjoong didn’t know the nights that you’d cry yourself to sleep, mourning the life you used to have.

hongjoong's lip curled upward in a bitter smile, eyes flashing with annoyance. he pushed himself off the chair and walked over to where you were sitting, his footsteps heavy against the floorboards of the manor.

“a wife is a wife. regardless if we share a bed or not.”

he leaned against the polished oak table, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze locked onto you as he stared at you for a few moments.

"who says i don’t love you?" he asked, a hint of mockery in his tone.

you still refuse to meet his gaze. you could even list the times you actually looked him in the eyes on one hand.

you hear him let out a laugh, a scoff, whatever, and he shuffled a few steps away.

you look up, finally ripping your eyes away from the pages, you close the book and move it to the table.

you let out a breath of air, sounding more like a scoff. “are you serious right now?”

you lean back against the chair, watching him. how he stands there watching you, his hand crossed over his frame.

“i am.” he bites.

hongjoong was seething at the fact that you've gotten used to this, he had expected anger, jealousy, but he was met with.. nothing.

you begin to chew on the insides of your gums, trying to find the words. “i don’t care what sleaze you bring home, hongjoong. i really don’t” you finally spit.

hongjoongs expression hardened upon hearing your words. he didn't like that you didn't care, didn't like that you didn't react like every other woman would. it was infuriating, yet fascinating at the same time.

he slammed a hand flat against the table, causing the glassware on it to rattle. his jaw was set in a tight line, teeth clenched in irritation.

you flinch, clenching your jaw. you inhale sharply trying to ground yourself.

hongjoong continues, “you’re my goddamn wife. you’re supposed to care!” he snapped, his voice rising.

"you’re supposed to be jealous, angry, sad. not act like you don't give a damn."

you shake your head, looking away from him again. you purse your lips as his words ring in your head. “what do you want me to say?”

hongjoong leans in, his hands gripping the edge of the oak table with so much force that his buckles are turning white.

"why don't you care? don’t you have any self-respect? don’t you have any damn feelings for me? I'm your husband!"

his words spill out of him like an overflowing river all while he’s staring at you intently.

“hongjoong-“ you try to interject, closing your eyes and holding out your hand. but, hongjoong is quick to shut it down. “damnit, y/n, look at me!”

“i know you are!” you finally break, the palm of your hand slamming on the table. the nonchalant facade slowly slipping away.

“i’m reminded every fucking day!” you hold up hand, showing the gold band on your ring finger.

“of course i have feelings for you, hongjoong! i’ve been in love with you for damn near two years now!” she spits.

hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise as you yelled back at him. he was not expecting such a reaction, not from you, not ever. his grip on the table loosened as you continued to speak, your words sinking in.

“you... what?” he sputtered, his expression morphing from anger to shock.

his mind tried to process your words, struggling to wrap his head around the fact that you had been in love with him this entire time. be had cheated, he had disrespected you, and yet... you still felt something for him. it was mind-boggling and almost unreal.

you run you hands over your face taking in a deep breath to calm yourself but it doesn’t work. “i was robbed of everything. my life, my decisions, the way i live. all of it.” you can feel the burning sensation in your chest, crawling up to your throat and turning into a lump.

you had never cried in front him before, and you didn’t want to now.

“i don’t even have a wedding..” you sigh, feeling tears well in her eyes. “i don’t even have a proper ring.”

and then you mentioned not getting a ring. it was such a simple thing, but it felt like a knife stabbing through his heart. the realization that he had neglected you, that he had treated you as if you were nothing, hit him like a ton of bricks.

he had been so focused on himself, on his own needs, that he had completely disregarded your feelings. and now, he was faced with the consequences of his actions. “y/n” his voice is hoarse

you stop him, shaking your head. you can feel the embarrassment running you fingers through your hair and looks down at the table.

“i can’t do this..” you mutter under your breath, followed by a sniffle as tears fall from your eyes. “just forget i said anything.”

hongjoongs hand shoots out instinctively, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as you attempt to leave. he tugs you back, forcing you to stay where you are.

you try to push away, try ripping your wrist from his grasp but he’s much stronger than you.

his expression is a mix of shock and disbelief, his eyes glued to your tear-streaked face.

"how can i forget it? you’ve been in love with me this entire time?"

his grip on your wrist tightens, almost as if he's afraid you'll slip away if he lets go. his eyes dart across yous face, studying you like he always does.

"why didn't you say anything?“ he asks, his tone almost desperate. "you should have told me.”

you stifle a cry, looking up at him again. clutching to the book with one hand with every fiber in your being.

“stop.” you try to cut him off but it doesn’t work.

hongjoong continues, “you shouldn't have let me keep on with the cheating, on the treating you like crap... you should have said—"

he cuts himself off, his voice catching in his throat.

you chew on your bottom lip while he continues. shaking your head, you felt like she was at her breaking point.

when he finished speaking, you looked into his eyes for the first time. your bottom lip quivers but you quickly composed yourself.

“we didn’t even say vows, hongjoong.” you begin, balling your free hand into a fist.

as far as i was concerned, this marriage was written on a piece of paper by our fathers.” she frowned. “i don’t know what else you want me to say.”

hongjoongs heart clenches, the weight of your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. you were right. you didn't have a proper wedding, you didn't even get a ring. it was all a sham, a means to an end. a way to secure a partnership, nothing more.

“y/n..”

and yet, somehow, he had hoped that there was something there. he had longed for some semblance of a normal marriage, one where he could come home to you and hold you in his arms at night. “please..” he asks.

the mansion is quiet, you walk down the dimly lit halls to your bedroom. with a turn of the doorknob you’re met with the welcoming smell of your bedroom.

it was barely lit up, a few warm toned lamps by your bedside were the only thing on. you flipped the light switch and kick off your shoes.

you just returned from a two day mission with seonghwa, your feet ached, body bruised, your head was reeling with a leaving pain behind your temples.

trudging over to your bed you didn’t acknowledge the neatly wrapped box on your pillow at first. too preoccupied with cleaning up so you could get into bed.

you took off your earrings, tossing them into a jewelry plate before finally looking down at your gray bed sheets and that’s when you spotted it.

there’s a letter next to it, you unfold it to see just a few simple words.

“let’s start over”

then, you pick up the small box and open it to reveal and gold wedding ring. your breath got caught in your throat, staring at the piece of jewelry.

it was dainty, yet extravagant. obviously hongjoong must’ve spent a pretty penny on it. you carefully slip it out of its box and onto your finger, replacing the band you once had.

maybe hongjoong wasn’t so bad after all.

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urfavdreamcatcher · 3 months ago

Note

hey cutie pie !! ive literally been obsessed with ur writing and re-reading ur george clarke fic 🤭. i was wondering if u could make a george clarke fic about reader being highschool sweethearts with him ( i dont know where id want it to go its completely up to you, ive just seen soso many photos of younger george in school and hes so cutesy and yum ) anyway bye bye xx

Sweetheart || George Clarke.

Part 1

Ur honestly so cute, I need to start re-reading my drafts and publishing them.. currently have inside ep 1,2 in my drafts rn😩 BUT THANK YOU CUTIE!! Hope you like this 😊

Summary: She’s the school’s star cheerleader, and he’s the cocky rugby player who drives her up the wall. They’ve been at each other’s throats for as long as they can remember petty arguments, competitive banter, stolen glances that last too long.

But when Charlie, one of George’s teammates, starts flirting a little too shamelessly, the rivalry between them shifts into something sharper, more personal. Because George hates it—hates the way Charlie talks about her, the way he looks at her.

And one day, he snaps.

George x reader, fem!reader , explicit language

There most definitely will be a part 2 to this!!

ENJOY!!

———————————————————————-

If there was one person in the entire school who could ruin my day in under five seconds, it was George Clarkey.

And unfortunately, he seemed to be everywhere.

“You’re glaring again,” my best friend, Liv, pointed out, nudging me with her elbow.

I tore my eyes away from the rugby pitch, where George was currently jogging back to his position, annoyingly smug even while covered in mud. His school rugby shirt was practically clinging to him, damp from the drizzle, and his curls were messy from where he kept ruffling them.

Not that I noticed. Obviously.

“I’m not glaring,” I said, flipping my ponytail over my shoulder. “I’m just… observing.”

Liv snorted. “Right. Observing how fit he looks?”

I turned to her, horrified. “Absolutely not. He’s—ugh insufferable. Cocky, irritating, never stops talking. Did I mention cocky?”

“Only about a hundred times.”

And, as if on cue, George spotted me from across the field. A slow smirk spread across his face, like he knew he was annoying me just by existing.

He jogged a bit closer and called out, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You here to support me, sweetheart?”

I clenched my jaw, ignoring the way my stomach flipped at that ridiculous nickname.

“Please,” I shot back, hands on my hips. “If I wanted to watch someone roll around in the mud, I’d get a dog.”

His teammates howled with laughter, clapping him on the back. But George? He just grinned, jogging backwards like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“You’re obsessed with me, admit it!”

“In your dreams, Clarkey!”

The thing about George was that he thrived on winding me up. Which meant I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that, no matter how annoying he was..he also made my heart race in a way that I hated.

George and I had been at each other’s throats since Year 9. It started when he made a very loud, very wrong comment about how cheerleading wasn’t a real sport. I may have responded by stealing his boots before a big match. He retaliated by swapping my water bottle with vinegar during training.

From there, it spiralled. Pranks, insults, who can annoy the other the most. It was our thing.

So when we walked into history the next day and the teacher started reading out partner assignments for our coursework, I wasn’t worried. There was no way she’d put me with George. She knew we were a disaster waiting to happen.

But then—

“George Clarkey and [ ].”

The entire room went silent.

Someone actually gasped.

I blinked. “You’re joking.”

George, sitting two seats away, let out a low whistle. “Ooh. That’s unfortunate for you, sweetheart.”

The teacher ignored both of us. “You’ll be working together on this project for the next few weeks, so I suggest you figure out a way to get along.”

I turned to George, who was already watching me with that bloody smirk. “You better actually do work,” I muttered as I slid into the seat next to him.

He leaned in slightly, voice low enough that only I could hear. “What, scared to spend time with me?”

My breath hitched annoyingly but I masked it with an unimpressed look. “Scared you’ll get shown up by me, more like.”

His grin deepened, all challenge and amusement. “This is gonna be fun.”

I had a horrible feeling he was right.

———————————————————————

I hated being partnered with George. I really did.

But if there was one small silver lining to this absolute disaster of a situation, it was that his best mate, Charlie, was actually a decent person.

Charlie was in my maths class, and we’d always gotten along well enough. Unlike George, he wasn’t constantly winding me up or trying to make my life miserable. And, unlike George, he didn’t seem to think cheerleading was a joke.

“You’re well unlucky,” Charlie said with a sympathetic smile as we walked out of class together. “Being stuck with Clarkey, I mean. Absolute nightmare, that one.”

I snorted. “Tell me about it.”

He grinned. “If you need someone to rant to, I’m happy to volunteer.”

And then, before I could even respond, George appeared out of nowhere, stepping right between us like some sort of human barricade.

“Alright, mate?” George clapped Charlie on the back a bit too hard. “Didn’t know you were trying to steal my project partner.”

Charlie laughed, glancing at me. “She’s your problem now, not mine.”

George turned to me, eyebrows raised. “That true, sweetheart? You going round complaining about me already?”

I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t have to. Everyone already knows you’re unbearable.”

He smirked. “And yet, here you are, walking with my mate. What, trying to get closer to me through him?”

Charlie shot him a look. “Don’t be a nob, Clarkey.”

George laughed like he wasn’t being completely insufferable, but something flickered in his expression something I couldn’t quite place.

I ignored it. Instead, I turned to Charlie and smiled. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

His face lit up in a way that made something twist in my stomach.

I wasn’t oblivious I’d noticed the way Charlie looked at me lately. The way he found excuses to talk to me, to sit next to me in class. And, if I was honest, I liked the attention.

It wasn’t like that but it was nice. Unlike George, who lived to annoy me, Charlie was easy to talk to.

Apparently, George hated that.

Because as soon as Charlie walked off, he let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his damp curls. “Fucking hell. If I have to watch him flirt with you for the next few weeks, I might actually lose my mind.”

I crossed my arms, tilting my head. “What’s your problem?”

He scoffed. “Charlie never shuts up about you. It’s pathetic.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you can flirt with half the school, but the second someone likes me, it’s a problem?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t flirt with everyone.”

I let out a humourless laugh. “Right. You just call everyone ‘sweetheart’ and wink at anything that moves.”

George’s smirk twitched slightly, but there was something else behind it now, something a little more serious.

“You jealous, love?” His voice was lower now, teasing, but not in his usual careless way.

I stared at him. “Of what?”

He stepped closer. Not enough to be obvious, not enough to draw attention, but enough. Enough that I caught the scent of his aftershave, enough that my pulse betrayed me completely.

“Of them,” he murmured. “The girls I flirt with.”

I refused to let him get to me. Refused to let him know that my brain was currently short circuiting from the way he was looking at me.

So I forced a smirk, tilting my head up defiantly. “Not even a little bit.”

Lie. Massive, massive lie.

But George just hummed, stepping back with a knowing glint in his eyes. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

And then he was walking off, leaving me standing there, heart hammering, absolutely furious that he could still get under my skin like that.

But come to think of it, I wasn’t encouraging Charlie. Not really.

But I also wasn’t stopping him.

Because, if nothing else, watching George Clarkey’s jaw clench every time Charlie spoke to me was quickly becoming one of my new favourite things.

“Here, let me carry that for you,” Charlie offered, reaching for my books as we walked out of the library.

I raised an eyebrow. “I can carry my own books, you know.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m trying to be chivalrous.”

I rolled my eyes but let him take them anyway. “What a gentleman.”

Charlie was easy to be around. He was funny, charming, and unlike George he didn’t actively make it his mission to wind me up constantly.

Which is exactly why I shouldn’t have been even remotely surprised when George appeared out of nowhere, stepping directly between us like a human roadblock.

“Oi, Charlie,” he said, completely ignoring me. “Didn’t know you’d started a new career as a personal assistant.”

Charlie let out a short laugh. “It’s called being nice, Clarkey. You should try it sometime.”

George’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and unreadable. “Think she can manage carrying her own books, though.”

Charlie shrugged. “Yeah, but I offered.”

George let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he was physically restraining himself from saying something stupid. Which was rare for him, considering he never shut up.

“Whatever,” he muttered, finally turning to me. “You ready for this project thing or what?”

I gave him a look. “You mean the thing you were ten minutes late for?”

He smirked. “Took my time. Knew you’d still be here flirting with Charlie, anyway.”

I scoffed, ignoring the way my face betrayed me completely by heating up. “I was not—”

“Anyway,” Charlie cut in, clearing his throat. He handed my books back, giving me a quick smile. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah, see you.”

The second he was gone, George let out a short, irritated breath.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. “You really like entertaining him, don’t you?”

I turned to him, crossing my arms. “And what exactly is your problem with that?”

He scoffed. “No problem.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Right. That’s why you keep glaring at him like he’s personally offended you.”

George rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s just—” He paused, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

But now I was curious. I stepped forward, tilting my head. “He’s just what?”

George exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath before meeting my gaze again. “He’s a mate, alright? And I know for a fact that if he actually asked you out, it wouldn’t just be some little flirt for him.”

I frowned. “And what if he did ask me out?”

George went completely still.

I almost laughed at the look on his face like the thought had genuinely never occurred to him before. Like he hadn’t actually considered the possibility that I might actually say yes.

Then his jaw tensed.

“You wouldn’t,” he said simply.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

George met my gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his usual cocky, irritating expression.

Then he smirked, leaning in slightly just enough to make my breath hitch.

“Because,” he murmured, “you’d get bored of him in about a week.”

My stomach flipped. Stupid. So stupid.

I straightened my shoulders, forcing a scoff. “And you think I wouldn’t get bored of you?”

George’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. “You’d never get bored of me.”

My heart was pounding now, and I hated him for it. Hated the way he could do this push my buttons, wind me up, and still make my stomach do stupid, ridiculous flips all at once.

So I forced a smile. A sweet, fake, infuriatingly polite smile.

“Watch me.”

Then I turned and walked off, knowing full well that George Clarkey was still watching me the entire way.

And, if I wasn’t completely losing my mind, I think I just made things even worse.

——————————————————————

At first, it was just light teasing compliments here, cheeky comments there. And I didn’t mind it. In fact, I enjoyed it. Not because I fancied him, but because of the way George absolutely lost his mind every time Charlie so much as looked at me.

But lately, it had shifted.

Charlie had started getting… bolder. The lingering touches, the low murmurs when no one else was listening. And while I’d brushed it off at first, something about it felt off.

I just hadn’t realised how off until I overheard exactly what he was saying about me.

The changing room was loud with the usual post-training banter—laughter, the sound of boots being tossed aside, the occasional thud of someone slamming a locker shut. Charlie was in the middle of a story, half-dressed, stretching out his sore muscles.

Then her name came up.

A few heads turned, but no one stopped him. Charlie had been talking about her a lot lately—more than usual. Flirting with her in the corridors, finding excuses to be around her. But today, there was a different edge to his words.

A low chuckle. “Mate, I swear, the things I’d do to her…”

George stilled.

“Bet she’s a little tease in private, all attitude in public but proper desperate behind closed doors.”

Someone snorted. Someone else muttered, “Behave, mate.” But no one stopped him.

“I’d have her screaming my name by the end of the night.”

The sound of boots hitting the floor, a sharp inhale—then a sudden, violent slam.

Charlie’s back hit the lockers with a heavy thud.

The room went silent.

George stood in front of him, fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes burning with something dangerous.

“Shut your f**king mouth, Charlie.”

A stunned pause. Then, Charlie let out a short, breathless laugh. “The f**k, Clarkey?”

George didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Say that again. I f**king dare you.”

Charlie’s smirk flickered, like he couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off or amused. “Oh, come on. It’s just banter.”

“Banter?” The word came out slow, sharp.

Charlie scoffed. “Don’t tell me you care. It’s not like she’s yours.”

The tension in the room snapped, thick enough to choke on.

Every muscle in George’s body was drawn tight, like he was barely holding himself back. A challenge hung in the air, unspoken but blistering.

Then, movement in the doorway.

Her voice.

“George?”

Everything stopped.

Heads turned. A few of the boys suddenly found something very interesting about their boots.

She stood in the entrance, eyes locked on George, gaze flicking between him and Charlie. Something shifted in her expression—realisation, understanding.

And then, without a word, she walked past Charlie like he wasn’t even there.

Straight to George.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist. A small but deliberate touch.

No one spoke.

Charlie let out a breath, muttering something under his breath, but no one laughed this time.

A moment passed.

Then she tugged George towards the door, and he let her.

The second they were gone, the silence broke.

“Mate, what the f**k was that?” someone muttered.

No one had an answer. But everyone knew. Something had just changed.

The walk from the changing room was silent.

She hadn’t let go of his wrist. Not until they were outside, away from the laughter, the echo of boots against the floor, the lingering weight of what just happened.

When she finally did, George exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp curls. His whole body was still wired with anger, every muscle tense.

She watched him carefully, arms crossed. “What the hell was that?”

George let out a sharp, humourless laugh, looking away. “You heard what that dickhead was saying.”

“Yeah, I did,” she shot back. “But why do you care so much?”

That question hit him like a punch to the gut.

His jaw clenched. “Are you fucking serious?”

She stepped closer, voice low. “Yes, George. I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a complete lunatic every time Charlie so much as looks at me. And now you’re starting fights in the changing room? What is your problem?”

George scoffed, shaking his head. “My problem? My problem is that he talks about you like you’re some fucking thing to win.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away.

George huffed out another breath, stepping back. “Forget it. You clearly don’t care.”

A beat of silence. Then..

“You think I don’t care?”

Her voice was quiet, but something in it made him pause.

He turned back, and—fuck

She wasn’t just angry. She was hurt.

Something twisted in his chest, hard and sudden.

She shook her head, looking at him like she was finally seeing it. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you’re the only one who’s pissed off, George. You think I liked hearing him say that? You think I liked knowing you were about to..” She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

George let out a slow breath, dragging a hand over his face. “I wasn’t—” He stopped. Swallowed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No shit,” she muttered.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

A gust of wind blew past, the only sound between them. The usual noise of the school a distant shout from the pitch, the sound of doors slamming felt muffled, like they were in their own space, locked in this moment neither of them knew how to get out of.

George exhaled. “Look.” His voice came out quieter than before, rough around the edges. “I just” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

She hated when he did that started a sentence, then shut it down like it didn’t matter.

So she stepped forward, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Say it.”

His jaw ticked. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Say it, George.”

And that was it. That was the breaking point.

Because before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, raw and reckless

“Of course it fucking matters!”

Her breath caught.

George shoved a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I hate it. I hate watching him flirt with you. I hate the way he talks about you. I hate” He stopped, shaking his head. “I hate that you don’t fucking see it.”

Silence.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “See what?”

George let out a harsh laugh, bitter and frustrated, because seriously?

He stepped closer. Not like before not teasing, not playful. This was something different. Something that made the air between them feel thick, heavy, electric.

“Jesus Christ.” His voice was lower now, rough. “You, sweetheart. You think I’ve been acting like this for fun? You think I don’t care?” His breath was uneven, and he hated it. Hated that she could do this to him. “I care too fucking much, and it’s ruining me.”

The words hung there, unshakable.

She didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Then slowly, carefully she reached for his wrist.

Soft, hesitant.

And George who was always so loud, so sure, so quick with a comeback went completely, utterly still.

Something in his chest tightened.

Her fingers curled slightly, just enough to keep him there. Not pulling, not pushing. Just holding on.

And George?

George let her.

Because he was done fighting it.

The weight of George’s words still hung in the air, thick and impossible to ignore.

“I care too fucking much, and it’s ruining me.”

She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. Just stood there, fingers still wrapped around his wrist soft, hesitant, deliberate.

George didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare.

Because if he did, if he let himself feel this properly, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and it was too much the way her gaze softened, the way she was holding onto him like she finally understood.

“George,” she said, voice quieter now, like the fight had drained out of her.

And it wrecked him.

Because he’d spent so long pretending acting like none of this mattered, like she wasn’t under his skin in ways that no one else had ever been.

But now?

Now she was so close.

And he couldn’t pretend anymore.

His free hand lifted without thinking, fingers brushing against her jaw, tentative, testing giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

If anything, she leaned into it.

Something inside him snapped.

Before either of them could talk themselves out of it, he tilted his head and closed the space between them, pressing his lips against hers.

Soft at first hesitant, searching but then she made a small, breathless sound against his mouth, and it sent something crashing through him.

His hands moved, gripping her waist, pulling her closer, like he was making up for every second he’d wasted pushing her away.

She kissed him back like she’d been waiting for this just as long, fingers twisting in his hoodie, holding him there, like she needed this too.

And God, he was gone for her. Completely, helplessly gone.

When they finally pulled apart, their breathing was uneven, faces still close.

Her fingers were still curled into his hoodie. His hands were still on her waist.

And George who had always been so cocky, so sure of himself could barely get his voice to work.

“Sweetheart…” His forehead rested against hers, voice rough, breathless. “Tell me I haven’t just completely fucked this up.”

A small, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

“You think I’d kiss you like that if you had?”

George huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, thumb tracing absent circles on her hip.

“You’re a tease,” he murmured.

She grinned. “And you love it.”

He did.

And for once, he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

#tumblr fyp #george clarke #george clarke fics #george clarke imagine #george clarke smut #george clarkey #george x reader #george clarke fluff #moodboard #fypシ

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shadowbriar · 6 months ago

Text

Bucky Barnes — Make a Lover of an Enemy

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x (she/her) agent!Reader Word Count : 4.1k Warning : Kissing. Foul words. Cliffhanger. Synopsis : A kiss exchanged during a mission has made Bucky toss and turn in turmoil. Notes : don't ask me for part two, idk if i can write another part that could live up to this fic. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The itchiness around his neck was only getting worse as he whisked himself deeper into the crowd. He hates undercover ops, especially ones where he’s out in the open with no knowledge of what he’s up against. It wasn’t that he was afraid—he made peace with fear years ago to ever actually be bothered by it—he was more anxious about the other end of this rope. The partner that he’s supposed to cavort with.

“Lose the frown a little, you’re scaring all the women,”

Bucky closes his eyes in annoyance, breathing in a good amount of air to help ease the building temper as he speaks through the comm, “I have no business with the women here,”

“Yeah? Where do you have business with women, then?”

“Will you hurry up on finding this Gerald, already?”

“I’m working on it,” she seethes, taking a sip of her champagne “And it’s Harold, not Gerald,”

“Doesn’t matter what the asshole’s name is, just get the intel,”

Bucky could see from where he stands, one of the big pillars where he’s currently seeking discretion from, the vexation that’s threatening to bleed out of her. The ridiculously low cut of the back of her dress was making it easy for him to see the rise and fall of her shoulders, moving in an undeniably provoked manner. He’s pulled her hair alright, just like she pulled his.

His ears were still partly deaf from all the arguments they’ve shared over the past days. At this point, Bucky couldn’t decide if he should strangle or drown Sam for setting him up with her for this mission. A whole week of undercover, sharing one single hotel room where he would grumbly sleep on the floor because he’s too vexed to share it with her, was more than enough reason for him to ultimately end Wilson’s life.

It was the most cruel joke. Out of billions of people in this world, millions that he’s met, and thousands that he’s worked with, she just has to be the one person he could never find the middle ground with. There’s always something wrong, something to argue about whenever it comes to her. She’d always take too long to decide, too much calculations, and too much demands that it would just drive him nuts. Pairing him with her was certainly a choice. An absurd, diabolical choice.

Bucky’s train of bitter thoughts were put on a halt as he watched a man advance to her. He fits the description of Gerald—Harold. The three bodyguards that are doing their worst attempt of pretend-guests were following him like bees, making it easier for him to pinpoint their target.

“Cupcake at three o’clock,”

“Cupcake?” she asks, a sense of amusement evident in her tone.

“Harold,”

“I know what you meant, but cupcake? Really? Couldn’t have picked a better codename, James?”

Once again, Bucky seethes in anger. Even when he tipped her off, she still couldn’t find it in her goodwill to thank him and criticises his choice of word instead. He watches with bottled anger as she pretends to play with her earring, clicking on the item so that the comm would pick up the surrounding noise as their target approaches.

“Excuse me, Miss,” Harold greets her, plastering his disgustingly wide smile for her “You seem a bit lost, would you like a little help?”

“Oh, is it that obvious?” she feigns an embarrassed laughter, leaning on him to whisper “I was actually trying to hide from my partner. He’s been too much of a pain in my arse all evening, but I supposed I wandered a bit too far away, I couldn’t find my way back now,”

Bucky rolls his eyes, listening to their conversation in silence.

Harold chuckles, offering an arm for her, “Well, I reckon you wouldn’t mind another’s companion, then?”

“Certainly, Mister..?”

“Bricks, Harold Bricks,” the man introduces himself “I can show you around the club, if you’d like. Maybe we can find your partner then,”

She encircles his arm, smiling in an alluring way, “I would love that very much, Mr. Bricks,”

“Please, call me Harry,”

Bucky mocks their conversation in his head. He knows that being one of the most elite agents from SHIELDS, she must possess better than most skill sets and exceptional proficiencies, but watching her have Bricks right in the hook, boasting about all his illegal assets to her and spilling every illicit informations, Bucky would be lying if he says he isn’t impressed.

Now he keeps his distance from the flock. Walking a few metres behind, but still close enough to rescue her should anything happen. Not that she would need it. The three bodyguards that are following them would only be like a fight against toddlers for her should they try anything. Still, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

“What about your study? I know men like you love to keep his toys where they spend most of their time,” she lures, leaning even closer to him now that it makes Bucky’s stomach twist for some reason “What would a girl find in your study, Harry?”

Bricks smirks as he moves his arm and places his hand on her waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of her low cut dress, “See, unlike any other men, I don’t waste too much time in my study. Why stay in just one room when you have a whole manor to occupy?”

And that’s when he knew he needed to step in.

Bucky rushes to her, not even bothered to hide the disgusted look on his face as he stops her, “We’re going.”

“Cupcake,” she greets, showing slight surprise of his unannounced presence “This is my friend, Mr. Harold Bricks. He’s been kind enough to show me around the club after I lost you in the crowd,”

“Pleased to meet you,” Bricks greets, taking the hand off of her and offering it to Bucky “The lady was distraught looking for you, I thought it would help to ease her mind by walking around the place,”

“How thoughtful,” Bucky comments unimpressed “Come on, we have to go,”

“You go ahead, Dear. Let me bid my goodbye to Harry,”

Bucky stares at her with a disapproving look, questioning why she would still spend another second with this repulsing man, but nodded anyway as he walked a few metres away. Waiting for her behind yet another pillar.

“I see the kind of pain you’re talking about,” Harold comments with a sneer.

“That’s hardly a fraction of what I truly have to bear,” she replies, this time placing a kiss on his cheek “Thank you for everything, Harry. You’ve no idea how much you’ve made my night,”

She walks away from Bricks, readjusting her comm as she walks to Bucky’s direction.

“It’s in his study,” she says as she joins him, walking on his side with long strides.

“Yeah, I heard,” he scoffed “Along with that pathetically disgusting attempt you call flirting,”

“Hey, I got the work done, alright! You think I want his filthy hand on me, rubbing his scummy fingers on my skin? I’m disgusted, alright, no need to rub me in,”

Bucky huffs in annoyance. He takes two glasses of champagne from the passing waiter, gulping down one after the other to help keep himself collected. The anger boiling in his veins is getting too hard to be kept to the curb.

“You’re not supposed to drink during missions,”

“Yeah, well, none of the alcohol served here is gonna get me drunk, so don’t twist your panties, woman,”

“What’s the point of drinking if you can’t get drunk, then? Isn’t that what you wanted to do, to lose a few screws in your head?”

“Can you just— Shut up for a few minutes?!” he explodes, pressing on the lift button “Please, just a few minutes of silence until we get to his study, is that really too much to ask?”

She glares at him, disapproving of his little outburst but shuts her mouth nonetheless.

This part of the mansion was eerily too quiet. No guests nor waiters crowding the hallways. There were a few cameras on the corners, ones that she could easily override through her watch, but other than those, the corridor was pretty much defenceless.

It took them little to no time to find Bricks’ study. The place was decorated with books and paintings that are too pristine, undusted to the point that they looked like they’ve never been touched by anything other than the fine feathers of a duster. Perhaps Bricks was an honest man, he never did step in his study.

She immediately looked for the reports in the stack of papers by the table while Bucky busied himself with the books by the cabinet. The piece of paper they’re looking for might be anywhere in this twenty five metre square room. They just have to figure out where someone would hide some confidential information in a room that they never even bother to visit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bucky mutters as he hits the jackpot, looking at the stack of unopened letters “Is this guy stupid or what?”

She rolls her eyes, taking the piece of paper before tucking it in his chest pocket, “Come on. We better go before they realise I hijacked their cameras,”

Bucky follows as she leads the way out of the room. Their breath of relief was short lived as one of the patrolling guards caught Bucky’s shadow, calling him out as they began to run through the hallways.

“You know we can just punch these guys, right?” Bucky says he matches her pace.

“No, we have to do this discreetly. Bricks might become a useful asset for us,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you bullshitting me? He’s a criminal!”

“He’s a criminal with connections, we can use him!” she argues “Just run faster, alright? I’m with heels and I can still outpace you without breaking a sweat,”

Bucky lets out a small growl of annoyance, picking up a pace that he’s now in front of her.

They begin to look for an escape by turning each of the door handles, him checking on the left while she on the right. The mansion was big, but it seems like they’re reaching the end of it as they find no other turn to take. The right door by the end of the brick wall was their only hope of salvation but when she turned to face him, her back pressed against the white door and hand still clutched to the handle, the shake of her head was all Bucky needed to reach for the minigun in his suit.

But before he could take it out, before he could point it to the direction of where the guards were coming, she pushed his hand back in, “No,”

“What are you doing?” he asked, clearly confused about the course of action she’s taking.

“Just— Don’t punch me, alright?”

There was no time for another question as Bucky felt her lips pressed against his. She has one of her legs up, rubbing onto his upper thigh in a seductive manner that he couldn’t help but to hold it there, putting a hand to keep her thigh locked on his waist line. His other hand now rests on her neck, pulling her face closer as he deepens the kiss. Whatever dam that was around them has bursted, flowing with a tidal wave of emotions he wasn’t even familiar with.

Her hands were reaching for the paper in his suit before they found themselves around his neck, clutching onto him like he was her one tether to life. Their kiss was vigorous, almost animalistic as their teeth clash with each other. Bucky’s hands were just about to pull her other leg up to his waist before the guards finally called them.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Sir, Ma’am,”

“Oh, good God!” she exclaims, flushed from all the action the two of them have just committed “How embarrassing. Please, excuse us—”

“Not so fast, Ma’am,” the other guard says, stopping her from leaving “We’re gonna have to search you,”

“Search us?” she feigns deep insult from the inquiry “Whatever would you need us searched for?”

“It's just standard procedure, Ma’am. You’re not supposed to be on this side of the mansion. I’m sure you understand,”

“No, I don’t. Cupcake, tell them that this is ridiculous,”

Bucky was still quiet, not saying a word.

Getting a little worried at his lack of response, she places a hand on his cheek and asks genuinely, “Hey, are you alright?”

“Alright, Ma’am, please step aside so we can search the both of you. This shouldn’t take too long,”

Bucky was still in a daze as the men began to run their hands around his clothes, not even giving the slightest blink when their hands were far too close to the gun he hides underneath. His eyes were still on her as he watched another guard search for her too. The only thing breaking his silence was when the guard’s hand was a little too close to her breasts, “Touch her any second longer and I’ll rip those hands off of you,”

She was stunned. Blinking as she tries to digest the venom that was thick in his tone. If he was just trying to keep the piece of paper she now hides under her bra safe from the guard’s search, then there’s no doubt to his apparent success, but the fury that was filling his eyes tells another story. Bucky’s eyes were locked on the guard now, showing on full display that he’s not the man you should mess with. A sight that she’s not sure she’s ever seen before, even after the countless missions they’ve done in the past.

“Gentlemen, I believe this is just a big misunderstanding,” she says, trying to diffuse the tension “Me and my partner might have just taken a little too much of the champagne and stumbled ourselves in places we don’t belong. Please convey my apology to Harry, we mean no harm,”

“You’re Mr. Bricks’ guest?” one of the guards asks.

“Why, yes, he’s a close friend of mine,” she says with a smile “We just took the wrong turn on one of these corridors, we didn’t mean to intrude on anything,”

The guards were exchanging looks now, clearly debating if they should let them go or bring this up to their boss.

“Or perhaps you could just lead us to Harry so I could explain and apologise to him myself?”

“No, there would be no need, Ma’am. We’re all good here,” one of the guards finally says, letting their hold on Bucky lose “Just don’t wander around,”

“Of course. We’ll find ourselves out. Thank you, gentlemen,”

Bucky’s eyes were still locked on the one guard that searched her as she pulled him out of the scene. He saw how the other guards opened the door of the room they were standing in front of, raising his brows as he thought it was locked.

He looks up front to see her. Her hand was still clasped with his, her dainty fingers interlocking with his gloved ones. Bucky takes a painful swallow, wondering what the hell just happened and how he’s supposed to take it in. Whatever it is that made her pull such a stunt was far beyond his comprehension. A little too bizarre, a little too unpredicted, a little too astonishing, but it certainly would be a lie if Bucky says he wasn’t pleased with it.

—-

Days passed fast and nights stretched incredibly long now that they’re back in the compound. Neither of them tried to melt the invisible barrier between them that’s altered from a concrete brick wall into an icy glass confinement. The silence that fell whenever they’re in the same room has only grown thicker, added by the new sense of tension and stolen glances that lingered a little longer than it did before.

Bucky didn’t know where to start or if he should do anything about it. The memory of that night from Bricks’ mansion always plays in his head before sleep like a broken record. A daunting introduction to the nightmare that would follow once he closes his eyes. He wonders if he should’ve said something on the way back, if he should have asked the one billion dollar question as they checked out of the hotel. He asks himself if there’s anything he should’ve done, anything he should’ve said before time spoils his short window to crush this conundrum.

Now trying to find the chance to bump into her, Bucky couldn’t recall if she’s always been this busy before their last mission. It was practically impossible to see her during the day. She was always out for some meetings with the government or entangling herself with reports and plans for future missions. He could still count it with one hand the few times he’s met her when the sun was still out after their return. They didn’t even get the chance to do their reporting together. Another thing for him to ponder at night: is she avoiding him?

“Are you even listening, Barnes?” Sam asks, sounding a little annoyed at the distracted man.

“No,” Bucky answers honestly, readjusting his seat “Sorry, can you repeat that again?”

Sam sighs, placing the report papers on his hand to the table, “I was saying, that as per the requests made before your last mission, you’re eligible for a week of vacation, but given the prosperous intel you’ve given us, I don’t think they would’ve minded if you take another extra week,”

“Right, the vacation,” Bucky sighs, rubbing his forehead.

It was one of the special requests she made before they agreed to sign up for the mission. At that time, Bucky thought that a week off sounded like a pass to heaven, especially since he’d be doing the mission with her—the very bane of his existence—but now that the mission’s past and a new splinter nested between them, Bucky feels rather regretful that he’s agreed to such a clause.

“So where’s she going then? For her vacation?” Bucky asks as he takes the report papers off of Sam’s hand.

“Nowhere. She’s not taking it.”

Bucky’s brow raised, looking up to meet Sam’s eyes, “What do you mean she’s not taking it? She’s the one who requested it,”

“I know, but she’s just not taking it,”

“Well, where is she then? I haven’t seen her in days,”

“West,”

“West? What’s she doing in West?”

“She’s looking for new intel about the suspected Hydra base around the area. Listen, I’m not supposed to be talking to you about this—,”

“I thought Sharon was taking that mission?”

“She was—,”

“Then why is she the one in West?”

“I don’t know, okay! Stop interrogating me, man, I’m not one of your suspects,” Sam bursts, but his anger was quick to simmer when he looked at the confusion in Bucky’s eyes “Look, I don’t know why she’s not taking her leave or why she’s in West now. All I know, and I’m not even supposed to tell you, is that she was looking for new missions right after you both came back. Now I don’t know what happened between you two in that mission, but whatever it is, I think you should really take that break and ease down a little,”

Bucky flashes an insulted look, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, man, you tell me! Why is she suddenly a workaholic now? And why are you an even bigger brooder than you usually are?”

“I don’t brood,” Bucky argues.

“Yes, you do,” Sam snorts “Much, much worse since the mission,”

Bucky glares, not sparing a word to say.

“Look, just take the vacation, Buck. Whatever issue you have with her, you can ask her yourself when you’re back,” Sam reasoned, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder in persuasion “Take the leave, come back in a week,”

Bucky nodded with a tight lip, watching as Sam leaves him alone in the meeting room.

He runs a hand through his hair in despair. So it’s true, she is avoiding him. Now the next question rings louder in his ears: why?

Was the hostility he showed towards the guards scared her? Was the possessiveness that leaked through his tone made her uncomfortable? Was the lack of response he showed as she dragged him away from the mansion irked her?

So many questions, so little answers.

—-

By the third day of staying in his apartment, doing nothing but watching cheap programs on the television and drinking cold beer throughout the day, Bucky realised that this vacation was doing him more harm than good. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. How she must be using her charm, coaxing all the information she could gather with her sweet words and that God gifted smile that would always tug on her lips whenever she wanted something.

That goddamn smile.

A beautiful ghost that haunts his mind, giving no space for anything else. He’s been living less life, sleepless with no rest as his eyes glued on the ticking hand of the clock. He worries not about her safety, hell, he knew better than to doubt her ability to handle herself. What worries him, he couldn’t even put a word.

Bucky knew, more often than not, that the sentiments he held for her were not so typical. He wasn’t just irritated nor bothered by her relenting arguments. The questions she asked and the orders she demanded were ones he would agree to most of the time. Yet, he still couldn’t stop himself from toying around with her. From jabbing on her stance a little too frequently than he should. He loves their squabbles. Their headstrong quarrels that would make his heart beat a little faster in his chest. He yearns for their arguments, keen on having her vexed over some stupid question he would throw or a slight change of action from what she’s ordered him to do.

To hell with the vacation, he thought as he grabbed his keys.

There’s no telling what his ride would lead up. He’s not even sure he would still have the courage to ask her the question that’s been plaguing his mind. If he would even have the strength to drag himself and find her. But staying put gives him no better remedy. He needs to do something, to at least try and give whatever it is he’s feeling a fight. Whatever he will do then would be a question to be asked in the future.

And so he drives. Riding his bike through the night, ignoring the cold wind that seeps through the zipper of his leather jacket. The only thing in his mind was: the faster he got there, the faster he could find her and see if he could actually get some answers. That’s all that matters.

An hour turns into two as he reaches the hotel where she’s supposed to be staying. It’s far too late at night for him to find her now, so he reckons to just book a room and hope to see her during breakfast. That would be the better plan to take, to just lie his teeth out when they meet and say it was a coincidence because he was supposed to be on vacation, than to wait in the lobby the whole night like the complete stalker he discreetly is.

Bucky tossed the keys of his bike to the valet, walking in with his hands deep in his pocket. He didn’t even bring any clothes with him. An utter idiocy that he’s realised a little too late now.

“I’d like to book a room, please,” he says to the receptionist, tapping on the marbled table as he begins to feel the ache from the drive settling in.

The woman begins to prepare his booking, collecting his ID and card to secure his payment. He studies the hotel, taking in the unfamiliar setting to try and ease his mind. He runs his thumb on his lower lip, scratching the non itchy spot just to try to distract his mind from creating imaginative scenarios of their ‘accidental’ reunion.

But the thought of their happenstance encounter was put to a halt when his gaze found a familiar face. She enters the hotel, waist being held by some random man that he’s never seen before, not even on the reports he snitched from Sam. This face was new, a stranger, yet the comfortable smile on her face shows nothing but pleasant affinity. She leans her head on his arm, giggling when he seals their lips together.

It feels like all air was being sucked out of his lungs. Bucky’s gut twisted, a steel knife stuck on his windpipe. Suddenly, it all makes sense. She was an elite spy, afterall. Acting the part is what she does. Her brain is wired to take whatever action necessary to get the job done, even when such action might affect someone a little differently than her.

What they shared at Bricks’ Mansion meant nothing for her. Not the gentle touch, not the sweet vulnerable stare, not the kiss, nothing. They were all just part of the job. Nothing more, nothing less.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff

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notyourjaem · 1 year ago

Text

CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol

☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)

☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)

☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?

☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k

☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.

BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!

You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.

“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.

“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.

Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.

“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.

You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”

Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”

“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”

Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”

You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.

“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”

“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.

“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.

“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.

“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.

“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.

“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.

“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”

You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.

Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”

“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“

Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”

You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”

“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”

“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”

Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”

You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.

“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.

“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.

“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”

Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.

Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.

“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.

“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”

You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.

Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.

You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.

“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.

“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.

Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.

“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.

He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.

Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.

“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.

“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.

You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.

“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.

“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.

You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.

“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.

You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.

“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.

“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”

“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.

“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”

The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.

“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.

Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.

“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.

“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.

The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.

“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.

He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”

You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”

Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”

☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun

#seventeen smut #choi seungcheol smut #s coups smut #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #s coups x reader

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linddzz · 7 months ago

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I intended to write out ONE scene for the early days of Team Hextech, but these dweebs completely derailed me into an entirely different scene by establishing nicknames.

So here's a teaser of sorts for the wider fic @amahhi and I are working on, which is going to be snapshots through their years together and also a way for me to shove every Jayvik meta I have into one manifesto.

Stage 1: let me sell you on the whole nickname thing with Academy Dorks. Pure pre-relationship fluff and dork4dork energy. Nothing bad is ever gonna happen to these cuties.

------------------

It is surprising, how easily things come together.

Surprising in how Viktor has now been around Jayce Talis for over 72 hours (it is currently at 79) and he has, at no point, felt an urge to knock Jayce out with a sharp swing to the back of the head so that Viktor could have a moment to himself. Surprising in the fact that he is not actually surprised by this. Nothing could surprise him now, when the euphoria fills his veins like nothing he's known before.

There is the magic. Of course there's the magic. The blue glow like a lightning flash caught behind his eyes and burned forever into his mind. There could not be anything but the magic now. Yet it was everything else that came with the magic as well. The freshly assigned lab that is, truthfully, hardly more than an old office with the furniture shoved out of it. The chalkboard being pilfered from the library in the middle of the night, because the single pathetic one the lab came with was a joke.

There is Jayce. Jayce, who is the magic, the spark, the surge of life and energy. Jayce laughing in little hitched noises that his stifling only turns into absurd wheezing, because they couldn't fit the stolen chalkboard out of the library at first, not until Viktor made him knock the whole thing over so they could remove the wheels. Which, of course, had to be put back on immediately after they got the thing through the doors.

"We're going to end up exiled anyway after this." Jayce whispered far too loudly, sitting on the wet stone of the Academy courtyard, fully illuminated by a street lamp to screw the wheels back on because Viktor's flashlight flickered dark after five minutes.

"Fine." Viktor hisses back, "at least we will have an actual chalkboard." Which is a nothing statement, but it makes Jayce curl in on himself with another fit of little hiccuping giggles, so that's alright.

"I don't think they'll let us take the board, V."

That causes Viktor to pause for approximately half a second, considering. "Is that a nickname?"

The little hitching laughs stop, which is a shame. Jayce clears his throat and goes back to tightening the wheel in place. "Uh. I guess? Sorry, is that ok?"

"You misunderstand. I've never been given a nickname before." Viktor taps his fingers on his cane, looking up at nothing as he examines how he feels about getting his first nickname.

"Oh yeah?" He can't tell if Jayce is secretly pitying him or not, but it doesn't sound like he is. "What do you think of it?"

Viktor tilts his head one way, and then another, feeling his face pull into a grimace. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt Jayce's feelings, but he does not think that insincerely given adoration of the nickname would be a good early mark for the relationship.

He intends on keeping himself in Jayce's life for however long his own lasts, by any means necessary. It's going to be a learning curve, figuring out how to have someone like him for that long, but he doesn't think lying or even stretching the truth is how he should accomplish this goal.

"Woah," Jayce says, and when Viktor looks down the other man is sitting, ass still fully on the wet paving stones, staring up at Viktor with sincere fascination and the beginnings of a grin. "You really hate that, huh?"

"No." He doesn't. Which he doesn't realize until he says so, but it's true, he doesn't hate it. "I am still deciding, don't rush me."

"Don't tell me you're grading my nicknames, V." Jayce huffs, and he shuffles himself through a puddle to get the last wheel on the last leg of their stolen goods. "I'm gonna have a panic attack over nicknames. And then I'm gonna have nightmares about the fact that I had a panic attack over a nickname, instead of over stealing Academy property. Hey. How come I've done more crimes in three days with you than I ever had in my life?"

"That seems like it is your problem." Viktor points out, leaning with both hands on his cane now, watching some curls of mist under the street lamp as he continues mulling over his first nickname. It's been given to him by Jayce Talis, who gave Viktor magic and who is now soaking his ass on the ground so that Viktor can have a better chalkboard. It seems a small price to pay.

"Yes." He decides, nodding. "It's fine."

"That sounds like one ringing endorsement."

"You wanted my opinion. Honestly? It eh, lacks creativity."

"What did I say about grading my nicknames?"

"Plural? No no, you get one."

"Hardass." Jayce grumbles, pulling first himself and then the chalkboard back up with little effort. Which is impressive, as it is not a small board. "What about me?"

"Hm?" Viktor is already moving, tugging the board around to make sure the wheels are all even.

"Come on, fair's fair. What's my nickname?"

When Viktor looks up - intending to point out that making a nickname for a name which is already a single syllable is counterintuitive - Jayce is at the other end of the board, grinning a blinding and crooked grin. His hair is a mess, with the mist depositing little gleaming drops of diamonds against the black. There's an eagerness, nearly a hunger, in his bright hazel eyes as he waits for Viktor's nickname. All of that, beaming at him from the other side of the board that Jayce agreed to steal at an obscene hour of the night for him. There are dimples.

"Lásko." He says, as naturally as a heartbeat, as easily as blinking. It's hardly a revelation for him. Viktor has already spent 77 of the past 79 hours reconfiguring his ideological stances on the concept of soulmates.

Jayce snorts, his grin falling, but not into a shocked disgust or even displeasure at the foreign sound. Instead, he sets his formidable jawline forward and pouts.

"I want a do over. That sounds so much cooler." He groans.

Ask me what it means.

Scratch that. Do not ask me that. However long one is supposed to wait before saying love, I am sure that I am under that mark.

"No do overs. Even I know that about nicknames."

"You don't make the nickname rules! You never even had one before!"

"No do overs."

"Ok! Fine! Congrats on being stuck with V!"

#arcane #jayvik #academy dorks era jayvik #my fic #jayce you are already so wrapped around this stick's pinky finger #also I know V is a game canon thing but Jayce calls Cait 'sprout' so i decided hes a nickname fiend

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totheblood · 1 year ago

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white horse

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer notices a change in you and helps you in his own spencer way

warnings: mostly fluff, grief mentions.

a/n: wrote this short thing to fix my spencer reid obsession! AI AUDIOS in the fic also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 1k

"my heart always wants to run."

Spencer was unfocused.

The hum of the air conditioner in the precinct wasn’t enough to drown out the thousands of thoughts in his head. What he should have been doing was analyzing the geographical profile of the current unsub, maybe even collecting witness statements or completing paperwork, but no. Spencer Reid was unfocused on the case and completely focused on you.

Ever since Hotch presented the case your entire body language had changed. It was like you had folded in on yourself, deflated in a way that made Spencer’s heart crunch. On the flight to LA, you nervously bit at your nails as the team spoke, bouncing ideas off each other, not contributing to the conversation like you usually did. You took a backseat in this case and for the life of him, Spencer couldn’t figure out why.

The minute you joined the BAU you were as elusive as they came. You barely spoke about yourself, never attended group gatherings, and kept conversations strictly professional. Spencer used to brainstorm reasons as to why you were so reserved, but he stopped once he started thinking of ways to get you to like him.

He would bring you the mini muffins from the cafeteria that were always sold out by noon, but you would always politely decline and claim you had just eaten. He would sit next to you on the jet and make small talk to which you replied with one-word answers. He always made an effort to include you in conversations not pertaining to work but you just would not budge. The only time he got a glimpse into the real you was when he made a stupid off-hand joke about Aristotle and you chuckled from your desk. He did his best to ignore the feeling that swelled in his chest.

Now he was getting a glimpse into your life in a way that he didn’t expect. You were on edge. Something about this case was personal to you. He noticed it in the way you took small gasps every time a new body was found, or how you opted to do paperwork instead of being in the field. As someone who has seen you do a million takedowns with a smile on your face, Spencer knew something was wrong when you opted to stay back. The unsub was kidnapping pairs of sisters, murdering one, and letting the other live. It was gruesome and cruel, and he was accelerating. Spencer should have been doing literally anything to help, but his attention was on you.

“I can feel you staring,” you breathed from your place at the large conference table, not looking up from the paperwork.

“Oh, uh-” Spencer fumbled as he sat up, “I’m not- I wasn’t really staring, I would say I was observing.”

You put your pen down and looked up at him, eyes squinted as you looked at his face, “Why?”

There was an edge to your voice, like you were already pissed and he was just making it worse.

“Well, you usually write faster, you have a notch in between your eyebrows like you’re thinking really hard about something, or trying not to. And you, uh, scratch the back of your ear when you’re nervous,” he blurted out, sitting up straighter, “and uh, I wanted to make sure you were… okay,”

His last sentence made you sit up straighter as your whole face softened. You looked down at the papers in front of you then back up at him, “I didn’t realize anyone noticed,” you whispered voice low.

“Well,” he started, getting up and moving to sit down next to you, “you’re one of us… aaand we’re profilers, we kind of notice these things.”

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head and looked up at him. His hazel eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at you. If you were being completely honest, it was intimidating.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been,” you squint your eyes, thinking of the word to think of, “distant. I’m just not used to all of this, it’s overwhelming.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said almost instantly, voice soft, “This job is a lot, I don’t blame you. But today… this case,” his voice trailed off.

You took a deep sigh, resting your hands in your hands as you shut your eyes for a minute before you spoke, “My sister… she died. I don’t want to talk about it but, this case reminds me of it. Reminds me of her.”

“I understand,” Spencer hummed, in such a soft voice that it almost instantly soothed you.

“God, it happened so long ago I just don’t understand why I can’t get over it,” you shook your head, rubbing at your face before speaking again, “it’s like every time I remember it, I shut down. It’s like I’m broken or something.”

Spencer paused for a moment, looking you over before speaking, “Did you know that grief can actually alter your brain chemistry? Research has shown that the intense emotions associated with grief can increase levels of cortisol which can impact memory and cognitive function. In fact, there's evidence suggesting that the brain of a grieving person might resemble that of someone with a traumatic brain injury.”

You looked over at him, eyes a little wide as if you were taking in everything he just said.

“I don’t know if that helps but-” Spencer started but was cut off by the sound of your voice.

“It helps,” you breathed a laugh, “it really helps, so uh, thanks.”

“You know, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to-” He spoke before tumbling over his words, “I mean we’re all here if you need someone, not just me but all of us.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile which he returned, “Thank you, Spencer,” you looked back at your paper before glancing back at him, “I might take you up on that offer.”

With his cheeks tinged pink, he nodded, picked up his messenger bag and exited the precinct conference room where Derek was stood in the doorway, clapping a hand on his back as he exited, “You’re in deep, pretty boy,” he commented with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Spencer said under his breath, his cheeks now growing a shade or two darker.

You had said maybe the most you ever had to him in your entire four months of working there and Spencer left the room blushing. He was for sure in deep.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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captinamericashusband · 10 months ago

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Juno | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Male!Reader (SMUT😉)

A/N: Wow another Steve Rogers fic. Anyways this one is smut. Also this is my first ever attempt at writing smut so it's going to be really bad. So enjoy!

Title and plot (loosely) based off of Sabrina Carpenter's new song (stream the album btw or else):

Juno

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: I might let you make me Juno 😉

Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex

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“And then he said to me, ‘How about you change your dentures!’” A chorus of laughter erupted from around the table. Among the voices and chuckles was Y/N, sporting a fake laugh to hide the pain he was currently feeling on the inside. He so badly wanted to leave, thinking that laughing at whatever he was presented with would help pass the night.

Y/N was an Avenger. He loved his job – no doubt. He loved being able to help people on a worldwide scale, and the overall idea of doing something that mattered. However, what Y/N didn’t realize was that the fine print of the Avenger’s contract included him forcefully being present at the annual U.S. Defence Symposium Convention, where diplomats and political leaders from around the globe gathered to discuss foreign affairs. While he never had to speak during these conventions, Y/N’s presence was required for Avengers PR reasons. Why it couldn’t be anyone else was a question he’d never find the answer to. Luckily for him, he wasn’t alone this year. Even better for him, he was with his lovely boyfriend.

Y/N glanced towards Steve at the other side of the circular table. Steve was already looking at him, wearing a similar bored expression. The two shared tired smiles. A positive that came with being Captain America’s boyfriend was intimate looks like these, shared across dinner tables, conference meetings, and other situations where they couldn’t be close. Looks and glances that made Y/N feel warm inside. No one else knew, even the team, of their clandestine relationship, afraid of the uproar that would come if it were to become public. The controversy that came with two of the United States’ defensive powerhouses dating – especially considering both were men – was something Y/N chose to think about rarely.

The senator continued his comedically-not-funny joke, and Y/N felt grey hairs growing. He knew he had to leave or he would’ve broken down in tears. As a guest speaker was about to be introduced, Y/N politely excused himself from the table and glanced towards Steve, his eyes already on him. He gave him a wink – a not-so-discrete signal they both came up with before arriving, loosely meaning, ‘I can’t handle this anymore and I need to get the fuck out of here – meet me in the bathroom.’

As he walked through the halls of the large venue, he marvelled at the grandness of the building where the convention was held. While he despised being there, he had to admit the building was architecturally and aesthetically pleasing, being more on the higher end of NYC establishments with its Art Deco-inspired assets. When Y/N made it to the bathroom, he checked beneath the stalls to see if anyone was present before letting out a loud groan. He knew he had to talk to Nick Fury later to discuss his supposedly mandatory attendance at the energy-draining convention. He couldn’t stand another second here. Leaning against the sink, he waited for Steve to arrive.

After about two minutes, the door to the washroom opened, and Y/N was met with Steve's presence. Steve raised his eyebrows, silently asking if anyone else was there, to which Y/N responded by shaking his head. “What did it, huh?” Steve asked, closing the door behind him.

“That geriatric senator, obviously – Senator Shortdick,” Y/N groaned. The senator’s name was actually in fact Dick – something Y/N’s immaturity found astoundingly hilarious. “His very long extended joke about…I don’t even know actually.”

“He was talking about his son, Y/N,” Steve said, walking closer to the other man. “It was a nice story – very wholesome.” When Steve reached Y/N, he wrapped his arms around his waist before giving him a small peck.

Y/N’s eyes met Steve’s, and they both gave each other reassuring smiles. They both desperately wanted to leave, but were aware they legally couldn’t.

“I don’t think I can handle this anymore, Steve,” Y/N’s voice whined, laying his head on Steve’s muscular chest, and caressing his sides. “I need something exciting.” Suddenly, as if he had an epiphany, Y/N conjured a devious idea to pass the time. Looking up at Steve, he gave him a half-lidded look, an action he did in jest whenever he wanted something from him. “We should fuck right now.”

Steve only responded with a bewildered look, slowly shaking his head and reprimanding Y/N’s unsavoury suggestion. “We can’t, Y/N,” he said. “It’s too risky. Not to mention, distasteful – we’re in public.” Steve was the more rational person in their relationship, often taking Y/N’s outrageous ideas to heed.

“Why not, Stevie?” Y/N’s voice feigned softness and seductivity. “Isn’t it exciting,” he started, arms sliding up Steve’s clothed bicep. “The idea of getting caught here.”

“Not really-.” Before Steve could continue, Y/N connected their lips. It started soft – short and sweet – before gradually getting more intense and feverish. Steve pushed the small of Y/N’s back closer, deepening the touch of their lips. Steve wanted Y/N badly, and Y/N was aware of that. He always knew that he had some type of figurative spell over Steve, causing him to be more acquiescent towards him than any other member of the team – even before they started dating. Steve was entirely bewitched by Y/N.

------------------------------------

The two eventually locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls, lips already connected and moving together hungrily. Both prayed no toilet would come beckoning some diplomat’s bladder amidst their carnal moment together. As they continued face-fucking each other, Y/N trailed his hands down towards Steve’s pantsuit. He palmed Steve’s already present bulge, rubbing it with the soles of his hand and causing a quiet whimper to leave Steve’s mouth. At hearing Steve’s sultry noise, Y/N felt his cock growing harder and heavier.

Y/N broke their lips’ ravenous movement and began unbuttoning Steve’s tux. “I saw you practically ogling me in there.” He bit one of Steve’s sensitive spots on his neck, eliciting a low groan from his throat. “It’s like you were begging to fuck me with your fuck-me eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve panted in response.

“Stay oblivious then, Stevie.” Y/N slipped Steve’s suit off, revealing his muscled buff chest. Not even a second later, Y/N’s mouth began trailing down Steve’s torso. He peppered kisses all over Steve’s chest, going further and further down until he was on his knees. Y/N came face-to-face with Steve’s growing bulge. He salivated, thinking about taking Steve’s entire cock in one go – the idea of hearing Steve’s whimpers made his dick even firmer.

Steve’s gaze was locked on Y/N. His eyes were half-closed, face flushed with both lust and pleasure. Y/N then unbuttoned Steve’s pants before taking them off which revealed Steve’s undergarments. Without sparing another moment, Y/N yanked Steve’s boxers off. Steve’s cock, upon being unclothed, sprung upwards and ached in the cold bathroom air. It begged for attention that Y/N’s mouth was more than willing to give. A slight droplet of precum was already at the slit which made Y/N even more aroused. Not wanting Steve to finish quickly (as if that is even a problem with his serum-induced stamina), Y/N started slow. He gave Steve’s shaft one long lick at the base, relishing the semi-salty taste. Y/N continued licking, throwing occasional glances towards Steve and how he was reacting. The quiet whimpering coming out of Steve’s mouth was evident he wanted – needed more. “Just please take it all, Y/N,” he quietly whined.

Y/N chuckled. He decided Steve had been good tonight and, sparing him from further punishment, took his entire cock in his mouth. A loud moan erupted from Steve to which he quickly clamped his hand over his mouth to silence. Y/N had to adjust to Steve’s size for a moment before doing anything further. Despite having done this several times, Y/N always thought Steve’s dick was maybe too big for him. This wasn’t that much of a problem for him as while he did struggle in throating it, it did make his ass feel good. And very sore afterwards. After a brief moment, Y/N began to slowly move his head up and down Steve’s cock. Steve struggled to quiet down his noises of pleasure as much as Y/N struggled trying not to choke. With each movement of Y/N’s head, Steve was hitting the back of his throat which sent a wave of pleasure down his spine. Steve, however, wanted much more.

To Y/N’s shock, Steve bundled his hands in his H/C locks and shoved him further down his throat. Y/N’s eyes went wide, gagging noises coming from his clogged mouth. Before Y/N could steady himself, Steve began ramming his throat at a rapid speed, his attempt to quiet himself vanishing as he prioritized quickly getting off with Y/N’s mouth. As Steve continued at his pace, he let out breathy moans that were amplified and reverbed by the bathroom’s walls. While Steve was in pure bliss at his cock being serviced, Y/N was not able to cope with the sudden change. His hands were placed on both of Steve’s thighs, trying to steady himself. Tears pricked near the corner of his eyes as his entire buccal cavity and throat continued being ransacked by Steve’s length. Each time Steve’s cock hit the rear of his throat, Steve shuddered and Y/N gagged loudly. As Steve began nearing his climax, he began to go even quicker than his initial speed, causing Y/N’s tears to freefall down his cheeks. With one loud grunt and a sloppy thrust, Steve came down Y/N’s throat. As Y/N felt the warm and salty fluid trail down his throat, Steve’s breaths became more shallow.

Steve leaned against the stall’s door, and a slick ‘pop’ sounded as he took his cock out of Y/N’s mouth. He was still recovering from his orgasm as Y/N quickly got up from his knees and roughly pushed his chest. “Dude!’ Y/N half-yelled. “What the fuck was that? You nearly killed me!”

Steve staggered slightly at Y/N’s hit. He looked at Y/N with a confused expression that quickly vanished upon seeing his tear-stained cheeks. An apologetic look promptly dawned. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine it’s just,” Y/N said while wiping his face, “you have to warn me first before you do that.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Steve did look remorseful. His face looked as if he had accidentally kicked a dog. “We should probably stop now.”

Y/N gave looked at him incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” He pointed sternly towards Steve, his voice coming out furious with a tinge of playfulness. “The only apology I’ll accept now is if you fuck me right here.”

“But, Y/N, I don’t have the…” Steve’s voice trailed off.

“The what, Steve?”

“You know,” Steve said, face slightly pink. “The wet thing and the rubber thing?”

An actual genuine look of bewilderment made its way onto Y/N’s face. “You mean condoms and lube?” Steve nodded shyly and Y/N began to laugh. “Steve, you just pounded my face in. Don’t give me any shit about you being too coy to say the words ‘condom’ and ‘lube’.” He then glanced down towards Steve’s penis which was already erect again. “Plus, your thing,” he continued, mocking Steve’s mannerisms, “still looks pretty wet from my spit. And as far as I remember, none of us have any diseases.” Y/N quickly looked towards Steve. “Right?” Steve nodded his head quickly, still too embarrassed to respond. Before Steve could do anything further, Y/N took his pants off alongside his underwear. “You’re already hard again, Steve. What are you gonna do 'bout it?”

Y/N’s teasing tone evoked Steve’s earlier confidence, leading to him hoisting Y/N around his waist, a quick yelp coming out of Y/N at the sudden movement. Before Y/N could say anything, Steve hastily prevented him by connecting their lips. Their tongues quickly tangled together, saliva combining and becoming indistinguishable from one another. “Steve, just put it in already, God.” Y/N’s voice came out breathy and unstable. Steve obeyed quicker than usual, seemingly eager to come a second time that night. Grabbing his cock with one hand and supporting Y/N with the other, he angled it towards Y/N's gaping hole. Without wasting any more time, Steve promptly thrust the entirety of his length inside of Y/N. A filthy ludicrous whine came from Y/N’s throat. His prostate was already being reached by Steve’s tip, causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head. He was euphoric and as Steve started moving, his speed matching that of earlier, Y/N felt like he ascended.

Steve was usually gentle whenever they had sex, but he decided to spare no mercy tonight. His thrusts were aggressive, leaving Y/N unable to handle the surplus of pleasure he was feeling. With each graze felt by his prostate, he was sent further into the heavenly bliss he felt. “H-have you seen that one movie,” Y/N said in between heavy pants. “Juno?” He knew it was a stupid question, both in the situation he asked it in, and how he knew Steve had barely seen anything made in the 21st century.

Steve continued thrusting into Y/N, the sound of their skin slapping reverberating around the room. “No – fuck,” Steve’s voice came out breathless. “What is that?” His face was contorting into different variations of lewd expressions, making Y/N’s hard-on even stiffer. It was rare to see the Captain America in such a vulnerable state, and Y/N savoured the fact he was the only person who was able to see him like this.

The pleasure Y/N felt inside of him was indescribable. Their fucking had never reached this level of catharsis. “Nothing – it doesn’t matter. Just keep going, Steve…please…” Y/N saw the little dribble of precum dripping from his cock. He was close. And Y/N knew Steve was too from how his pounds started becoming sloppier, and how his hands gripped his ass tighter. Their lips found each other again, and their tongues connected. Steve swallowed all of Y/N’s whimpers, biting his lower lip to prevent any would-be passersby from hearing his erotic gasps for air.

“I’m gonna come, Y/N,” Steve breathlessly spoke. His pacing started to decline, and his entire body trembled.

As Steve was about to endure another orgasm, Y/N saw him about to pull out. Suddenly, he protested with a hoarse sigh, “No, Steve, just finish inside me – it’s fine.” Steve nodded his head silently, not needing to be told twice. Their pants continued syncing together as Steve rode out his climax. Another load of his hot white cream exited him and filled Y/N to the brim. Shortly after Steve finished, Y/N felt his climax coming in. Steve continued floppily thrusting to aid in his release, soon releasing in thick ribbons that covered his and Steve’s chests.

------------------------------------

Steve gently collapsed both of their bodies on the ground. The pair were in a state of exhausted pleasure, their breaths still deep and frequent. It stayed this way for a few minutes – Steve and Y/N basking in the decline of their orgasms in a comfortable silence. Y/N glanced down towards his ass, a tad icked out by Steve’s jizz pouring out of him. “It’s kind of gross isn’t it,” he said to Steve.

Steve was broken out of his euphoric trance upon hearing Y/N’s voice. “What is?” He said, still catching his breath.

“Look,” Y/N signalled to his downward area. “It looks really strange.” The pair’s eyes met and they both erupted in boisterous laughter.

As they started quieting down from what they considered the funniest thing of that night, Steve suddenly remembered what Y/N asked earlier. “Hey, what was it with that movie you asked me about earlier.”

“Juno?” Y/N responded.

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N said, getting uncharacteristically shy. “I just thought…it’d be nice if we have kids one day.” Y/N then realized what he said and began doubling down. “I mean, that is if you want any with me at all – children I mean. A family.”

Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled at Y/N, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. Y/N responded by giving him a meek smile. They both were met with another silence, their love-laced gazes filling each other with a comforting warmth.

“How are we gonna get out of here, Steve?” Y/N’s voice came out softly, too absorbed in the moment to genuinely care about where they were.

“Now that is the predicament, isn’t it?” Steve said, reciprocating Y/N’s blissful voice.

Fortunately, it was evident that luck was on their side that night as no one had entered the bathroom at any point in their love-making.

FIN

A/N: My Google searches are legit “Synonyms for ‘cock’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms for ‘moaning’ in fanfiction”, “Synonyms of ‘cum’ in fanfiction”, and “How to write smut properly.” Anyways, hope you enjoyed whatever that mess was!

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aidensolas · 4 months ago

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STORED DATABASE (1) - A Forsaken Fic

Heya so I decided to keep writing as the conclusion I reached was just people being people like to ruin things that other people like due to hate. I want to say I might be distancing myself away from knowing about these types of things and just focus on what makes me happy. Enjoy the chapter!

Okay so you already pinched yourself 3 times and it seems like you aren't waking up so it's probably a lucid dream.

Anyways you might be wondering what's happening? Right John Doe and Elliot sitting neatly on your bed as John Doe looks at Elliot confused and staring at your figure he shrugs and looks around commenting on your room "Nice Room... for a runt." You held out your hand in a pointing motion and pointed it at John Doe which he responded to holding up his hands well... a hand and a spike up in a defeated motion "Can't take a playful 'poke'..." He said in a joking manner "So uhm... Hey? Where are we exactly?" Elliot suddenly piped in as you thought about the situation what's happening right now as you paced back and forth between the door of your room.

Okay so you might be wondering what exactly happened after they appeared in your bedroom? Well, I'm your mind! Here to recount things you never needed to remember again... So as they appeared in your room a series of silly events happened that involved John Doe trying to murder you and Elliot which was scary in itself then suddenly as he tried to pierce your stomach with his giant spike he suddenly got flung into the wall of your bedroom knocking down some shelves and cabinets full of your precious well... Whatever you keep in those as you were more scared about your home you realized the things once destroyed started to rearrange itself in a neat manner not knowing what to do you made up a bluff that no one can do anything in this house without your permission and if you break a rule you immediately get punished via getting ragdolled into walls which to your Suprise both Elliot and John Doe believed so now they're both setting on your bed.

Back to the current time! As you completely ignored Elliot's questioned (Rude.) "So where are you guys from and how did you guys exactly... Arrive here?" You asked not like you didn't know already you just thought that having prior information about them without them knowing who you are is weird so might as well keep the appearance that you don't know them.

"Ask the twerp beside me." John Doe nudged Elliot beside him "I can barely remember anything besides killing them over and over again." To which Elliot replied with a nervous laugh as John Doe nudged him "Well! About that it's uh... Hard to explain if you can give me some tim-" You raised your hand in front of Elliot before he could ramble on "No need. You don't need to explain if you aren't ready yet... Anyways would you kindly lea-" You got interrupted as well. Karma's a bitch ain't it? You heard the door open behind you as you quickly looked to turn around to see someone peeking in, wait is that Noob?... Dear God.

Okay you tap your foot in hurry as you paced around your main living room which was enough to accommodate the whole Forsaken cast including the out of place Mafioso who just randomly decided to show up despite being a variation skin of c00lkidd. Chance piped up seeing you walking around the room in a hurry as a coping mechanism of how your life is ruined now. "Hey... Uh your name whatever mind you settle down?" Okay you gather your thoughts and say down sighing as Builderman started to talk "This might be stressful and surprising to see various people you don't know inside your home and people with alarming looks to top it off of." he said as he discreetly looked at killers who were surprisingly not murdering anyone at the moment not like they can but you're surprised an attempt hasn't been made considering some things. "But we mean no harm and we would like to not bother you but when we tried to leave the front door a random pop-up would appear saying that we don't have access to do so. Would you happen to know anything about it?" Then Shedletsky decided to squeeze in a comment that's stated in a lighthearted joking manner "Who would wanna leave anyway have you seen this house?" Builderman replied by quickly stomping on his foot which made him wince as he grumbled "Okay... Okay... I get it." You squeeze your eyes shut as you cover your face with your hands as you resist the urge to cry into them. "I tried it as well. It said I can't open the door for at least another 7 days. First things first who are you guys." Yeah, you aren't asking them you were demanding an answer.

As they all introduced each other you quickly gave them their own lodgings and places to stay good thing you have a lot... Well, more than enough guest rooms to accommodate them since it was relatively late anyway you were preparing to sleep before you felt a tap behind you which revealed to be Dussekar "In my own lair, where dreams take flight, can I wield the brush to color my night?" What is bro saying? You thought about it for a second then realized he meant if he could decorate his own room to which you replied to "Go ahead it's all yours anyway for the time being." He nodded promptly before slowly floating away into his own room and closing the door. This is going to be a long week.

After waking up and feeling shit like always you decided to do your daily routine and as you leave your room you see Chance on the side of your door as you stumbled upon him he immediately takes your hand into his and drags you somewhere "Hey you never told me you had this." He said with a chuckle "Had what?" He then reaches a door to which he opens which reveals a whole ass casino. Wait... What. The. Hell. "Right and in case you forgot the name's Chance the best gambler you'll ever see." He said with pride as he closed his eyes striked a cool pose and flipped a coin the coin landed it rolling tails did make it a bit silly, but you won't ruin his day so you didn't mention it as he hid the coin, you nervously laughed to see people working inside the casino yet no other gamblers or people are present. "Yeah... I totally had this since the start, but you never asked, nor do we totally know each other... Haha.haha." to which then Chance looks back at you saying " That's fair but... Wanna go round all the people up and have a nice fun day in the casino? Well, it's yours so it wouldn't be a problem to treat us, right?" You never owned a casino, so you have no idea, but you felt like you were about to faint but, you gave Chance a giant totally not fake smile. "Sure, go ahead! Go call them up I'll treat all of you to some fun." Chance wasted no time bolting out the door and probably waking everyone up to drag them into this. You glanced at one of the workers who noticed you and it seemed to be the same people who you would see in a Roblox game but humanized or some sort... The worker stared at you and waved giving a small smile. Yeah.

This is definitely going to be a long week.

Notes:

Guys I'm sick so I couldn't promise the bulk of chapters I've written but most of it is done anyway so expect day by day and a random two-time x reader to pop up one day. Excuse my writing if it's on the wobbly side as I said I feel like absolute bunz anyways hope you enjoy this chapter. I wonder what happens next, I totally can't see into the future or anything, but I think it's going to be a casino chapter...

TAGLIST (raaaah)

@brain4stew @yukinaabutlazy @ilikedrinkingsoda @oniadopts @no-hearts-included @haveneulalie

Random note: Why do I feel like John Doe and Builderman would be great at telling Dad Jokes...

#forsaken x reader #forsaken roblox x reader #roblox forsaken x reader #roblox x reader

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kelpies-inthe-marsh · 2 months ago

Text

"Emergency Contact"

Braxton x Reader

A/N: first I'm pretty sure the gif is by cry-bastion on here (I found it on pinterest but I do still try to credit where I can). This fic is pretty pretty self indulgent. The accountant movies have been comfort films for me- so I'm finally writing about Braxton

Warnings: descriptions of injuries (vague), reader character was in an accident, Braxton being concerned, some fluff, hurt/comfort etc

You'd joked with Braxton about this moment constantly, teased him that he'd be a terrible emergency contact. You'd still made him your emergency contact, on the list of three numbers, above your mom, and your best friend.

You trusted him, of course, that came with the territory of loving him.

You just didn't think you'd need him to show up. That was your first mistake really. You'd put too much trust into not needing Braxton, that the universe had to come and collect.

You didn't quite remember the accident, you were checking your phone, briefly, as you crossed the street. It had been green for pedestrians, so you hadn't really thought much of it- so you hadn't seen the person running the red light, until they clipped you on their way through. You remembered the fear, the sudden pain in your leg, and hitting the ground, after that it was dark.

You were unconscious during the journey to the hospital, and your phone wasn't too banged up, so the EMTs in the ambulance were able to make the calls to your emergency contacts. The first being, of course, Braxton.

He answered on the first ring, he always did for you, “hey sweetheart-”

The EMT interrupted him quickly, letting him know you'd been in an accident, what hospital you were currently staying in, and that he'd have to come in if he wanted more information than that. Your doctor wouldn't be comfortable with anyone giving patient information out over the phone.

“I'll be there, in the morning at the absolute latest-” he swore, hanging up quickly. He had to find a car, to hell with the rest of the job.

You woke up before he got there, you didn't know to be grateful for that. You knew your parents weren't there either, again, very grateful. They were spending a few weeks camping, and there was no cell service. You were still a little out of it, head fuzzy, and eyes squinting. Your right side hurt from about the waist down. You weren't sure why Braxton wasn't there, but you were hopeful that whatever job he was probably on (he'd never give specifics before he left) that he'd stay gone until you were discharged from the hospital.

You weren't so lucky.

Your doctor came in, chart in hand, she was reading through it when she told you, “we managed to get ahold of your emergency contact, he said he should be here at some point this morning.”

Your heart dropped, “which emergency contact? My parents, right?” You almost considered crossing your fingers for any possible luck that might bring.

She looked up from your chart, “no, the first one on your list.. Braxton? He said he was on his way as soon as he was told what happened.”

Great. Wonderful. Lovely. Not that you didn't want to see Braxton, him being there would honestly be a balm for your terribly frayed nerves. The longer you were awake, the more you remembered about the accident, and as much as you tried to tell yourself you were fine- you really could have died the moment that far hit you. Somehow you didn't, somehow.

“Your injuries are mild thankfully, a minor concussion, and fracture to your pelvis. We want to keep you for a few days for observation, to make sure there's no internal bleeding that's being hidden by any bruising,” the doctor told you, making notes in your chart as she spoke.

You nodded, a little too shocked to properly respond. Your head did hurt, and your lower body ached, but you were fully unaware there'd been any actual damage.

While your doctor was updating you about your care plan for the next few days, Braxton was walking up desk. He looked a little worse for wear, dark eye bags, duffle still in hand. He hadn't even gone home before coming up to the hospital. When he came up to the counter, the medical receptionist looked up at him, “can I help you sir?”

He nodded, and told the man your name, and asked what room number you were in. It wasn't as easy to get through as he thought it would be. Before they let him go back to see you, he had to explain exactly who he was to you. Normally he'd respect that, liking the idea that there were extra precautions in place to keep you safe.

Now though? He was annoyed that he had to waste precious time explaining anything to the man at the desk. You needed him damn it.

When he was finally let through, he nearly ran through the halls to your room. Did he get turned around in his well-hidden panic and have to ask which direction he needed to go? Possibly, not that you'd ever hear that piece of information.

Your doctor had just left when Braxton came in, he looked tired, and worried. You could see it in his eyes. He didn't let you get a word out though, because he was dropping his duffle at the foot of your bed, and grabbing one of your hands in his. “I'm alright,” you assured him quietly.

He shook his head, “you've got no idea how worried I was.. when I got that call-” he trailed off-

“Really, I'm okay,” you squeezed his hand gently, “they didn't need to call you, I'm sorry you were so worried.”

He shook his head again, this time more emphatically, “no,” he said firmly, “I want to be the one who gets that call to be there for you. Even if it scares th’ shit out of me, sweetheart, I want to be there.” If you were to look closer at Braxton's face, you would have seen his eyes shining with unshed tears.

He continued after a moment of silence, using that short time to gather himself, “I'm all in, whenever you need me.”

You found yourself holding back tears at his simple, yet heartfelt words, “always Brax, I always need you,” you replied quietly, you still hadn't let go of his hands, and you smiled ever so slightly when you felt him squeeze yours.

It was in that moment that he decided he'd turn his focus towards more legal, and less dangerous business ventures. Not because you'd ever ask him to choose between you and his job, but because you said you needed him. It really was as simple as that.

“You have me,” he almost whispered, as he leaned down to press the gentlest kiss to your forehead. He let it linger for a moment, as he really thought about how lucky he was.

He could have lost you, but he didn't. You were there, and you needed him, and he wouldn't take that for granted again.

#cain writes #jon bernthal #the accountant #the accountant 2 #braxton #braxton the accountant #braxton x reader #super niche fic #x reader #x male reader #x gn reader #hurt/comfort #fanfic

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improbable-outset · 1 year ago

Note

for an angst/whatever else Miguel fic

what about an inexperienced reader who has a shitty bf and he makes a cruel joke at her expense in front of people, including miguel, who's her boss and later or something miguel comments on it to her and it can either lead to smut or fluff, your choice 💓

Hi anon, thanks for the request. I might’ve gone a little carried away with this one heh…

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐞

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Toxic relationship, Manipulative and controlling behaviour, humiliation, alcohol consumption, unresolved pinning 👀, fluff and comfort, intimate tension.

𝐀/𝐍: WE ARE SO BACK. While writing this, I’ve discovered that writing toxic characters is actually kinda fun and amusing, especially with dialogues

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: During a company dinner party, you find yourself humiliated by your current boyfriend. Seeking some escape, you confide with your boss, Miguel, whose support reveals some hidden emotions you’ve buried.

Your reflection stared back at you blankly as you fixed the strap of your dress for the umpteenth time. Despite the dress fitting you perfectly, you couldn’t stop yourself from anxiously adjusting it— even if there was nothing to fix.

Social events were always outside of your forte but you wanted to put yourself out there, especially given the fact that it was an event from your work.

You wanted to look your best for tonight and make yourself as presentable as you could, leaving a lasting impression outside of the work environment.

You quickly patted the beads of sweat that were forming from your forehead before touching up on your makeup.

“Are you ready?” A male voice called out from outside the room. Your chest clenched slightly, a sudden sense of urgency washing over you.

“Almost,” there wasn’t much for you to do now but you didn't want to leave the house just yet.

Not a moment passed before Adam stepped in the room. He had a tone build and wore a dress shirt with contrasting dark pants for the occasion. His hair was combed back and he was growing out a stubble that gave a charming feature to his look.

Adam’s held his gaze on your form, eyeing you and your outfit. You felt a tinge of self consciousness until you saw a small amused smile on his face.

“What?” You asked teasingly.

“Nothing,” he stated, his line of sight still sweeping over you. “You look phenomenal, as usual.”

The compliment made your chest warm. You met Adam through a mutual friend at work. Before you got together, you were typically more reserved and kept conversations with everyone to a minimum.

But Adam would always try to spark a conversation with you, even when you gave him one worded answer. He even tried to invite you to socials outside of work with your other co-workers in an attempt to get you to open up.

Though you knew it was only an excuse for him to get to know you and to get your attention, even if it was just disguised as a regular polite conversation. Eventually you caved in to him and a few friendly conversations later, he asked you out.

You took another look in the mirror. There was something missing in the look. You reached over to your vanity drawer and pulled out one of your favourite lipstick shades before putting it on.

Adam leaned over to see your reflection in the mirror and frowned. “Oh…are you wearing that shade of lipstick again?”

You turned to look at him. “Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

“It doesn’t suit you,” he said simply, his tone casual but the words stinging like a slap. It was one of your favourite lipsticks, a shade you thought complimented you well. No one had ever said otherwise.

“Really? Everyone has said that it matches with my complexion,” you arched your brow in confusion to disguise how bothered you were.

“Well, I’m telling you that it doesn’t look good on you,” he further added. All the reassurances you felt from the compliment you received was replaced with a dull ache.

“I wore it on our first date and you said that you loved it.”

You remembered you were feeling nervous and thought you didn’t look good enough. But Adam reassured you that you look beautiful and that was enough to lift your mood throughout the entire date.

But after hearing his comment just now, you didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“I said I liked the outfit, not the lipstick specifically,” he corrected.

“Should I take it off then?” Reluctantly, you picked up a tissue from the box with trembling hands, ready to wipe it off your lips.

Adam didn’t reply, instead looking at his watch impatiently.

“Look, we need to leave now if we want to avoid the traffic. Meet me in the car in five minutes,” he instructed, completely dismissing your question before leaving the room abruptly, now driven by urgency.

Just to save yourself from hearing him point it out again, you wiped off the lipstick from your lips. However, before you left the room, you packed the lipstick in your purse. A small act of defiance.

As you made your way to the car, you saw Adam fumbling with the glove compartment from the passenger side. Whatever he was looking for, he managed to find it and keep it hidden from your view before you could open the passenger side door.

You stepped in and buckled yourself up before you closed the door behind you. Unintentionally, you closed it harder than you intended, causing Adam to jolt in response.

“Hey, hey easy with the door babe-” he reprimanded, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“What?”

“Are you trying to break the car?” He tried to lighten the mood with a small smirk but failed— his feeble lightheartedness faded like over washed denim.

“I didn’t slam it that hard.” You quipped back.

Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could tell that he didn’t want to dampen the mood and argue about this, especially now.

Defuse the spark before it gets ignited.

This wasn’t the first time you fought about something trivial. He left the argument hanging and pulled out a small box.

So this was what he was getting from the glove compartment…

“Here, I got this for you,” His voice switched like a flipping coin, as he opened the box to reveal a necklace. Your eyes widen, taking in the sight of the jewellery that glistened under the low lighting in the car.

The necklace was a silver chain with a pendant that matched with the dress you were wearing. He took the necklace out of the cushion packaging and gestured for you to come closer.

“Come here. Let me help you put it on,” he said. You leaned forward so he could reach the back of your neck.

His fingers grazed on your skin as he fastened the clasp, an act that felt almost too intimate given the recent tension. The coolness of the metal brushed against your neck.

“It’s beautiful. But what’s the occasion?” You asked, one of your hands reaching to touch the pendant. It sat on your neckline perfectly.

“Do I need a motive to give you a gift? I thought these things would be more spontaneous if they came from the heart,” he said as he put on the car's ignition. The engine hummed to life and Adam drove off the driveway with one hand on the wheel.

The car was bathed in his cologne smell. It wasn’t his usual signature scent that he used everyday. This has a spicy undertone to match the occasion, though you preferred his usual scent to this. The aroma seemed to cling into the air and linger long after he sprayed it. You didn’t want to admit that it was too strong for your liking.

You cruised through the streets smoothly and watched as you passed each building and property. Adam glanced over at you from the corner of his eyes, lingering for a moment before he spoke.“You know, I hope you can handle yourself tonight.”

His eyes went back on the road, leaving you perplexed from his comment. Did he think you needed babysitting?

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping to yourself a lot lately.” He said, teetering with the edge of criticism before he continued. “Don’t you think you should be a bit more sociable at these events? It’s not a good look to be the quiet one in the corner,”

You frowned at that. You knew that navigating through small talks wasn’t your strongest suit but you didn’t need him to tell you how to act. It felt patronising.

“Are you seriously concerned about that? I always preferred to let my work speak for itself.”

“But this isn’t another day in the office, this is a dinner party,”

“I think I’ll be fine,”

“We’ll see,” There was an edge to his response that made your gut twist.

The car fell quiet between the two of you, with the only sound being the low hum of the engine and the occasional honks from passing cars.

Adam broke the silence again, desperate to kill the awkward tension that he had caused. “So, are you looking forward to the event at least?”

“Yeah, it should be interesting. I don’t think they’ve done anything like this before,”

“You’re right,” he said “It might be the new HR coordinator they hired. Seems like they’re trying to make a good first impression.”

Your destination was coming into view now. The venue where the event was taking place was not too far from the main facility building, making it convenient for the employees that were attending.

It was the company’s 25th anniversary so there were a lot of guests attending, which also meant the car park outside the venue was packed. Adam had to drive around the block— you didn’t miss the annoyed scowl on his face— before he found a decent spot to park.

After killing the engine you both stepped out of the car and made your way to the gate. The entrance was dotted with recessed floor lights, highlighting the pathway along with flowers that adorned the grass area.

You recognised a few of your colleagues from your department. It was refreshing seeing them outside of their work attire and in more festive wear.

Stepping inside, you were first introduced to the complimentary drinks before the main hall that was beautifully decorated. The sound of heels clicking and glass clinking bounced off the walls. The company really went far out to organise this, and you had to admit, you were impressed.

The tension from the car ride still lingered in your mind, but you were determined to make the best of the event, despite the rough start. The buzz in the room helped you forget about your unease.

As you padded further into the room, you spotted a few familiar faces from your department. Jess, one of your closest coworkers and best mentor you’ve had, caught your eye and approached you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, glad you two could make it,” she greeted you.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Adam replied.

Jess leaned in for a hug, and you returned with air kisses on each cheek. She stepped back to admire your outfit. “You look incredible. That dress looks so good on you, girl.”

A sense of gratitude washed over you at that. “Thanks, Jess.”

“We’ve saved you a space on our table at the back,” she said before you all made a beeline through the throng of people.

As you made your way to your seats, you caught sight of Miguel, your boss, from the corner of your eye. You turned your attention over to him momentarily, while still following Adam and Jess towards the back.

His height and physique naturally drew attention. Or maybe it was the way he had presented himself tonight. You didn’t know what it was that made him seem more alluring.

His outfit wasn’t vastly different from what you would normally see at work. He wore a well-fitted blazer that accentuated his form.

It wasn’t tight enough to show off his bulging muscles overtly, but it wasn’t loose either. A balance of both, maintaining a modest look that still seemed to draw wondering eyes.

Adam pulled out a chair for you, an unexpected show of chivalry, before taking his own seat. You couldn’t help but pick up on his charms and how his mannerism was a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor back in the car.

You and Jess caught up and chatted for a while. You twisted your body so you could fully face her but as you did, your elbow accidentally knocked over a glass of water. If it weren’t for Adam’s quick reflexes and catching it before it tipped over, the water would’ve spilled all over you.

“Careful babe, that would’ve been a disaster,” Adam said with a hint of concern.

You still felt your nerves spiked from the small shock but it was quickly relieved when Adam placed the glass safely away from the edge. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see that glass there,”

He peered at you with an unreadable expression. You had an uncomfortable feeling that he was going to say something condescending but you couldn’t tell.

A sly smile played on his lips. “It’s alright, babe. Hey, do you remember when you spilled coffee all over the table during your interview?”

You felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. That was a moment you would rather forget, especially in front of the people you work with every day.

You noticed a few of your colleagues at the dinner table glancing over at you. Their eyes felt like lasers, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at them.

“Did she really do that?” You heard one of them asked, you didn’t want to find out who.

You felt a hint of irritation that they didn’t address the question directly at you. It was as if you were invisible, a subject of gossip.

Adam let out a chuckle before he said, “Yeah, I’m surprised she even got the job after that. If it were me, I would’ve been too embarrassed to show my face again,”

You could feel multiple eyes on you as Adam recounted the story. This wasn’t something that you would like to share with anyone else, so you didn’t understand why Adam was telling everyone as if he were sharing an amusing anecdote. It felt like betrayal.

It had taken you a while for you to open up to Adam enough for you to share some embarrassing stories like that. Knowing that he was going to share them like an open book so casually felt like an icy grip around your throat.

Despite your silence and reluctance to look at everyone, Adam seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Either he was ignoring you, or was blinded by his bravado to even notice. Jess managed to see your change in demeanor and how quiet you were all of a sudden.

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” she suggested, placing a hand on your shoulder as a silent comfort. Everyone seemed to agree and the conversation steered away from the topic of you.

As the evening progressed, you managed to emerge out of your shell again from your previous embarrassment. You engaged in light conversations with your colleagues, though you found yourself listening more than talking.

Throughout the interactions, you didn’t notice a familiar pair of eyes that was observing you from afar and picking up on all of your body language silently.

The food served was exquisite and left everyone more than satisfied. Between courses, the CEO took the stage to give a speech, thanking everyone for their hard work and dedication throughout the years.

A loud round of applause erupted in the room, accompanied by smiles from everyone. You could feel the sense of unity and camaraderie in the room.

Dinner was followed by an open bar, which meant more mingling. There were more guests now after dinner than there were when you arrived, so the room felt more confined and bustling.

The mixture of alcohol and perfume smelled like an intoxicating fume. Adam effortlessly moved around from one group of people to another, his presence was booming with flamboyance wherever he went.

He was able to attract people’s interest with his bold body language and confident speech.

You, on the other hand, focused on the small group you were sitting with. You decided to stay at the table, enjoying the conversation and occasionally chiming in with your input.

As you were lost in the office gossip that everyone was exchanging, Adam approached your table with a drink in hand. He leaned in to kiss your cheek before he took a seat next to you.

You didn’t miss the looks that some of your female colleagues flashed at you both. You couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, but it definitely sent a prickly sensation through you. How charming…

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, his tone casual and calmer now.

“Yeah, it’s nice catching up with everyone,” you shifted wearily in your seat.

Adam’s gaze locked onto you as you took another sip from your drink. His stare felt like poking needles and you could tell that he was going to say something.

“You might want to be careful there, babe. Remember the incident last time…”

“Adam please,”

“…you threw up on the sidewalk? You’re lucky no one else was around to see you,”

Your grip around the glass tightened and you wanted to plummet through the floor. You started to wonder if his bold personality and ability to entertain people in a conversation came at the expense of embarrassing others for some laughs.

Being the ass of the joke.

Did he feed off of the attention? Was that why he kept doing this? You noticed no one was laughing. Some gave you sympathetic looks, while others felt awkward.

Adam took this opportunity to add on to the story, his voice resounding with pride. “And I had to carry her home. I felt like a hero that day,”

You forced a smile to try and disguise your discomfort that flickered in your eyes. At this point you didn’t know how to respond or act. But the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, especially over a comment.

You waited until the subject of the conversation changed again so you didn’t look suspicious before you rose from your seat.

“I’ll be back,” you said as you took a few steps away, excusing yourself from the group. “Just need to freshen up,”

You left the bar and made your way to the end of the room. There was the dreadful feeling that everyone in the room was staring at you as you swiftly manoeuvred past them. The desire to escape the room intensified with each step.

Finally, you reached the door to the patio and stepped outside. Thankfully, there were only a few people scattered around, making it easier to uncoil the tension that built up inside you.

You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the fresh air — a relief from the stuffiness inside. Even with the different environment and open space, you still felt the modification catching up to you.

“Is he always like that?” A sudden, familiar rich voice pulled you out of your misery.

You turned to see Miguel standing a few steps behind you. “What?”

He looked striking now that you were up close to him, with the soft glow of the patio light highlighting his features.

His expression was serious when he said “Your boyfriend, Adam. Does he always treat you like that?”

You blinked, swallowing thickly before you spoke. “Oh…yeah. He just has a habit of making jokes like that. It’s just his humor,”

“Interesting sense of humour he has, making you the punchline every time,” he paused, his gaze drifting towards the clear night sky before returning to you. “I find it amusing that you’ve gotten used to being treated like that,”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend…I shouldn’t be—”

“You know, being someone’s boyfriend doesn’t give him the excuse to humiliate you. Why do you keep defending him like this?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know why you kept making excuses for him. Maybe it was easier to downplay the situation than confront reality. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that wasn’t that serious in the first place— or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“He’s not always like this. He’s supportive in other ways. But he does get carried away sometimes,”

“Supportive? Do you mean when he points out your mistakes in front of everyone?” He arched his brow, obviously skeptical.

His words shook you but you had to admit, you didn’t believe your own words, especially after tonight.

“I don’t want to seem too sensitive. I’ve been with him for so long. It’s hard to think about leaving him…”

“Don’t let history keep you in place. You shouldn’t lower your standards just because he’s your boyfriend,”

There was a pause that hung between the two of you. The chilling air was nipping at your bare arms now but you didn’t want to step back inside.

The muffled chaos that you could still hear was enough to make your brain melt. You turned to look at the door that led back inside the bar, a sickening feeling churned inside your stomach.

“I don’t want to go back in there yet,” you admitted.

“Then don’t.” He followed your line of sight before he looked back at you. “We can stay out here for as long as you need to,”

You didn’t speak again after that. Your mind seemed to drift to the facility building that wasn’t far from here. The thought of a quiet secluded space was becoming increasingly appealing now.

You noticed the flicker of curiosity that crossed Miguel’s face as you looked far ahead before realisation gradually dawned on him. He seemed to pick up on your gaze and spoke your mind for you.

“You know, my office isn’t far from here,” he commented, voice boarding a suggestive tone.

“Yeah…I know,”

“Why don’t we head there instead? We can stay there as long as you want without being interrupted,”

“I don’t know…” You knew you didn’t want to be here anymore, but you couldn’t just leave, especially unannounced.

“There’s no one there at this time, and it’s quieter than this place,”

The offer was tempting, but what would Adam say? “I can’t leave Adam here,”

“You still think you need to be with him?” He let out a dry chuckle, stepping closer towards you. “Let him fend for himself for a while. I could tell you weren’t having a good time in there,”

You thought about it for a moment. What was the harm in stepping out for a little while? Adam couldn’t say anything if he didn’t know, right? You did owe it to yourself after everything that had happened, after all.

“Alright,” you agreed. Before you knew it, you were walking towards the car park and stepped into Miguel’s car and on your way. It didn’t take long until you arrived outside the familiar surroundings of the establishment.

The slick glass exterior of the building stood out in the night. During the day, it would be bustling with people coming in and out through the revolving doors.

Now, it was quiet and not a sound could be heard. But even if the building wasn’t running its usual course, there were still some occupants inside with a few of the lights on.

As you made your way inside to Miguel’s office, there was a comfortable silence. Miguel’s presence felt like a calming anchor in the sea of your anxiety.

Once you made it outside his office, Miguel held the door for you to step in. “After you,”

Miguel flickered the lights on before closing the door with a click, sealing off the blaring noise of the outside world. “It’s quieter here. You can take a breath,”

His office gave a different aura at night compared to what you were used to in the day time. The windows that provided a stunning view of Nueva York twinkled with the city lights. You couldn’t help but stare out in awe.

You turned back to look at him and he handed you a water bottle. “Thank you, Miguel,”

The condensation of the water bottle felt cool against the pad of your fingers.

By now the alcohol was settling in your bloodstream, creating a gentle warmth that radiated in your chest. You felt like you were floating as you walked over to take a seat on one of the plush chairs.

You were starting to notice that the alcohol made you forget about Adam and his concerns about your whereabouts and what he might think or say.

You cracked open the bottle and took a small sip, the cold water tickling your throat.

“So, how have you been handling things lately?” Miguel asked, taking a seat on his usual office chair.

You were grateful the topic wasn’t centered around Adam anymore. You didn’t want to linger on the sting of his words and actions from earlier.

“Well, I’ve been working on that new project proposal so that has been consuming most of my time,”

“I’ve noticed your dedication and your work on the proposal has been impressive so far,” Miguel’s voice carried a note of genuine admiration.

“Thank you…it means a lot hearing that from you,” you replied. You felt a sudden tingling sensation coarse through you and you knew it had nothing to do with being under the influence.

It was a mystery to you but Miguel’s compliments seemed to resonate with you, making your heart quicken slightly. You didn’t feel this type of effect with Adam, not even at the start of your relationship.

Miguel gave a small nod, his eyes studying your keen interest. “I’ve noticed you prefer working alone rather than in a team. You seem more comfortable that way,”

You were taken back slightly by the subject change. Where was he going with this?

“I guess I do. Sometimes it’s easier to focus that way,”

“It’s important to have people who support you. Do you have someone like that?”

Despite trying your best not to think about it, the question pulled your mind back to Adam. After all, he was supposed to be your support system, the first person you go to. “I thought I did but I’m not so sure now,”

You didn’t know what you were expecting after tonight. Miguel seemed to pick up on who exactly you were thinking about.

“How do you really feel about you and Adam?” He asked.

You recalled the conversation before you left the house for the party, when you were still getting ready. You still remembered putting on the lipstick and how you thought you looked good before Adam’s remark.

That wasn’t the first time he had put you down like that when your confidence was at your high. Did he feel threatened by your self-assurance?

“Well, he’s always been charming but recently he’s been more…critical, especially in front of others. I don’t know where this change of character came from.”

As you spoke, you felt yourself unraveling all of your true inner thoughts about Adam now— one’s that you tried so hard to push away just to salvage your relationship.

Perhaps some liquid encouragement and having the right person to talk to was needed for you to loosen your tongue and finally admit all of this.

“Sometimes, people reveal their true colours under pressure,”

You pondered that. Maybe Adam was trying to fit in and had some unresolved issues. Whatever it was, that didn’t justify his actions and the way he treated you.

You bit your lip, feeling a surge of conflicted emotions. “It has been a lot to handle tonight. I never expected him to be so cruel. Part of me wants to stay and fix things, but at the same time….I want something more,”

You didn’t know why it took you this long to finally confess it but now that you did, the air left lighter.

“You deserve something more.” Miguel said softly. His words, though simple, charged with meaning and something more. Affection?

You were so lost in a trance when opening up your emotions, you haven’t realised the close proximity between the two of you. Close enough to capture the faint smell of his sweet musk.

It made you wonder if he was talking about something beyond your professional ambitions. Miguel leaned closer— either he was studying your expressions or memorising your features.

However the moment was cut short when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse, shattering the fragility in the room and yanking you back to reality. Startled by the sudden noise, you fumbled in your purse to retrieve your phone.

You felt bile creeping up your throat when you saw Adam’s name on the notification. The text was short but jarring.

‘Where are you? We need to talk’

Shit…

Adam needs to get decked ‼️

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @cl3stevu @tarjapearce (GIRL I GOT INSPIRED BY YOUR TENTATEUR FIC OMLL) @lazyjellyfish300 @kavimoo @laysmt

@mybvalentine @boringpersonality @mun-2996 @leshasnolife @slut4oscarissac23

I was originally going to add smut to this but it didn’t feel right. Especially the position that reader is in here. If this does end well, I MIGHT do a part 2 where she finally ends things with Adam and smut

Ayrus xoxo

#★— ayrus writes #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #spiderman miguel #miguel spiderverse

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usoinked · 6 months ago

Note

Hii! I love your last jey fic with him being possessive! Could you pls do one where he & the reader get into a fight over her being insecure with his story line with Rhea so he keeps her in their hotel for a whole weekend to show her who he truly wants. Maybe some toxic comments like "you think she gets this dick ma? Nah only you"

Love your writing!! Hope this makes sense haha <3

Omggg thank you so much and ofc!! Y’all know I love writing about Jey 🫶🏽🌚

CW: Toxicity, Arguing, Begging, Praising 18+ MDNI, SMUT, cursing, use of n word, unprotected p in v, creampie

Word Count: 5.4k+

You and Jey Uso were in a 2 year relationship, going on 3 years and for the most part everything was fine….was. There were always the usual bumps—scheduling conflicts, long road trips, and the occasional argument—but you had always managed to work through them. The love between you both was solid, built on mutual respect and understanding. That was, until the recent storyline with Rhea Ripley started to change everything.

At first, you could brush it off. You knew that wrestling was just that—wrestling. A scripted, fictionalized world where interactions were meant to stir emotions and get fans invested in the show. You were okay with that. You understood the boundaries and had even joked about how you’d have to share Jey with his fans and his colleagues. But something felt different this time. Rhea wasn’t just a colleague—there was something in the way she interacted with Jey that rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn’t just friendly banter; it was flirtation, and you couldn’t ignore it.

It started small—a teasing smile, a lighthearted comment during interviews, or the occasional touch on his arm after a segment. You told yourself it was just for the cameras. But the more you watched, the more it became clear that there was more to it than that. Every time Jey was near Rhea, he would act differently—more animated, more playful, more engaged. The two of them seemed to have a connection that went beyond the usual working relationship, and it left you feeling…uneasy.

Weeks passed, and the playful flirtation continued. Rhea would smile at him in a way that made you feel like you weren’t even in the room. The way her eyes lingered on him, the way her hand would rest on his shoulder a little too long, the way she laughed at his jokes—it wasn’t normal. It felt personal, and you started to feel like you were on the outside looking in. The jealousy was subtle at first, but as time went on, it began to eat at you more and more. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between them, something you weren’t being told.

You were currently at the apartment you both shared when you saw a segment on your screen involving Jey and Rhea Ripley…again….she was cool at first until Jey and her started flirting back and forth. You knew that this was his job, but that still didn’t make you any less jealous…insecure even. The way she smiled at him when he made the motion to call him, the way she looked him up and down while smiling at him because of his appearance alone, and especially them being that close….it was enough to make you want to turn your tv off. You wanted to watch your man wrestle and look good but not while he was flirting with another female. Fuck no. Not only was it pissing you off, but Jey wasn’t answering his phone after the show ended. Granted you did give him a 30 minute grace period in case he had any dark matches or needed to pack up anything extra…but then it became 45….then an hour…then two hours. You might’ve been born at night but not last night.

Jey had always made an effort to check in after the show, even if it was late. He’d send you a text, make sure you were okay, let you know that he was thinking of you. But recently, that was happening less and less. He’d be busy after the shows—either with the crew or on his phone—and by the time you tried to reach him, his phone was either off or set to “Do Not Disturb.” You tried not to overthink it, but the frustration was building. And the anger was showing.

You sent him a long grueling text message full of swearing making sure he knew how pissed off you were. As much as you were pissed, you were also hurt. Ever since he’d started that storyline with Rhea, it began to seem like the same game over and over again. They would both flirt with each other on camera and then Jey’s plans of calling you after the show seemed to never have existed to begin with. Your face got hotter and hotter every time you thought about it and soon enough, came the tears. Your eyes began to water and slightly sting as the tears fell down your face. You made your way to the bathroom, the cool tiles under your feet offering little comfort as you moved. You grabbed your blue washcloth and ran warm water over it, squeezing out the excess before pressing it gently to your face. The warmth helped to soothe the sting in your eyes, but it didn’t take away the emotions swirling inside of you. You needed to feel something else, anything else. “Stupid ass nigga bruh” you sighed out after taking the rag off your face gently and putting your pink shower cap on, stuffing your braids underneath it.

Turning the water on for the shower, you let the steam fill the room. The sound of the water hitting the tiles was oddly calming, a gentle rhythm that drowned out everything else. You undressed slowly, as if peeling away the layers of frustration and hurt with each item of clothing that hit the floor. Stepping into the shower, the hot water cascaded down over your body, washing away the lingering tension in your muscles but not the ache in your heart.

As you stood there under the spray, you let the water pour over your face, the heat sinking into your skin. It felt like the shower was a way to cleanse not just your body but your mind. The emotions of the night—the jealousy, the anger, the hurt—flooded out of you, but they didn’t leave. They just sat there, heavy, under the surface, simmering quietly. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts of Jey and Rhea out of your head, even for just a moment.

The sound of the water became a small comfort, but it couldn’t block the pain that lingered behind it. Your mind kept drifting back to him, to the moments when you’d felt ignored, pushed aside. Why didn’t he understand? Why didn’t he see how this was affecting you? You didn’t want to keep playing this game, but it felt like he wasn’t even trying to meet you halfway.

You finished your shower with a deep sigh, letting the water wash the worst of your frustration away. But the truth still stung—no matter how many times you scrubbed away the tears or the pain, it was still there. And that feeling, the one that came when you felt like you were losing something you cared about, lingered as you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel. It wasn’t just about Rhea or the flirtations—it was about the space that had been growing between you and Jey for what seemed like weeks now.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

The next morning hit you like a brick. You woke up to an empty bed and as you ran your hands onto the smooth cotton sheets, they found an empty space next to you. Sometimes you’d wake up and Jey would be there because he’d arrive early and surprise you but not this time. In times like this, you gave yourself therapy which was doing an entire skin care routine. You needed your mind off Jey especially since your phone notifications were just as empty as the space next to you.

As you got out of bed, the soft stretch of your limbs was accompanied by the satisfying sound of your muscles cracking, easing the tension from the long night. You rubbed your eyes, still groggy, and slowly made your way to the bathroom. With a quiet click, you flipped the light switch on, filling the room with a warm, comforting glow. You grabbed your blue washcloth, running warm water over it before wringing out the excess and gently pressing it to your face. The warmth felt soothing against your skin, helping to wake you up as you sighed deeply, mentally preparing for the day ahead.

You started your morning skincare routine, reaching for your cleanser first. The gentle formula lathered as you massaged it into your skin, focusing on any areas where you felt the remnants of makeup or the wear of sleep still lingering. After rinsing it off, you followed up with a toner, its refreshing scent and cooling effect instantly tightening your pores and balancing your skin’s pH. You swiped it across your face with a cotton pad, feeling the freshness settle in.

Next, you reached for your serum. A few drops went onto your fingertips, and you pressed it into your skin, allowing it to absorb deeply. The light texture and the nourishing ingredients felt like a treat, giving your skin that healthy, radiant glow you always craved. You followed up with a delicate application of eye cream, tapping it gently around the sensitive skin beneath your eyes, trying to reduce the slight puffiness and dark circles from the late-night argument.

After a few moments, you smoothed on your moisturizer, letting the rich cream hydrate your skin and lock in the previous layers. It felt thick enough to give your face a protective barrier but light enough to absorb quickly, leaving your skin plump and soft. Then you finished with a few drops of face oil, massaging it into your skin to lock in moisture and give you that dewy, healthy glow that lasted throughout the day. Finally, you topped it off with broad-spectrum SPF 30 sunscreen, making sure to cover every inch of exposed skin, knowing how important it was to protect yourself from the sun’s harsh rays.

Before you finished up, you reached for your toothbrush. You carefully brushed your teeth, the minty freshness of the paste helping to awaken you even more as you scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. After rinsing, you took a moment to check your reflection, satisfied with the glowing, refreshed version of yourself staring back at you.

Around 2:30 in the afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, finishing up a fresh Caesar salad you had thrown together. The quiet hum of the apartment was interrupted by the sound of the door swinging open, followed by Jey’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him; his presence was felt before he even reached the doorway. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his furrowed brows and tense posture told you everything you needed to know—he was upset.

“What the hell is yo problem Y/N? You texting my phone and shit buggin’ out!

“Whatchu mean buggin’ out? You literally on camera flirting with another woman!”

“That’s my job! You knew that when we got together!”

“I ain’t know another bitch was gonna be all over you and then your ass wasn’t gonna be answering the phone! Joshua yo notifications were silent, you didn’t call me, and yo shit was on do not disturb bruh! Y’all have been flirting on the show for weeks! What? You had her in your hotel room too huh?!”

“It my fuckin’ job Y/N! Me and Rhea are friends outside of the ring and in the ring, but this is just a storyline! The most we’ve done is hug on camera! As far as me not answering my phone, my ass was tired! Tired as fuck and you on my ass for that cuz you think somethin’ going on! Hotel?! You think she was at my hotel f’real?! Ight, I tell you what. Come wit me on the road and see who I got in the hotel room.” He said stepping towards you. “Cause you ain’t gon find shit!”

“I don’t know she might be! Y’all might as well be fucking each other with the way y’all look at each other! Everybody on the net see that shit! You got a whole girlfriend at home Joshua!” You said taking a step towards him where the tension between you both grew even worse.

“That’s yo problem! Yo ass stay on the net Y/N, that don’t got nothin’ to do with me! With us!”

“You want me to come with you on the road? Bet!” You said before dissolving the tension completely due to storming to your shared bedroom and grabbing a few clothes from your closet starting to sort them on your bed. “You not finna have me looking fucking crazy nigga” you mumbled before grabbing your pink suitcase and beginning to throw your clothes inside of it. You were fuming, the argument didn’t make it any better and Jey not even attempting to understand where you were coming from made you even more pissed than you already were.

The drive to Smackdown was a long and quiet one. The silence between you and Jey stretched on, thick and heavy, like an unspoken wall you both couldn’t seem to break. Seven hours on the road with the person who had left you feeling so alone, was torture in its own right. The miles seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing minute feeling like a reminder of everything that had gone unsaid between you two. The hum of the tires on the highway was the only sound, broken only by the occasional change of gears and the low growl of Jey’s engine. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white, and his jaw remained clenched, as if holding in a thousand words that neither of you had the energy to speak.

Every time you looked over at him, there was that flash of gold from his fang teeth when he briefly parted his lips. His dark eyes remained locked on the road ahead, never meeting yours, and you wondered if he even realized how much it hurt that he hadn’t tried to reach out in any meaningful way. There was something about the way he held himself—so guarded, so distant—that only made the frustration and anger you’d been feeling more tangible.

The hours passed with nothing but the occasional hum of the radio and the drone of the road. The tension between you two seemed to increase with every mile, a pressure that built up with every unsaid word. Even though you were sitting next to each other, it felt as though you were on entirely different planets. You tried to push the swirling thoughts in your head away, but they kept coming back—thoughts of Rhea, of Jey’s evasiveness, of your own growing doubts. You couldn’t ignore it any longer.

When the GPS signaled that you were nearing your destination, Jey took the exit for the Marriott. The hotel looked standard—modern, with sleek lines and a minimalist design that spoke of business rather than comfort. The large glass windows caught the last few rays of sunlight, making the building look polished and professional. As Jey parked the car and cut the engine, you both got out in silence. The stillness in the air was deafening as you walked towards the entrance. Neither of you made eye contact, and the shared understanding that this trip—like everything else between you two at the moment—was shrouded in unresolved tension, hung in the air like a thick fog. As Jey got his bangs and your suitcase out of the car and handed the key off to valet, you took some time to examine the lobby. Securing your Pink Christian Dior bag on your shoulder, you made your way inside.

The lobby was bright and clean, with polished floors and neutral-colored decor that didn’t seem to offer much warmth. The hum of the air conditioning and soft murmur of other guests checking in was the only sound in the space. The reception desk was manned by a young woman with a friendly smile, her eyes lighting up when she saw Jey. Despite the tension you felt, a knot twisted in your stomach at the way she greeted him, too eager, too familiar. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than just politeness.

Jey didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. His demeanor was casual as he approached the counter, flashing the woman a quick smile before grabbing the room key. You stood off to the side, feeling the bitterness rising again. You knew it was irrational—he was friendly with people, that was just part of his job. But something about the way the woman looked at him felt too personal, too much like an insider joke, something you weren’t part of.

You followed him through the lobby, your steps slow as you tried to ignore the discomfort building inside you. The elevator ride was equally silent, the small space between you and Jey seemingly amplifying the emotional distance. He didn’t look at you once as he pressed the button for the floor, the ding of the elevator breaking the quiet as it moved upward.

When the doors opened, you both stepped out into the hallway, and Jey led the way to your room. The keycard swiped easily into the door, and it clicked open. You entered the room, and the soft, neutral tones of the decor did little to soothe your frazzled nerves. The king-sized bed was made neatly, the sheets crisply white, and the space felt sterile. There was a desk by the window and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The curtains were drawn, casting a soft shadow over the room, but even the quiet comfort of the space couldn’t ease the tension that followed you inside.

Jey set his bag down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, but there was still no attempt to break the silence. You stood by the door, your body tense, wondering if you should say something or just let the silence settle. But the words didn’t come. There was too much to say, too much that had been left unsaid for far too long.

Instead, you took a deep breath and walked over to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect yourself. The hotel room, with its impersonal design and sterile comfort, seemed to reflect the state of your relationship with Jey—something that was once warm, but now felt cold. The mirror in the bathroom caught your reflection, and you sighed. You didn’t even recognize the woman staring back at you. She looked tired—worn out from the constant emotional back-and-forth.

You ran your hands through your braids, staring at your reflection. What am I doing? You thought as you sat your bag down, but the answer was unclear. On one hand you thought that maybe you were reading into things too much because Jey had never actually cheated on you throughout your relationship or given you a reason to believe he was going anywhere. But on the other hand, the amount of insecurity and jealousy you had seemed to be taking over you all because you thought your man was entertaining other women…especially Rhea.

The sound of Jey moving around in the other room broke the silence again, but it didn’t bring any comfort. To find some form of therapy, you grabbed your bonnet out of your bag and put it on, stuffing all of your braids underneath the silk fabric before turning the shower on, hoping the sound of the water would give you a moment of peace, a moment to think. But you knew it wouldn’t. You wanted things to feel right again, but it was starting to feel like you were living in a version of reality that didn’t belong to you anymore.

As you undressed and stepped into the shower, the water rushed over you, but it couldn’t wash away the unease. The more the hot water streamed over you, the more you felt the weight of everything—of the confusion, the jealousy, the hurt. Even the soap and small bubbles couldn’t cleanse your mind. And when you stepped out and dried off, you knew it wasn’t just the hotel room that felt empty. It was the space between you and Jey.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around yourself, the soft cotton providing little comfort against the swirl of emotions that still clung to you. You dropped the clothes you’d been wearing earlier into the laundry bag you found tucked in the corner of the closet, the fabric brushing against your legs as your mind raced. When you turned around, your gaze immediately landed on Jey. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands tightly intertwined in front of him. His posture was tense, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you with those dark eyes that seemed to carry all the weight of unspoken words.

It was clear he was upset, but instead of speaking, he just watched you—his jaw set, his gaze unwavering. The tension in the room thickened with every passing second, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were being scrutinized under a microscope. His silence spoke louder than any argument, and it was almost like he was daring you to say something. It was as if he wanted you to stay quiet and let him carry the weight of whatever this was, to allow him to make the rules for the weekend—rules that seemed to say you were his and this trip was a way to show you that.

“Is there somethin’ you wanna say?”

“Do you see anybody in here?”

“This still don’t prove anything, why would she be here when I’m here. And again you and her are all over the net.”

“See what I’m sayin’, yo ass trippin for no reason. Ain’t nobody coming up in here. You always listening to what people on the net saying and letting them get inside yo head and shit.” He said before kissing his teeth and taking the remote turning on Peacock and putting on a random Raw taping to play in the background.

You were too in your feelings to notice it and ended up looking at him with straight anger. “Nah Joshua, you look at her like you way too comfortable. It ain’t about listenin’ to no net shit, it’s bout what I see nigga. And what I see is my man flirting with another female like he really wanna be in between her legs f’real.”

Jey let out a soft chuckle, his golden grills on his fangs lining up perfectly with his bottom teeth, but that wasn’t a funny laugh. That was a ‘I’m getting sick of this shit’ laugh and you knew it all too well. “You think I wanna be in between her legs?” He said as he turned to you and started walking toward you no longer laughing but looking deadass serious. His voice dropped a bit having the same deepness from when he was in the bloodline.

“We finna be here all weekend Y/N and you still convinced I got another woman coming to my hotel room and that I wanna be in between her legs and shit. Let me show you who legs I’m really tryna be in between since you think you know everything” he said backing you into the wall pinning both his hands on each side of you trapping you right in front of him. He then leaned forward before planting a rough but passionate kiss on your lips.

At first you gave a bit of hesitation but with the feelings and thoughts from earlier slowly starting to dissipate with his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, you gave in as you opened your mouth allowing him inside of your cavern. Your tongue collided with his as your arms wrapped around his neck deepening the exchange between you two.

With one swift motion Jey’s hands left the wall and made their way to your towel instead snatching it off your body as well as your bonnet letting your most of your braids fall down your back as some fell to the sides of your face. As you began to run out of air, you slowly pulled away before taking Jey’s shirt off revealing the beautiful work of art underneath. His tribal tattoos were never failed to catch your attention, especially with how they contorted when he was mad due to his muscles tensing. Dammit Jey. You were too busy admiring him that you didn’t even notice him picking you up before your attention suddenly snapped back to him as your back hit the soft fabric of the king sized bed.

Jey kicked off his low panda dunks before crawling on top of you, you both getting into another passionate make out session before this time it was him who pulled away as he made his way to your neck. His kisses and his teeth grazing your skin made your body shudder as you leaned your head back to give him more room, while soft moans slipped from your lips. Jey’s hands glided down your waist and to your legs pushing them open as he slowly kissed down your chest, then to your stomach, and stopping just above your entrance. Now he could’ve dived right into it but he wanted to make you…wait. He placed tender kisses between your thighs making sure to go agonizingly slow before dragging his tongue between your folds and up to your clit. His hands gripped onto your legs, as he slowly dragged his tongue over your folds again.

What started out as anticipation and soft moans of pleasure quickly turned into full on moans, inappropriate sounds, and squirming. His tongue started to twist and slide through your folds and over your clit as you could do nothing but squirm as your legs began to shake. You bucked your hips as your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you. “Ughhh!” You couldn’t help yourself, you knew you two were in a hotel and the walls were paper thin but that didn’t stop you from letting out those sounds Jey loved so much.

“Hell nah ma, none of that runnin’ shit” he murmured pulling away just slightly before pushing your hips down and going back to putting his tongue to work. God. He moved that tongue so well. There was no way you could stay mad at him when he was making you feel this good. You couldn’t buck your hips so you were forced to literally endure the feeling of the knot in your stomach tightening along with your legs shaking. The slurping and lapping sounds of Jey eating you out didn’t help the situation as your nails found their way into his scalp. “J-Jey!” You moaned out his name as a slew of curse words left your lips due to your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, your body jolting as it did so. Gasps of air left your lips as Jey still didn’t let up knowing you loved to be overstimulated.

“S-Shit! I c-can’t, I can’t!” You said feeling another knot build up, still not fully recovered from your previous orgasm. “One more time” was all he mumbled against your folds as you suddenly felt two of his fingers enter your walls beginning to pump in and out of you. The pleasure was becoming more overwhelming by the second, with one curl of those two fingers against your g-spot you completely broke, spilling all over his fingers and his mouth. His moans beneath and the fact he was cleaning up the aftermath caused your legs to almost completely go numb, they were shaking already still reeling from the massive orgasm you just had. But it was nowhere near over yet.

Jey slowly pulled away not minding that some of your juices dripped down his beard. With one quick wipe with his hands, it was gone. With one swift finger motion, he beckoned you over as you obeyed and swung your legs to the side positioning yourself on your knees before connecting your lips with his. The taste of yourself on his tongue was driving you crazy because it was you and no one else. He returned the kiss and you being the sneaky girl you were decided to get a feel of that Samoan dick you missed so much. It was so hard, large, and you could tell he was eager based on the precum leaking from the head of it. A low growl slipped from his lips before Jey pulled away from the kiss and gently put you in doggy style position where you were facing the TV before getting behind you grabbing your hips. “You wanna feel this dick don’t you?” he asked before starting to rub his dick against your throbbing pussy, it was drenched due to the orgasms you had from earlier and that was all the lube he needed. He pushed inside of you with a quick thrust of his hips as he immediately let out a low moan with a mixture of a grunt. “God damn, baby you tight as fuck f’real” he said easing his way deeper into you which evoked a moan from you. “Yeah take all this in, all f’ me” he praised.

Your walls clenched around Jey as his soft and gentle movements turned into much more rough and faster ones. Jey was paying full attention to you right now and that’s how you liked it. He was too busy giving you back shots to think about anyone or anything else. This was how it was suppose to be. He was showing you who he truly wanted, and your body was reciprocating it. Your pussy was the one thing Jey would always get drunk off of, you’d end up in different positions afterwards and today was no different. The faster and rougher his thrusts got, the more your walls gripped him with desperation.

Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head as one minute you were letting out loud gasps and the next your nails were digging into the bed as Jey was pounding you from behind before forcing you to look at the tv screen in front of you. On the screen was Rhea and Damian currently attempting to take on the judgement day with just the two of them. But the numbers game was too much, you heard the YEET chants from the crowd but with Jey’s dick inside of you, it was nothing but background noise. You remembered this RAW, a lot of people expected him to be there due to the storyline. In reality he wasn’t there because they were prolonging it. But even though this was an old taping, your mind went to him not being there due to the events currently unfolding in your shared hotel room and the fact that he chose you over Rhea. Something about Rhea being dominated by the judgement day and your man being behind you made your pussy throb and your walls completely clench around Jey. “Look at that” he said while taking a hand full of your box braids into his hands. “You think she gets this dick ma, nah only you do” he said as his movement in his hips sped up and he made it a point to purposely brush over that spot of yours which caused your body to shake all over. “Uh huh, found that shit didn’t I? Doin’ all that yellin’ for no reason just to end up like this under me” he muttered before suddenly nailing that spot straight away being completely satisfied by the loud moan that left your lips. “J-Jey! P-Please…” you begged as the sound of flesh slapping against each other filled the room along with your moans and his grunts. Your braids slowly fell back down over your face as Jey’s hand let go of your hair but slowly wrapped his hand around your neck instead lifting your head back making you look up at him instead. “Please what? Look at me when you talk to me ma” he said as he hit that spot over and over again. “Ughhh! F-Fuck!” You moaned up doing your best to attempt to look at Jey but the pleasure was too much. “Whatchu say ma? You ain’t telling me nothin’” he said as his strokes drove you wild. The knot in your stomach was becoming tighter and your pussy was becoming wetter and wetter. “P-Please c-cum inside me!” You screamed out, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes from the pleasure. “You want me to nut in this pussy huh?” He said as his thrusts started to become sloppy indicating he was close. “Y-Yes Daddy!” You screamed as you came undone all over his cock unable to hold yourself back. Seeing you come undone was enough to send Jey over the edge as he let out a number of curse words, slamming into you one final time letting his seed cover your walls. “God damn, mmm” he said before letting out a sigh of pleasure.

Your body was slowly coming down from its third orgasm of the day before you looked at Jey panting. “We ain’t done right?” You asked not being able to help yourself.

“Done? Hell nah. We got all weekend.”

♡

Note: I really hope you liked it! 💕 also if there’s any spelling errors I’m so sorry😭

Divider credits: @enchanthings & @anitalenia

Taglist: @punksyeet @binnieaddict @sheaabuttaababyy (if I did not tag you, it would not let me and you will have to comment!)

#wwe #fanfic #smut #wwe fanfiction #18+ mdni #jey uso #wwe fandom #jey uso smut #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #black reader #fanfiction

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chlix · 10 months ago

Text

juno

bf! minho x fem! reader: you have baby fever. your boyfriend wants to be with you forever. turns out you can kill 2 birds with 1 stone

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive (MDNI, explicit dialogue)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, jokes about a breeding kink, marriage proposal, y/n is a little spoiled i gotta admit, this one is all over the place ya'll

a/n: minho's fic in my album series! this one is based on "juno". y/n is a LOT in this one but i found it way more fun and fitting to the song to write her that way rather than actually being down to earth and reasonable lol

You’re out at a mall with your friend Jia, having a lazy day shopping and eating overpriced food from the shops in the central plaza. It's been a while since you had time to bum around with her, and your boyfriend, Minho, had said he'd drive you there and take care of his own errands while he waited. He'd even handed you his second credit card and told you to get whatever you wanted, much to Jia's amusement. You wish you were more put off by him flaunting his money, but unfortunately you passed that point long ago. It's also due to the fact that his money is much appreciated at this point in your life. Currently, you’re a bit of a NEET; after you had to quit your last job, you’ve been doing little except sitting at home, attempting TikTok recipes, doing housework and fantasizing about having things like hobbies and life goals aside from marrying your boyfriend.

“That’s nothing new for you, though,” your friend Jia says. “You inherited the suburban princess aesthetic from your mother.”

“You say that as if we weren't raised on the same street” you say, words thick around the spoon of froyo in your mouth. “We’re both suburban princesses.”

Your eyes roam around the mall, people watching as you often do. Next to the frozen yogurt place you had just visited, there is a mother with her small toddler at the counter. The mother is stylishly dressed, in cute jeans and a red sweater, and her daughter matches perfectly in a tiny little red turtleneck and a corduroy pinafore press. She’s wearing little charms in her hair and has a backpack with a bunch of dangly charms that jingle as she fidgets. She is eyeing the froyo on the counter with big eyes as she waits for her mother to pay for it, ever so patient and polite. The cashier waves at her and the toddler waves back.

“Stopppp, look at them. Isn’t that girl so cute?”

Jia follows your eyeline to the mother and daughter at the froyo counter.

“She is. I love how her and mom are matching.”

“I can’t wait to have a little mini-me that I can wear matching outfits with.”

“You and I wear matching outfits all the time.”

“Yes, but I want to do it with someone cute.”

Jia’s eyes roll so hard that you know it must’ve hurt.

“Since when do you want kids, y/n?”

“Since always. Or I don’t know. Maybe I just was worried that it would be difficult? Or that I’d never find the right guy? But I think Minho would be a good father, so it’s kind of made me think about it again.”

“He seems like he’d be good with kids.”

“When we babysit my nephew, he’s really good with him. And he’s always been so attentive to me in everything, so I just know he would double down during pregnancy. He’d take bullets for me. He’d protect me, he’d bring me all my favorite foods he’d take care of me-”

“He really should be doing that all the time, not just when you’re pregnant. Like, what kind of cavewoman logic is this? Are you in heat or something?”

You take another bite of your froyo and savor it.

You’ve known Jia forever, and at this point her comments to you about your love life just go in one ear and out the other. She’s the one who introduced you to Minho, actually, so you’d thought maybe she’d spare you the lectures, but she seems to think your impulsivity would overrule Minho’s common sense. This isn’t you being impulsive, though. You’ve actually thought about it an embarrassing amount- the concept of Minho fathering your children. It’s not just some passing fancy.

When you’re thoroughly done enjoying your vanilla-passion fruit swirl, you deign to answer her.

“First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, no I’m not in heat. Is it so wrong to dream of motherhood? To yearn for something to care for?”

“You have three cats and seven potted plants.”

“I mean something that can love me back.”

“I’m telling Dori you said that.”

You ignore her, already lost in your little domestic fantasy. You could already imagine it. You could have a little girl who looked exactly like you. Or maybe just like you with Minho’s pretty eyes. You’ll develop all the “mom skills”, like sewing and kissing boo-boos and making baking soda volcanoes. And Minho would be there, giving her piggyback rides and pushing her on swing sets. He’d call both of you his “princesses” and you could take cute family photos for Christmas and mail them all your relatives. A perfect domestic life.

“Hello? Earth to y/n?”

You blink. Jia is looking at you with an exasperated expression.

“I’d ask you what you’re thinking about, but I already know.”

“Oh, really.”

“You only get that stupid expression on your face when you think about Minho.” Jia crumples up her trash and reaches behind her to throw it in a trash can. “Does he know you are having delusions of domesticity?”

“It’s not delusional. We’ve been together for like two years. We’ve talked about the future.”

“So he wants kids?”

“He wants whatever I want,” you say, and you can hear the lovesickness in your voice even before Jia lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Go ask him to get you pregnant right now then. He seems like the type to think that’s really hot.”

“Everything I do is hot. I’m a catch. I’d look extra hot pregnant. Working so hard even when I’m just sitting around all day.”

“Your favorite activity.”

You wink cheekily. “Of course. You should give it a try sometime.”

“Give what a try?”

A familiar voice from behind you makes you perk up. You whip around to see your boyfriend in the flesh, coming up behind you. He’s finally arrived. His presence improves your mood by approximately one thousand percent. You can sit up straighter and breathe deeper. The sun shines brighter on your face. His pace is so leisurely that it’s driving you mad. You want to stand up and drag him closer to you, so that as much of you is touching you as possible. The meter between you feels like a nautical mile.

Christ, maybe you are in heat. You think it’s possible you’ve been permanently ovulating since you met Minho. Just seeing him coming has you contemplating breaking several civil laws.

Jia rats you out immediately. “We’re talking about pregnancy.”

“Oh.” Minho stops where he is, as if blocked by an invisible wall. “Is someone you know expecting?”

“Not yet,” Jia says.

“Jia,” you hiss.

Jia ignores you, revenge for forcing her to listen to you for the past half hour.

“Y/n thinks that pregnancy suits her lifestyle. She thinks she’d look hot pregnant. What’s your opinion on the topic?”

“Don’t answer that,” you tell him. “Jia, come on.”

Jia shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that crazy of a question. Your boyfriend should think you look hot all the time.”

“And I do,” Minho interjects, smiling slyly. “Especially right now, as you’re staring daggers at me.”

Jia leans up and stage whispers to Minho, eyes still trained on you. “She specifically said ‘extra hot’, just so you know.”

“I struggle to think she could get any hotter,” Minho says in answering stage whisper. “She’d look equally pretty frozen solid, or zombified.”

“You know the saying is ‘until death do us part?’ You don’t have to keep loving her as a zombie.”

You try to be annoyed but you’re too busy cheesing for it to have any effect. “Okay haha fun’s over. Take me home now.”

Jia boos you as Minho grabs your hand to help you off the bench.

“As you wish,” he says, and kisses your hand with a flourish.

“I’ve gotta get going too. See you later, y/n.” She stands up and grabs her bag, then pauses and turns back. “If you’re pregnant the next time I see you, I will kill you.”

“You seriously give me no credit.”

Jia gives you an absolutely withering look and walks off.

“I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” you say mournfully. “She’s gonna start keeping tabs on me.”

“We’ll lock our doors and windows,” Minho says, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Home?”

Later that night, you’re lying on the couch searching up pictures of baby clothes. You have an entire Pinterest board for your future baby, and today’s scene at the park has inspired you to add to the collection. You scroll through little images of kids in duck outfits and Hello Kitty themed socks, of cute little barrettes to put in their wispy bangs. Your kids are going to be so well-dressed. They’ll make the other toddlers at the daycare jealous, and maybe even the moms too.

That’s good, though. It’s important to learn how to deal with adversity from a young age.

Your daughter is gonna be so well socialized and assertive and thick-skinned, just like her parents. She’ll get such good grades and be very polite. And you’ll get to show up to parent teacher conferences as the hottest mom in the entire class, which will be good for your ego, and then you can pass that confidence down to your child. It’ll be perfect. Your life will be perfect. You can see it in such clear and vivid detail.

Minho passes by you on the way back from the bathroom and glances down at your phone.

“Baby clothes?”

You blink up at him. You’re not embarrassed at being caught, but you are a little annoyed that he’s interrupted your daydreaming with one of his gateway questions.

“Yes. Our future child has to be up on fashion trends.”

“The fashion trends will have changed by the time you have a baby to dress up.”

To your own surprise, your heart actually stutters with the reminder that you are currently not, in fact, with child.

“Don’t remind me,” you whine, rolling over to hide your face in the cushions. “Jia already lectured me today.”

“Lectured?”

You partially roll back over to look up at him. “She says that I’m being delusional for wanting a baby so badly.”

“How is wanting to be a mother delusional?”

“Right? And I told her like what are you talking about, we’ve already talked about the future, and we’re gonna have kids, and she just gave me this look.”

“Jia’s just looking out for you. She doesn’t want you to rush into things.”

“Jia is a cynic and a skeptic. She thinks we’re too young to have a baby.”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Your visions of being a MILF dance through your head. “I think having kids young would be cute.”

Now Minho looks skeptical. “Really? Since when.”

“Since I had a paradigm shift. I always knew I wanted them, in a vague sense. But now I know that I want to have them with you, specifically, so it’s been on my mind a lot more.”

“You want to have my kids?”

You bristle. “Well they’d be my kids, too, y’know.”

“I know that-”

“And who else’s kids would they be? Do you envision us breaking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Minho says. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Right. So then eventually I’ll be having your kids. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Minho sits down next to you on the couch. “That’s really what you want?”

“Yes?” A single pang of doubt flashes across your chest. “Do you not want that?”

“No, I do, baby. I’d love to have a family with you. I just want to be sure we’re on the same page, and we’ve thought it through.”

“Well, like you said, we’re still young.” Jia’s admonishment of not being married flashes through your mind. “But sometimes I see little kids in public, or on TV, and I think, God, I want a baby so bad. Y’know? I want to be pregnant. I want to glow like that, and everything.”

Something complicated passes over his face. A lightbulb goes off in your head. It’s the same expression that he had when Jia had mentioned to him the topic of your conversation.

“Oh my god. You actually do think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Didn’t I say that at the mall?”

“No, you were teasing me. But now you’re being for real. You want to knock me up.”

Minho says nothing, but the tips of his ears redden. You shoot upright, delighted at the turn of events.

“Oh my god, you actually want to knock me up!”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No! Of course not. I want to be the only girl you want, and I want you to want me in every way.”

“Well you are, and I do,” he says flatly. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations is right,” you say. You’re giddy with energy. “Have you thought about it a bunch? Is that why you wanted me on the pill? So you could cum in me and indulge your breeding kink?”

“I don’t have a breeding kink.I just love you. There’s a difference.”

“You’ve said at least five times today you think I’d be hot while I’m pregnant,” you remind him. “Seems kind of breeding kink-ish to me.”

“You have spent the entire day fantasizing about having my kids. That’s the definition of a breeding kink.” Minho leans further into your space, and though his words are teasing, his tone is decidedly not. You feel heat start to run through you, and not from embarrassment. You scoot closer to him, pulled by magnetic forces beyond your comprehension.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just life planning. I’m making vision boards.” The lie is so flimsy your lips trip as you try to say it.

“Uh-huh. Right. Because you normally start breathing heavy when you make vision boards.”

“This is unfair. Of course I’ll get turned on when you start talking like this.”

“Like what?” he says, leaning even closer. You can feel his breath on your face, and a shiver goes down your spine.

“Like you’re going to fucking breed me.”

His smile is absolutely feline. “That can be arranged.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Baby, I want whatever you want.”

You grab onto his shoulders, tight. “Then take me to bed, hot stuff.”

His eyes darken. A hand comes up to your face, and he kisses you gently. He grabs you by the hand…

and of course, he gives you what you want.

Your period is a week late.

It’s actually Minho who notices and points it out, which causes you to freak out and call Jia, who freaks out worse than you and demands that you go to the store immediately and buy a test. You get three different brands, and also an entire chocolate cake which will either be for congratulations or for emotional support.

Minho waits outside the bathroom door, an encouraging presence as you try to calm yourself down enough to read the labels.

“Whatever happens, I’m here,” he tells you. You can’t tell whether he wants it to be positive or negative. You aren’t even sure what you want. Yes, you want a baby, yes, babymaking sex is hot and you want to keep having it whether it gets you knocked up or not, but you’re both still young, and he has a career, and your apartment doesn’t have a third bedroom so there’d be nowhere for the nursery that you’ve already meticulously planned out in your mind-

The timer goes off. You open your eyes and look down.

“Negative,” you say, loud enough for Minho to hear outside the door. “All of them.”

Minho doesn’t say anything. You let out a deep breath, tension falling out of you, and open the door. Minho is on the other side, expression cautious.

“Is it bad that I’m a little disappointed?” he says, and his tone is joking but the words stick in your chest because you agree. The relief you expected to feel is nowhere to be found.

“I hope not, because that makes two of us.”

He draws you into a hug, and you sink into him, processing all the events of the last hour.

“And I was all ready to start building a crib.”

You snort. “Picking up carpentry as a hobby?”

“A real father should work with their hands. I need thick, callused hands to hold my baby with, so they feel smaller and daintier by comparison.”

“Wild thing to say, honestly.”

“It works on you.”

You break free and shove him playfully. “You’re ridiculous. You’d be a good father even with your soft city boy hands.”

“You think so?” he says, his tone heavier than before. You don’t even hesitate.

“Yes. Any child would be lucky to have you as a father.” You sigh dramatically. “Unfortunately it seems my uterus didn’t pull through this time.”

Minho is silent for a moment. “Well. We could…try again.”

You stare at him. “Sorry?”

“I mean, you said I’d be a good father. You said you wished the test was positive. I want that too. Just because it didn’t work this time doesn’t mean that-”

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Are you serious?” You’re gob smacked. You can’t believe that your usually cautious boyfriend is proposing you have a baby right now.

“I’m serious,” he confirms. “You’d be such a good mom. And I know how much you want this.”

“And you think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Obviously,” he says, without a hint of jest.

“But I’m- we’re so young, and I’m unemployed, and-”

“Sorry, were you planning on getting a job any time soon?”

Your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut up.”

“No, it’s perfect. You can be a loving stay-at-home mom. I’ll be the breadwinner.”

“Stop it. Stop talking this way. You’re- do you know how pissed my friends would be? What would I tell Jia? She almost bit my head off over the phone earlier, did you hear her? She was so pissed that I was thinking of motherhood instead of marriage-”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Don’t start.”

“Y/n, I’m not joking.”

You actually think you’re going to faint. Your heart is racing and you’re breaking out in a sweat. Is it hot in here? Did you forget to pay the AC bill this month?”

“Are you proposing to me right now?” You’re trying to joke but you’re breathless. “You’re proposing to me as a gimmick to get me to bear your children?”

Minho cringes. “Saying it like that makes me sound manipulative.”

“It’s kinda manipulative.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to be married before having kids. And I want to do both of those things with you eventually, so why not now?”

Your vision is blurring. For a moment you worry you actually are fainting, but then you realize that you’re crying instead.

“Stop playing with me, Minho, I’m so serious.”

“I’m not playing with you. I actually already bought a ring, but I didn’t know if the timing was right. Like you said, we’re young, and I didn’t know how you felt about getting married so soon. So I thought I’d ask eventually but-”

You lunge forward and kiss him. If you’d felt stressed earlier while taking the test, that’s nothing compared to the depth of emotion you’re feeling now as you hold each other. It’s like joy is filling you up so much that you don’t know where your body behind and ends.

When you finally separate, Minho asks,

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re not proposing to me in our living room,” you tell him. “You have to ask me again. Later. Don’t even show me the ring. Wait, what color is it? You know I only wear gold.”

“You think I’d forget something like that? I’m going to be your husband. I know what jewelry you wear.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you think you’d actually collapse to the ground from the way you absolutely swoon.

“Propose to me again and I’ll say yes. Right now, I need you to put a baby in me.”

“You want to walk down the aisle pregnant? Your dream wedding dress has a corset.”

“Oh my god, we’ll do it before I start showing, just fuck me, please!”

Minho doesn’t make you ask a third time.

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz imagines #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #another one under posts that are only funny to me lmfaoooo but this was SO fun to write #short n sweet album series

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