#i need to invest in an office chair man | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lusmeitli · 4 months ago

Text

But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break.

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him.

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together.

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left.

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?”

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand.

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped.

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #mcu loki #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki smut #snow

325 notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 9 months ago

Text

౨ৎ꣑ৎThe Heir౨ৎ꣑ৎ

(requested)(@kayleigh--23 <3) [fem reader] contains: pregnancy angst, arranged marriage, pressure to become pregnant. pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: You thought being married to Coriolanus Snow would be enough, but when there is pressure on the two of you to have a child, the events that follow are life changing. author’s note: Oh I do adore pregnancy angst. Another take on the arranged marriage trope, please enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"...an heir."

You could barely hear the words through the door. Your husband of one and a half years and an old Snow family friend, a man called Mr. Vesta, had disappeared into his study an hour ago and they hadn't allowed you in. It had sounded important, and you couldn't help it, you needed to know what it was. Especially after you'd heard your name mentioned more than once.

With one ear to the door, you'd caught bits and pieces of the conversation. None of it made sense in your mind, this new bit of information least of all.

Coriolanus Snow was the least objectionable option when it came to marriage. Not that you'd had a choice at all in the matter, but for your own peace of mind you pretended. You pretended it hadn't been a strategic political move on his part to marry someone from your family. You pretended Mr. Vesta wasn't overbearingly and old fashioned-ly invested in the image the two of you presented as a married couple.

The goal was to make him president. You knew that much. And Mr. Vesta, as well as having known Coriolanus his entire life, had experience in running for office. But you knew very little else. Politics in Panem were a mystery to you, and at times they could be archaic. At least, the things everyone wanted you to do were.

The dresses you had to wear, the people you were seen with, how you acted. Hell, the arranged marriage itself seemed that way to you. But this was how it was done. Your own mother had married your father for similar reasons, though her situation had nothing to do with politics, only social gain. Yours was both.

You went into the marriage with a positive attitude. This will be what you make of it, you'd been told. You figured if you walked in with a positive attitude and determination it would work out the best it could.

But then you met your husband to be.

He was handsome but cold. Charming but manipulative. Attentive at times but distant at most. Every good thing about him was punctuated by a flaw. He'd make a good politician, you'd noted.

The wedding was a blur of photographers and fed lines. He'd barely acknowledged you, and you knew every look, every touch was false. It cheapened the whole experience for you, and a resentment built up inside you.

At least after the wedding night he'd allowed separate bedrooms.

Maybe you'd have felt guilty about your feelings toward him if he'd shown any sign of fondness toward you. But he didn't. He ignored you most days, except when he needed your influence or your image or your body.

Which is why now, in the present, you hardly worried about the consequences of eavesdropping. If they were talking about you in there, you deserved to know.

"...bring her in..."

Forgetting your confidence, you scurried away as quietly as you could, returning to the sitting room, where you'd last been spotted by them. Picking up a book, you pretended to read until Mr. Vesta, an older man with a beard, came in and said that your presence was required in the study.

Ignoring the way he'd spoken to you in your own home, you followed him back through the study doors, nodding at everyone in the room before your eyes moved to your husband.

Coriolanus was sitting behind his desk, a look of discontentment on his face. What had they been talking about in here? You moved to his side automatically. He may have not been your number one pick, but he was the safest person in the room for you to stand by.

Putting your hand on the back of his chair, you looked between them. "What did you need from me?"

"We're here to discuss a proposition," Mr. Vesta said, looking entirely too comfortable. He nodded at your husband. "Snow?"

Coriolanus took in an almost frustrated breath and turned up to you. He held eye contact with you for a moment before speaking. "It has been suggested that we..." he inhaled through his nose. "...produce an heir."

You blinked in surprise, doing a double take. When you looked at the other man, you could see that this wasn't a joke. They were serious.

"...No," you said in disbelief, looking back at your husband. "This was never part of the arrangement."

"Things change," Mr. Vesta said, giving you a pointed look. "It is imperative that you produce an heir by the end of the year. A male heir."

That sentence was so offensive to you that you had to look away for a moment. When you gathered your manners back, you said, "Why is this suddenly so important? Isn't us being married enough?"

"Coriolanus is the last of the Snow name," Mr. Vesta said, seeming to think he was providing an explanation. "It would have to happen eventually. In the best interest of keeping the old family names around."

"I don't see how that serves your interests," you said stiffly, and Coriolanus grabbed your hand, squeezing it as a warning, the cool of his ring pressing into your skin.

"It was of the utmost importance to Crassus that I, specifically, see this through," the bearded man said in stern tones. "He hoped his son would be able to carry it out on his own-" he gave Coriolanus his own pointed look- "but since he has not, it was time for me to step in. Not to mention that having a son would increase political gains greatly. Seeing that an old family is still strong."

You were dazed. It all felt so ridiculous to you. Of all the things they'd made you do for this role, this had to be the worst. They were asking you to not just sleep with a man you hated, but to bear his child. And Coriolanus himself looked less than happy about it.

"Within the year," Mr. Vesta repeated, and he stood up. "Both your image and your obligations to your family depend on it." He nodded stiffly at you, then left. You never got the impression that Mr. Vesta was all that fond of you. He didn't see you as a person, more as a machine that broke now and then but was ultimately served its' purpose.

Once he was gone, you turned to Coriolanus, your expression horrified. "You're not seriously thinking about this are you?"

"We don't have a choice," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Yes we do," you protested, kneeling by his chair, grasping the arm. You were trying to look him in the eye, but he was avoiding you. "We're already married. Your image is intact-"

"But my family isn't," he said sharply, turning suddenly to look at you. "You don't understand. I have a responsibility to continue the line and Vesta reminded me of that." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I apologize that I didn't disclose this before but it's not optional."

"Coriolanus-"

"You think I want to do this?" His voice was irritated, and he stood up suddenly. You did too, surprised.

"No, but-"

"We have to," he said angrily, pacing. "I don't want to do it either but there are no other options. I need Vesta's support, and unfortunately that comes with the wishes of my late father."

You were silent, tears pricking your eyes as you realized this was really going to have to happen. Scoffing in disbelief and trying to hide your emotion, you buried your face in your hands.

He sighed, and you heard him move closer to you, his polished shoes making a distinct sound on the hardwood floor. "Sweetheart...I'm sorry. I am. But you're my wife. You know that means fulfilling certain...obligations."

Coriolanus took your hands in his, removing them from your face. "We'll make the process as quick as possible, okay?"

When you nodded, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "That's a good girl. The sooner you're pregnant the sooner it'll be over with."

It was terrifying how well Coriolanus knew himself.

The domineering persona he'd built up when entering the political game may as well have become him. It was a skill he'd honed- the art of pretend.

But every thorn had its flower.

You.

Before meeting you he had high hopes for marriage. He'd hoped you'd be tolerable to look at, decent in conversation, with half a brain. Someone who'd please him, but nothing more.

But you were far beyond that.

Upon your first meeting he knew he was doomed. You were extraordinarily beautiful, with a pretty laugh. And so clever. You'd discussed literature and art so naturally, easy as breathing. Within the first hour of knowing you he knew he could fall deeply, madly in love with you.

And therein laid the problem.

Love was not the goal. In fact, love strayed so far from the goal that it was almost the opposite. If Coriolanus fell in love with you, it would ruin him. His mind, his soul, his pursuits. He'd gone to Vesta afterward and asked if there was anyone else, anyone at all. Surely there was some other girl who was less...enticing, but still had good connections.

Vesta hadn't seen a problem with the arrangement. He'd chided Coriolanus for it. He had the most sought-after woman in the Capitol. Your social status would make him more favorable in the eyes of voters, as would seeing him in love. Seeing no other options, Coriolanus had agreed.

To marrying you, not being in love.

He'd endured the game, accompanying you to dinners and galas, and going through with the wedding, all the while keeping you at arm's length. Coriolanus resolved that the only way to keep himself from falling in love was distance. And distance he maintained.

Except for at public events, he avoided you. Occasionally, he'd beckon you to his bed, whenever he needed to relieve some stress or tension, but that was the extent of it. He couldn't help himself- you were just so perfect. And you were his wife after all.

No matter how he justified his actions, it still felt wrong.

With Vesta's newest demand Coriolanus felt his control over the situation slipping. The old man didn't know what he was asking of him. Honestly how could he have, but it was still frustrating. He was asking them to produce a child as casually as one would ask a favor.

The worst part was seeing how distraught you were over it. A bit of his heart had warmed at seeing how you'd come to stand by his side but it was squashed quickly by what he had to tell you.

An heir. And not just an heir, a son.

Coriolanus could have strangled Vesta. It was ridiculous how invested he was in such private affairs. But his father's old friend was experienced in an area he desperately needed help in: politics. So, he had no choice but to accept.

Seeing you on the verge of tears had nearly broken him. He allowed himself to comfort you, just a little, convincing himself that that was what any husband would do, even if he didn't love his wife, which Coriolanus certainly didn't.

You fell pregnant quickly, which he was thankful for. For his sake but surprisingly, more for yours.

Naturally, he kept close tabs on you while still trying to maintain the distance he'd determined was the best solution for the situation. Reports were delivered to him daily.

You were quiet most days, hardly speaking to anyone. He felt guilt over that. Vesta and their public relations team had determined that for the first bit of pregnancy it was best for the two of you to stay out of the spotlight. That meant you were hardly able to leave. And with his insistence on distance, well...it was inevitable that you'd be lonely.

As the months progressed, his reports contained more concerning information. You were losing weight at an alarming rate, becoming more drawn. The baby was doing exceptionally well thanks to the doctors he'd brought in. But you...you were suffering for it.

He saw evidence of this when he was standing at the window of his study one day, taking a pause from his work, when he saw you in the rose garden wandering amongst the blooms.

The reports had not done your condition justice. Even from the window on the third floor he could see how thin you were, even with your belly swelling.

Beautiful, he couldn't help thinking as he watched you. Even in your current state, you were glowing. He tossed a look over his shoulder at his papers, a mountain of work he suddenly did not feel like doing. then in a split-second decision, he abandoned his study and headed down the stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.

Heading into the rose garden, he hesitated at the sight of you. You were bent slightly over a flower, lifting the rose to your nose. The corners of your lips turned up slightly as the fragrance hit you. Turning slightly, you caught sight of him, and straightened, your hand sliding over your belly immediately. "Coriolanus."

"Sweetheart," he greeted, stepping closer.

You looked a little puzzled. "Did you need something?"

He felt a little dazed, unsure really why he came out here. "No...I just..." Coriolanus was now less than a foot away from you. "I wanted to see how you were."

Your expression grew slightly more surprised, but you stayed graceful. "I see."

"Yes," he said, unable to stop looking at you.

Biting your lip, you looked to the side, fingers splayed out over your belly. "I'd have thought you'd gotten enough from your reports."

He blanked. "You know about those?"

"You aren't very discreet," you said, giving a tight smile. "Besides, I know you. You're nosy."

He sniffed a laugh at that. "It's hardly being nosy when it's concern for my wife."

Silence.

Your hand fell off your belly and you moved to examine another rose, a white one. "I didn't know you cared for my wellbeing."

He followed you, tracing your steps. "You're carrying my child, sweetheart."

"Not by either of our choice," you said softly. You reached over your belly to touch one of the rose petals on the outside of the flower. "It is an obligation."

"And yet here we are," he said, picking the rose. He snapped the stem, tucking it behind your ear, his hand sliding under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. "Making the best of our situation."

Your doe eyes as you looked up at him nearly melted his heart. Coriolanus wished he could paint a portrait of you as you were right now: belly round and full of his child, one of his family roses in your hair. You looked so utterly his.

"You haven't been well sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "Even if I wasn't getting reports-"

"I'm fine. As fine as I can be," you said quietly, trying to avoid his eyes. "Growing a child is taxing, believe it or not."

"This is different." Coriolanus took your hand, which hung limply in his. "I worry about you."

"There is no need for it." You walked over to a stone bench, sitting with both your hands beside you. Your dress fell over your belly in such a way that your knees were not visible. The little detail made you all the more endearing to him.

"Darling." Coriolanus sat beside you, taking your hand once again. "I know this is hardly ideal, but I need you to try."

"What on earth do you think I have been doing?" you asked, looking up at him.

"You're fading," he said simply.

Taking in a breath, you turned slightly to face him. "I'm doing the best I can. I'm pregnant, you'll have your boy. There is nothing more to ask of me."

"Part of that obligation is taking care of yourself," he said, looking you straight in the eye.

"Am I not doing enough?" you exhaled softly. "I don't know why you're so concerned. You've ignored me for the brunt of our marriage. You do not seem to feel any affection for me. I don't see why you should care."

"You know exactly why I care," he insisted, his tone growing frustrated. "I cannot watch you wither away into nothing."

He stood up, holding out his hand. "When is the last time you ate?"

You bit your lip, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. "This morning."

It was nearly the evening. "Come. Let's find something."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly.

"Sweetheart," he said earnestly back, extending his hand further. Even though he wanted to stay distant, there was a protective urge festering inside him, one he couldn't ignore like he'd done in the past.

You pursed your lips for a moment, then seemed to decide something. Taking his hand, you carefully stood up and let him lead you back up to the house.

As he found you something to eat, he thought of his earlier promise to himself not to let himself fall for you. He knew deep down that you had the potential to entrance him, make him adore you. Despite his aversion to this trait of yours, he knew he couldn't keep you at arm's length any longer. Not when your health was on the line.

Perhaps he could resist but stay close.

Your pregnancy progressed with a few things to note.

The first being that your health improved greatly. You were kept under watch, and your weight became less concerning. You found yourself feeling better, a little less tired all the time.

The second notable thing was the sudden closeness of your husband.

Since the day in the rose garden, he had become warmer towards you, more open. He took meals with you every day, diligently making sure you'd eaten enough.

One evening he summoned you to his study, surprising you.

"Is something the matter?" You stood in front of his desk, slightly worried. You'd rushed up so quickly that you hadn't put your book down, your finger still marking your place.

"Will you sit with me?" he requested, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

You tilted your head, sitting down carefully, hand over your belly. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "I just...wanted you to be close to me. Read your book."

Slowly, you nodded, leaning back in your chair. You opened your book and began to read, peering up to see that he'd begun writing again. Slightly confused but surprisingly pleased that he wanted you near, your eyes found the page again.

Shifting in your chair, you did your best to get comfortable, but it proved to be a difficult task. Your belly didn't exactly make things accommodating for you. Doing simple tasks with ease was becoming increasingly harder.

Apparently, this fact was noticeable to your husband as well. He set his pen down. "Darling?"

You looked up. "Hmm?"

Coriolanus patted his lap. "Come sit."

Tilting your head, your brow furrowed confusedly. "You want me to-?"

"You're uncomfortable," he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms open and ready for you. "Come."

Hesitantly you stood up, book in hand, and went around the desk to sit across his thighs. He secured an arm around you, a little over your belly and you leaned back against him comfortably. "Is this okay?"

"More than," he said, smiling just a little. "Stay here."

And with that, he went back to his papers, working with one hand and keeping you against him with the other. You returned to your reading, perfectly content against him.

This became a routine of sorts. You'd come shyly into his study; he'd hold out an arm for you and you'd sit on his thigh and read. You began to look forward to it, to this time you spent together. His touch was somehow comforting to you.

That was the third thing to note. How much you liked his closeness. The way he went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable, to make sure you weren't lonely.

That wasn't to say there weren't challenges.

At the first gala you attended with him since becoming pregnant, you knew it was going to be a trying affair. Coriolanus was attentive, whispering to you that he'd get you out as soon as possible.

Dressed in a white gown that accentuated your pregnancy, you knew pictures of you and Coriolanus would be splashed across every headline. Keeping that in mind, you did your best to be gracious, to smile and say the right things.

But, three hours into an event that would surely last all night, you found yourself becoming weary. You tugged at Coriolanus' arm, which you'd been glued to all night, but he didn't notice. He was speaking with a senator, engrossed in conversation.

His wife turned to you, starting to speak. "How have things been so far? With the baby?"

You smiled tightly, not upset with her, but tired. "Very well. It's been a wonderful experience."

"How lovely," she smiled, eyeing your figure. "It is a wonder to be sure. A great deal of people have thought you'd never give him a child."

You didn't quite know how to respond to that, so you merely smiled shyly.

"And you're certain it's a boy? We certainly don't need any more young girls around here," the woman laughed, oblivious to your discomfort.

"I suppose we'll see," you nodded, stifling a yawn with your hand and tugging at Coriolanus' arm again. He didn't respond.

"I suppose you aren't eating enough then," the woman noted, raising an eyebrow as she caught your yawn. "If you were you wouldn't be so tired. Or thin for that matter. I know when I was-"

"Darling," Coriolanus cut in, turning to you. "I believe it is time for us to leave." He nodded politely at the woman in front of you and escorted you out, one hand holding one of yours and the other on your back.

Once you were alone at home, you started to cry, a hand over your mouth as you let yourself break down. Your fatigue, the unsolicited advice, the comments on your appearance...it was all too much. You couldn't stand any of it.

It was just another reminder to you of how alone you were. You had no friends- the women of the Capitol were less than inviting, only speaking to you out of obligation and jealousy. And your husband...well, you weren't sure what to think of him at the moment.

Knowing you needed to move around to calm yourself down, you left your room, wandering down the hallway. You tried to keep your breathing even, a hand on your heart as you walked.

You stumbled upon the ballroom, opening the door and wandering inside. The vast emptiness of the large room made you feel small, and you marveled at the feeling. Sometimes being married to Coriolanus made everything feel more heightened. But being alone in this large room made everything feel smaller...less important. It was wonderful.

There was a piano in the corner of the room, and you meandered over to it, running your fingers along the keys. In your training as a socialite, you'd had several lessons in the instrument, but it had been a long time since you'd played.

You sat on the bench carefully, positioning your hands on the keys and beginning to play an old favorite. Muscle memory was your companion, and your fingers moved nimbly and easily. It was comforting to know that you still knew how to do it, that not everything in your past was easily forgotten.

When you looked up after you finished playing, Coriolanus was standing in the doorway. The corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, and he walked over to you. You turned slightly on the bench as he did.

Your husband knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He lifted his eyes to meet yours, seeming to take you in. You were still in the same white dress you'd worn to the event. He squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry. I know tonight was hard."

Closing your eyes, you nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'm okay." Coriolanus was still looking up at you when you opened your eyes, and you gave him a small smile when you saw how sincere he was in his apology.

"Are you tired?" he asked softly, searching your eyes.

You shook your head. Somehow your fatigue had vanished somewhere in your walk through the halls.

"Okay." He nodded and stood up, helping you stand as well. "Will you come with me?"

It was a genuine question, and you nodded at it, somehow trusting him more in that moment than you ever had before.

He led you upstairs and up to a door you recognized as his room. You hesitated before going inside but ultimately decided to follow him. Coriolanus kicked off his shoes and sat you down on his bed, hands in yours. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you managed, looking down at your joined hands.

"Darling," he murmured.

"I just...it gets so lonely sometimes," you said softly, looking up at him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Coriolanus breathed, lifting your chin and searching your eyes. "I had no idea."

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. "It just gets to be too much sometimes."

His hand came to your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Sweetheart." You opened your eyes. He brought his forehead to yours, the gesture surprisingly comforting. "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel this way."

"I feel like I'm all alone in this," you said quietly, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Coriolanus pulled you closer to him, his expression softer than you'd ever seen it. He kissed your temple. "I'm sorry darling. I know that's my fault."

"It's not. Not really," you murmured, leaning into him. "I know you didn't want this."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer for it," he kissed your forehead. Then Coriolanus took your face into his hands, and you leaned into his touch. "I want you to know how grateful I am for you."

You softened between his hands, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Grateful?"

"Grateful," he clarified, looking over you, your body and your belly. "Grateful because you have given yourself wholly to me. And you might say you didn't have a choice. But you did. And you chose to do this for me. Whatever the reason is, I am grateful for you."

You were stunned at this, your lips parting slightly. He saw you. He had seen you and he cared. A tiny smile made its way onto your face as you looked up at him. "That means a great deal."

"You deserve more than a great deal," he breathed, his hands sliding from your cheeks to your shoulders. "After everything...what you've given me..."

His voice was husky. "Nobody's ever done anything close to this much for me. You..."

"Coriolanus," you whispered, your lips ever so close to his. Months ago, you never would have allowed it, never would have gotten so close. But things were different now. The child growing inside you had changed everything.

"I'll never let you feel alone again," he breathed. "Never let you feel undervalued, unappreciated...nothing less than what you are."

"And what's that?" you asked.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "The beautiful mother of my child. A woman who is more than I deserve."

"Hardly," you looked up at him, feeling like you were seeing him for the first time. His expression was caring, his touch gentle. He seemed so different now than he was at the start of your marriage.

"Let me show you." Coriolanus muttered, hands coming back to yours, lifting them and kissing your fingers once more.

Your heart pounded, breath quickening, and you nodded. He set your hands down, moving his hand to the zip of your dress and pulling back slightly to look at you. You nodded and turned so he'd have easier access. He slid the zip down carefully and you helped him move the dress over your shoulders and down your body. It ended up as a pile of fabric beside his bed.

Gently, Coriolanus laid you back onto the bed, eyes roaming over you. He appeared entranced by you. Your skin was glowing, your body curvier, belly swollen. His lips parted. "Beautiful," he breathed, leaning down. Your lips were terribly close to his...

You took the final step and pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that started innocent but quickly became searing.

He pulled you in by the waist, pressing you against him. You knew from experience that Coriolanus' kisses were hungry, but tonight he must have been starving. The way his lips moved against yours was sinful, but you wanted it, wanted it bad.

Your hands moved of their own accord, tugging at his shirt buttons and discarding the garment once it was unbuttoned. His pants were the next to go, joining your dress and his shirt on the floor. When he kissed you, his hands wandered over your body, reaching for the clasp of your undergarment. His touch set you on fire.

When he'd gotten you completely bare and he was in the same state, he pulled back, not kissing you for a moment, just looking. You squirmed a little under his gaze, which was intense although caring. "What is it?" you questioned softly.

"Breathtaking." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You...carrying my child...you're very nearly a goddess."

That made the corners of your lips turn up sweetly, and you pulled him down for another kiss, his body hovering over you, careful not to put too much weight on your belly.

As you laid tangled in his sheets in the aftermath of it, your body was more wholly satisfied than it had been in a long time. You looked over at him, smiling softly and resting on your side. He reached out and rested his hand back on your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You felt a connection with him then, for the first time since your pregnancy began.

Coriolanus leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and feather light. He moved on the bed, so he was facing you. The soft light combined with what you'd just done made him look a way that pulled at your heart.

His eyes never left yours. You recognized that look. He was making sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. Usually, you only saw that look at public events but seeing it right now after something so intimate sent a flutter through you.

"Will you stay tonight?" he murmured, one hand in your hair.

"Yes," you breathed. He opened his arms and let you snuggle close. As you drifted off, you felt one of his hands wander to your belly, caressing it gently. It was the first time he'd really touched it your entire pregnancy.

For the first time, you began to think of the baby in your belly as yours too. A baby. Your hand ran over your bump, and you smiled softly. It was both of your child. As much yours as it was his.

And you didn't mind it one bit.

He had vowed not to fall for you.

He had spent countless hours convincing himself he hadn't.

But after the night of the gala, he couldn't deny it anymore.

Every time Coriolanus looked at you, whether it be at the breakfast table when the sunlight filtered through the windows and hit your face just right, or when he looked up from his work every night when you were on his lap to see your concentrated face as you read, he felt the tendrils of feeling close around his heart.

He found himself becoming more affectionate with you. He used your pet names in an abundance, and he always felt like he needed to be touching you. You were the bright point in his life.

The last months of your pregnancy were bliss. Vesta rarely called on him, so he was free to spend all he free time with you.

Walking in the gardens, reading side by side. He'd press a kiss to your temple now and then, keeping you close, making sure you were well.

He feared childbirth for you the closer you got to it. Thoughts of his own mother, and the stories he'd heard of swam through his head and he held you a little tighter because of it.

Now he insisted you sleep in the same room as him, wanting to keep an eye on you. Sometimes he'd wake in the middle of the night and just watch you sleep, making sure your breathing was steady, wanting to be around in case you needed anything. He was paranoid you'd go into labor while he was asleep.

And of course, when you finally did, he was.

You woke him in a panic, the bedsheets soaked, telling him in hurried tones that it was time, that the baby was coming. He leapt into action immediately, sending for the doctor. The two of you had fallen asleep in your bedroom tonight, and when he tried to move you, you whimpered and shook your head, a cramp rippling through your body.

The doctor arrived, and everything was a blur after that. He never left your side, even though the sight of you in pain made him feel faint.

Before the both of you knew it, the baby was out, and you were collapsing back into the pillows, your body exhausted. Coriolanus looked over to the doctor, who was holding his new baby...

Girl.

Coriolanus stood up, his heart racing. A girl. Vesta would be furious. He was just outside the door after all, expecting the news any moment now.

He went to stand by the window as the doctor handed you the baby, gathering his thoughts. What would he tell Vesta? More importantly, what was the man going to do? His blood started to boil as he thought of Vesta hurting you in any way for this.

Looking over at you with the baby girl in your arms, close to your chest, he was filled with a sense of wonder. You'd grown his child, pushed it out of your body, and he was supposed to be upset that it wasn't a boy?

The door burst open, and Vesta revealed himself, looking over the scene. You rushed to cover yourself, and Coriolanus moved to your side, making sure you had some privacy.

"For heaven's sake Vesta," he said protectively. "You couldn't have allowed us ten minutes?"

"Not when the bloodline is at stake, my boy," Vesta said, grinning. "So, your son?"

"Not a son," you spoke up, cradling the baby close to you. You smiled down at your daughter, who was fast asleep.

The man's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what she said, Vesta," Coriolanus said in quiet tones. "Not a son. A daughter."

Vesta's face grew cold. "This is unacceptable. A daughter isn't good for the family."

"And yet," Coriolanus folded his arms, still standing in front of you.

"She will have to be hidden away. We'll tell the public the baby was stillborn," Vesta moved forward, as if to take the child from you.

You shook your head, holding the baby tight to your chest. "No, no don't."

"To have a firstborn daughter isn't good for your image," Vesta reached out for the baby. "Your wife is clearly defective in some way. We'll have the child taken away. Given to another Capitol family."

"No," you cried out, looking fearfully up at Coriolanus. You looked so scared, and the surge of protectiveness that shot through him was amplified with what you said next. "Coriolanus, don't let him take her."

As Vesta moved toward you, Coriolanus stood in his path. "You won't be taking our daughter."

Vesta's face grew sterner still. "I beg your pardon?"

Coriolanus was unmoving. "A son will come eventually. But in the meantime, our daughter will be claimed as ours."

"Your image-" Vesta started.

"Will not be ruined by a child," he cut him off. Coriolanus took a step toward Vesta, his frame tall and intimidating. "Since I enlisted your help in my career, you have been rude, demanding, and disrespectful, especially toward my wife." He glanced back at you. Your eyes were wide as you held the baby.

"If I ever see you insult my wife again," Coriolanus started, his voice quiet but deadly. "Even if I hear of it, I will not hesitate to make you disappear. You see, since last year, my resources have grown exceptionally. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Vesta was silent, looking shocked at his words.

"Now get out before I have you escorted," Coriolanus pointed at the door. "Out."

Vesta huffed, straightening his suit. "If your career collapses, you'll only have yourself to blame." He cast a dirty look at you. "Well, I suppose not only you."

And with that, the older man left.

Coriolanus stood there seething for a moment. He had half a mind to run to his study and call the right people to have Vesta taken out right now. But he controlled himself. Later, he thought.

For now, he turned to you, kneeling beside the bed and pushing sweaty strands out of your face. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"You stood up for me," you said, smiling softly as you looked up at him. You looked down at the baby. "You didn't let him take her."

"How could I?" Coriolanus murmured, leaning in and nudging his nose with yours, which made you smile again. "How could I when I..." he swallowed. "When I love you too much to let that happen."

Your eyes widened a bit, your smile sweeter. "You love me?"

"I think I've loved you ever since I've known you," he said, the adrenaline from the interaction with Vesta seeming to give him courage. "And after this..." he reached down to the baby, stroking her soft little cheek with his finger. "I can't keep it in anymore."

You watched as he sat on the bed next to you, encircling you and the baby in his arms, pushing a kiss to your hair. He smiled, a real smile he always found himself wearing around you.

"I didn't think I'd be able to love you when I married you," you said quietly, looking up at him. "But somehow I do."

He lifted your chin, kissing you briefly. "You love me?" He'd repeated your words, which made you smile.

"I love you," you confirmed, looking into his eyes. You looked so tired, but happy. He'd never understood before how one could feel happy because of someone else's joy, but now he did.

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you and the baby, around his little family.

The sun rose that morning, the dawn of a new day, but also a new life for him. He now truly had his wife and his daughter, both so loved.

And he was loved too.

come talk about coryo here!

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #married to young president snow #coriolanus x you #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #Spotify #milliesfishes coryo

353 notes · View notes

itsthestutterforme · 10 months ago

Text

Reacher’s Cranky Girl (Jack Reacher Drabble)

Summary: Reacher finds out that his best girl was having a bad day.

Warnings/Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, reader is black, sneakylink!Reacher, sneakylink!reader, sexual themes (fingering, oral sex, over stimulation, bondage, slapping), MINORS DNI

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.

You couldn’t fall asleep until two in the morning so you only had five hours of sleep. You stepped in dog shit on the way to your car so you had to go back into your house to change your shoes.

Only for one of the heels to get stuck in a grate and tear off the back so you just settled for some flats.

You spilled your iced coffee on your silk shirt. At least it wasn’t hot because that would have sent you into a different kind of rampage.

When you finally get to work, your boss chewed your ass out because the printer froze in the middle of printing the investment proposal.

An investment proposal he needed for the board meeting this morning, which meant he either had to push the meeting to this afternoon or had to share the proposal digitally.

At this point, you were counting down the days so you can go home and spend the rest of the day rotting in your bed.

“Maybe I can call Reacher over here to help cheer you up,” your sister suggests, sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

“I’m not in the mood for teasing, Y/S/N.” “I’m not teasing you. I’m just saying that-“

“Not even Reacher can bring me out of this, okay? I just want to go home.”

“Y/N,” “I said leave it, Y/S/N.” You grumbled, shifting your attention back to computer.

“Okay, fine.” She says with full intention of calling Reacher anyway.

Your sister walks past the boss who was on the way to your office. He pops his head in the say, “Y/N, I need the updated spreadsheet ASAP.”

“On it,” “You’re still running point on the presentation, right?”

I thought you said I was incompetent.

“Sure thing. Did the board decide on a time tomorrow?” “Eight a.m.,”

“In that case, I’ll be in at seven thirty to prep.” He nods and gives a soft knock on the door before leaving.

Y/S/N closes the door of her office to call Reacher. He gave her his number when he found out the two of you were going to a concert in Philadelphia.

He knew you were the confrontational type and wouldn’t call anyone if you found yourself in trouble.

He wanted the er on the side of caution so he trusted your sister to let him know if anything happens.

Reacher was your sneaky link that wasn’t really that sneaky. He wasn’t easy to miss. He would walk into your place, fuck your face into the pillows, order the two of you some food, fuck your face into the pillows again then leave in the morning.

“Reacher,” he answers. “Hey, Reacher. It’s Y/S/N.”

“Is everything okay?” “Yeah, everything is fine. Um, when are you hanging out with Y/N next?”

“We didn’t really decide on a day this week,” Reacher states, unsure of where this conversation was going.

“Y/S/N, I’m sure you’re a great woman but I only have a thing for your sister and I’m a loyal man so..”

“Wow, that was not on my bingo card. I’m not trying to hit on you, Reacher. I’m asking if you can pick up Y/N from work today. She’s having a rough time.”

“Oh.. how rough are we talking?” “Like she’s about to bite the boss’ head off,”

“Okay, I’ll be there. What should I bring her?” “I trust your judgment, Reacher.”

With that, Y/S/N hung up and sat down at her desk leaving Reacher dumbfounded in Finlay’s living room while Neagley and David played video games.

“What’s with the face?” Finlay asks, handing him a beer. “What should I get a woman when she’s having a bad day?” Reacher asks everything in the room.

Neagley pauses the game and everyone slowly turning to Reacher who opened Google to find out the answer to his question.

He noticed the silence and looked up from his phone to meet their shocked expressions.

“What?” “You have a girlfriend*?” David questions.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he grumbles. “Then why do you care if she’s upset?” David retorts.

“Because it’s a nice thing to do for someone,” “Right, says the guy who breaks peoples faces for a living.” He presses the resume button on game.

As soon as the clock hit 5 o’clock, you gathered your things and sped walked out of your office. You practically ran into the stairwell when you heard an office door open.

You didn’t have any more energy to give to that god forsaken company today. You rush down seven floors until you reached the front door, inhaling deeply when the fresh spring air filled your lungs.

You heard someone to your right clearing their throat and immediately rolled your eyes. You were not in the mood to hear anyone’s cheesy pick up lines right now.

“Looks like someone’s cranky,” a familiar voice calls and you looked over to see Reacher leaning against his truck.

“Reacher?” You approached him with a confused expression. “Are you looking to invest something or..?” You trail off.

There was no way he was here for you, right?

“No. I’m not here to invest, peach.” He kicks off his car and closed the gap between you, towering over you in the process.

“Then why are you- I’m going to fucking kill her.” You seeth, turning to walk into the parking lot when Reacher stopped you.

“You want to know what sounds better than killing your sister?” he starts, slowly rubbing the sides of your arms.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his rough hands smoothed over your shoulders, humming in response.

“Some curry and sushi for dinner,”

That does sound really good.

“And my face between your thighs for dessert,”

God, that sounded even better.

“How does that sound, peach?” He questions as he continued rubbing your arms.

“Really good,”

“Good because Y/S/N already took your keys and drove your car home. Hop in.” Reacher suggests, opening the car door to hand you a Dunkin iced coffee.

“R-Reacher,” you groaned, twisting away from his eager tongue smoothing between your puffy folds.

He didn’t even wait until you were fully situated. Shutting the door, he took you in his arms and carried you into kitchen.

He set you on the counter and nudged you on your back. You gasped when he tore your pantyhose down your legs and lifted your skirt over your waist.

Pulling your panties to the side, he licks between your folds spearing your tight hole with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my God,”

Shaking his head, he buries his face deeper in between your legs. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucked harshly on your sensitive nub.

He gathered your slick on his finger tips and sank two fingers into you, expertly thrusting upwards into your gspot causing your body to twitch.

He made it his mission to make you cum quick and hard.

“Mm, fuck.” You rolled your hips to match the thrusts of his fingers when he kitten licks your clit, sending you over the edge.

“I-I, fuck. I’m cumming, Reacher.” “Let it go, peach. Let me taste you.”

Your legs close around his head when your body trembles under the intensity of your orgasm.

A satisfied sigh left your lips when you came down from your high, your limp body was sprawled out on the counter.

He doesn’t slow his fingers and you could feel another orgasm building in your belly. He draws figure eights on your clit with his tongue, causing you to whine.

“Wait, I-“ you push his head away and tried to slide away from him but he pushed against your hand.

“Reacher,” you whimper, twisting your body away and covering your cunt so he would stop long enough for you to breathe.

“Move your hand. I’m not done yet.”

“I need a break,” you breathed out. “Move. Your. Hand. I’m not going to say it again.”

You don’t move fast enough for him and he threw you over your shoulder, smacking your ass hard as punishment. He didn’t care that you yelped out at the sharp sting.

Dropping you on the bed, he stripped down to his boxers.

“Strip,” he commands and you pulled off your clothes in record time.

You pressed your legs together when he approaches the bed when he pulls you closer by your ankles and flipped you on your stomach.

He placed a hand in between your shoulder blades to keep you in place. He straddled your legs and pulled your arms outstretched before tying your hands to the bed post with his belt.

Oh, you were in some deep shit now.

Moaning when you feel his hard cock against your ass cheek, he took your face into his hand and made you look straight back at him.

“You misunderstand, peach. The dinner was for you. The dessert was for me. I’m not going to stop until you’re crying and brainless.”

#black!reader #jack reacher x black!reader #jack reacher x reader #alan richardson

699 notes · View notes

miupow · 1 year ago

Text

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ study night .ᐟ c.sb ⊹˚. ♡

╰┈➤ soobin just wants to know what you're reading, is all.

pairing. choi soobin x fem!reader rating. NSFW, MDNI! words. 3.8k warnings. soft dom!soobin, erotic literature, praise kink, degrading, spanking, sunoo from enhypen cameo! vaginal fingering, soobin cums in his pants lol

thank you to @mapofthemazeinthemirror for helping me recover my first fic

“what are you reading?” soobin asked from across your dorm bedroom, sprawled out over a beanbag. he hadn’t looked up from the laptop in his lap for nearly two hours, too invested in his chemistry essay, and you were surprised to glance up and see him peering at you from over his screen. you could see him squinting his eyes to read the cover of the book you were holding, blind as a bat even with his thick rimmed glasses on— you giggled, shook your head and turned the page. you had caught up on assignments far quicker than soobin had, so you had decided to quietly read one of your favorite novels while he finished.

you and soobin had study nights every thursday after classes; a couple of hours for the two of you to help each other with assignments and throw pencils at each other. these nights had been routine since you and soobin met freshman year— you needed help in calculus, and he relied on you entirely to keep his literature grade above a D. plus, you were both quiet and shy, and it was just easier for the two of you to study with each other. soobin stayed in his corner, on your roommate sunoo’s beanbag, you stayed sitting cross-legged on your bed, and you worked in comfortable silence unless either of you needed help. you really enjoyed thursday nights; if only sunoo would stop making such a fuss about leaving for a few hours…

“...yn?” soobin prodded again, head tilted like a confused puppy. you had looked up from your novel but hadn’t said anything, lost in thought— your head had been all over the place since your argument with sunoo right before he left. you wondered briefly if soobin had noticed.

“oh! sorry— i’m reading, um…” you looked down at the open pages of your novel, and it struck you then, far too late, just what exactly you were reading. you shut the book quickly, ears red, “you wouldn’t like it.”

“why wouldn’t i like it?” soobin asked around a mouthful of chips.

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “‘cause.”

soobin gave you a funny look, turned his head back to his essay, and then turned back to give you another, funnier look.

“what’s it about?”

“don’t worry about it.” you replied far too quickly, sounding guilty as hell. you gingerly placed the book on your nightstand, cover down— soobin blinked at you a couple of times, big brown eyes magnified behind his glasses, and then blinked a couple of times at the book on the nightstand. you really didn’t like the look on his face.

“don’t you do it!” you warned, not sounding very threatening at all, and soobin gave you an absolutely evil grin.

soobin leapt from the beanbag in a flash, laptop tumbling to the floor— you shrieked at the top of your lungs, lunging across the bed to grab the book before he did, but soobin’s arms were just so long. he snatched the book with ease, cackling like a fiend as you jumped from the bed to grab it from him— he held the novel above his head with one long arm, the other trying to keep you from climbing him like a tree.

“soobin! stop it! let me have it! i’m serious! quit it!” you begged, embarrassed nearly to the point of tears as you hopped up and down in an attempt to grab the book from soobin.

“i just wanna read it! lemme see!”

six and a half feet up in the air, way above your head and much to your horror, soobin open your book to the bookmarked page and started reading aloud. you smacked him square in the chest, but neither his breath or his smile faltered— god, this man was huge, and it infuriated you. “i followed my boss to his office, watching in bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk to sit down at his chair. i had made three typing errors on one of his letters, clutched tight in my hand, and my boss seemed madder about it than usual. “put that—“

“stop!” you whined, hitting him across the chest again. you had given up trying to jump for the book. “it’s just a book, it’s not that—“

“if it was just a book you wouldn’t be freaking the fuck out right now,” soobin giggled maniacally. his glasses were slipping down his nose, mostly because you were hitting him, so he leaned his head farther back to read. you briefly considered pulling at his hair, but that felt too cruel. “put the letter on my desk” my boss said.” soobin began again, turning becaus you had started clawing at his neck and arms. “so i did—“

“give me back my book!”

“so i did.” soobin continued, that time not even sparing you a glance. he had started using a stupid little voice for the when the boss spoke, which would have been funny if you weren’t so mortified. “now bend over with your elbows on my desk so that you are looking directly at the letter. keep your face very close.”

“stop it, i mean it!” if he continued reading any further… you felt like crawling into a ditch and dying.

“if you said it’s just a book i wanna read it!” soobin retorted, evil little smile still plastered on his face. he gave you a sweet, sweet evil smile before turning back to the pages, unfazed by your teary eyes and red cheeks. “i was puzzled, but followed instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. my nose was merely a centimeter or two from the letter, which made it hard to read. my skirt was starting to.. to slide up the backs of my thighs, but i was sure if i moved to tug it back down i would just get in more trouble.”

you grimaced when soobin’s voice broke, smile starting to slide off of his face. “now read the letter to yourself. read it over and over again.” my boss said. i read: “dear mr garvy, i am very grateful to you for referring…” at the word “referring”, he— he.. um. oh.”

you started to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. soobin stared hard at the pages for a few seconds, ears turning cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute humiliation, he actually began to read aloud again. his voice had dropped that cheerful quality, though, winded like had been hit upside the head. “at the word “referring”, which i had mispelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. i stopped reading with a loud gasp, shocked— the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and in spite of my embarrassment i began to soak through my panties. at my silence, i was spanked again, even harder. “i said read it,” my boss reminded me, “be a good girl and follow instructions.”

lowering the book, soobin looked down at you with a very red face and an unreadable expression. “you… you actually read this stuff?”

you quickly grabbed the novel from him before haphazardly placing it on your nightstand. “it’s none of your business.” you snip.

“i mean— i didn’t— i didn’t think you liked that kind of stuff.” soobin admitted rather quietly, watching with wide eyes as you angrily collected your scattered study supplies. you dropped your papers into random folders and notebooks before shoving them along with your laptop into your bag— it was a disorganized mess now, but you’d just fix it later. you were too worked up to take your time.

“so? what, do you think i’m gross now?” you snapped back, embarrassment falling away to irritation. “i told you you didn’t want to read it. just drop it already!”

“i don’t think you’re gross!” soobin defended rather quickly, to which you raised an eyebrow. “i mean— i don’t care, it’s whatever. i’m just, like… i don’t know, it’s not a big deal.”

“so drop it.”

soobin sighed, moving slowly to go sit back in sunoo’s beanbag. “okay, fine, i’m dropping it, it’s dropped. i’m sorry, okay?”

you just rolled your eyes. after getting over the initial embarrassment and irritation of the situation, you were ready to just move on with the night. “whatever. are you almost done with that stupid essay? i want takeout.”

you hadn’t seen soobin in six days. normally that wouldn’t bother you— you had lives— but your next study night was quickly approaching, and you were growing more and more worried soobin wouldn’t show. maybe you should call him, just to apologize…

“maybe he’s just being a prude,” sunoo had supplied helpfully, biting into his sandwich. he had offered you half, as he always did when you had lunch together, but you had turned him down. the idea of eating made your stomach turn. “he probably thinks you’re mad at him and you’re gonna spank him for it.”

you huffed at your roommates giggling, drumming your fingers against the cafe table. “he knows me better than that. i feel like he’s the one mad at me.”

“what would he be mad at you for? being horny?” sunoo snickered.

“i don’t know… what if he doesn’t want to spend thursdays with me anymore?”

“soobin? stop going to your little dates? doubt it.”

“they’re not dates.” you snapped, voice raised just slightly— you were tired of having this argument with sunoo every time you talked to him about soobin. “we’re just hanging out and studying. he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“oh, so you like him like that then?”

“no! ugh, sunoo, just— whatever! you’re not helping.” you glared angrily down at your iced coffee. you loved sunoo to death, really, but sometimes you just couldn’t stand him— no matter how many times you told him you and soobin were just friends, he would never believe you.

sunoo giggled again, clearly enjoying your mounting irritation. “okay, okay, i’m sorry. if you’re that worried about it, you could just go and apologize to him yourself.”

that was the first actual advice sunoo had given in a while. “i don’t even know where he is, though.”

“oh, that’s easy.” sunoo supplied happily. “he’s in his dorm playing video games with his friends. he plays with heeseung-hyung a lot, and that’s what he’s doing right now, so—“

“thank you, sunoo! you know i love you,” you jumped out of your chair to give him a chaste peck on the cheek before gathering up your things and dashing out of the cafe in the direction of soobin’s dorm. you hadn’t even given sunoo the time to finish his sentence.

“hey, wait, don’t forget your coffee!—“

you didn’t give yourself time to think about knocking on soobin’s door, because you knew if you gave yourself the chance to run away you would take it. he opened the door within seconds— scaring the shit out of you, honestly— messy bed hair and thick glasses framing eyes that looked like a cornered deer. “oh! uh, hey, yn, um—“

“i’m sorry!” you squeaked, cutting him off. you needed to get this out as fast as possible so you could just move on with your life. “i’m sorry i got mad at you last thursday! over the book.“

soobin blinked. “oh. um. alright.”

you both shared a very long, awkward look.

“alright?!” you echoed, growing more irritated by the second. “you’ve been ignoring me for days and all you have to say it alright?!”

soobin’s eyes flickered around anxiously, and it suddenly hit you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. “i’m not ignoring you—“

“bullshit!” you shrieked. this really wasn’t how you were planning on his apology to go. you opened your mouth to continue, face red with anger, but soobin quickly grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you into his dorm. you were shocked into silence, eyes wide and mouth agape as he dragged you all the way back to his bedroom.

“where’s beomgyu?” you asked anxiously, desperate to deflate the tension. the lack of soobin’s roommate screaming at his tv as he played video games only fueled the anxious pit in your stomach— it was never quiet in this dorm.

“he’s with his girlfriend— does it matter? we need to talk.” soobin let go of your wrist to close his bedroom door, giving you the space you needed to remind yourself that this was just soobin, who ate gummy bears two at a time so they wouldn’t die alone. there was really no reason to feel so jittery… right?

“talk about what?” you ask, attitude back now that you’ve calmed yourself down. soobin was still staring very intently at his doorknob, back turned to you. “why you’ve been avoiding me all week? listen, it’s okay if that book wasn’t up your alley. there’s nothing wrong with being vanilla— there really isn’t any need to get all weird about it. i’m not gonna, like, spank you or anything. we don’t have to talk about it ever again, if you don’t want to, just pretend it didn’t happen—“

“it’s because i want to spank you!” soobin interjected very suddenly, spinning to look at you with wild eyes. his face was bright red.

“you… what?” you must’ve misheard him. that was the only explanation, surely; there was no way he—

“i can’t stop thinking about it! i thought there was no way you’d be into that stuff, there was no way, but you go and pull this crazy shit and now i can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! it’s driving me insane! i can’t even look at you!”

you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of water— this was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your friend’s mouth. your eyes were wide, your face burned… your pussy clenched pathetically. it came crashing down on you all at once, then, just how horribly you were lying when you said you didn’t have feelings for soobin. you truly never believed he liked you back, however, sure he was too busy playing video games and trying his best to pass his classes. it was like a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazen— if you wanted soobin, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

“then do it.” you said, voice barely above a whisper. soobin looked just as shocked as you were. “if you want to do it that bad, do it.”

soobin moved in a flash, giving you no time to prepare— within seconds you were thrown over his lap, hair hanging in your face as you stared wildly at the carpet. soobin brushed one of his hands against your skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasped all the same. “do you really want this?” soobin asked, voice low, breathing hard— the outline of his hard cock pressed against your stomach, making it considerably hard to focus, but you still managed to choke out a “yes please.”

soobin stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the skirt up to expose your ass. “so pretty..” soobin breathed. you felt his cock twitch against your stomach, those long fingers coming back to trace along the edge of your lacy thong. “is it okay if i take your panties off, bunny?”

you whimpered, nodding your head— soobin landed a gentle slap to the junction of your thigh with a chuckle. “use your words like a good girl.”

this couldn’t actually be happening. you had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something— silly goofy soobin, your friend who cried watching toy story, was just way too good at this, making your legs shake and your pussy throb while hardly touching you. in an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that soobin had to be the worlds biggest virgin to thinking that soobin is the world’s hottest dominant.

you weren’t sure how to feel about it, honestly, but your cunt sure did.

you must’ve stayed silent for too long, because without much warning soobin landed a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. “bad girl! c’mon baby, use your big girl words. tell me how much you want it.” soobin goaded, hot breath fanning your ear— you couldn’t hold in your moan, sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears.

“p-please… please take my panties off. please spank me.” you whined, face beet red and pussy drooling, making a noticeable wet spot in your pretty little panties— soobin’s deft finger stroked slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through. you wanted to scream.

“that’s my good bunny,” you could hear your panties rip as soobin tore them off of you in one fluid motion, cold air meeting your soaked cunt and making you— and soobin— hiss. it was still and silent for a few fleeting moments, soobin admiring the slick leaking down your thigh, before he straightened up and landed a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. it took everything in you to bite back a pathetic yelp.

“that’s for being a fucking tease,” soobin started, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “being so fucking hot all the time and convincing me you were out of my league.”

you hadn’t realized that this was confessional. giving soobin an evil smile over your shoulder, you smart, “you’re an idiot. i’ve wanted you forever.”

another spank, this time with even more force. your hips bucked with a shrill cry, eyes watering— you had no idea soobin was this strong. he refused to give you time to prepare. “didn’t say you could talk back.”

you’re on the verge of tears from the red hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at soobin’s words. “you’re kinky.”

soobin just rolls his eyes that time, spanking you again. “and this one’s for being a brat. how about you start counting for me, love— one.”

“one?! you’ve hit me four times!” maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back in some way. you relished losing.

soobin grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked hard, making you gasp loudly and your pussy clench painfully around nothing. leaning down close to your ear, soobin let out a warning growl— “i said fucking count.”

you swore you’ve never been this wet in your life. torn between bucking your hips into soobin’s bulge and pushing back onto his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of “one.”

the hand holding your hair lets go at once, letting your head fall limply over his knee. “that’s my girl.”

another spank. you moan. “two.”

“three.” you’re crying now. soobin’s hand lingers, fingers ghosting over your sticky folds… you shift your hips and open your thighs to give him access.

four never comes. soobin pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. he starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, fingertips searching for that spongy spot… you grind your hips back against soobin’s fingers, a drooling mess against his jeans. “bin…” you whined high in your throat— you needed more, you needed him to slow down, you needed him to go faster… you hadn’t been touched like this in ages.

soobin finds your g-spot with ease, and you have to cover your own mouth to keep yourself from screaming. “such a slut, falling apart just because of my fingers…” soobin chuckled huskily, enamored with the wet sounds your cunt made filling the room. “i’ve thought about this forever, god… you’re just as pretty as i thought you’d be.”

you open your mouth to respond, but a strangled moan comes out instead— soobin’s thumb, wet from your arousal, came down to rub tight, delicious circles on your clit, distracting you enough to push in a third finger into your stretched out hole. the stretch burned but you loved it, hips kicking and moans weak as soobin took you apart.

“...too much..” you manage to choke out, practically biting down on soobin’s thigh to keep from wailing in bliss. you felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his curled fingers— soobin just giggled meanly, fluttering a fourth thick finger around your stretched and soaked hole.

“oh, bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…”

tears streamed freely down your face, choked sobs wracking your poor little body, but god you were in heaven… you bucked your hips down against soobin’s own bulge, relishing in the sharp intakes of breath he would take every time— he was starting to fall apart too, sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy. “gonna… gonna make you cum on my fingers,” soobin whined low in his throat, hand completely soaked in your arousal. “you gonna make a mess for me?”

soobin’s fingers dug impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighther with each perfectly aimed thrust. you sobbed, hand reaching back to grab tight onto soobin’s shirt sleeve. “‘m gonna cum!”

soobin’s other hand, that had been stroking comfortingly up and down your back, reached down to pinch hard at you clit, making you scream— “gotta ask first, bad girl, gotta ask for permission b-before you cum…” soobin’s voice was starting to break, his hips stuttering helplessly— the feeling of his hard cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly.

“can i cum? please binnie, can i cum? i’ll be a good girl, i promise, just let me cum!” you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at all… all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way soobin’s fingers fucked your pussy so good… you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers.

“go on honey, my good girl, my bunny… cum all over me, make a mess.” with his permission you let yourself fall off the edge, moaning like a whore as you soaked your thighs, soobin’s hands and his jean-clad thigh. you laid across soobin’s lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, heaving breaths like you ran a marathon… you’d never come before like that in your life. soobin was with you the whole way, too— sweet as can be as he cooed praises into your hair, petting your back and kissing your head as you came down from your high. you kind of loved him, you realized with a sickening start.

you also realzied around the same time that you no longer felt soobin’s bulge poking at you. you released your iron grip on soobin’s sleeve to gently cup his very wet crotch. “bin…?”

“sorry, bunny… couldn’t help it…”

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt ff #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #soobin x reader #soobin smut #nightly.nsfw #nightly.soobie

527 notes · View notes

blueberrypancakesworld · 7 months ago

Text

Lies, truth and being back in Oldtown

Otto Hightower x wife!reader

warning : Otto slayed episode two (and I'm his biggest lover for it), fluff, kissing, little hurt/comfort, drinking alcohol, grandpa gets a time out with his wife, no use of Y/n, but they are THE player pair

Summary : The young prince's death a tragedy, Aemond's impulses devastating, Alicent's nocturnal activities sinful and in this mess of his own bloodline Otto is dismissed from the office of the Hand but with a personal victory and his supportive wife by his side…of course another dismissal screamed a couple of free time in Oldtown.

info : Otto was always good looking, he just got too good in the second episode and grandfather needs some time off. To be honest this is not my best worl I had an idea but my hands and mind were like ,,No we do it like this" and yeah it comes a little different. Happy reading and thanks for all the support.

masterlist

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

The fire was no longer burning in the fireplace, the night was over and the day had long since dawned, a day full of emotion and excitement after the events of the tragedy that had taken place.

Westeros had lost a prince, the heir to the throne of the young King Aegon who had invested so much in his son.

For the first time it was something that made him cheerful and happy, his wife the queen had found a grip on reality, the dowager queen had smiled again when she saw the little prince and his uncle was at least satisfied that his brother was doing well.

It was a brief period in which all seemed well and the hand and his wife had at least a moment's peace and quiet in front of the family who were getting on their last nerve.

But in the Hand's tower room, the couple who had spent the night with good conversation and a little wine were also slowly stirring, unaware that so much more would happen that day.

At least her husband's dark eyes were on her sleeping form, darting back and forth over the papers and writings he'd had to take care of in the early hours. Pleasant as you are my star, he thought as he looked from his sleeping wife to the empty wine bottle, thinking back to the evening he'd come back to late at night and to his chagrin had to take care of business that his grandson or daughter were unable to do due to the death of Prince Jaehaerys.

His own great-grandson the little prince was a child without a care but he didn't have much to do with him, he was a busy man and his wife had a much better hand in family matters.

Not that he didn't grieve, there were hours when he would throw himself into his work and his wife would hug him, sighs coming from his lips…but there was no time for real grief at a time like this.

One thing they both knew was that in the beginning it had been excellent at keeping Aegon in check, one thing they were both sure of, it was because of them that everything here was running smoothly, that the city had not yet ended in chaos. ,,You're pulling such a worried face again," he suddenly heard her voice and saw that she had woken up from her sleep and had put the blanket on her upper body as she sat on the bed and watched him go about his work.

A knowing smile came to his own lips as he grabbed the hand brooch and came over to her, the face of a woman his age smiled softly and slightly tiredly at him, light wispy hair hanging on her head and yet it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

She was his lady, the mother of his two children, the great grandmother of the royal family and the only thing the green ones had left as a loving heart.

A woman he had married out of duty and politics but a woman who showed him that knowledge wasn't everything, how important it was to get things with ties while behind her stood her own powerful house and she was so much better interpersonally that he saw she was a player of the game in her own right.

,,The prince's death and Aegon's escape are troubling, I can't do everything," he admitted and pulled up a chair to sit in front of her, his hands taking hers in his and stroking the small scar she had gotten from her grandson when Aegon had thrown glasses through the small council and injured her, causing the hand to make a loud word and the king to withdraw.

But she straightened up, still thinking about him, she pressed a light kiss on his lips and took the golden pin from his hand, ,,I take care of the family and you take care of politics… pieces are set you just have to lay them right" she reminded him of the words and saw a knowing smile on his own before he squeezed her hands one last time and disappeared from the room with his papers while his wife, his shadow, his back wheel, his teammate got ready to go see if she could do anything with her family.

No matter how this war started she knew that the royal family were a bunch of mismatched people her own family was completely dysfunctional which was not least her fault and the fault of the throne it could have been different but things had happened and you had to make the best of it.

Lying in bed for a moment the smell of Otto a mix of paper, leather and wine made her smile at the conversations they had had emotional, devoted but most of all they were conversations about the tension in the bridge it was as if something was going to blow up at any moment.

Because this wildfire several hundred years later was the loud talking and shouting that could be heard in the corridors of the halls. The green golden dress of the royal grandmother was still wet with tears a few hours ago when she went to her daughter, the widow queen burst into tears, confessed her sins and sought refuge in her arms before they prayed together, it seemed as if she had at least caught her daughter.

Getting close to her granddaughter Helaena was always a little more difficult but she talked to her and tried to convince her with insects and help her, which at least ended in a little play with Jaehaera and Helaena seemed to have at least some support.

Aemond, on the other hand, had disappeared and she suspected to find her grandson in the brothels she had heard about a long time ago. But now she ran faster and faster as she heard the screaming and cursed inwardly that she hadn't been the first to find Aegon.

She hadn't noticed anything from outside, she had just been with her family and god knows what had happened again. Rushing into the room, the open doors alone made her nervous and she was met with a scene of chaos.

,,What's going on here?" she asked as the guards hurried to close the door before she stood between her husband and grandson, knowing the stunned look in her husband's eyes and Aegon's who only seemed more stubborn.

A sigh crossed the eldest's lips as Aegon put his hands on his hips and smiled, ,,Grandmother, I did my wife a favor and with Lary's help let the ratcatchers down," as he admitted his actions that hit her like a wave of bad wine at the wrong time at the wrong moment.

Her look of utter bewilderment went to her husband who looked at her the same way and shook his head, ..Aegon you hanged all the ratcatchers?" the elder asked her grandson and put a hand on his shoulder which he pushed away after a moment when he realized she wasn't on his side and went to Criston who was still standing in one place.

,,I am the king, I have done right and avenged my son," he countered, making sweeping movements and defending himself, not realizing what he had done on a larger scale, ,,You idiot, you have enraged the people, the foundation, do you understand that?" Otto asked, ignoring the warning of Cole, who stood by the king and pointed his hand at his grandson.

In his emotional state, Aegon didn't quite seem to want to understand that he had avenged his son and that was what mattered, ,,So what? I am the king the crown sits on my head by my father" said the Targaryen and his grandmother hid her head in her hands for a moment as she gathered herself and Otto slowly placed her behind him.

It was done, Aegon in his grief not seeing what he had done, the players of the game of thrones were no longer in control of their own game and the king began to move himself.

It was an abyss that opened up and they realized that they could no longer get through to him, ,,Is that what you think?" was the last question Otto asked his grandson before this abyss became something unstoppable as he dismissed Otto from the office of the hand.

It had happened again her husband lost the office of the hand in a situation that couldn't have been more nerve-wracking and the family's upper management had to find themselves without a place in the castle and a few hours later in an empty room of the hand.

,,He's a fool," she murmured, stroking her temple to quell the pain that threatened to rise in her head as she felt his hand on her shoulder and he held her close, ,,He's a dog let off the leash," he added, and they both knew that once they left the castle, they would be "free," but their family would perish. It was a feeling that the whole board game would turn and the family could no longer be properly protected.

It was a decision they couldn't change, and the feeling of his kiss on the top of her head only slightly loosened the knot in her heart. ,,What will they do without us?" she spoke her thoughts, feeling the temptation he was pulling her into, but he had no answer either, an answer that did nothing to ease her pain and grief, even as they made their way back to Oldtown by coach and ship.

But as soon as they saw the great Old Town, the tower of her husband's house, the fire burning inside and were greeted by Otto's brother, the atmosphere seemed to have changed.

It was calmer, you were hardly tense and even if you were always surrounded by worry like a draft of air, it seemed as if you could think more clearly again without being surrounded by city walls.

A city with a tower, the main seat, and large rooms in which noble couples found themselves looking out onto the balcony over their homeland, their hands joined together and drinking goblets of wine, ,,As if the blessing of the seven would calm you down," Otto murmured, placing the goblet on the railing of the balcony and looking out over the city where he had grown up and where his children had spent years.

,,We needed this blessing," she admitted, stroking a strand of hair behind her ear that had been blown away by the wind. She could feel his bend and knew that he was upset at how much he had been going back and forth now that they no longer had direct access to decisions.

They really had to play the backseat family members and even Alicent didn't seem to have a breakthrough anymore. ,,Yes, a break, my dear, is probably what we need," he finally gave in anyway and pressed another kiss on her, which she returned briefly, however much she loved him Lust was not what she felt on this day, rather a need for something palpable to help her.

She let her gaze sweat until she looked up into the sky, the infinite cradle, and drank her cup with one last draught. ,,We may have lost turns, husband, but there is something we can use to protect what we have created," she reminded him and grabbed his hand, pointing to the sky and the two of them looked up at the dragon in the sky with their youngest grandson on it.

She saw the same knowing flash in his eyes as in hers before his hands wrapped around her body, it had been a long time since she had seen him so unsettled. He didn't show it often that he was worried, he probably hated himself at that moment but he had a drive a cunning in him that she knew together they would save her house from its own destruction they hadn't given up their places yet, ,,Together the chosen pieces move on to a new one my star and we will be victorious" he added with a slight smile.

The apprehension disappeared for a moment before he placed his hand on her cheek and pulled her into another kiss. In every game, you had to give yourself a time-out to hit even harder on the next play.

~~~~~~~~~~~

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

@xionthelostpuppet

#hotd #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon #hotd2 #otto hightower #hotd otto #otto hightower x reader #reader is female

181 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 10 months ago

Text

Little Girl Gone Part 5 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Soft Dom Officer Harrington/ Soft Dom Gangster Eddie & Sub Fem Doctor Y/N, SMUT, overstimulation, dp, light spanking, light choking, aftercare.

ANGST! Reader gets caught in a lie, someone threatens her relationship with Eddie, Reader gets punished for lying, mentions of exes, mentions of Eddie's dick dad, Cliffhanger ending! *evil laughs*

Word Count: 6385

Series here

Steve sighs from his desk at the precinct as he scans through boring paperwork. This is the part of the job he hates. It reminds him of being dragged to his father’s office to “see how the family business is run”. Even as a kid he knew the corporate world wasn’t for him. When he enrolled in the police academy, his mother cried and his dad raged, screaming about how he abandoned his responsibilities. He didn’t care though; he wanted to do something good, not just with his life but for the city around him.

He never expected to fall in love with a criminal nor did he indeed to. To him, Eddie was everything he wasn’t even though the gangster always commented about how similar they both were. After his breakup, Steve hardened his heart and became bitter as he focused solely on the job to avoid the pain he was in. In one 15min car ride, Eddie broke through that barrier and in that moment the officer knew he would do whatever he could to protect him.

His phone vibrated and he grinned when he saw the message was from you.

George Carver is investing in my clinic! Oh my God. I can’t believe he’s still willing.

I can finally get better supplies and give my staff the bonuses they deserve.

That’s amazing, sweetheart! You deserve it. :)

If you need anything else just let me know.

I’m so happy for you, honey. We should celebrate tonight!

I should be out of here on time.

“Steve, there’s a man in interrogation room B asking to speak with you.”

The officer nods towards his colleague, exhaling as he stands and heads that way. When he enters the room, his eyes rake over the seemingly agitated young man as he takes a seat across from him and opens the file that was given to him.

“Gabriel Wiley. I heard you wanted to speak with me.”

“Is that camera still broken? The few times I’ve been in here it was never fixed.”

“Why does it matter, Gabe? Something you don’t want my captain knowing?”

“No…it’s something YOU don’t want him knowing.”

That gets the officer’s attention as he shifts his gaze towards the man in front of him. He wasn’t like the usual people brought in or who came in with a tip that could help. Gabriel was well dressed from top to bottom in an expensive looking suit but seemed as if he had been pulling on it from stress as the tie was missing and the top few buttons were undone.

“I don’t have time for this so if we can get on with it—”

“I need Edward Munson to stay away from Y/N.”

Steve blinked in surprise as he folded his arms and leaned forward.

“How do you know Y/N?”

“Does THAT matter? She’s not safe with him and as his friend I would imagine you would want to keep the peace between everyone.”

“Are you threatening him?”, the officer growled.

“No… but the people I do business with could do some damage to them both and I don’t want that. You have three days, Mr. Harrington.”

As the man stood up, Steve flew from his chair, grabbing the man’s collar, and roughly pushing him against the wall.

“If you hurt either of them, I swear to God, they will never find your body.”

Gabriel nods as if accepting that this will be his fate as he pats the officer’s arms, signaling to let him go.

“Nothing will happen if she stays away from him.”

***

“Stevie, you’re finally here! I got champagne and Y/N put some food in the oven so oddly enough you’re right on time—”

“Do you know this man?”, he interrupts as Steve shoves his phone screen in your face.

“What? No. Why?”

“What about you, Ed?”

Eddie takes the phone and gives it a good once over.

“I’ve never met him but other gangs in town hire low level people all the time. Garth and Jeff know better than to do that on my side. I don’t like having people I don’t know in my organization. Why, babe? What happened?”

The officer sighs as he throws a file on the counter that his boyfriend opens and sifts through.

“Gabriel Wiley came in today asking for me by name and said that you needed to leave Y/N. We had three days or else ‘things would happen’.”

“What THINGS?”, the gangster grumbled low in anger.

“I don’t know. We need to find out who he is working for. It looks like he’s done some petty crimes…did about 6 months in Hawkins Pen…”

“Maybe I should talk to him…since it seems to involve me and he doesn’t want me with you.”

“That may be exactly what he wants. No, Y/N, just stay with me for the time being, ok?”, Eddie practically pleads as you nod.

The three of you try to still celebrate the evening with both men drinking way more alcohol than they should. You knew better, pretending to sip more than you actually were. After they passed out, you slithered out of their hold to scan the file Steve had brought home with him.

Gabriel had been arrested numerous times like the officer mentioned for things like disorderly conduct and theft. He spent 6 months in jail for robbing a store in Eddie’s territory but since then he hasn’t seemingly been in any trouble.

Grabbing your bag, you slipped out of the loft, down the back stairs, and headed for your car.

###############

Gabriel answered the door when you knocked in just his sweats and a shocked expression.

“Y/N, what are you—”

“What are YOU doing, Gabe?”, you asked in annoyance as you pushed past him into his home. “Why are you going to police stations to threaten the life of a gangster?”

“Why are you dating one?!”

“That’s none of your concern! You’re the one who refused to get your life together!”

“Oh, so you upped your game from blue collar criminals to full on murderers?”, he asked as he leaned against the back of his couch.

“Fuck you! I’m finally happy and with someone who cares about me—”

“And I didn’t?!”

You both heavily sigh as you place your hands on your hips.

“Why did you threaten me and Eddie to Steve today?”

“I didn’t threaten you. Someone is upset that you’re with him—”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m not even supposed to be talking to you or that cop but… Y/N, I loved you. I never stopped. Even after I went in and you dumped my ass. I told myself when I got out I would grovel at your feet but then things happened…I needed to keep you safe.” His eyes meet yours with sympathy for a moment before they flood with anger. “You need to leave and you need to leave Edward Munson, Y/N, or else.”, he growled as he grabbed your arm and started pushing you towards the front door.

As he swings it open, he gasps as he comes face to face with the gangster himself.

“You know, I had a feeling you were lying when you said you didn’t know him but I’m kind of disappointed that you thought we were stupid enough to fall for the ‘feed them alcohol till they pass out’ trick.” Eddie’s tone seemed calm but even you could tell he was furious.

While you both backed away from him and he slammed the door shut, you backed into a broad chest that genuinely startled you.

“Or else what, Gabe?”, Steve asked as he continued to step forward making the other boy stumble to the side as he backed you into the gangster, his eyes never leaving yours. “She needs to leave Eddie or what?”

“This is…I told you to…to talk to them. This is a bad idea, Steven.”, Gabriel huffed in what sounded like fear.

“You lied to us. Why?” When your jaw clenched in defiance, his fingers pinched your cheeks. As the other man moved to defend you, Eddie pushed him to the ground and placed his boot on his chest. “From what I heard, he sounds like an ex, is that right?”

“Yes.”, you spat.

“Why did you lie?” When you didn’t respond, he backed you into the wall and hovered his face in front of yours. “You are in a lot of trouble so I would skip the theatrics and come clean now. Why did you lie?”

When you push at his chest, his hand comes back around to grab your bicep and pushes you a bit roughly onto the couch. Helplessly you watch as both men grab your ex and throw him on the carpet in front of you as Eddie punches him hard in the face.

“You said someone didn’t like that they were together. Why?”

“Go ahead and kill me. If I tell you everything, I’m dead anyway.”

The gangster hits him again as Steve grabs a chair from the kitchen and places it in front of you as he straddles the back.

“Why did you two break up? I heard him say you left him. Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does because we asked. Now I’m starting to get annoyed with having to repeat myself so this is the last time I’m going to ask. Why did you two break up?”

“If you hurt him anymore I’ll leave you both, Steve.”

“B-Both? You’re with both of them?”, Gabe asked in surprise as his head fell back against the floor and he chuckled. “Jesus, this is way worse than I thought. Are you fucking him to?”, he asked Eddie whose eyes darkened at the man’s tone. “Just fucking kill me, Munson. I barely have it in me to kill the woman I love let alone a fucking cop.”

“Gabriel, what are you talking about? Did Jason Carver send you?”, Eddie asked as the man continued to smile before sighing. “Hey! Focus! Who do you work for?”

“Hawkins Penitentiary. Three years ago. Cell block G.”

The gangster’s eyes swiftly met his partner’s as he releases his hold on your ex. Promptly rising to his feet, he flies out the door with Steve following hastily after.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Leaving the man on the floor, you run after them finding them arguing back and forth as the officer tries to stop Eddie from getting behind the wheel.

“NO! You can’t confront him right now!”

“Steve, this is completely different then the Jason thing. I need to know why. Keep an eye on her and don’t let her leave my place. I don’t care what excuse she gives you. We’ll deal with her when I get back.”

Pausing for a moment, Eddie turns to give his boyfriend a passionate kiss before getting into his car and speeding away.

###############

Steve paces as he waits for his partner to come back. It had been over two hours since Eddie left and the officer was getting restless.

“Steve—”

“Don’t talk. I don’t want to hear it.”

Thirty minutes later the door to the apartment opens as the gangster strides in with heavy shoulders as he sighs.

“Are you ok, honey?”, the man asks as he cups his face in his hands.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I straighten everything out but…”

“Is Gabe going to be ok?” Their eyes shift your way as you rise to your feet and place yourself in front of him. “Eddie…”

“I made a deal to keep you both, well Y/N, safe. I told his employer I’d dispose of him myself.”, he relayed in a calm demeanor as his chocolate hues never left your face. A heavy exhale left your lips as the tears began to flow.

“Please tell me you didn’t…”

“I didn’t. I gave him some money and one of my guys is taking him to the next state over so he can get on a plane to leave the country. He fucked up but I guess we were lucky he was fucking in love with you.” Glancing towards Steve, he continued to relay information. “He was supposed to kill her to get back at me for ‘ruining his business’. Asshole is super fucking petty; always has been. Seems he doesn’t know about you. I’m surprised Jason hasn’t told him.”

“Who was he working for?”

Both men glared your way before the officer produced his handcuffs flashing them in your direction.

“Are you going to answer our questions or are we doing this hard way?”

Fear dances through your eyes before they harden and glare right back.

“You said you would never use those tactics on me. That you would never hurt me.”

“That’s correct.”

Steve lunges forward taking ahold of your arm, clinging to you tightly as you wrestle against him. Eddie drags a chair to the living room where you are placed and restrained as you begin to cry tears of frustration.

“You can say ‘red’, Y/N, and we would stop right now. We meant what we said…we would never hurt you or use those methods to get you to talk but we know other ways.”, the gangster explained as he placed himself on his knees in front of you.

They both waited for you to use the safe word, minutes passing as his eyes scanned your face. After a while, he nodded towards the officer behind you and you listened as he rummaged around the area behind you while Eddie cupped your face in his hands to try your tears.

“Am I allowed to be rough to?”

The gangster couldn’t help but chuckle as his fingers began unbuckling your jeans so he could pull them down.

“You kind of are already by making this harder than it has to be. I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell us the truth. But sure, sweetheart, give us what you got.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Or what, little girl? What are you gonna do?”

“What is it with you and chairs? Why do you always try and intimidate people in one? Is it so you can feel bigger than them?”

“We can move you to the railing if you’d like so you can stand.” After he nods again behind you, you wait as you feel Steve begin to uncuff you.

“5 bucks, Munson.”

“You’re on.”

You had no idea what they were talking about but as soon as you were free your foot pushed against Eddie’s chest as you bolted for the stairs. Your plan was to gain the upper hand in his bedroom with your back to a wall but you should have known better. Steve did this for a living.

You barely made it two steps before his arms were wrapping around you and pinning you to the floor. As he straddled your waist, he held your wrists down as you tried to wrestle back against his hold.

“Told you.”, he sang.

“I didn’t think she’d actually try and run. Fight back maybe but.”, Eddie laughed as he replaced his boyfriend’s grasp on your arms and dragged you the rest of the way towards the stairs. “Always surprising me, princess.”

Steve restrained you again to one of the rails behind you with your limbs above your head. You continued to try and kick him with your legs but when his hand came down hard on your behind you stopped. Almost too delicately, he removed your panties and you watched as he opened a decorative box, pulling out a new pair. Sliding them up your body, you shivered as the pads of his fingers traced your skin.

You knew immediately something was off as the crotch area of the lace felt a bit heavier than a normal pair of underwear.

“I actually bought this for you a while ago and saved it thinking it would be a fun anniversary present or just something to utilize as you walk around the loft.”, Eddie grins in amusement as he takes a seat in the chair you were previously in. “Now, let’s try this again, Y/N. Why did the two of you break up? He seems to still be in love with you so I imagine you did the dumping.”

Your jaw clenches as you turn your head away from them. Both men sigh as something beeps and the panties you were wearing come to life. As the little vibrations play with your clit, you glare their way again.

“Fuck you.”

“This thing is pretty nifty. I spent a good chunk of cash on it so I’m hoping it makes you feel really good, baby. See, we have this remote here that controls the setting and it can vibrate at 4 different levels. The one you’re feeling right now is that first one.”

Your eye lids flutter at his admission as your defiant features falter slightly. If this was the lowest setting, you were in trouble.

Locking his intense eyes with yours, he presses the next setting.

“Fuck.”

You expect them to throw more questions your way but they remain silent as they watch you get slowly built up before your first orgasm washes over you.

“Why did you two break up?”

As you shake your head, Eddie bumps it up to the next level making you whine. By your fourth orgasm, you were a mess, your legs weakly thrashing about as you tugged on the cuffs around your wrists.

“I’m losing my patience, Y/N, especially since this is the easiest question to answer out of all the ones we have. WHY did you two break up?” Growling in annoyance Eddie began to reach for the next setting before you cut him off.

“NO! No, please. He went to jail. He went to jail.”, you cried as you felt the build up again.

“For robbing a store?”, Steve asked and you nodded.

“What? Couldn’t wait 6 months? Doesn’t really give me hope if I go in.”, the gangster replied sarcastically making you angry.

“It wasn’t his first offence. He had been getting in trouble off and on for years. I warned him! I told him if he got in trouble again I’d leave.”

“For years, huh. How long were you together?” They watched as your head hung as the coil snapped again. “You know what, Ed, I’m kind of hungry. Why don’t we go to kitchen downstairs and come back in about an hour—”

“2 years.”, you cried. “We were friends in college before we-we started dating.”

“Color, Y/N?”

They marveled at your defiance even in your current state as you spit in their direction.

“Green, sir!”

Stomping your way and tired of your attitude, Eddie beckons Steve to release you and as soon as he does you fall into his arms, clinging to his neck as another orgasm ripples through your body.

“Why didn’t you tell us you knew him?”

“Please, Eddie—”

Moving part of the now damp silk out of the way, he slide two of his fingers into your core and pumped them at a fast pace overwhelming your senses as you circled your arms tighter around him.

“He said he still loved you. Do you still love him?”, Steve asked sternly as he kneeled beside you both.

“NO! H-H-How could you ask me that?! After everything I’ve done for you!”

“Then why did you lie?!”

“I didn’t want you to hurt him!”, you shouted as you trembled against him, soaking his fingers.

You feel Eddie move around as you continue to cling to him before the vibration between your legs abruptly stops. Laying your head against his chest, you listen to his heartbeat and use it as an anchor to slow your breathing.

“He worked for my father.” Leaning back, your eyes widen at the gangster’s admission.

“That’s most likely why he never came back to ‘grovel at your feet’.”, Steve added.

“I don’t understand. He only did…little things like…stealing cars and—”

“That’s how my dad started.”, Eddie sighed. “Why do you think he’s so fucking sloppy? Even Gabe was sloppy. Fucking walking straight into a police station to threaten me to a cop? Friend or not that’s a bad idea, not just for himself but for Steve. Probably why my dad’s been using him for small favors. They met during those 6 months, Y/N. He was in a different part of the prison but Allen made a deal with some of the guards to have him moved. He had originally intended to punish him for breaking into a store in ‘his’ territory. He likes to pretend it’s still his in there.”

“As a trade so to speak, instead of killing him they used him to do things on the outside. I wouldn’t know about it because I don’t care about petty crimes like robbery especially since no one got hurt. For things like that, I let Steve do his job.”

“Why…why would your dad want me dead?”

He smirks to himself as he answers.

“Because I’m happy. You see, sweetheart, it REALLY pisses him off that not only am I in charge but I’m a way better leader than he ever was and he knows that. If he had known about Steve, he probably would have sent someone a long time ago. Hopefully not the same guy because as you saw…he couldn’t do it.”

“And he’s not going to kill Eddie because too many people would turn on him including his uncle. Wayne’s not a violent man but he’d kill anyone who hurt his nephew.”

“When I went down there I didn’t tell him Gabriel was your ex but he already knew. Said that the asshole didn’t stop talking about you to grunts that were loyal to my dad. Fucking idiot…”

“Especially for a man preaching that he wanted to keep you safe.”, Steve murmured.

“Which is probably another reason he made a deal with me to kill him. A ‘your life for his’ trade so to speak. Y/N, I need you to understand that it took EVERY ounce of energy for me not to follow through.”

“Why didn’t you?”, you whisper. “Especially since you think I still love him.”

Their jaws clenched at your accusation as Eddie heavily exhaled.

“I told you, little girl. I don’t enjoy killing people. If I don’t have to then I don’t.”

“Yet you wanted to?”

“Of course, I did. He could have gotten you both killed. Gabriel put you in danger and put Steve at risk. In this business, babe, sloppiness like that either puts you in jail like Allen or gets you killed and if I decided to kill him I would still have been able to sleep at night.”

It was your turn for your face to harden once more as you pushed yourself out of their embrace and utilized the rail to get to your wobbly feet.

“Now who’s lying? Do you think I’m stupid? Yeah, maybe, that’s part of the reason you wanted to kill him but I know you, Eddie. I also heard you on that first night. ‘No one touches what’s mine.’ It fucking kills you that he still loves me, doesn’t it? If you could remove the ‘competition’ you would.”

Getting to his feet as well, the gangster stalks towards your pants and panties, tossing them roughly at your chest.

“You want to fucking leave and go be with that asshole? Have at it. Hell, I’ll even drop you off myself. We can take Steve’s cruiser that way we can get you there faster and away from us.”

“What about you, Steven? Could you have killed him out of jealousy?”

“In a heartbeat.” You blinked, taken aback by his answer. “I heard him yell at you saying that you ‘upped your game’ or some bullshit to a gangster but do you know the real reason you stay even though Eddie and I do way worse? Because we fucking care. For three years, Y/N, he’s been doing whatever Allen told him without question yet he supposedly loved you but when you begged him to stop doing what he was doing he didn’t. When he got out, he could have done the same thing Munson just did for him and ran away with you but he didn’t.”

“He didn’t give a fuck about you. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s true. We…” Steve gestures between him and Eddie. “…we do. We could have killed Gabriel. He could have brought him back here and we could have fucking tortured the hell out of him for threatening you but we didn’t because it would have hurt you. You asked us not to so we didn’t.”

“You’re right, Y/N. Like Steve, you are mine and no one hurts or touches what’s mine but that doesn’t mean Iwant to be the one to hurt you. I’m not vindictive like Allen and you’re not my possession. You’re my partner.”

“OUR partner.”

“Now, little girl, you want me to be honest? Here it is. Yes, the thought crossed my mind of following through and killing him especially when I think about him saying he still loves you. When he had his hands on you when he opened the door… He had the audacity to touch you… Fuck, I wanted to break his legs and tear him in half. Steve could have helped hide his body and then remove any evidence that he had any contact with us. I pictured it over and over on the drive back here…but I didn’t…because I love you.”

When your gaze shifted towards Steve, the officer shrugged as he nodded.

“I loved you since the first sassy thing came out of your mouth. I fell in love with you that night after Andrew. You let me take care of you, fell asleep in my arms, and I knew then I didn’t want to let you go.”

“If…If I asked you to give up this life…and run away somewhere with me…would you?”, you ask in a small tone as your head slightly hangs.

You’ve done this dance before and the answer killed you.

“You robbed a fucking liquor store? Why?! What did you need so badly that—”

“Y/N! I don’t have time for this! You’re my one phone call. Now I need you to come bail me out and—”

“With what money, Gabe?! You promised me. You promised me you would shape up and stop doing shit like this!”

“With what money, babe?”, he replies sarcastically. “You think college is fucking cheap? You think a house, marriage, and all that comes free?!”

“Well thankfully none of that is your concern anymore!”

“What?”

“I’m done…”

Gabriel releases a breathy sigh before responding again.

“Y/N, baby, please… I can do better. I’ll be more careful and—”

“Of course.”

Your head shoots up at Eddie’s answer as Steve nods as well.

“I’d never ask you to do that… I know people depend on you here.”

“I know, sweetheart.”, the gangster whispered.

“So, what’s the plan, honey?” You look at the officer in confusion before he turns around and grabs his keys. “Are we driving you to where Gabriel is?”

Your head shakes as the day hits you and you start bawl.

“Can we take a break, please?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s been a rough night. Do you want to go home?”, Steve asks and again you shake your head. Slowly, he walks forward till he’s inches in front of you. “Y/N, are you in that vulnerable headspace we talked about?” When you nod, he lifts you into his arms and you promptly wrap your limbs around him as you rest your head on his shoulder.

You heard the long-haired boy pass you as he went up the stairs and the officer followed with you in tow.

“Honey, do you want to take a bath or anything?”

“I’m sorry I lied.”

“Thank you but, baby girl, that’s not what I asked.”

“I’d like a bath, please.”

You cling to his neck as he holds you waiting for Eddie to finish getting everything together and places you down gently in the warm water. Closing your eyes, you heavily sigh.

“I love you to…both of you…so much. I-I-I’ve wanted to say something before but you two have been together for over a-a year. The three of us have been seeing each other for a couple of months. I didn’t want to scare you off or—”

Fingers grabbed your chin as a cigarette tasting mouth met your own.

“Always be open with us, sweetheart. Always. Say it again…please.”

You chuckle through your tears as he smiles against your lips.

“I love you, Eddie and Steve.”

As their kisses become more heated, you feel yourself becoming desperate to have them make you theirs.

“I want you both…please…”

“Y/N, you need a break.”, the officer chuckles at your earnestness.

“I had one. I’m ok. Please, please, please. I need to feel you both inside of me.”, you purr as your hand strokes his cock causing him to groan a bit.

The gangster leans forward and kisses your shoulder as your breathing halts at the sudden intrusion of his thick fingers in your ass.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“It’s…It’s been a while. Shit, that feels…amazing.”

Steve grins as his lips tenderly run along your chin to your neck and you cling to him as he guides two of his own fingers deep into your cunt.

“Jesus, Eddie. She’s so fucking tight. I don’t think this little pussy can take much more.”

“Nooooooo, Steve. Please.”, you whine. “I can take it. I can take it. I can…”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Climbing out of the tub, the long-haired boy splashes water everywhere and wraps his arm around your body to lift you off his boyfriend, carrying you haphazardly back into the bedroom. Your soaking wet frames trench his mattress as he lays on his back behind you and situates you with your back to him straddling his waist.

“I’m gonna hold my cock…and you just…lower that sexy ass onto it…as slow as you need to.”, he panted.

Nodding, his length twitches in anticipation as you hold your cheeks open giving him a good view before gradually beginning to take him in.

“Oh. O-oh, Steve?”

“I’m right here, honey. You’re doing so good. I got you.”, he cooed as he rested his palm on your hip in front of you while his other caressed your face. “There you go. Just take your time, pretty girl.”

It felt like an eternity but when your hips finally connected with the gangsters, you carefully leaned your back onto his chest noticing then that his eyes were closed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just…trying not to cum early.” He smirked when you giggled. “You feel so good, Y/N. Your ass is just fucking choking my dick.”

Steve noticed your pussy flutter at the man’s words and he can’t help himself, leaning forward and licking a long stripe through your folds making you shudder.

Inching towards you two on his knees, he reared back and spit onto your clit, rubbing it in with the tip of his cock, teasing you before he guided himself into your entrance.

“Ah…God fucking damn it. I told you, Y/N…tight.”

Your head fell back as you begun to feel overwhelmed with the feeling of them inside you.

“St-Steve, baby, I-I-I can feel you. Fuck I’m not gonna last long.”, Eddie whined causing the officer to bite his bottom lip as he thrust his hips at a faster pace. “What about you, princess? Are y-you alright?”

You didn’t respond, you could barely catch your breath let alone think. Ringed fingers circled around your throat as your mouth fell open and the officer’s deep voice pushed through the fog.

“He asked you something, little girl. Are you in pain?”

“No.”, you murmur.

“Do we need to stop or slow down?”

“N-No. Please. Fuck me.”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as his head hung and both men moved at a faster, harder rhythm. Eddie’s palm looped around to massage your tit as the other boy’s thumb reached down to play with your bundle of nerves.

A sudden feeling you had never felt before ran through your body and crashed into you like a wave. You screamed as you trembled, panting heavily as the coil in your stomach aggressively snapped and your felt something wet drench your lower half.

“Jesus fucking… Christ.”, Steve stuttered as his hips stopped moving and he dug his fingers into your waist as he came.

At the sight above him, Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer as he hugged you to him and with a few more pumps released his seed inside of you.

“D-Did…Did she…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

It took them a few seconds to realize you had started to quietly sob into the pillow beside you and as carefully as they could they pulled out of you, moving your hair back so they could see your face.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong, honey?” Are you ok? Was it too much?”

“T-T-That…That’s never…never happened before… It just…felt so good. Did I ruin the moment?”

“Oh, sweetie. No, no not at all. That’s perfectly normal. Well…not for us…Aren’t you a doctor? You’ve never—OW!”, Steve gasped when his boyfriend smacked his bicep, widening his eyes as if to tell him to shut up.

“Y/N, what my idiot is trying to say is we’ve never made a girl…squirt…before. Geez, it sounds kind of crass doesn’t it?”, Eddie laughs making you softly smile. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart. That was actually really sexy. Did you see what you did to him? Turned him into a teenager again.”

Steve grins as he blushes and lays down in front of you, placing a light kiss on your nose.

“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m, um, I’m really tired though…heavy.”

“I can imagine but we can’t fall asleep with the bed in the state it’s in.”, Eddie jests as he gets to his feet and gently lifts you into his arms. “Babe, I’m going to give her a quick shower. I have some clean sheets in that closet back there.”

The officer bounces out of the bed and kisses his partner before placing a soft one on your cheek as you keen into the gangster’s neck.

You’re so blissed out and exhausted, everything moves in a blur as you feel warm water on your skin, Eddie’s gentle touches, and the comfort of soft, clean sheets.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I swear I’ll never hurt you like that again.”

Arms circle around you as both men nuzzle their faces into your skin.

#######################

“Please be advised, going into Munson compound in 5.”

Steve’s eyes blink slowly open at the sound of his radio cackling.

“Shouldn’t Harrington be here? This is his case.”

“Well, maybe, he’ll actually answer his phone next time.”

Eddie’s head lifted as their eyes met. Reaching for his phone, he sent a message before getting out of bed and smashing it against the wall.

That startled you awake but Steve’s palm over your mouth silenced you from making any noise. After making a shushing motion with his finger, he pointed towards his radio.

“3 minutes till entry.”

Pushing against your back, he ushered you out of bed and quickly threw some of Eddie’s clothes over your naked body. Once you were situated, he hastily threw on his own clothes, and grabbed his gear along with anything else that would incriminate him as the three of you hurried down the stairs.

Tugging on his hand, you pause as you show them a text message you got around 3am that morning.

“Y/N,

I’m sorry for how things ended with us. I loved you and I was so fucking stupid for letting you go. I should have fought for us but I robbed that store instead. I knew Allen wouldn’t me go and I knew if I ran back to you, he would use you against me like he did with Eddie.

He seems like a good man but I’m sorry, babe. I can’t let him to get you killed.

Don’t be with him in the morning and don’t warn him.

It won’t matter, trust me.

Run, Y/N. Hell, take the cop with you if you have to have one of them but stay away from anything Munson.

You have no idea what they’ve done…what they’re capable of…

I love you,

Gabriel

“You were right…I should have let you--”, you whispered.

Eddie yanked your arm cutting you off and cupped your cheeks as his lips passionately kissed yours.

“One minute to entry. This is it, guys.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, pretty girl. I’ll be ok. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you to.”, you cry as Steve pulls you two apart and pushes you towards a vent he had pried open.

The gangster shrugs, fighting the tears that want to push through.

“I’ll find out what they know. It can’t be much.”

“Enough to storm my building. They’ve never done that before.”

The officer grabs the back of his boyfriend’s neck as they kiss and hug each other tightly.

“Everything’s going to be ok, honey. I promise. I love you so much.”

“I love you to, my paladin.”

After you climbed in, Steve followed and Eddie hurriedly closed the grate behind you two just as a loud explosion filled your ears.

You both watch through the window of metal as the gangster cleared his throat and his face hardened as he listened to the sound of officers screaming as they banged against his front door.

“You’re going to follow me, ok?”, Steve whispers as you nod but as he turns to move, you freeze as you see Eddie raise his hands in surrender and the door loudly bursts open.

Officers scream at him to get on the ground, grabbing him, and pinning him to the carpet as they handcuff his hands behind his back.

“Come on, guys. You know I like it rough but this is ridiculous.”, he joked.

“Shut the fuck up, Munson. You’re in a lot of trouble”, Detective Hopper scolds.

Lightly tugging on your sleeve, Steve motioned for you to follow with the gangster’s sarcastic chuckles echoing behind you.

###############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon

216 notes · View notes

lilbabypanda-blog2 · 1 month ago

Text

Two sides of a Gem

Aventurine x (stoneheart)reader

Preview [ Part1 ]

Reader will be known as ruby, will appear as a male stoic and monotone. But it's actually just a puppet. No one knows where the real ruby is and what she's up to, she just let's her puppet do her work, and most people only know the puppet as ruby and not her true self, Aventurine will meet the real ruby known as Y/N:

A.N: it's not proofread, and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes

Aventurine sat in the chair his office, playing around with a poker chip between his fingers while he let out a sigh seeing the stack of paperwork a colleague just dropped on his desk, he'd rather do anything else than that, he will have to take care of it eventually. After a few minutes of glaring at the stack of documents he reluctantly picked the first paper reading its contents as a knock on the door disrupted him, he looked up as the door opened and his secretary walked in "I'm sorry to disturb you Mr.Aventurine, but opal has called all stonerhearts to a meeting in 20 minutes"

Aventurine let's out a sigh, before showing his usual smile

"Alright, finally an excuse to not do this paperwork, thank you for informing me, your dismissed"

His secretary nodded and turned to leave the office closing the door behind her.

Aventurine got up and stretched, he checked his phone for any messages, before making his way out the office.

"AVENTURINE!" an angry voice came from behind

As he turned around he was met with an very angry topaz,

"You made me invest in this failed project on purpose didn't you!"

Aventurine held up his hand in mock surrender smirking "what makes you say that, I would never"

"Don't act all suprised you did this on purpose!" She pointed her finger at him

"I swear when I told you about the investment the project was doing well" he chuckled which made topaz even angrier, she opened her mouth but was stopped by jade " now now are you two fighting again?"

"Madam jade" topaz greeted her

"You two fight like little kids" a monotone voice chimed in.

Next to jade stood ruby, a tall man with red hair and redish eyes in his usual stoic demeanor, he just shook his head and walked past them towards the meeting room.

Topaz frowned "sometimes I'm asking myself if he's even human he's so ...cold..."

Aventurine chuckled "makes him kinda terrifying"

Jade chuckled, "well, good looking, strong, smart and terrifying, a good combination if you ask me, makes the job easier"

Everyone took their seats as opal entered the room.

"Good morning everyone, I'm glad you all made it" opal glanced at ruby then walked up to his seat and sat down.

"Let's begin, diamond and I looked over your recent projects, most of them have been very successful, aventurine and ruby, both of you managed high risk projects and completed them successfully". Aventurine smirked, playing with his poker chip. "Well, seems like I have quite the competition, completing high risk, and dangerous projects" he smirked at ruby who just stared back at him.

Opal cleared his throat and began assigning the new projects to each stoneheart

" Signal transmissions from Jarilo-VI have been detected by the IPC, Due to it's isolated and dangerous natural environment, Jarilo-VI lost contact with other worlds after the appearance of the Cancer of All Worlds."

He pointed to the documents he had distributed to each Stoneheart.

"We need someone to go down there and collect the overdue dept, and secure some properties for the IPC".

While the other stonehearts began to discuss the case topaz read the documents in silence, something about Jarilo-VI situation reminded her about her own home, That planet was extreme resource-poor. Therefore people need to worked laboriously, manufacturing product to created an export products to other civilizations in the universe. Most insisted on chemical and heavy industries. Which slowly turn planet to become a toxic environment. People with enough money buy tickets to leave a planet while the rest were waited for their death.

Until one day The IPC came to her home planet and use their technology to heal damaged environment. As an payment, all of the planet inhabitants become IPC employees. In only a few years after the contract, the planet biosphere is healed completely. She made up her mind "I'll take this case"

The other stonehearts turned to her in suprise. "That planet seems like a waste of time" Sugilite looked at topaz and closed the documents uninterested. "But it wouldn't be fair to simply ignore Jarilo-VI situation" pearl chimed in.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair "Jarilo-VI is is a high-risk, low-reward case, why bother to take it on. Your kind heart can be more of a liability than an asset in cases like this, dont you agree ruby?" Avebturni adjusted his glasses and smirked at ruby who's been quiet till now. The attention of the room shifte all gazes fell on ruby waiting for an answer "Jarilo-VI is indeed a high risk project, but, if topaz is confident in her abilities I don't see why she shouldn't try it"

Jade chuckled "I agree with ruby, if topaz wishes to take over the Jarilo-VI project, let her do it"

"Alright that settles it then, topaz will take over the Jarilo-VI project " opal declared "as for aventurine, we have an opertunity to reclaim what once belonged to the ipc, we received an invitation for the upcoming charmony festival in penacony, that seem like the right job for you don't you think?"

Aventurine tossed his poker chip in the air "quiet the risky gamble, high risk high rewards" he chuckled as he caught the chip.

Opal ended the meeting and everyone gathered to leave.

"Ruby, wait" called out to him as he stopped in his tracks and turned around. She walked up to him "thank you ...if you haven't spoke in my favor I probably wouldn't have gotten the chance to take the Jarilo-VI project"

Ruby stared at her for a moment "no need to thank me, if your confident in your abilities to handle this project there's no reason to deny you the opertunity, though, if you fail the consequences are on you" Tooaz smiled up at him "Don't worry I'm aware of the risks and consequences".

"Very well, good luck then" ruby nodded before turning around and walking off.

"I really advise against taking this project" Aventurines voice cut through the silence" topaz looked at him sharply "like you advised me to invest in this failed project" Aventurine chuckled "Oh come on your still mad about this".

............................

Later that night:

Ruby leaned against the wall of his living room gazing out the window as he recounted today's events to the other person on the call.

"Penacony huh?" A feminine voice mused on the other side of the line "so what are you planning to do?" Ruby asked "it's indeed very risky but I could ..."

He heared a chuckled from the other side of the line "no no, I'm sure they won't just let two stonerhearts check into the hotel, so leave this one to me, I'll be there anyways"

"Understood"

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jiaoqiu x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #aventurine x reader #aventurine fluff #honkai blade x reader #honkai star rail x you

54 notes · View notes

minarisplaything · 2 years ago

Text

The Producer: Second Audition ft. Huh Yunjin

A/N: you can consider this a one-shot to the main series or perhaps a glimpse into the future of what's to come. either way i wanted to post it because It honestly might be one of my favorite things i've written in a minute and i'm not sure when the next chapter installment will be. enjoy!

pairing: huh yunjin x m!reader/oc summary: After first evaluations don’t go as planned, PD-nim gets an unexpected visitor at his office. rating: Explicit

An unexpected knock at your door pulled you from the pile of documents on your table.

“Come in!” you called.

The past 48 hours had been a crash course in learning that while your uncle may have invested in modern facilities, he had not invested in modern record keeping. You and Jessica had already discussed hiring someone to help with converting everything to digital but for now the task was left up to you to sort through the records. A task that was proving tiresome at best. So when Yunjin poked her head through your door it was a welcome relief.

“Yunjin, what can I do for you?”

You didn’t feel as though you had a chance to truly get to know any of the girls as of yet. And with evaluations ongoing it made any attempts at breaking the ice even more tense. Except for Hyejoo who seemed unphased by anything, least of all your presence.

“PD-nim,” Yunjin greeted, her voice sounding surprisingly strained. “Do you have time to talk?”

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

From what Jessica had told you of Yunjin she was quite the extrovert. And you had noticed it when seeing the girls interact with each other. But as she stood before you now she seemed almost nervous, apprehensive even; but there was a quiet determination in her eyes. Curious, you reclined back into your chair and eyed her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before putting them behind her back.

“I wanted to talk about my evaluation.”

“Ah…”

“I was nervous and trying to impress you. I didn’t perform anywhere near my best,” she began to ramble. “And I know Lily and Chaehyun still have their evaluations coming up and I know they both have fucking amazing voices...”

You nearly choked on air the way she swore openly.

“Sorry,” she quickly amended before continuing, “I just don’t want you to think that this is the best I can do. I will do anything to debut. I need this and I want you to have the best impression of me.”

Fuck. This was the part of the job you were going to feel guilty about. Even the person who was usually cool, calm and collected was pouring her heart out in hopes that she wouldn’t be cut from the debut group. Is this why your uncle gave you this job? The old man was insane but he had a good heart. He wouldn’t have been able to stomach this but…then again you were barely stomaching this as it was.

When you snapped out of your thoughts you realized Yunjin had made her way from the front of your desk around to your chair. Swallowing thickly you couldn’t help but notice that the nervousness had seemingly left her body as she looked at you with lidded eyes. Every logical cell in your body was saying to do something, anything, and yet all you did was find your eyes drawn to her lips.

“Yunjin…”

“PD-nim” she interrupted you. She grabbed the arm of your chair, turning it so you could face her. “You know the girls keep talking about how handsome you are.”

“I don’t think…”

Before you could finish your sentence, Yunjin was sliding her body into your lap, straddling your legs. She straightened, pressing her lithe form against yours for a moment before sitting back onto your thighs so she could look at you. Here you had thought you were going to hear the plea of a desperate girl, now you were looking at a woman who was in complete control of what she was doing.

“Between you and me, who is your favorite?” her fingers danced along your chest, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, “You call tell me, I promise I won’t say. Is it Jimin-unnie? Or Chaewon-unnie?” She leaned close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered you a secret, “I think you could fuck both of them if you wanted to.”

Your cock gave a guilty twitch at those words.

“Yunjin” you finally got out, finding your tongue, “This isn’t appropriate. And this isn’t how to secure your spot in the group.”

In response to you trying to put your foot down, Yunjin rolled her eyes. You opened your mouth to further chastise her only to fall short when she pulled the hem of her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground. Her bare breasts were on display for you, puffy nipples staring you in the face as Yunjin looked down from her perch atop your lap, a smirk growing at your sudden silence.

She leaned forward, placing her arms lazily around your neck. She was so close that you could smell the perfume she wore. Did she wear that just for you? To further add to the intoxication? If you had any last words of resistance they were swallowed as Yunjin pressed her lips to yours. She took the lead, arching her body into yours as she kissed you. Her tongue ran along your bottom lip before slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. How had you ever fooled yourself into thinking this girl seemed timid when she entered your office?!

Head spinning, you tried to grasp some hold of the situation. Your hands found their way to her hips, telling yourself that you were intent on shoving her off of you. Yet somehow shoving her off turned into gripping her tighter. Yunjin moaned into your mouth approvingly, grinding her hips atop your growing erection. For a long moment that was all that existed. Slowly losing yourself in her aggressive kiss while she continued to rock her hips against yours. There was soon no denying your physical arousal, and by the way you were gripping her hips it was clear you had mentally given over to it as well.

It was Yunjin who ultimately broke the kiss, her nose brushing against yours. “PD-nim, you’re wearing too much clothes.”

As if to emphasize her point her hands moved towards your belt buckle, undoing it with deft hands before unbuttoning your pants.

“Yunjin, you know this won’t guarantee your spot right?”

Yunjin scoffed, giving you a wry look, “PD-nim you really know how to talk to a lady you know that?” her fingers fished your cock out of your boxers, giving the girthy meat a squeeze that caused you to grip her tight she might bruise. “And you really shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.”

Her cockiness might’ve been infuriating in any other circumstance. In this case, however, when she was holding the evidence of her ability in her hand there was little point in maintaining a stern facade. Seeing the resignation on your face a devilish smile spread across Yunjin’s features. She slowly stroked your cock, pre-cum already dripping from the tip. You should’ve been more ashamed than you were. In truth you wanted more.

It seemed so did Yunjin, she sat up slightly, beginning to move herself atop your length when there was a sudden knock at your door.

“Are you busy?”

“That’s Jessica,” you blurted out in a hushed whisper.

It only lasted a second but you could have sworn you saw a look of panic on Yunjin’s face. A moment of chaos ensued ultimately ending up with Yunjin being stuffed topless under your desk with your hard cock still out but hidden from view.

“Kind of,” you called back. “What did you need?”

“Can I come in? It’s easier to talk about it in person.”

You glanced down under the desk to see Yunjin who had already taken to sucking on your cock like a lollipop despite the situation you were currently in. This girl. And where was her shirt?! You briefly looked around, spotting it and tried to drag it out of site with your foot.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, come in.”

Jessica entered, dressed in a form fitting pant suit. She never failed to dress to kill, though for the first time your attention was far from focused on your co-worker.

“What’s –” you paused, clearing your throat when you felt Yunjin start to fondle your balls, “What’s up?”

“I was just thinking about the evaluations earlier…”

Oh fuck. She wants to talk about something serious? Now of all times?! Admittedly, Jessica didn’t know you were currently getting a blowjob under your desk but her timing couldn’t be worse. It also didn’t help that Yunjin was still technically one of the trainees being evaluated. Maybe you could talk your way out of it before you lost it entirely.

“Oh? I thought they went well” you feigned.

Jessica fixed you with a look that might’ve been the most judgemental look you had received in your life. And honestly, given what was going on you probably deserved it. “That’s only because you don’t know the girls. A lot of them don’t usually perform that poorly. I think we may have rushed the evaluations a little too soon.”

“Are you sure you’re not,” you swallowed a swear and a moan, “...just too close to the situation?”

“No, I’m not –” she paused to gain her composure. “They are good enough to make it into the group. Yunjin especially is talented.”

As if on cue, Yunjin began to deep-throat your cock. She took it all the way, your cock poking her throat as she pressed her face into your groin. On what hand you wondered why she was being so risky. On the other hand – good god.

“Oh, I’m sure she is,” you breathed out. “So what…what are you suggesting we do?”

Maintaining eye contact with Jessica was getting harder and harder, so you were almost grateful when she started pacing back and forth.

“I don’t know. Maybe push evaluations back a bit? Give the girls some time to get comfortable with the new situation? It’d also give you more time to settle in.”

Yunjin’s tongue ran along the thick vein on the underside of your cock as she slowly pulled it out of her mouth. Careful to make as little noise as possible while utterly torturing you to the utmost extent. She began to swirl her tongue around it, from the sensitive tip all the way down the base. You knew you had to get Jessica out of there immediately if she kept this up.

“Y-yeah that sounds good. Let’s do that” you stuttered.

“Really?”

“Yes! I trust your judgment.”

Jessica, usually so cool and professional, cracked a rare smile. “Great! I’ll go let the girls know.”.

Fortunately, she seemed too pleased to comment on your distressed expression, instead hurrying out the door. Almost simultaneous with the sound of the door closing, Yunjin began to vulgarly suck your cock. She was intent on draining every drop from you as she massaged your balls, coaxing your release to shoot out. You were completely at her mercy as you gripped your desk, trying not to cry out as you looked down at her. When she looked up at you with a wide-eyed stare, her mouth firmly secured around your cock, it was over for you.

“Fuck!”

You grunted as your peak hit. Rope after rope of cum filled her mouth yet she didn’t pull off once. In fact, Yunjin didn’t spill a single drop. When she did finally pull her mouth off your cock, she made sure to suck it clean before finally swallowing and looking up at you with a smirk.

“PD-nim, I think my vocals will be a lot better next time now.”

Fuck. What had you just gotten yourself into.

#kpop smut #male reader #le sserafim smut #le sserafim x male reader #yunjin smut #huh yunjin smut #yunjin x male reader #huh yunjin x male reader #lsfm smut

748 notes · View notes

thebunnednun · 6 months ago

Text

LOYALTY [Chapter 4]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

Summary:

Bakugou can't sleep and you're gonna help him. Too bad your ex is trying to get you tho.

Tonight's song: Put your head on my shoulder by Paul Anka

--------------------------Chapter 5: Sleepless--------------------------

Katsuki Bakugou sat slouched at his desk, his eyes half-lidded as he struggled to stay awake. He’d barely gotten any sleep last night, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake. It was unlike him to be this distracted—he was always the first one in the office, ready to tackle whatever the day threw at him. But today was different.

Kirishima strolled into the office, his usual grin plastered on his face. He could tell something was off with Bakugou the moment he saw him, and he couldn’t resist poking fun at his best friend.

“Yo, Bakubro! What happened? Did you go to bed at 8:31 instead of 8:30 like usual?” Kirishima teased, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Bakugou’s crimson eyes narrowed, the familiar fire flickering back to life despite his exhaustion. Without a word, he raised his hand and sent a small explosion towards Kirishima’s face. The redhead reacted instantly, hardening his skin to absorb the blast without a scratch, the force of it blowing his hair back slightly. He grinned even wider, unfazed by the attack.

“Not in the mood, shitty hair,” Bakugou grumbled, reaching for a bottle of water on his desk and guzzling it down in one go. The cool liquid did little to wake him up, but it was better than nothing.

Kirishima chuckled, sliding a cup of coffee across the desk towards his friend. “Relax, man. You look like you didn’t sleep at all. Maybe we could get you some sleep aids through the company. Or, y’know, you could try those ASMR videos of people cooking. That seems right up your alley.”

Bakugou shot him another glare, but it lacked its usual intensity. He knew Kirishima was just trying to help in his own way, but it only irritated him more. It wasn’t like he could explain what was really bothering him. How was he supposed to tell his best friend that he couldn’t stop thinking about a girl he saw at a club? A girl that he subscribed to and she didn’t even need to get naked. A girl that made him feel alive and seen last night. A girl who returned both his phone and wallet when he forgot them while his head was still reeling from the little heart she left on the glass for him and didn’t touch anything in or on them. This wasn’t him. He didn’t get hung up on shit like that.

With a heavy sigh, Bakugou slumped back in his chair, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment. “I don’t need that shit. M’fine,” he muttered, though the weariness in his voice betrayed him.

Kirishima softened his gaze, recognizing the weight behind Bakugou’s words. He knew his friend better than anyone, knew when to push and when to back off. This was one of those times where Bakugou needed space, even if he wouldn’t admit it. But that didn’t mean Kirishima wasn’t going to keep an eye on him.

“Alright, man. But if you need to talk, you know I’m here,” Kirishima offered, his tone light, but sincere.

Bakugou grunted in response, still half-asleep but grateful in his own way for the gesture. He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to shake off the lingering thoughts from last night. But no matter how hard he tried, your face, your voice, your touch against the glass—it all kept playing in his mind like a broken record.

Kirishima watched his friend, concern creeping into his features. He wasn’t used to seeing Bakugou like this, so lost in his own head. It wasn’t normal, and that worried him more than anything.

“Seriously, though. You look like crap, Bakugou. Maybe take a break today? I can handle things for a bit.”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped open, a fierce scowl forming on his face as he sat up straight. “Don’t tell me what to do, shitty hair,” he snapped, the fire back in his voice. But there was something different in the way he said it, a tinge of frustration that wasn’t usually there.

Kirishima raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin on his face. “Alright, alright. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

Bakugou didn’t respond, his mind already wandering back to you. He hated how much space you were taking up in his thoughts, but the more he tried to push it away, the more it clung to him. What was it about you that had gotten under his skin so easily?

As the morning dragged on, Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew one thing for certain—he needed to see you again. And that thought, more than anything, kept him on edge.

---

The apartment was more than you could’ve hoped for. Spacious, clean, and blessedly affordable, it was the perfect place to start the next chapter of your life. The rent, at $750 a month, was a miracle in a city where finding decent housing was like winning the lottery. And the best part? You were only ten minutes away from Mr. Muhammad and Mrs. Yukiji’s apartment, which meant you could still babysit and tutor their kids—something you’d grown to love doing.

Michael had been relentless in pushing you to snag the place the moment it became available. You hadn’t been as eager at first, especially when you found out it was the apartment next to hers, but Michael, with her boundless energy and persuasive charm, had made it impossible to say no. It didn’t hurt that she was in the same major as you, and you’d grown close during your time together at school.

She was more than just a friend; she was your confidante, the big sister you never had.

The other girls from the club had turned out to be in a similar boat. Students, just like you, all trying to make ends meet while juggling classes and work. When the campus housing became too expensive, even with grants and scholarships, they’d banded together, pooling their resources and looking out for each other like a little family. Michael, ever the leader, had welcomed you into the fold without hesitation. Despite your initial shyness and ironic dislike for physical touch, they adored you. You were their baby, the one they all wanted to protect.

Ruby—or Megumi, as you knew her outside the club—had even offered to help you get back at your ex by having her boyfriend smash his car. The image of sweet, petite Ruby taking a bat to a car was enough to make you laugh, though you quickly turned down the offer, not wanting her boyfriend to get another strike on his record.

Then there was the matter of your safety. Your day job was getting strange, with less projects being sent your way, so you’d confided in Michael about the security tape and microchip you’d taken. Without missing a beat, she’d helped you make copies and store them in a safe, just in case. Two copies were hidden in the Muhammads’ apartment, tucked away where no one would think to look.

Today, the Muhammads were helping you sign the lease for your new apartment. Mr. Muhammad, a kind, soft-spoken man in his early 50s, was a history professor at the local university. His wife, Mrs. Muhammad, was a petite Japanese woman with a serene smile and a talent for making you feel instantly at ease. Their oldest daughter, Amira, was in high school, a bright and driven teenager who reminded you a lot of yourself at that age. Their young son, Kaito, was a bundle of energy, always asking questions and eager to learn about the world around him.

When you introduced Michael as a friend from work, the Muhammads took to her immediately. She joked about you being a good girlfriend, which totally went over their heads, but you threw her a look anyway as she giggled. Michael knew how much the Muhammads meant to you, and she was careful to keep things light and respectful, even if she couldn’t resist teasing you a bit.

As you walked through the apartment, you marveled at how everything had fallen into place. The white walls were pristine, the oak hardwood floors gleamed in the afternoon light, and the kitchen was small but functional—a perfect fit for someone who wasn’t exactly a master chef. (C0ugh *you* cOuGh) The two bedrooms were cozy, with plenty of closet space, and the living room had a large window that overlooked a quiet, tree-lined street.

The extra furniture, courtesy of your generous subscribers, was a bit harder to explain. You and Michael had frantically hidden it inside her apartment until you could put it all together later. The night before you and her skipped work to take the train to your job’s building. Why? Because you weren’t gonna tell the sweet old couple where the furniture came from.

Micheal was surprised that your old car, affectionately called "the lemon," was still running after you recovered it from your day job's parking lot. You playfully told her to hush, not wanting to jinx it. The two of you piled in and raced home to perform a “reverse breakin” knowing that the building’s tenants would be up soon and you really didn’t wanna catch your ex before his morning run.

You didn’t even care that it was a very empty apartment. You had freedom that no one could take away from you. You were living by yourself for the first time ever and that was a big deal.

The place was a blank canvas, waiting for your own personal touch.

Once the lease was signed and the keys were handed over, you all pitched in to move your actual things. It went surprisingly smoothly, considering your limited resources. Michael made sure to lighten the mood with her usual jokes, and even Mr. Muhammad cracked a smile as he helped carry in a particularly heavy box. By the time you were done, the apartment was filled with the sounds of laughter and the comforting buzz of a new home being settled into.

That evening, you decided to thank the Muhammads by cooking dinner for them. It was a modest attempt—nothing fancy, just a simple stir-fry and some rice—but you wanted to show your appreciation. The stir-fry had been a bit more adventurous than you’d planned, and you’d accidentally set off the alarms with some overzealous seasoning. As you bustled around the kitchen, you could hear the family joking in the living room about how it was good you were testing out the smoke alarms.

So take out it was!

Sitting down to dinner with them felt like a small piece of normalcy in your otherwise chaotic life. They were your family now, and as you shared a meal together, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging that had been missing for a long time. The Muhammads’ daughter, Amira, asked you about your classes and asked if you would come to her volleyball tournament. Kaito, their son, was more interested in showing you his latest LEGO creation, proudly displaying it on the dining table as you all ate.

Mrs. Yukiji complimented you on the meal, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she assured you the smoke alarm incident was just part of the learning process. Mr. Muhammad, ever the gentle old guy, simply smiled and nodded, grateful for the effort you’d put in.

As the evening wound down and you walked them to the door, you felt a swell of gratitude for the way they’d welcomed you into their lives. It wasn’t just about signing the lease or moving into a new apartment; it was about building a support system, about knowing you weren’t alone in the world. You had Michael and the girls, the Muhammads, and even your new subscribers, all playing a part in helping you find your footing again.

‘I should do another show soon.’

And as you stood in your new apartment, the sounds of the city filtering in through the window, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: hope.

While you wash the dishes, Mrs. Yukiji approaches you quietly, her usual warm smile replaced with a concerned expression. She gently taps your shoulder, drawing you away from the sink.

“Sweetheart,” she begins, her voice soft but serious, “I need to talk to you about something.” She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a small, yellow package. “This arrived for you, but… it’s from him.”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Kyoya—the one person you’ve been trying so hard to avoid, the reason you’d gone through all this trouble to stay off the grid.

Mrs. Yukiji sighs, her eyes filled with motherly concern. “I didn’t mean to snoop, but I’ve been trying to get all your mail redirected to your new place. When I saw this, I thought it was best to let you know right away.” She gently places the package in your hand.

“He’s been asking about you,” she continues, her brow furrowing slightly. “Living with us might have helped you stay hidden, but… you should be careful, my dear. You never know with men like that.”

You feel a rush of mixed emotions—fear, anxiety, but also a sense of safety standing here with her.

“I don’t know what’s in that package, but…” Mrs. Yukiji’s voice softens further as she reaches up to kiss your temple, her short stature requiring her to stretch a bit. “Maybe you should open it at the police station, just in case it’s something… unpleasant. We’re here for you, remember that.”

Her words, though unsettling, carry the warmth and love that only someone who truly cares about you could offer.

Mrs. Yukiji gives you one last reassuring smile before she heads back to the living room. You watch her return to the cozy space, where Michael immediately makes room for her on the couch. The two of them share a brief exchange, and then Michael's gaze shifts back to you, her eyebrows lifting in curiosity.

You hold up the small yellow package, its presence a stark contrast to the warm, homey atmosphere of your new apartment. Michael tilts her head, a silent question in her eyes. You mouth the words, "Ex-man," with a touch of exasperation.

Michael's response is immediate and dramatic. She rolls her eyes, then, making sure no one else is watching, she pretends to choke herself, her expression a comically exaggerated mix of annoyance and disgust. The sight makes you stifle a laugh, your shoulders shaking with quiet giggles.

You set the package down inside the trash can, it doesn’t deserve a place in your new life—not on your new kitchen counters, not anywhere in this apartment that’s quickly becoming your sanctuary.

The small act of discarding it feels like a weight lifted from your chest, and when you glance back at Michael, she gives you a subtle thumbs-up, her eyes twinkling with approval.

You didn’t know what kind of statement he was trying to make but he could take it and shove it straight up his-

“The shows back on!”

“I’m coming!”

–

Up on the rooftop, Bakugou and Kirishima sit with their legs dangling over the edge, enjoying the fresh air as they dig into their convenience store haul. The city hums beneath them, but the height offers a certain peace that neither of them can get on the crowded streets below. Bakugou munches on a sandwich, the coffee he picked up doing little to shake the exhaustion clinging to him. Kirishima, always on alert, keeps watch while they eat, his eyes scanning the horizon.

Kirishima breaks the silence first, biting into an apple before glancing over at his friend. “You going back to that club tonight?”

Bakugou shrugs, hunching over as he chews, clearly not interested in the conversation.

“Come on, bro,” Kirishima continues, trying to sound lighthearted. “I love seeing you get out there, but this isn’t the way to start living your life. You’re gonna get brain rot.” He tosses the rest of his apple toward Bakugou, who catches it effortlessly and glares at him.

“If I did, it’s from hanging out with you for so long,” Bakugou snaps back, rubbing his tired eyes. The coffee isn’t doing its job, but he refuses to pump himself full of those sugary energy drinks that make him feel like crap later.

Kirishima just grins and scoots a little closer. “Come on, man, you gonna tell me what’s up or am I not your bestie anymore?”

Bakugou groans, burying his face in his hands. “I met someone.”

Silence hangs in the air, and when Bakugou looks up, he sees Kirishima staring blankly at him, mouth slightly open.

“What?” Bakugou barks, annoyed.

“Nothing, nothing. Continue.” Kirishima quickly shakes himself out of it, but there’s a hint of surprise lingering on his face.

Bakugou glares, but then sighs, the weight of his thoughts pushing down on him. “I met someone at one of those stupid hangouts Pikachu organized. Now I can’t stop thinking about them.”

Kirishima props his chin on his fist, considering this. “Did you not grab their number or something?”

“No.”

“So you’ve been bummed because you met someone you were interested in and didn’t take a chance?”

“Her.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t grab her number,” Bakugou clarifies, emphasizing the word with a scowl.

Kirishima blinks rapidly, processing this new information. “You got something to say?” Bakugou challenges, a dangerous edge to his tone.

“No, no, I just—well, I’m a little surprised,” Kirishima admits, holding up his hands in surrender. “So you’ve been going back, hoping to run into her again?”

“I do run into her, but she’s on the clock, and I don’t wanna mess up her shifts.”

Kirishima, assuming this mystery woman must be a bartender or something similar, nods sagely. “Ah, yeah, bro, it’s not manly to hit on someone while they’re working.”

Bakugou grunts in agreement, still looking a little lost in his thoughts.

“Tell that to your fangirls,” Bakugou adds, his tone a mix of irritation and amusement. “Would it kill you to put on a shirt once in a while?” Kirishima laughs, the sound booming through the quiet evening air. “Hey! You get crowded way more than me, and the shirt would get ruined anyway! It would be like trying to groom a pineapple!”

Despite himself, Bakugou smirks at that, shaking his head. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dumbass,” Kirishima shoots back with a grin, bumping Bakugou’s shoulder playfully. “And I’m telling you, man, you gotta figure this out. Whether you want to admit it or not, this is getting to you.”

Bakugou looks out at the skyline, his smirk fading as his thoughts drift back to the club, to the mysterious woman who’s somehow taken root in his mind. Maybe Kirishima’s right. Maybe he needs to do something about this before it drives him crazy.

His eyes narrowed as he stared out at the city, the cool breeze doing little to calm the turmoil in his mind. He had half a mind to pull out his phone and check it—just to see if you had responded to his message—but he stopped himself. It was a stupid idea. He knew it. The last thing he needed was to get caught up in something that would only distract him more.

With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his phone deeper into his pocket, deciding to ignore it for now. Kirishima was finishing up his sandwich, glancing over at Bakugou every now and then with a concerned look.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as they finished their patrol. The usual rhythm of their shift felt off, each passing second grating against Bakugou’s nerves. He could hardly focus on anything else, his mind continuously drifting back to that night, to you, and how you had somehow managed to take up residence in his thoughts.

Finally, the clock ticked over, signaling the end of their shift. Bakugou almost bolted for the door, eager to escape the endless loop of thoughts running through his mind. But as they were getting ready to leave, he vaguely remembered something his manager had mentioned earlier—something about a meeting with another agency. He brushed it off for now, deciding that whatever it was, it could wait. All he wanted was to go home and try to decompress.

Kirishima, always considerate, ordered takeout for dinner. He knew Bakugou would come out later, like a rat in the night, to eat whatever was left. When they got home, Kirishima made sure to leave Bakugou’s food in the fridge, his way of looking out for his best friend.

“Hey, I’m heading out with Mina,” Kirishima said as he popped his head into Bakugou’s room, checking in one last time before he left. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bakugou grumbled, though they both knew it was a half-truth at best.

Kirishima gave him a reassuring smile. “Alright, man. Try to get some rest, okay?”

Bakugou nodded, already turning over in bed as Kirishima flicked off the lights, leaving only the lamp and bathroom light on. The AC hummed softly, keeping the room at a comfortable level.

Despite how much he wanted to sleep, Bakugou found himself wide awake, staring up at the ceiling with red, swollen eyes. The exhaustion weighed on him, but his mind refused to shut down. He kept replaying everything—your face, the way you moved, the sound of your voice. It all kept circling in his head, a constant reminder of what he couldn’t seem to let go.

He clenched his fists, frustrated with himself for letting this get to him. This wasn’t like him. He was Katsuki Bakugou, for crying out loud. He didn’t let things like this mess with his head. And yet, here he was, unable to find peace, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing.

‘You know what’s missing.’

The night dragged on, the quiet ticking of the clock only serving to amplify the silence in his room. Bakugou closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but all he could see was you—dancing in his mind, haunting his every thought.

"Lemme find out that bitch quirked me," Bakugou muttered under his breath, the frustration evident in his voice. He kicked the blankets off the mattress, feeling the oppressive heat of the night suffocating him. The city's lights, filtering in through the blinds, cast a harsh glare across his room, making it feel even hotter. The bed seemed to cling to him, its scratchy fabric rubbing against his skin in a way that only heightened his discomfort.

He tossed and turned, replaying the evening over and over in his mind. Despite taking a shower earlier, he felt as though he needed another one, desperate to wash away the residual restlessness clinging to him.

But it wasn’t just physical discomfort; it was the emotional turmoil that gnawed at him. The moment your eyes met, there was something so profoundly different about you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how soft and delicate your features had been, how you had looked so soft and huggable. The warmth in his stomach had spread to his chest, a feeling that was both alien and oddly comforting. You had respected his personal space, never making things awkward, never pushing boundaries. It was a rare feeling for him—being treated with such genuine humanity without any judgment.

The warmth in his chest felt like a conflicting beacon, pulling him towards thoughts of you even as he tried to push them away. He rolled over to glance at the clock on his bedside table, the bright red digits glaring back at him:

12:05 AM

Bakugou groaned, dragging a hand through his tousled hair. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t let a simple encounter with someone mess with his head like this. He needed to get some sleep, to clear his mind. But the more he tried to push the thoughts away, the more vividly they replayed in his head—the glow of your features, the way you had made him feel seen, the peculiar comfort that came from being in your presence.

He let out a frustrated sigh and buried his face in his pillow. Maybe it was just a fleeting connection, something that would fade with time. But for now, the city's lights and the ticking of the clock seemed to mock him, keeping him wide awake as he wrestled with the feelings that had unexpectedly crept into his life.

Bakugou closed his eyes, willing himself to steady his breathing. The room was still, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint sounds of the city outside. He focused on his breath, in and out, trying to anchor himself in the present. But as much as he tried to push the thoughts away, his mind wandered back to you. The memory of your dance played in his head like a vivid daydream, accompanied by the beat of that song you had chosen for him.

He had been listening to it on his Spotify since that night. The lyrics had burrowed into his brain, especially that one line that made it feel so personal. He knew he was an arrogant asshole—he was better than he was in high school, but that line had hit something deeper. As the song played in his head, he could almost see your silhouette, the way you had moved so fluidly, so intimately, like you were dancing just for him.

Katsuki shifted on his bed, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the mattress as the scene replayed in his mind. The way your body moved, the way your eyes had locked onto his even through the barrier of glass. It had felt so personal, as if you knew him, really knew him, in a way no one else did. He could feel the tension in his chest, the yearning to hold you, to reach out and touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin against his.

But at the same time, he hesitated. He didn't want to mess everything up with his abrasive personality or his bad attitude. He didn't want to come off as a prick or discover that you weren't anything like the version of you he had built up in his head. The fear of ruining something before it even had a chance to begin gnawed at him.

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white against the dark sheets, and then released them, repeating the action several times as if it could somehow dispel the restless energy coursing through him. The song's lyrics echoed in his mind, the word "loyalty" standing out above the rest. Bakugou hated liars. He hated posers. He hated pushy people who invaded his space. He could at least tolerate his former classmates, even if they were dumbasses most of the time. But with you... it was different. You hadn’t pushed. You hadn’t judged. You had just been there, existing in his space without making him feel crowded.

And then there was that heart you had drawn on the glass.

His breath hitched at the memory. That simple, playful gesture had done something to him. It had felt like a connection, something unspoken but real. He wanted to reach out, to touch that heart, to feel the warmth behind it. But at the same time, he was terrified of shattering the peace you seemed to have.

Katsuki sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, the strands sticking up at odd angles. The red digits on his clock now read 12:15 AM, and the night felt like it would never end. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cool floor. The tension in his body refused to ease, and he found himself standing up, pacing the small space of his room. The shadows shifted with his movements, the city lights casting faint patterns on the walls.

He stopped by the window, staring out at the city below, his hands gripping the windowsill. He wanted to see you again, to experience that connection once more. But he was torn—between wanting to pull you into his life and wanting to keep his distance, afraid of what might happen if he let himself get too close.

Bakugou sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet of the room, and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He didn’t have answers, only the frustrating knowledge that you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had.

And now, he didn’t know how to get you out.

Bakugou gripped the curtains beside him, his fingers twisting the fabric as he closed his eyes and forced himself to relive that moment. That stupid, reckless moment when he had stood up and placed his hand on the glass, reaching out to you without thinking.

He couldn’t see you clearly through the barrier, but he could tell you were smaller than him—tiny, almost. The way your head tilted when you noticed his hand against the glass made his heart lurch, and for a second, he almost pulled away, knowing he had startled you.

But something had kept him there. Stubbornness, or desire—he didn’t know what it was, but he willed himself to stay, to hold his ground. And then you did it. You placed your smaller hand against his, mirroring his gesture, and in that instant, he swore he felt something stir within him. It was as if his heart had started beating again, pounding against his ribs with a force he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hot electricity had shot through his fingertips, through his palm, down his arm, and into his chest. The sensation had been overwhelming, pooling around his heart, suffusing it with warmth and life. It was as if you had reached inside him and jump-started it, breathing new energy into something that had been dormant for far too long. The intensity of it had taken him by surprise, and for a moment, he’d felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be in years.

‘Might as well have shot me,’ he thought, a bitter laugh bubbling up in his throat. No, it was more than that. It was like you had stabbed him, plunged a knife into his chest. Stabbing was much more intimate, after all—something personal, something that you had to think out.

"Fuck, no. Don’t think like that," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to dislodge the thought.

His grip on the curtains tightened, his knuckles turning white as he shut his eyes again, trying to block out the image of you standing there, just on the other side of that glass. When he opened his eyes, he felt sick, the room spinning around him as he looked down at the city below. The bright lights that usually made him feel alive now made him dizzy, disoriented, like the ground beneath him was shifting. He wasn’t afraid of heights—he never had been—so why did it feel like the floor was falling out from under him?

Why was there a sharp pain in his chest, like something was tearing him apart from the inside?

His breath hitched, and for the first time in a long time, Bakugou felt like he was drowning in emotions he couldn’t control. The city stretched out beneath him, vast and indifferent, and he felt so small, so insignificant against it all. He hated feeling like this, hated the weakness that gnawed at him.

Why couldn’t you be here to save him?

The thought was irrational, pathetic even, but it clawed at him, a desperate longing he couldn’t shake. He didn’t need saving—he never had. He was Katsuki Bakugou, for fuck’s sake. He was strong, capable, a force to be reckoned with. But right now, all he wanted was for you to be there, to pull him out of this spiral before it swallowed him whole.

He released the curtains and stumbled back from the window, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hand pressed against his chest as if he could somehow calm the storm raging inside him, but it was no use. You weren’t there, and he was left to face the crushing emptiness on his own.

Bakugou’s mind was a chaotic mess, torn between the urge to race down to your club and the instinct to keep his distance. How desperate would he have to be to show up there, to corner you with his feelings? He could already imagine it—the awkward encounter, the way you’d probably smile politely while thinking of the countless other clients who had begged for your attention, begged you to go out with them. He wasn’t just another guy, he knew that. But would you see him that way?

The thought of fucking everything up gnawed at him. What if he came off as a stalker, some creep who couldn’t take a hint? And what if—God, what if you were already in a relationship? What if you were happy with someone else, someone who wasn’t an arrogant, short-tempered asshole like him? The idea made him sick, but it was a reality he had to consider.

How selfish did he need to be before he lost his morality?

The question echoed in his mind, and for a moment, he was frozen in place, staring out at the city lights. But then something inside him snapped. He couldn’t stand the uncertainty, the not knowing. He had to do something—anything to alleviate the pressure building in his chest.

Without thinking, he turned away from the window and went back to his bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. His fingers were trembling as he unlocked it and scrolled through his messages, searching for the one he had sent you earlier. It was simple, direct, but it had taken him way too long to hit send.

Spiceman420: “You streaming tonight?”

That was it. He’d stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before finally sending it. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without sounding like a complete idiot.

Now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, he hesitated again. His thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether to check if you’d responded. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his anxiety growing with each passing second. But eventually, he couldn’t resist. He tapped the message thread and felt his breath hitch when he saw that you were online—right now.

His heart did somersaults as he saw the small notification indicating that you had replied. With a mix of dread and hope, he opened the message.

xxPrincess Diamondxx: “Hey! Sorry I missed your message. :p I was soo tired but I’m doing a little something tonight. I was hoping you’d join me :) Here’s a personal invite just for you.”

You’d sent him a direct invite to your stream, something personal, just for him. Bakugou’s heart raced as he read the words over and over, his mind struggling to process that you had actually reached out to him, that you had thought of him. His fingers trembled as he fumbled for his earbuds, desperate to hear your voice again, even if it was only through a screen.

He quickly accepted the invite, feeling his nerves spike as the screen loaded. The cool night air brushed against his skin as he unlocked the window and stepped outside, needing the fresh air to steady himself. He sat on the ledge, his feet dangling over the side as he waited for the stream to start. The city lights below shimmered like a sea of stars, but all he could focus on was the anticipation building in his chest.

As the stream connected, the familiar interface of the platform greeted him, and he took a deep breath. He was about to see you again, even if it was just a virtual encounter. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He didn’t know what to expect, didn’t know if he was ready to face you again, but there was no turning back now.

The screen flickered, and there you were. His breath caught in his throat as he saw you appear, the soft glow of your setup highlighting your features. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered, maybe even more so. The sight of you sent a wave of warmth through his body, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he settled in to watch.

His fingers clenched around the phone, his heart still pounding as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for now, he was content just to be here, just to see you. He adjusted his earbuds and leaned back against the window frame, letting the cool night air wash over him as he watched you, the tension in his chest slowly giving way to a strange sense of peace.

—-

You and Michael spent hours putting together that furniture, each piece stubbornly resisting your efforts until you finally caved and called some friends for backup. They brought their boyfriends along, who managed to figure out the assembly after watching a few YouTube videos. Finally, your guest bedroom transformed into a cuter, more posh version of your old basement setup.

The room is undeniably feminine and inviting, with soft pink bedsheets draped over a plush, cozy bed that beckons you to sink into it. The furniture, painted in delicate shades of white and cream, has a vintage charm, with intricate details and personal touches scattered throughout. A vanity sits against one wall, its mirror framed by warm lights, perfect for your evening rituals. The decor reflects your personality—elegant yet playful, with framed photos, scented candles, and soft throws adding warmth to the space.

You’ve lit some candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow around the room. Your new guest bedroom is a cozy, feminine retreat, far more inviting than the old basement setup. You slip into your cherry red robe, the silky fabric hugging your figure nicely. The robe, a recent purchase, was a little indulgence you allowed yourself, and every time you put it on, it ironically reminds you of a client’s eyes. His intense gaze had left a lasting impression, one that still lingers in your mind.

But you shake off the thought as you prepare for the night.

As you go live, the chat comes alive with messages, tips, and comments pouring in from your adoring fans. You smile, welcoming everyone warmly and explaining that after a whirlwind of life changes, you wanted to share a relaxing, intimate night with them.

The atmosphere in the chat is buzzing with affection and curiosity as they ask you questions, their excitement palpable through the screen. You're in control, dictating the pace, and it feels empowering. Tonight, you're going to unwind with them, but on your terms.

You continue with your nightly routine, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. The chat buzzes with activity as you brush your teeth, some viewers commenting on how meticulous you are while others ask about your skincare products. Once your teeth are brushed, you reach for your moisturizer, applying it in gentle circles across your face.

BlushBerry: “Your skin literally glows! I need your entire skincare line!”

LunarDreamer:“I love how thorough you are with everything. It’s so relaxing to watch.”

You smile, feeling the cool moisturizer absorb into your skin. “Thanks, guys. I try to be consistent. It’s like a little ritual for me every night.”

With your skin now hydrated and fresh, you move to the closet, taking your time to pick out an outfit for work tomorrow. You slide the hangers across the rod before settling on something particularly spicy—a black, lacy bodysuit with sheer panels, paired with a sleek denim mini skirt and thigh-high boots. You hold the outfit up for the camera, grinning mischievously as the chat erupts.

Yourmom69: “Whoa, that’s hot! What’s the occasion?”*

ShadowKnight: “Damn, that’s a killer outfit. Can we get a full view?”

You chuckle as you lay the outfit out on the bed, adjusting the camera to show it off. “Let’s just say I like to keep things interesting. Gotta keep the workday spicy, right?”

Retrofan23: “What do you do for work that you get to wear something like that?”

You tilt your head playfully, leaning closer to the camera. “Oh, you know...I like to keep secrets. Any ideas?” You shoot them a teasing wink, watching as the chat goes wild with guesses ranging from model to dancer to secret agent.

As you finish setting up for tomorrow, you prop your phone against a stack of textbooks, making sure the angle captures you perfectly. You slip into bed, the plush pink sheets almost swallowing you whole as you sink into the mattress. The softness is immediately soothing, and you can’t help but let out a small, content sigh as you settle in.

The chat explodes again, filled with compliments and heart emojis.

GoldenSunset: “You look so cute and comfy! Those sheets are everything.”

VelvetRose: “That bed looks like heaven! And you in it? Perfection.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of the bed and the affectionate words from your viewers. As you shift slightly, your robe loosens, revealing the little white shorts you’re wearing underneath. The movement also causes the robe to slip off one shoulder, teasing just a hint of cleavage, enough to drive the chat wild.

StarGazer88: “Those shorts! 😍 And dem shoulders girl… wow.”*

FrightenedFae: “No bra? You’re spoiling us!”*

You laugh softly, pulling the robe back up a bit but leaving it just loose enough to keep them guessing. “You guys are too much. But hey, it’s all about comfort, right? Gotta be cozy before bed.”

Yourmom69: “You’re killing me with these vibes. It’s like I’m right there with you.”

You lean back against the pillows, relaxing as the chat continues to buzz with energy. “So, what about you guys? What do you do to unwind before bed? Any special routines?”

The responses come in quickly, with viewers sharing their own nightly rituals, from reading to meditating to watching their favorite shows. The exchange is easy and familiar, a reminder of the connection you’ve built with your community. You feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you, knowing that you’ve created a space where everyone can come together, share, and simply be themselves.

Bakugou sat on his fire escape, the cool night air doing little to calm the heat simmering in his chest. His phone was propped up on his knee, earbuds snug in his ears, and his eyes glued to the screen where you were live, talking and interacting with your viewers. He wished it wasn’t just pixels. The way you moved, the way you smiled—it all felt so real, but also so far out of reach.

He hated it. Hated how he felt jealous of these random extras, these faceless usernames who got to see parts of you, even if it was just a sliver of your world. He clenched his jaw, trying to shake the feeling. It was crazy, irrational even, but the thought of sharing you with anyone made his blood boil. He wanted you all for himself. No sharing, no competing with anyone else for your attention.

The way you teased your viewers, that playful glint in your eye as you read their comments, only made it worse. Bakugou leaned forward, his grip on his phone tightening. The robe you were wearing had slipped just enough to show a hint of your bare shoulder, and the chat was going wild. He let out a frustrated breath, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of more tips rolling in, each one paired with comments that made his skin crawl.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself, though his eyes never left the screen. His thumb hovered over the button to close out the stream, to just shut it all down, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he scrolled down to the premium options, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew it was a line he shouldn’t cross, but he was already too far gone.

With a few taps, he purchased the beginner package, a part of him cursing himself for being so damn desperate. The screen flickered, and suddenly, he had access to some exclusive content—photos, videos, things you didn’t share with the general public.

The first thing he did was pull up one of the videos, the thumbnail alone making his breath hitch. You were sitting in that same plush bed, the one he had just seen live, but this time, you were holding the camera, your voice low and intimate as you spoke to whoever was watching. Him, now.

His mind raced as he watched, every word you said feeling like it was directed at him, like you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. The way you moved, the way you looked directly into the camera—it was all so personal, so intoxicatingly close, and yet still just out of his reach.

He could hear you asking the viewers questions, your voice soft and teasing, like you were right there beside him. You were brushing your teeth now, the mundane task somehow feeling so intimate, and Bakugou couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to share those moments with you, to be the one in your space, not just another username in a chat.

When you held up that outfit—damn, that outfit—his breath caught in his throat. The chat was going wild, and he could feel his own heartbeat quicken as you laid the clothes out, teasing the viewers with a playful smirk. He could almost hear you in his head, taunting him with that same mischievous tone.

You were speaking again, responding to a question about why you chose such a risky outfit. “What do you think I do for work?” you teased, your eyes glinting with amusement.

Bakugou swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the screen. He could feel the heat rising in his chest again, that possessiveness creeping back in. How could these idiots not know? How could they not see what he saw?

He watched as you set up your phone, getting ready to climb into bed, the chat lighting up with compliments and guesses about your job. His eyes followed every movement, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t push away. The robe slipped up further, revealing the little white shorts you were wearing underneath, and the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra was painfully obvious now.

“Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. You were so close, just within reach, and yet all he had were these damn videos and livestreams. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

He could feel his hands trembling as he adjusted his earbuds, his focus entirely on you now. The way you interacted with the chat, the way you responded to the endless stream of comments—it all felt so natural, so effortless. You were everything he didn’t know he wanted, and it was driving him insane.

But he couldn’t stop. Even as his mind screamed at him to shut it down, to stop torturing himself with something he could never have, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t want to be just another viewer, another faceless fan. He wanted more, needed more.

As you settled into bed, adjusting your robe slipping just enough to tease, Bakugou’s heart raced. He didn’t care about the others watching, didn’t care about the chat or the tips. All he could think about was you, the way you looked, the way you spoke, the way you made him feel. And in that moment, he knew he was hooked.

But damn, did it make him feel like a fool.

You snuggle into your pillow, feeling its softness beneath your cheek as the chat continues to buzz with activity. Messages flood in, viewers asking all sorts of questions about your routine and your life.

xxPinkswirl: "Why don’t you have any plushies on your bed? You’d look so cute with them!"

The question catches you off guard. For a moment, a flicker of a memory—your ex cutting and burning your beloved stuffed animals—flashes through your mind. Fucking asshole couldn't stand not being the center of your attention. Anything that wasn't him, had to go. The fear of anything not plain has lingered, but you push the thought aside and smile at the camera.

“I just haven’t gotten around to it yet,” you say, voice light. “But I do love plushies!”

The chat explodes with comments, viewers finding your response adorable.

Yourmom69: "Aww, what kinds do you like?"

You giggled, your fingers playing with the edge of your robe. "Big, soft ones that I can really squeeze. Maybe something with a cute face that makes you just want to cuddle it all day." You were resting on your pillow again with your leg propped up.

StarGazer88: "We need to get you some plushies ASAP!"

Retrofan23: "Can we send you some? 😍"

FrightenedFae: I’ll be your plushie

Bakugou watches from his fire escape, a mix of emotions churning inside him. He feels a pang of embarrassment for wanting to keep you all to himself, even though he knows it’s irrational. The thought of others seeing this soft, intimate side of you drives him a little crazy. Without hesitation, he navigates to your shopping list, searching for a way to make your space feel more personal, more like home. But when he finds it empty, a surge of determination courses through him. He needs to ask you directly.

He buys some outfits you have on there, the extra cost barely registering in his mind as he clicks through your photos and videos, heart pounding with every new image. The way you move, the softness in your voice, even in these small moments, he’s captivated.

Back in your room, you notice a question from a username you don’t immediately recognize.

Spiceman420: “What kind of plushies do you want?”

You pause, a smile spreading across your face as you read the message. “Hmm, I think I’d love anything soft and cuddly—maybe a big bear. I need something cute and fluffy,” you reply, voice softening. “What about you all? What’s your favorite kind?”

The chat lights up again, and Bakugou leans back against the cool metal railing, his heart beating just a little faster as he imagines surprising you with something you’d love.

Yourmom69: "What’s your favorite comfort food?"

You stretched out, letting the soft bed cradle you as you thought about it. "Definitely mac and cheese," you replied with a playful smirk. "But it has to be the really cheesy kind, none of that watery stuff."

StarGazer88: "Are you into any video games?"

You rolled your eyes in a bratty manner. "Maybe, but only if they don’t waste my time," you teased, winking at the camera. "I get bored easily, so it better be worth it."

As you answered, Bakugou was leaning against the railing of his fire escape, tablet balanced on his knee, while his phone screen was filled with images of teddy bears. He kept scrolling, determined to find one that matched your description—something big, soft, and with an endearing little face.

Retrofan23: "Do you have any guilty pleasures?"

You bit your lip, pretending to ponder the question before answering. "Maybe," you said, dragging out the word. "But if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?"

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you, his fingers still tapping away on his phone. He found a bear that seemed perfect—soft, huggable, and with an expression that almost screamed, “Cuddle me.” He paused, contemplating before sending a message to you.

FrightenedFae: "What’s your favorite time of year?"

You grinned, curling into the pillow a bit more. "Winter," you answered, your tone a bit softer. "I love the cold, cozy nights, hot cocoa, and the way everything feels a little more magical."

Total lie actually. You hated not celebrating because of that jerk. But you wanted to experience it like in the movies and TV shows that kept you company. Spring was always better because it meant that your depression was over and summer would be there soon to warm you up again.

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he readied himself to send the message. He was nervous—something that didn’t happen often, but this was different. You were different.

Spiceman420: Found something that might be your type. Mind if I send it your way?

He sent the message, his thumb hovering over the screen as if he could somehow will a response from you. Meanwhile, you were adjusting your phone, propping it against a pillow to get a better angle, unaware of the chaos you were causing in the chat.

Yourmom69: “I’m still caught up on the lack of plushies. I wanna see you surrounded by them!”

“Maybe I'll start a new collection soon.~"

As the chat exploded with suggestions, Bakugou’s phone buzzed with your reply. His eyes widened slightly, and his pulse quickened as he read your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He quickly started searching for the best way to get that bear to you, his mind filled with thoughts of how you’d react when you saw it. He could picture you holding it close, smiling—maybe even thinking of him when you did.

You laugh again, the sound light and genuine as you shake your head. "You guys are being too generous," you say, warmth seeping into your tone. "But fine, I’ll make a list. Just one plushie at a time, though! That way, no one gets left out."

As the chat continues to buzz with excitement, Bakugou leans back against the wall, his heart still racing. His hand grips his phone tightly, and he can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Watching you smile at his gift, even through a screen, feels oddly fulfilling.

He glances at the time on his tablet, realizing how long he’s been watching, but he doesn’t care. For now, he’s content to stay right where he is, just a little closer to you, even if it’s through a screen.

You scan through the chat, eyes catching a message you’d somehow missed. "Oh no, did I miss something from Spiceman420 ?" you ask aloud, teasingly adding, "Go ahead, but it better not be anything weird!" You laugh softly, leaning back against your pillows, the light from your screen casting a soft glow over your face.

Meanwhile, Bakugou is sitting on the edge of his bed, his tablet propped up on a makeshift stand of books and a few old magazines. His fingers hover over his phone screen as he quickly types the link to a fluffy blond teddy bear he’d found, slamming it into the chat. The moment he hits send, his heart races, watching for your reaction.

Your screen lights up with the image of the teddy bear, and the chat immediately bursts into a chorus of oo’s and awe’s.

Yourmom69: That’s so cute!

StarGazer88: Awww, I love it!

Retrofan23: That bear’s got style.

FrightenedFae: It would be perfect for you!

You tilt your head slightly, inspecting the bear. "Okay, I have to admit, that’s really cute," you say, your voice softening. "I could use a little guy to cuddle with and keep me company.”

Bakugou’s lips twitch into a small smile as he sees your reaction. Without hesitating, he taps into his account and tips you enough to cover both the bear and its shipping. He feels a mix of satisfaction and a strange, unfamiliar warmth as he watches you consider his gift.

"Whoa, looks like Spiceman420 is really spoiling me tonight," you say with a playful lilt in your voice. "Thank you so much!" You glance at the growing number of comments scrolling up the screen.

Yourmom69: You’re so lucky!

StarGazer88: We need to get her more plushies you guys!

Retrofan23: Make a shopping list, we’ll cover it all!

FrightenedFae: Let us spoil you!

You felt a little panic rise into your chest at the idea of owning plushies again. But you could just keep them inside the room as props. That’s all they would be, props.

As you continue chatting with your viewers, a large tip notification pops up on your screen, nearly making you do a double-take. "$500?!" you exclaim, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice. The accompanying message reads:

"Put on some lotion for us, please."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "You know, I can’t say no to that," you tease, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. The chat goes wild with excitement, the screen filling with heart emojis and messages encouraging you.

Meanwhile, Bakugou, who had been half-distracted by his own thoughts, immediately perks up, his vermillion eyes widening at the sudden turn of events. He sits up straighter, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you on the screen. His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he can’t tear his gaze away.

You make a show of it, slowly walking over to your vanity and grabbing a bottle of lotion. "I guess you all want a little show, huh?" you say, your voice soft and teasing. The way you drag out your words only makes the anticipation grow, and you can see the chat explode with excitement.

Yourmom69: Damn ma, you sexy!!

StarGazer88: This is gonna be good!

Retrofan23: Can’t wait to see this!

FrightenedFae: I’m dying already!

You stand up and move gracefully back to your vanity, the soft light from your candles casting a warm, golden glow on your skin. Bakugou watches intently as you sit on the stool, positioning yourself just right for the camera. The robe you’re wearing shifts slightly, revealing a bit more of your thigh as you sit down, and you can almost hear the collective gasp from your audience.

As you pour a generous amount of lotion into your hands, you rub them together slowly, the sound of your hands moving against each other barely audible but strangely intimate. The way you start at your ankles, (you not showing your feet for free working the lotion into your skin with deliberate, sensual movements, has Bakugou leaning in closer to his screen. His eyes are locked on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you slowly massage the lotion up your calves, over your knees, and then up your thighs.

His throat feels dry, and he swallows hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But it’s no use; he’s completely captivated by the sight of you. The soft, deliberate way you move, the way your fingers glide over your skin, it’s all too much. His breathing becomes shallow, his heart hammering as he watches you.

You glance up at the camera, your eyes meeting his through the screen, and he swears you can see him. The connection feels almost tangible, like you’re right there in the room with him. You tilt your head slightly, giving the camera a knowing look before standing up and moving behind a decorative divider.

The chat goes wild, messages flying in faster than you can read them.

Yourmom69: OMG, this is everything!

StarGazer88: She’s killing me!

Retrofan23: I wanna bite into those calves!

FrightenedFae: I’m gonna die from your beauty!!

You drape the robe over the divider, leaving you only in those tiny white shorts. Bakugou’s eyes narrow as he tries to catch a glimpse of you beyond the screen. He can feel his body tense up, his fists clenching and unclenching as he imagines what you’re doing just out of view. The way you casually reach for more lotion, the sound of your skin rubbing against the fabric, it’s all driving him crazy.

When you pick up your rob and finally emerge from behind the divider, your skin glistening, the chat erupts once again. The tips flood in, and you can’t help but smile at the overwhelming response.

Yourmom69: She’s glowing!

StarGazer88: I can’t breathe!!

GoldenSunset: Take all my money!

FrightenedFae: I’m dead.

Bakugou’s eyes stay locked on you as you move back to the bed, every movement slow and deliberate. The robe has slipped off one of your shoulders again, revealing just enough skin to make his pulse quicken. He’s never felt like this before, never been so captivated by someone, and it frustrates him how much he wants you.

His fingers tremble slightly as he picks up his phone, the desire to send you another message, another tip, burning in the back of his mind. He wants to be the one to spoil you, to have your attention, but he also wants more than just this screen between you.

As you settle back onto your bed, snuggling into your pillow, Bakugou feels a pang of jealousy. All these other viewers get to see this side of you, but he wants more. He wants to know you, to hold you, to be the one who makes you smile like that.

He watches as you respond to the chat, your voice soft and teasing, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His heart aches with the realization that he’s falling for you, but for now, he’s content to just watch, to soak in every moment, and to dream of the day when he might have more than just pixels between you.

Bakugou blinked, realizing the time displayed on his tablet—1:00 AM. The fatigue was heavy in his body, but sleep still eluded him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion tugging at him, but his mind was still racing, filled with thoughts of you.

Would you take a request without him sending any money? The idea felt ridiculous. He clenched his jaw, feeling the knots in his stomach tighten. Bakugou wasn't one to ask for favors, much less from someone he barely knew, but the thought nagged at him, refusing to let go. Before he could overthink it, he typed out a simple message and hit send, his heart pounding in his chest.

Back on your end, you were just getting settled back into your bed, the soft pillows cradling your head as you answered a few more questions from the chat. The tips had slowed down a bit, and the energy was starting to wind down as everyone began to relax with you. Your eyes skimmed over the messages, a soft smile playing on your lips as you responded.

The chat is alive with comments and questions, but one message catches your eye.

Spiceman420: "I can't sleep. Can you help?"

Your heart goes out to the person behind the username. You understand what it feels like to struggle with sleep, especially when your mind won’t quiet down. You smile softly at the camera, your expression sympathetic.

"Oh, I’m sorry to hear that you can’t sleep, Spiceman420," you say gently. "What can I do to help you out?"

The chat buzzes with activity as you wait for his response, your eyes scanning the messages flying in.

Yourmom69 : Aww, how sweet! LunarDreamer : She’s such a caring person! Retrofan23 : Maybe a bedtime story? FrightenedFae: Some soft music, maybe?

You glance back at the screen, waiting for Spiceman420 to reply, genuinely wanting to help him relax and find some peace.

On the other side of the screen, Bakugou feels his heart rate spike. He hadn’t expected you to notice his message so quickly, let alone respond so kindly. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and types out his request, hoping it isn’t too much to ask.

Your eyes light up as you see his next message pop up.

Spiceman420: "Could you maybe just talk for a bit? About anything."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Of course, I can do that. Sometimes just hearing someone’s voice can be really soothing." You adjust your position on the bed, making yourself comfortable, and begin to speak, your voice gentle and calming.

"I’ll tell you about my day then," you start, settling in. "My bestie and I spent hours putting together some new furniture for my bedroom. It’s looking really cute now. I tried cooking some stir fry but ended up setting off the smoke alarm."

As you continue talking, you notice the chat reacting positively, your viewers appreciating the more personal glimpse into your life.

Bakugou leans back against his bed, his eyes closing as he listens to you. Your voice is soothing, a gentle lull that begins to ease the tension in his body. He can almost picture the room you’re describing, imagining the warmth and comfort of it.

You keep going, answering a few more questions from your viewers, occasionally glancing at the screen to see the messages coming in.

Yourmom69 : That sounds lovely! StarGazer88 : Can we see the room again sometime? Retrofan23 : I bet it looks amazing! FrightenedFae: I love pink sheets!

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with your audience. "Maybe I’ll do a room tour tomorrow," you say playfully. "But for now, let’s just relax together. Is there anything else you’d like to hear about, Spiceman420?"

You wait for his response, genuinely wanting to help him feel at ease, your voice continuing to be a soothing presence in the night. The chat immediately responded with supportive comments.

Yourmom69 : That’s so sweet of you! StarGazer88 : I love this idea! Retrofan23 : Spiceman’s lucky! VelvetRose: You’re such a sweetheart, helping everyone like this.

As you waited for Spiceman420’s response, you adjusted your robe, pulling it a bit tighter around you for comfort. The soft glow from the candles cast a warm light across your room, making the pink bedsheets look even more inviting. You shifted slightly on your bed, the plush mattress sinking just enough to cradle you comfortably.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was staring at his tablet, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't expected you to respond so quickly, or with so much warmth. He bit his lip, his fingers hovering over the screen as he considered what to say. Before he could overthink it, he typed a simple, “Whatever works for you” and hit send. He set his phone down on his lap, his leg bouncing slightly with restless energy as he waited.

Your eyes flicked to the screen, catching his response. A soft smile curled on your lips. "Alright, Spiceman," you said gently, your voice warm and soothing. "Let’s see what we can do."

Before you could continue, another notification pinged in the chat.

FrightenedFae just tipped $700.

Your eyes widened slightly, not at the amount—though it was generous—but at the message that came with it:

"Can you talk like it’s a girlfriend audio? Something to help us all wind down?"

You glanced at the camera, a thoughtful look on your face. This wasn’t an uncommon request, but it was always a bit different depending on the person. You wanted to make sure Spiceman420 was comfortable with it, given the situation.

"Wow, thank you so much, FrightenedFae," you said, your voice genuine. "That’s really generous of you. I’ll definitely do that, but I want to make sure it's okay with Spiceman first." You looked directly into the camera, your expression softening. "Spiceman, would that be alright with you?"

Bakugou stared at the screen, feeling a strange mix of emotions. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but he found himself typing, "Yeah, go ahead."

He didn’t know why he was letting himself get so wrapped up in this, but there was something about your voice, your presence, that made him feel… calmer, more centered.

Seeing his response, you nodded. “Alright then, let’s do this.” You adjusted your position on the bed, reclining back against the pillows, and let your voice drop into a lower, smoother tone. There was a slight rasp to it, a warm, comforting quality that made it feel like you were right there beside him. It wasn’t sexual, but there was an intimacy to it that felt personal, genuine.

“Hey,” you began, your voice soft and soothing. “I know it’s late, and you’re probably feeling pretty tired, maybe even a little restless. But that’s okay. We’re gonna wind down together, alright? Just take a deep breath for me… and let it out slowly.” You inhaled and exhaled, bust moving with your gentle breaths.

Bakugou’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. He found himself unconsciously following your instructions, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, his body already beginning to relax.

“Now,” you continued, “before you get too comfy, make sure you’ve got everything you need for the night. Did you drink some water? Maybe grab a little snack, something light. I don’t want you to go to bed hungry. And if you haven’t brushed your teeth yet, now’s a good time to do that too. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

The chat was going to kill your phone again.

Yourmom69 : I’m getting up right now, queen! StarGazer88 : You’re too good to us! Retrofan23 : I don’t wanna leave my bed, but I’ll do it for you! FrightenedFae: This is exactly what I needed tonight, thank you!

Bakugou’s mind was spinning. He felt ridiculous for actually considering getting up, but your voice had a way of making him want to do what you said. He let out a soft, resigned groan and pushed himself up from the bed. Grabbing a granola bar from his kitchen, he unwrapped it and took a bite, chewing slowly as he continued listening to you.

“Good job,” you praised, your voice dripping with warmth and encouragement. “Now, when you’re ready, get yourself back to bed. Make sure you’re comfortable, get under those covers, and just let your body relax. You’ve done everything you needed to today. It’s time to let yourself rest.”

Fuck it was like you could see him.

Bakugou finished the granola bar and downed a glass of water, feeling oddly obedient as he brushed his teeth. He didn’t even know why he was listening to you, but something about the way you spoke made it easy to just… go along with it. Maybe if he tricked his body into following your advice, he’d finally be able to sleep.

As he climbed back into bed, he pulled his tablet closer, your stream still playing as he settled in. The tension in his chest had lessened, and for the first time that night, he felt like maybe, just maybe, sleep might actually come.

As you continued, fully embracing the role of a comforting presence, Bakugou found himself removing his shirt, the cool air brushing against his skin as he settled back into bed. He watched you intently, your voice still playing through his tablet as you lay down, adjusting the camera to a more intimate angle.

The chat was buzzing with questions, the most popular one catching your eye:

StarGazer88: Do you prefer to sleep with or without clothes?

A sly smile crossed your lips as you considered the question, your eyes glancing at the camera. "Without, if I'm being honest," you admitted with a playful tone. "But it really just depends on the night. I love sleeping with the fan on, so sometimes it can get pretty cold."

You gave the camera a knowing look before slipping off the bed, disappearing for a moment. The chat was alive with speculation, everyone trying to guess what you were up to. Bakugou leaned closer to his screen, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

When you returned, the sight made Bakugou almost sit up so quickly that he nearly hit his head on the bedframe. You were wearing an oversized "Ground Zero" t-shirt, the black fabric swallowing your frame, the iconic hero logo printed across your chest. It hung loosely on you, the hem almost reaching your thighs.

Bakugou’s heart skipped a beat. That shirt—his shirt—on you? It was like a punch to his gut, but in the best way possible. Seeing you wear something with his brand, something that represented him, made him feel something he hadn’t expected—possessiveness mixed with a strange, warm pride.

The chat erupted with excitement.

Yourmom69 : OMG that shirt is so cute on you! FrightenedFae : Look at that merch! Represent! Retrofan23 : Where can we get that shirt?! StarGazer88: Ground Zero fan confirmed!! 😍

You smiled sweetly at the comments, clearly enjoying the reaction. "It’s one of my favorites," you confessed, adjusting the shirt slightly as you crawled back onto your bed. "So comfy. And it’s perfect for nights like this."

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Seeing you all dolled up at the club had been one thing, but this—this was different. It was intimate, personal. You looked so relaxed, so natural in his shirt, and it did something to him. He felt like he was seeing a side of you that no one else got to see, a softer, sweeter version that was a stark contrast to the poised, alluring figure you presented at the club.

You settled down onto the bed, placing your phone next to your pillow. Your voice dropped to a soft, soothing tone as you began to hum a quiet melody, something gentle and comforting. "You all are so sweet," you murmured, the warmth in your voice palpable. "Thank you so much for being here with me tonight, for all your tips, your kind words… I really appreciate it. Make sure to join me tomorrow, okay?"

Bakugou’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes glued to the screen. That shirt looked so oversized on you, making you seem so much smaller, so much more… his. He knew it was crazy, that it was just a piece of clothing, but seeing you in it felt like a special treat, a glimpse into something more personal.

He barely noticed the time slipping by, so captivated by the sight of you snuggled into your bed, wearing his merch, humming softly as if you were already half-asleep. It was so different from your usual stream persona—this was you, in your element, in your space. And for Bakugou, that made all the difference.

He clenched his fists, trying to steady the chaotic mix of emotions swirling inside him. There was something about this moment that made him want to be the only one watching, the only one who got to see you like this. It was irrational, possessive, but he couldn’t help it.

For now, though, he just let himself enjoy the sight of you in his shirt, knowing that this was something special—something he wanted to keep close, just for himself.

You continued to hum softly, your voice a gentle lullaby, Bakugou’s eyes grew heavier with each passing moment. He barely noticed the time slipping by as he lay back against his pillow, the cool night air from the open window brushing against his skin. The sound of your voice, warm and soothing, wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, lulling him into a peaceful state he hadn’t felt in a long time.

His tablet rested on his chest, the screen dimming as the stream continued. More than half the viewers had already given their final tips, sending heart emojis and sweet messages before quietly exiting the stream, thinking you were on the verge of sleep. Bakugou’s breath slowed, his eyes fluttering shut as your soft words continued to echo in his mind.

“Thank you for being here with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible now, like a quiet breeze. “Sleep well, everyone.”

Those last words drifted through his mind as he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. His breathing evened out, the tension in his body melting away as he drifted into sleep, your voice still playing softly in the background.

But what Bakugou didn’t see—what none of the remaining viewers saw—was the shadowed figure that appeared behind you. As you lay still on your bed, seemingly asleep, the figure leaned over, careful and deliberate. A hand reached out, gently grabbing your phone from the pillow.

The stream abruptly ended.

The screen on Bakugou’s tablet turned black, signaling the end of the broadcast. But he was already deep in sleep, oblivious to what had just happened, lost in a dream where your voice was the only thing that mattered.

In the dark room, the figure stepped back, the phone in hand, as the glow from the screen faded into nothingness.

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

Chapter 1 is here Chapter 2 is here.

Chapter 3 is here

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

70 notes · View notes

iibonniee · 8 months ago

Text

Self Care

Pairing: Lee Minhyuk x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving),

Rating: R

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: After almost what feels like weeks of non-stop studying and taking finals, Y/N finally decides to invest in what everyone calls "self-care”. Little did she know her dearest best friend would show her his idea of self care.

Masterlist

The only thing that sat heavily on her mind was self-care. After weeks of almost back-to-back studying for finals, she knew she’d probably fail from procrastination alone; her body felt great, melting into her pleasantly soft couch. She knew she would need to get up if she wanted to do something of that nature called self-care. Still, the sofa had been calling her name after she blew it off one too many times in favor of her office chair and a dim light that hardly helped her focus on the text from the books.

After the finals, she enjoyed some time with friends, laughing about “how easy that final was.” She, of course, lied straight through her teeth to fit in with her laughing and slightly intoxicated friends. That final was absolute hell, and if she could, she’d totally find the professor’s house and tell them they should quit their jobs simply because what the fuck? Never mind the fact that she blew off all her friends in favor of studying.

Her lips pursed, remembering how her dearest friend Minhyuk had messaged her just hours ago. Instead of responding, she simply swiped the notification away for the fifth time that day. What could she say? Those finals tore through her, and now the simple fact of being around any single person deeply disturbed her. But thinking about practically blowing the man off, even with a schedule more packed than her, made her feel slightly terrible.

Her predicament was this: she was sitting – laying – very comfortably while her phone was peacefully resting on the coffee table just inches from her. She could, in theory, simply reach out for the phone and message him back. Surely, he would only lay into her a bit because “Best friends don’t leave each other on delivered for more than an hour. You know I break the rules just to message you back.”

Scratch that; he totally would lay into her.

The puff she let out was more than audible, and she swore the creaking in her bones was just as loud. Studying with work should be considered a sport. Her phone was cool to the touch, and as she had guessed, the male in question had sent her just about 5 messages for almost every single hour that had passed.

Reading his messages over, she couldn’t help but laugh loudly, thinking about the main vocalist tripping. At how she knew he’d tear the duo a new one just for bringing it up almost every couple minutes, thinking it was the funniest thing to date. The guilt was starting to eat at her for simply ignoring him.

09:16 a.m.: Y/N: wish me luck on my final 🤞 professor choi said it would be difficult as hell (not his exact words, but he was basically saying just that), so if i don’t ace this, blame my procrastination

09:17 a.m.: Minhyuk: i can just picture your face now, sweating and pulling that super weird and questionable face you do whenever you’re thinking too hard 😂

10:46 a.m.: Minhyuk: i purposely waited more than an hour. how did you do?

11:28 a.m.: Minhyuk: did you procrastinate so hard you died?

12.33 p.m.: Minhyuk: kihyun tripped down the stairs. me and hyungwon thought it was hilarious. imagine you messaged me back, and you could be laughing about it instead of me and him. you should be jealous of hyungwon

2:40 p.m. Minhyuk: earth to y/n?? i’m missing you! this is important

5:32 p.m. Minhyuk: i can’t believe procrastination took my best friend like this

The time was just shy of 8. She knew if he checked, he’d see she had read his messages and begin to think of a well-worded 5 paragraph essay as to why what she did was absolutely fucking rude. Deciding that rather than dealing with the bullet, she would try to avoid it.

7:56 p.m.: Y/N: don’t hate me…

7:56 p.m.: Y/N: i may have gotten dragged out with some friends from class to get “celebratory drinks”. believe me, i was going to message you back 🤗

She watched the message go from “delivered” to read in seconds. Her heart felt like a drum against her ribcage. Her eyes were glued to the screen like fresh glue. Like a child ready for her parents scolding, she waited with bated breath for his reply. The silence that stretched on was suffocating, the seconds ticking by like hours in her mind. She mentally composed a hundred excuses, each more dramatic and apologetic than the last, the nails of her free hand digging into the palm as she braced herself for the inevitable.

7:58 p.m.: Minhyuk: dragged out, huh? guess those drinks were more important than letting me know you’re alive

The words stung like salt on an open wound, a sharp contrast to his usual playful banter. She could practically hear his voice in the text, tinged with annoyance that didn’t quite mask the concern behind it. She cursed at her screen, mentally chastising herself for her thoughtlessness.

7:58 p.m.: Y/N: i’m so sorry minhyuk, today was a mess and i lost track of time. i didn’t mean to worry you or be rude

Her fingers hesitated over the send button before she finally pressed it, releasing a sigh that did nothing to ease the tension from her shoulders. She dared not to look away from the conversation, the panic turning her stomach into knots.

The dots appeared and disappeared, a sure sign he was typing, re-typing, his response proving he too was unsure of what to say. The wait was agonizing, her anticipation painted with shades of regret and anxiety. It was the kind of suspense that could only come from caring too much about someone’s opinion, about someone’s feelings.

8:00 p.m.: Minhyuk: you’re lucky i care enough not to stay mad at you. don’t do this again y/n, it’s not just me, okay? we all worry.

Reading his response, a mixture of relief and guilt washed over her. Relief that he hadn’t completely unleashed his frustration on her, and guilt that she had caused him to worry in the first place. The knots in her stomach began to loosen, albeit slowly, as a crescent of gratitude rose amid the chaos of her emotions.

8:00 p.m.: Minhyuk: how did you do on the test?

8:01 p.m.: Y/N: i think i passed? if i don’t pass, i’m going to my professor’s house and bitching him out. but since it’s all done now, i’ve been thinking about giving myself some self-care

8:02 p.m.: Minhyuk: like all those stupid videos you see?

Her thumbs hovered over the phone’s keyboard, the blue light casting ghostly shadows on her fingers. She drew in a breath as if about to dive underwater, aware that admitting her struggles to Minhyuk felt akin to exposing a vulnerability she often kept veiled.

8:03 p.m.: Y/N: yeah, something like that. finals really did a number on me. my shoulders are up to my ears in tension. could really use one of those self-care days.

She sent the message out into the void between them, a digital confession that carried more weight than the characters it was comprised of. Her phone was a lifeline, a barrier, and a bridge all at once. Her screen flickered with the indication that he was replying, and she felt her pulse escalate, the anticipation tantamount to the moments before a storm broke.

The typing indicator blinked. Then.. stopped. She couldn’t help the frown that crept onto her lips. Were her problems too trivial? Too human for the idol facade he often wore?

But then, almost teasingly, the typing resumed. Her heart danced to the rhythm of his unseen keystrokes, a delicate waltz of hope and anxiety.

8:05 p.m.: Minhyuk: i could come over? offer you some... exclusive minhyuk-brand self-care tips.

The message was light-hearted, a classic Minhyuk approach to her distress – humor laced with the promise of comfort. She couldn’t help the small smile that broke through, even as a blush warmed her cheeks.

8:06 p.m.: Y/N: oh? and what kind of self-care tips are those?

The faintest feeling of daring bubbled inside her. To flirt with the boundaries of their rapport seemed reckless, yet the adrenaline of it was intoxicating. Minhyuk’s reply didn’t come instantly this time, and the silence stretched just enough to fan the flames of her curiosity.

8:09 p.m.: Minhyuk: i could make you cum. i heard that’s a great way of relaxing and relieving tension.

The heat spread across her face way too fast for her liking. She knew Minhyuk. The man was often brutal when speaking honestly. Still, behind that brutal honesty, he was often gentle, a softness that he reserved for the quieter moments between them. It was that duality that had always drawn her to him, that fine line he walked between audacity and tenderness.

Y/N stared at the screen, the words blurring as her heart hammered. Was he serious? There was no way to gauge the sincerity of his tone through text. Still, a part of her, perhaps secretly hoping for a bit more than friendly banter, conjured up a thrilling image of him following through. In front of her, eating her out to relieve her stress. She swore he had talked about it before. Something about how Hoseok helped someone out and not in a work-friendly manner. Had he meant the same way?

She was about to type a response, her fingertips shaky with a mix of nerves and anticipation, when a new message popped up.

8:12 p.m.: Minhyuk: unless... you’re already thinking about it?

The playful tease was evident even through the digital text, and she stiffened, caught utterly off guard. Yes, she was thinking about it, but the fact that he could call her out so accurately sent a jolt through her. Her pulse raced, the mixture of embarrassment and excitement causing a delicious tension within her. She found herself at a crossroads of confusion and desire. Trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation, she decided to play along, if only to see where this would go.

8:12 p.m.: Y/N: idk, is that what you recommend to all your friends when they’re stressed?

Her response was nonchalant, an attempt to mirror his teasing while her mind whirred with the possibilities. She waited, breath held, for his answer, utterly unaware of how this conversation might change everything.

8:12 p.m.: Minhyuk: no, just you.

She could hear his voice in that message — low, teasing, and devastatingly focused — as if he were beside her. The notion sent a tremble through her body. Her phone seemed to burn her fingertips, a virtual representation of the invisible thread tugging them closer with each message sent.

8:13 p.m.: Y/N: and what if i were thinking about it? what then?

Her heart was pounding a staccato rhythm against her ribs. Each beat seemed to echo his name. She was playing with fire, and a part of her didn’t want to stop — couldn’t stop — even if she tried.

A pause lingered, almost too long, before his following message arrived, and it had her breath hitching in anticipation.

8:15 p.m.: Minhyuk: then i’d say we’re thinking about the same thing. i could be over in 10.

Her breath caught in a sharp inhale, a swirl of heat and butterflies erupting in her stomach. She’d known Minhyuk was bold, but this was uncharted territory. Each message was a step further into the unknown, and she wasn’t sure if her racing heart wanted him to slow down or to bridge the distance even faster.

8:16 p.m.: Y/N: you wouldn’t dare.

It was a challenge, the kind of throwdown she’d seen in the charged space between two people in movies, the type that always led to someone’s back pressed against a wall, breaths mingling, gazes locked. She was playing her part in their little game, the script being written in real-time.

8:17 p.m.: Minhyuk: try me.

And he added a winking emoji for good measure. A bold, ridiculous little symbol that shouldn’t have the power to increase her heart rate, but it did. It really did.

8:18 p.m.: Y/N: …

She was lost for words; the ellipsis was all she could manage as a flurry of thoughts bombarded her, each of them an image of possibility. Her body was alight with unsaid promises, every nerve ending buzzing as if the warmth of his tease had a tangible touch. The air felt charged around her, heavy with the electric potential of ‘what if.’ Was she ready for the ‘what if’ to become reality? The next few moments would tell.

8:18 p.m.: Minhyuk: say the word, and i’m there. i could have you cumming so hard you forget about that final. with my fingers, mouth, and cock.

The audacity of his words sent a jolt through her, a storm of heat and shivers cascading down her spine. She read his message once, twice, thrice, each word emblazoning itself into her mind, conjuring images more vivid than any fantasy she’d dared to entertain.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a dozen responses racing her mind. She knew Minhyuk, his sweet smirks, and the playful glint in his eye. But this was a new dance, where he was both the lead and the tempo, and she was swept up in the rhythm.

8:19 p.m.: Y/N: you talk a big game. what makes you think i’d want that?

It was a deflection, a coy invitation for him to prove his point, and part of her thrilled at the boldness of her own words. All around her, the room hummed with the tension of a prelude to something momentous.

Minhyuk replied quickly, stoking the embers that danced beneath her skin.

8:19 p.m.: Minhyuk: because i know you. because i’ve seen that look in your eyes that screams yes even when your lips are biting back the words. i’ve known you for years, y/n. i know what makes you tick. i just don’t say anything.

Her heart was soaring and plummeting all at once, caught between nerves and an exhilarating sense of inevitability. Minhyuk was as deft with his textual innuendos as he was with every other facet of their relationship — constantly pushing, always knowing just how far to go.

8:20 p.m.: Y/N: if i say the word... do you promise to keep yours?

She was still questioning, still testing the waters, but the thrum of excitement in her blood was yielding to the magnetic pull of his promise. There was a potent sense of surrender threading through her words, a submission to the torrential desire she could no longer deny.

8:21 p.m.: Minhyuk: i keep my promises. always. especially to you.

That was all it took. She sat, heart racing, a cacophony of longing ringing loud in the quiet of her room, and she realized she wanted the reality far more than the fantasy.

8:22 p.m.: Y/N: come over.

Sent.

The word lingered on the screen, heavy with implication and as momentous as crossing a threshold. As the message —come over — fades from the screen, Minhyuk feels a surge of exhilaration pulse through his veins. His heart drummed a rapid beat, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips, one of anticipation and victory mixed with a raw desire he’s only ever shown to her.

8:23 p.m.: Minhyuk: i’ll be there in 10. get ready for me.

Sent.

The words, simple yet laden with his intent, dart through the digital space — a promise swiftly turning into a plan of action. He grabs his keys, phone, and composure — though the last seems fragile, like a thin veneer over the tumultuous wave of want coursing through him.

Meanwhile, her palms press into the plush fabric of the couch, her breaths coming out in short, deliberate gusts. Her eyes dart to the door and then to the phone. A carousel of feelings spins within her: excitement, trepidation, desire, doubt. One moment, she feels a giddy joy bubble up from her stomach; the next, nail-biting anxiety clenches at her throat.

She gets up, paces, and sits back down. The room feels smaller, as if the walls are inching closer with each second that ticks by. Cracks of light from the fading evening stretch across the floor, painting elongated shadows that mimic her tangled emotions.

8:25 p.m.: Y/N: okay, i’ll be waiting.

A part of her wonders at her own audacity. How easy it was to type those words, yet how profound the impact. It’s a seismic shift, an invisible line crossed, the soft click of a door unlocking — whatever it may be, their relationship won’t be the same after tonight.

She lights a candle, the flicker of the flame casting a warm glow in the living room. It’s a vain attempt at nonchalance as if to say, ‘I do this all the time,’ when, in fact, her heart’s racing like it’s her first-ever date. Her mind plays and replays the possible scenarios, each as vivid and nerve-wracking as the last. Then, she blows it out. Her mind going a mile a minute. This was probably just going to be a quick fuck session. Nothing more.

And then, as the minute hand inches obligingly towards the half-hour mark, every nerve in her body seems to stand on edge, her senses heightened to the rapid-fire staccato of her heartbeat. It is equally the most terrifying and exciting countdown.

Three heavy and loud knocks greet her once-silent apartment. The knocks seem to reverberate throughout her apartment, a thunderous declaration that shatters the quiet anticipation. She freezes, every muscle coiled with an energy akin to the electric charge of a brewing storm. The moment she’s been swinging between dread and desire is now palpable, as imminent as the next breath.

Time seems to stretch these seconds to minutes as she gathers the courage to pad across the hardwood floor. She feels every fiber in the woven rug underfoot, every whisper of the evening air that sneaks through the cracks of her haven. With each step, her heart is both a traitor and an ally, pounding against her chest in nervous fervor.

Her hand hesitates briefly at the door handle, a transitional talisman that stands between what was and what could be. The cool metal sears her skin, starkly contrasting the warmth flooding her veins. She’s vulnerable, exposed, and yet the thrill of it sets her alight — a moth to flame, a siren to the sea.

Swallowing the tightly bunched nerves in her throat, she flings the door open with a quiet determination. It’s her choice, her call to make.

And there he is — Minhyuk — looking every bit the tempest she feels inside. His eyes are hooded, heavy with a desire that mirrors her own, and his lips part slightly, as if every breath he takes is borrowed, meant for this moment alone. His hair is a charming disarray, a testament to the fingers that have raked through it in impatience, want, or both.

His gaze latches onto hers immediately, an invisible yet unbreakable link snapping taut between them. He wastes no time and no words. As if pulled by an irresistible force, he steps into her apartment, closing the space that had stretched unfathomable just seconds ago. With a surety that only Minhyuk possesses, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close.

Everything in her screams to melt into him, into the kiss they’ve both implicitly promised each other through screens and silent longings. Her lips part in an intake of breath, a silent invitation.

He meets her halfway, and the kiss is a collision of every unsaid confession, every smoldering glance, every midnight thought. It consumes her, a fire that she’s stoked with every heart race, every blush, every time she dared to look at him and see more than just her best friend.

He nudges her towards the couch, his fingers gripping her hip as she sinks down onto its cushions. Her eyes lock onto his, desire smoldering beneath her gaze. He moves in closer, tracing the curve of her neck with his lips as he inches lower, his hand sliding up her thigh. She gasps as his fingers brush against her damp underwear, her body arching into his touch. His lips find hers, their kiss deepening as his hand works its way inside her panties, stroking her already swollen core.

“Fuck,” he whispers against her mouth, “you’re wet.”

She moans softly, unable to tear her eyes away from his as he slowly pulls down her panties and tosses them aside. He kneels between her legs, running his tongue along the length of her slit before plunging it deep inside her tight heat. She bucks against him, crying out in pleasure as he thrusts his tongue in and out of her hungrily. His fingers find their way back to her clit, circling it expertly as he sucks harder on her folds.

She’s never felt anything like this before; he knows exactly how to drive her wild with need. And how he looks at her — like she’s something precious yet completely surrendered — makes her heart race and throb between her legs.

“Soon, you’ll be forgetting all about that final while I make you cum over and over again. How do you want to cum the first time? With my mouth or fingers?”

The sound of his voice sends chills down her spine. She can feel his hot breath on her pussy, his tongue dancing over her sensitive nub. Her eyes roll back in pleasure as she responds, “Fingers, please.”

With a smirk, he removes his fingers from her dripping pussy and starts massaging her clit, using his thumb to apply pressure and flick it gently. She squirms and whimpers, desperate for release.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, a voice full of taunting innocence.

“No! Please don’t stop,” she pleads, her eyes squeezed shut.

Satisfied, he continues his assault on her clit until she’s writhing in ecstasy, begging him to finger her. He smiles wickedly, knowing he has complete control over her.

“Please finger me. I need it so bad,” she begs, her voice hoarse with need.

He chuckles darkly and leans in close to whisper in her ear. “Of course, princess. Whatever you want.”

With that, he slides two fingers inside her tight pussy, curling them up to hit her G-spot just right. She cries out in pleasure, her body shaking as he pumps his fingers in and out of her. He adds a third finger, stretching her wider and hitting deeper. She moans louder, her hips bucking wildly against his hand.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” he teases, his voice low and gravelly.

She nods frantically, unable to speak through the waves of pleasure washing over her. He grins and increases the pace of his fingers, rubbing her clit with his thumb. She cries out again, her entire body tightening as she reaches the brink of orgasm.

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he growls, his voice filled with possessiveness.

She gives in, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. She comes hard, screaming his name as her entire body shakes and trembles. He keeps pumping his fingers, letting her ride her orgasm out. Her breathing was heavy as she tried to catch her breath. He allowed it only for a moment, letting out a gasp as his mouth replaced his fingers.

“I told you I’m going to make you cum with my mouth. I need to taste you.”

Her body quivered and shook as his tongue danced along her clit. Her hands tangled themselves in his hair, holding him closer. His tongue was relentless. He sucked hard, licking faster, flicking her clit harder and harder. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to another orgasm. His fingers slid inside her once more, and he began to pump them in and out of her, his tongue still working overtime on her clit. The sensation was too much. She screamed out his name and came hard once again.

With a savage growl, he buried his face between her trembling thighs, his tongue lashing out at her swollen clit with unrestrained hunger, wanting to get another orgasm from her. She gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair as he devoured her pussy like a starving man. His tongue danced and flicked, tracing wet circles around her sensitive bud before sucking it hard into his mouth.

“Fuck, yes,” she moaned, grinding her hips against his face. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”

He growled again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body as he doubled down on his assault. His fingers slid inside her, pumping in and out with an almost brutal intensity. She could feel herself tightening around him, her orgasm building like wildfire.

“You like that, baby?” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“God, yes,” she whimpered, her fingers digging into his scalp. “More, give me more.”

He chuckled darkly, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers pumping harder. She could feel her legs shaking, her body trembling with the effort of holding on. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, she shattered.

“Oh, fuck!” she screamed, her back arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working her through her orgasm until she was boneless and spent.

“Is that so?” he replied, his voice husky with desire, his brow raised in surprise, a smirk pulling at his lips.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “I want you to take me,” she said, her voice low and seductive. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

Without another word, he rose from the couch and pulled her towards him. Their lips crashed together in a feverish kiss as he guided her towards the bedroom. They stumbled through the door, their hands frantically tugging at each other’s clothes until they were both naked and pressed against the bed.

He pushed her onto the soft mattress, his body covering hers as he claimed her lips once more. She moaned into his mouth as he trailed kisses down her neck, his hands roaming over her body with possessive hunger.

“You asked for it,” he said, his voice barely audible. He growled, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance.

And then he was inside her, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into his back as he began to move. He fucked her hard and fast, his hips slamming into hers with bruising force. She could feel every inch of him, his cock hitting her in just the right spot.

“Harder,” she begged, her voice breathless. “Fuck me harder. I want you to keep your promise to me.”

He growled, his fingers tightening on her hips as he complied. She could feel herself building again, her orgasm coiling in her belly like a spring. And then, with one final thrust, he sent her over the edge.

“Oh, God!” she screamed, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. He followed her over, his own orgasm tearing through him like a storm.

When it was over, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. “Fuck. That was good.”

“I aim to please,” he said, his voice smug. He then chuckled, his hand stroking her hair.

“You’re insufferable,” she said, but her tone was affectionate. Rolling her eyes, a soft chuckle left her lips as she turned to look at him. At that moment, they felt like lovers. Not two best friends who had probably just broken so many rules and fucked. That was perhaps the first rule as best friends. Not fuck. “Min, can I ask you something?”

Silence filled the room—a loaded, thickening quiet pressed against their skin even as they basked in the afterglow of their indiscretion. The sheets clung to their intertwined limbs, a shroud of evidence to the line they had just obliterated.

“Yeah, anything,” he responded, still close enough that his breath danced across her skin.

Her voice, when it next came, was a poignant mix of vulnerability and resolve. “Minhyuk, what does this mean for us? We’ve just tangled everything up, and I can’t... I can’t just pretend we can go back to how things were.”

He felt the weight of her question settle over his chest, heavier than her hand had been moments before. Averting his gaze, he reached for levity in a situation that felt dangerously close to shifting their worlds. “Before we get into that, have you considered what you’re doing this summer? Maybe a trip somewhere could clear our heads.”

The light swat to his chest was a rebuke, her expression earnest and searching. “Seriously, Minhyuk. We can’t just ignore this.”

“You’re right,” he conceded, his voice touched by a seriousness mirrored her own. He sighed, feeling the tension in the air wraps around them tight. “We can’t. So here’s the truth — I don’t have all the answers. But I know that whatever we’ve done or will do, I don’t want to lose you, not as my friend, not as... this. Whatever this is.”

She let the silence fill the room for a beat. Unsure of their next actions. She just fucked her best friend. Her best friend of 5 years. The man who comforted her during her heartbreaks, made her laugh when she was at her lowest, the man who knew her family so well. And she loved it.

Hell, she loved him.

“We could be friends with benefits.” Throwing the idea out there was just as risky as him leaving her apartment and blocking her number once he realized that this was fucked and should’ve never happened. But she was greedy - far too greedy for her to admit. She would rather pass away than see Minhyuk with someone. And she’s been around him for a long time to see how well he can treat someone he loves. She wants that. “Or not. We can just act like this didn’t happen.”

Her heart was a thunderous echo against her ribs as she waited for his reaction. The words hung there, suspended, a proposal that felt like the edge of a precipice. Fear twisted inside her; images of him pulling away, of a frayed friendship, flashed in her mind.

Minhyuk was silent. His eyes, dark pools of thought, fixed on her face as if trying to read the story written in her expectant gaze. Time crawled, a slow tick in an otherwise frozen room.

And then, finally, he exhaled. “Okay.”

Her breath hitched. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, the corner of his lips tilting into a half-smile of bemused acceptance. “We can try it. Friends with benefits.”

She nearly choked on her relief. But her heart was still a galloping stallion; this was uncharted territory.

“But if we’re doing this,” Minhyuk continued, suddenly practical in the midst of their emotional tempest, “we need rules. We must be on the same page about everything to protect... this.” He gestured between them, the fragile, precious thing that was their friendship.

Her mind raced, and yet, she was hit by the sudden gravity of their decision. “Rules,” she echoed, the word bringing a semblance of safety amidst the chaos of their desire. “Rules. Okay.”

“We respect each other, always,” he started, the serious hue returning to his voice. “And if one of us starts feeling more, we talk about it—no ghosting, no pretending. Nobody can know. This is between us. Someone might complicate things. Lastly, if either of us finds someone…” He paused, his eyes searching her room before landing on her again. Clearing his throat, he continues, “We stop this. We go back to being just best friends.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of their pact settle in. “And we end things if it’s too much.”

They both knew the stakes, the gamble, but in that moment, cloaked in the night’s embrace, it seemed possible to preserve their bond while exploring these new, thrilling dynamics.

“Deal,” she whispered, a pact sealed with a mixture of anxiety and exhilaration.

The new agreement hummed between them, electric and alive. They were venturing into a maelstrom, two friends teetering on the cusp of something more, grasping at rules in a game where the heart was the ultimate prize.

“Deal.”

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #monsta x imagines #monsta x x reader #monsta x fluff #minhyuk x reader #minhyuk imagines #minhyuk imagine #monsta x smut #minhyuk smut

129 notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Note

Hi K! Congrats on the milestone! I would love to see what you do with this:

"Please stop talking." with Tommy.

Can't wait to read it!

Hi Karissa! Thanks so much for sending this in! I hope you like what I’ve done here! Sorry it took a bit for me to write. I’m not sure if anyone’s even interested in these blurbs anymore, but I’m going to write them because people requested them. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Some of Us Aren’t

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, smoking

Word Count: 843

Summary: Tommy and (Y/N) clash over Tommy’s most recent business decision.

“So you went and did it, huh?” (Y/N) didn’t even bother knocking on the door of her husband’s office before she opened it, storming into the room with an intensity that she only reserved for serious situations.

Tommy didn’t look up at first. Instead he went about capping his pen and tossing it to the side, his eyebrows raised as he tried to curb his annoyance. This was not what he needed at the moment. But he knew that he wouldn’t be going back to work any time soon.

“Did what?” he asked cooly as he finally looked up to see her standing in front of his desk with a pointed look on her face and her hands on her hips.

“You fucking know what, Thomas,” she sneered at him. He looked at her expectantly, his eyebrows raised as to say “I’m waiting” as he rested his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands together. (Y/N) wanted to slap the look off of his face. “You went ahead and agreed to work with the Russians,” she spelled it out for him.

“I did,” he stayed curt, not denying her accusation.

“Polly told you not to,” she shot back.

“I chose not to listen to Polly,” he was still level with her.

“I told you not to. And you better not say that you chose not to listen to me,” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, getting that second sentence in before he was able to give her another one of his blunt comebacks.

Tommy paused for a moment, eyeing his wife up and down. The frustration was practically radiating off of her at this point. He needed to pick his battle here. He took a deep breath and slowly brought his eyes back up to match hers. “This move will be good for the business,” he then told her, an air of absoluteness present in his words. This matter was not up for discussion.

But (Y/N) was never one to stop herself from voicing her disagreement with Tommy’s ideas. “Like hell it won’t!” she exclaimed. “You’ve decided to go and make this move without consulting any of the other people invested in the business. What happened to having a meeting and talking things through? Huh?!”

“Please stop talking,” he interjected, keeping his voice level in hopes that his head would stay with it.

“Oh but you knew that it’d get shot down, didn’t you?” (Y/N) just kept on going, narrowing her eyes at him, “you knew that everyone else would see the situation for what it is, so that’s why you decided to steamroll it forward.”

Tommy took another deep breath and let it out in a huff. He grabbed his tin of cigarettes and pulled one out, rolling it between his lips before he lit it and took a deep drag. “Arthur’s on board with it,” he then commented nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh at the statement. “Arthur will always go along with you. He’s practically your ‘yes man’, Tommy,” she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest as a way to say ‘you’ve got to do better than that’.

He made sure to set his glasses down on the desk before he stood from the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood before placing his palms flat on the desk. They stared at each other for a moment before he spoke. “Have you got a better idea?” he countered, his brows raising as he looked her with wide eyes, “eh?”

(Y/N) bit on her lip as she held her husband’s stare. Her mind was full of the things she wanted to say to him about this terrible move that he’d made, but there was nothing that she could offer up as an option to be done instead.

Tommy noticed this almost instantly. “There’s a reason why I have the final say over what this company does; over who it works with, love,” he began, speaking slowly so that she would hear him clearly. “I consider every fucking option and avenue to take before choosing one. What they’re offering is something we’ve never come close to before. I have a plan.”

“I fear that one day your plan will not go as you hope it does…and then this business, and your life, will be destroyed, and it will all be because you decided to make a move without consulting the others in making that plan,” (Y/N) laid out her worries, not quite ready to accept the fact that this matter was not at all up for discussion. But no matter what she said, Tommy wasn’t going to be changing his mind…that was written all over his face.

“I’m prepared for it if that day were to come,” he kept his response brief.

“Yeah? Well, some of us aren’t,” she responded in a bitter tone, glaring at him and his stubbornness before she sharply turned to exit his office.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

380 notes · View notes

hihigherdi · 12 days ago

Text

When I was at the Al Brooks talk, I kept thinking about how much I loved writing when I was younger, when I first got here to San Francisco. I have so many stories from the different retail places I’ve worked – Nordstrom, Microsoft, where I am now - where I climbed and then fell off the corporate ladders year after year while going to therapy to deal with all of the personal stuff that the jobs surfaced

I might drop a few entries here of that old writing stuff as I think about what could be new.

Love is the Elixir

He came well recommended though he lived in the country. My friends and I share a prejudice regarding rural America, we’re too cynical to appreciate its undiscovered charms. Sure, we like the ponies and the idea of antiquing but when you haul that stuff back to the house? All you really have is an old busted up bench that’s really uncomfortable. Where I’m from, everybody knows that the best part of small towns is the hope that you’ll come across a rogue A&W so you can drink the perfect root beer float. As with most small towns, the road turned into more roads and suddenly, I was there.

You’d think a therapist’s office in the country would at least have some kind of white picket fence. Maybe one of those Desidrata welcome mats or a winsome little sign on a wooden door that said “We’re just two chickens clucking around”.

I’m nervous even writing this.

But instead I was greeted by a pasture filled with Longhorn cattle, the kind that seems to only live in Texas or a Chuck Norris film. You know – America. But seriously, Longhorn cattle? In my therapeutic experience? That was unexpected. I parked my little city slicker car so terribly out of place, wandered up to the fence and eye-balled a big male. It was a “he” based on the size of its…hooves. It lumbered over and eye-balled me right back.

Hello cow.

I knew he probably deserved a more majestic greeting but my whispered hi there was further indictment of why I was there in the first place (I had no opening lines with males of any kind).

I tentatively opened up the little country door to the little country house. A deafening wave of classical music coming from upstairs hit me square in the face from a room somewhere upstairs. It was the music that someone who had to sit on the other side of other peoples’ crazy needs to absorb between appointments. I felt guilty that we put him through it.

I waited in the obligatory little room where people like me wait. Leather-bound books and a cozy chair that felt like it had been born there. And a poster that simply read “Love is the Elixir of the Universe.” While I sunk into the chair and silently panicked, a little Corgi waddled her way inside. I stroked her back, admired her little belly and told her so. Feeling my heart slow just a little. Would I still have need of a therapist had I invested in a dog two years ago? What about a cat? A bird would have sent me there years earlier, I knew that much.

The music stopped. A disembodied voice cut through the silence and called for me without using my name. One part Indian, one part British all the rest of it weary. I’d been rejected by enough men to know he didn’t want me there which was fine, fuck you Mr.Tired Voice, I didn’t exactly want to be there either.

He was an old man. Surprisingly little. Glasses. Bare feet. God. Bare feet, come on.

He sat in his chair. I sat in the couch. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say hello. Just started writing on a note pad. We sat there for a good minute or two in total silence. If someone could have harnessed my nervous energy a few more polar bears would be alive today. Did you read the Wall Street Journal article suggesting that nervous energy is extremely productive? It can create things like biodegradable fuel that people outside of Berkeley actually care about and save animals that are extinct. Maybe you’re reading this, you’re smart enough to make that happen and you just haven’t because you’re nervous but you’re lazy. Do you feel badly now that you know you could have done something for the bears? If not you should, you really should.

Why are you here.

I’m here to let go of a relationship I never really had that may have wrecked me.

So you’re crazy then.

(Go to hell you elitist, classical music-listening, cotton shirt-wearing, creepy barefoot longhorn cattle-owning clearly height compensating narcissist.)

Well it feels that way sometimes. But I don’t want to be.

What happens if you really are wrecked.

At least I’ll know. That has to be good. It’s the not knowing that’s hard.

But don’t you already know?

(Jesus asked, Do you really want to get well?)

I suppose I do. I guess I want to be something more than wrecked from someone who should have never wrecked me in the first place.

Will you tell the truth?

Yes. (too quick)

…I don’t think I know how.

So you’re a liar.

(He SEES. Get out. Make him like you. But he won’t. He sees you.)

I don’t have much to lose so I guess I will. It’s weird how long it took to get here, how tightly one can cling to something that doesn’t even exist, that’s all in my head but false hope seems to be postponed grief. So yes, I’ll be honest. Maybe it’s easy to be honest when one is at the bottom of things.

Is that it?

Is what it?

Silence.

What are you afraid of most?

That I’ll charm you and you won’t be able to see me and I will leave with the relief of knowing that I’ve fooled you like I’ve fooled everybody else. And the despair of knowing that I did.

You know all that is up to you.

That’s what scares me the most.

It should.

I may not be ready for this. I may not be capable.

No one ever is. Isn’t that beautiful.

22 notes · View notes

rubyreduji · 2 years ago

Text

Failing Grades — csc

summary: when you first walked into professor choi’s class, this is not where you were expecting it to go (professor choi and y/n’s beginning)

tags: smut (minors dni!), college!au, professor!seungcheol warnings: explicit unprotected sex, age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, praise, oral (m. receiving) wc: 2.6k an: giving the people what they want (may be the last one though bc honestly i don’t know how invested i am in this series anymore im sorry ahfdkla)

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

When you first walked into your Intro to Biology class you weren’t expecting much. Why would you? It’s a required course that you have to take to get your degree and as long as you get a passing grade you’ll be fine.

The first thing you noticed when you walked in was that your professor wasn’t in the room, but his things were. A tweed jacket was draped over the back of the chair behind the desk and you sighed to yourself. Another old man professor who’s going to yell at you all semester. Great.

You looked around the room to see there’s only a couple seats left, near the front. You guess that’s what you got for getting to class a minute before it started. You reluctantly took your seat and glanced at the door. Right as you looked over, the door swung open and in walked the most handsome man you had ever seen.

He had raven black hair that was styled neatly out of his face and full lips that were a tempting pink color. He looked to be middle aged and was wearing a white button up shirt and tweed pants to match the jacket on the chair. You could see the outline of his muscles through the material of his shirt. This guy was your professor? Holy shit.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he walked over to the board and scrawled his name across the board in neat handwriting.

“Welcome to Introduction to Biology. My name is Professor Choi, and I’ll be your instructor for the next fifteen weeks. Now let’s get started.”

You couldn’t pay attention the whole class, instead just staring at your professor the whole time. You couldn’t get over his good looks. His strong facial features and his large hands and his piercing eyes. So maybe you weren’t able to answer any of the questions he asked you, it really wasn’t your fault that he was just so…distracting.

Even three weeks later, it’s still not your fault that you can’t pay attention in class due to your gazing at him. You can barely even listen to what he’s telling you now, as you sit in his office after you failed your first big test for his class.

“Miss L/N, are you even paying attention to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, yes I am.” You’re paying attention to him, just not in the way he wants you to. “I just don’t get the material. Maybe it’s the way you teach it or-”

“Is there something wrong with the way I teach?” Professor Choi's eyebrow goes up and you have to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together.

“No, no! I’m just saying maybe if I got some extra help or-”

“That’s what you need, is it Miss L/N?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve been caught up in a situation with your professor like this. It’s not uncommon for Professor Choi to talk to you after class about one of your assignments or the way you blatantly don’t take notes and keep spacing off. This is the first time he’s ever called you to his office though.

“Biology is just hard for me and it doesn’t help I keep getting distracted and so maybe I need a tutor or-”

“What’s been distracting you, Miss L/N?” He keeps cutting you off, but you can’t find it annoying because his voice is just so goddamn sexy. It also drives you crazy the way he calls you Miss L/N, in more ways than one.

You pause, trying to think of a good enough lie but then his eyes pierce into you and you can’t help but let it all out. “You have! How can I learn about genes and whatever, when you’re walking around the lecture hall looking like some sex god.”

“...Sex god?”

“Oh no.” You automatically hide your face behind your hands. “I just mean- I’m- fuck. Please don’t fail me.”

Professor Choi is quiet for a moment but you can’t focus on what he’s doing when your heart is beating a hundred miles per hour in your chest and your eyes are starting to water up with tears.

“You’re close enough to failing due to your own volition, you don’t have to worry about me failing you,” Professor Choi finally speaks up. “I don’t like seeing my students fail, Miss L/N, so perhaps you are correct, maybe you do need some extra help.”

“Professor Choi…?”

“I like you Y/N, you’re a good kid, so let’s strike a deal.”

“W-what kind of deal?” You don’t miss the way he referred to you by your first name.

“I’ll regrade your test, and in return you do something for me.” Your professor’s voice drops low as he finishes his sentence. Your face heats up at the implications. Before you can respond, Professor Choi continues. “If you do not see this solution fit, I’ll set you up with a tutor I have on hand and you can retake the test.”

“N-no Professor, I think that your, uhm, solution should work for me.” You don’t actually know what he means by “do something for him”. In all honesty this could just mean you run his errands for him when you’re not in class, but something is compelling you to say yes to him.

Professor Choi stands up from behind his desk and takes his jacket off. You stare at him as he does, your eyes trailing over his form. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you, staring down at you like you’re his next meal.

“You are one hundred percent sure, Miss L/N?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life before, Sir.” You take note of the way Professor Choi reacts to being called sir.

“Good. Now get on your knees for me like a good girl would.” The tone of his voice changes as he commands you and it goes right to your core.

“Yes Professor -”

Suddenly your chin is being grabbed and a thumb is pulling down on your lower lip. “Call me Seungcheol.” You nearly cum right there.

All you can do is nod, speechless, as you sink down onto your knees in front of your professor. In front of Seungcheol.

He slowly undoes his belt before unbuttoning his pants. He takes his time unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out from its restraints. The wait is driving you crazy, thinking about how you’re about to suck the sexiest man alive’s cock. Your pussy has been wet ever since Seungcheol called you into his office after class, but now you’re soaked.

You shift a bit on your knees before going totally still at the sight of Seungcheol’s hardened cock. It’s long and thick and his tip is an angry red, already slightly sheen from precum.

Your mouth is slightly opened out of shock and Seungcheol takes the opportunity to press his tip up against your lips. This kicks you out of your trance and you’re quick to wrap your lips around his tip, sucking and licking at the head of his cock.

Above you, you can hear the way Seungcheol’s breathing stutters for a moment from the acceptance of his cock into your mouth. You slowly add more of him into your mouth until almost your entire mouth is full of him. You make sure to incorporate all of your best dick sucking tips, using every bit of your lips and tongue you can.

Without thinking much your hands reach up to grab the rest of Seungcheol’s cock that doesn’t fit into your mouth. You can barely focus on the obscene sounds your mouth is making, too focused on making Seungcheol feel good.

It isn’t until you feel fingers carding through your hair that you glance up Seungcheol, mouth still full of cock. “You’re doing so good for me, taking my cock like the pretty little slut you are. How about you let me take though.”

You nod the best you can, but Seungcheol seems to get the message and is quick to shove your face farther into him, your nose burying itself into the dark coarse hairs on his pelvis. You gag a bit at the forcefulness of his cock shoving deep down your throat, but you do your best to regain your composure.

Seungcheol doesn’t stop there though, yanking your head back only to thrust right into you again. Your hands fly up to grab Seungcheol’s hips, the purpose more to steady yourself than slow the man down. Your mouth waters up with saliva as Seungcheol continues to fuck your mouth at a brutual pace.

You’ve sucked cock before, of course, but never one that was as large as Seungcheol’s. You can feel the way his tip presses against the back of your throat and you have to remind yourself to breathe through your nose so you don’t choke. You’ve also never sucked a dick that was attached to someone who had such a commanding presence as Seungcheol. Your pussy clenches at the way your professor’s fingers dig into your hair, guiding your head along his length.

“If only you were as good at biology as you are at taking cock. Then again if you were, we wouldn't be in this situation now would we? It’s okay, gorgeous, I think I like you like this better anyways.”

You whine at Seungcheol’s words. You can’t help but relish in the praise being laid on by your professor. You can’t count the number of times you went home after his class to jack off to the idea of this very moment.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol growls. “Cumming.”

That’s the only warning you get before warm, thick cum is being spurted into your mouth and sliding down your throat. You do your best to catch it all, but you still end up with some of it running down your chin, mixed with your saliva.

Seungcheol pulls out of your mouth and stares down at you as you take a moment to finally breathe properly again. Your professor grabs a tissue and wipes your chin off for you and you can’t help but think how it’s sort of a sweet gesture.

“Do you need a break, or can I bend you over my desk and fuck you right now?” You shiver at the way he’s so transparent.

“Fuck me. Please, right now. I need it,” you beg. Your pussy is aching with a need to be filled and fucked that can only be satisfied by one man.

Seungcheol helps you to your feet only to push you down over his desk a second later.

“God, you’re perfect. I’ve never seen anyone as perfect as you before doll. You’ve driven me crazy since the first time I saw you in class, sitting in the front row staring at me the whole lecture. Should have known you wanted to fuck me the moment I caught you staring at my ass.”

As Seungcheol talks his hands run over your body, awaking goosebumps on your skin. His hands finally slide down to your hips and he pushes down your skirt and panties in one swoop, leaving your bottom bare to the room. Seungcheol’s hands knead at the soft flesh of your ass before he lifts his palm and brings it right back down in a loud crack.

You let out a strangled yelp and your pussy clenches at the feeling. Seungcheol chuckles to himself at his own actions. His fingers reach between your legs and drag over your slit, collecting the slick that has accumulated there.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet for me. I bet I could just slide right in, you needy little thing.”

“Please, please do. I need you. Daddy please,” you whine. It isn’t until the words are out of your mouth that you realize what you said. You’re about to take it back when Seungcheol starts talking again.

“Daddy? Heh, you naughty girl. Call me that when you cream all over my cock, okay?” With that Seungcheol’s cock pushes into your entrance and you let out a high pitched moan from the back of your throat.

Seungcheol’s grip on your hips is tight as he pushes your hips forward and back into him. His hips snap to the rhythm he’s set and your mind goes numb at the feeling. You can’t think of anything else besides Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol.

Your fingers dig into the edge of the desk as Seungcheol’s cock digs deeper and faster into you. You can’t do much but just lay there and moan as Seungcheol continues to fuck you, flooding your sense with nothing but pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you baby girl? You like how daddy’s cock fills you up nice and deep.”

“Yes daddy! I love it,” you cry.

Seungcheol’s hand drags down your spin and you arch your back at his touch, whining as he does. Seungcheol chuckles again, pleased with your reaction.

“Pretty girls, with nice tight cunts. You’re the best of the best doll.” You can barely even react to what Seungcheol is saying anymore, too blissed out to focus properly. Seungcheol’s hand smacks your ass again and your pussy clenches down around him. “Fuck, don’t do that or I’ll cum. Would you like that? If I came inside of you?”

“Yes, please. Please cum in me daddy, I want it. I need it.”

“God, you really are the goodest girl. But if you want me to cum inside of you, you have to cum first, okay baby girl.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Seungcheol reaches around you and his fingertips connect to your clit. They rub at you in rhythm to his thrusts and you want nothing but to stay like this forever.

You can feel your resolve starting to break as you get closer and closer to your climax. Your legs start to shake and before you can even warn Seungcheol, your pussy is clamping down on him as you hit your high. You can’t do more than let out breathy moans as Seungcheol works you through your high.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish as well, releasing him cum into you as you lay sprawled out on his desk. You whine when you feel him pull out, sad to experience the empty feeling of not having his cock in you anymore.

You can’t move a bone, but you can hear Seungcheol walking around his office. It isn’t until you feel him wiping you down and pulling your skirt and panties back up that you realize what he’s doing. When you finally sit up, Seungcheol is standing there with a water bottle held out to you.

“T-thank you,” you stutter before taking the water bottle and downing half of it in one go. “For uhm, all of it.”

“I’ll see that your grade is changed to something passable,” Seungcheol tells you as he leans against his desk.

“Professor- I mean, Seungcheol, sir. I just was thinking that you know, I’m really bad at biology and I’ll need a lot of help so maybe we could…do this again?”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment like he’s thinking over his answer. “I think we can make an arrangement.” You’re about to celebrate when Seungcheol opens his mouth again. “On one condition though.”

“What’s the condition, sir?”

“May I kiss you?”

It’s framed as a question, giving you an out if you wanted. You don’t. Instead you just lean over and press your lips against his. He brings his hand up to the back of your neck and deepens the kiss. Your lips slot together perfectly and you can’t help but think it’s a sign. A sign that this was meant to be.

Who knows, maybe something good could come out of this other than just a passing grade.

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @coupsgyus @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @niktwazny303 @y0lkz @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @wonchansbrooklynn @luvthatleader-nim @cbgisland @lorde-oftherings @hoeforcheol @prpldahy @bymjview

join my taglist: here!

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol #scoups #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #svt seungcheol #svt scoups #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #rru.fics #rru.requests #rru.writes #★ mdni

781 notes · View notes