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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Side Effects | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: you never know what might be in the beakers at another chemist's station. you never know which of your colleagues might come along just in the knick of time to become the only antidote to your affliction.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut! (dub con due to sex pollen), semi-public sex (because technically someone could have walked by but unlikely), guilt/hesitance, kinda pining??, fingering, creampie,

a/n: yes, this is an accurate depiction of emergency shower protocol in a chemical lab and yes it is every lab technician's worst nightmare. thankfully the other stuff is not an accurate depiction of any known chemical, lol.

You wiped your forehead with a tired sigh, staring down at the calculations in front of you before using your pen to scribble over them before tearing out the page and throwing it away.

“You still do that by hand?” Bruce interjected, making you look up at where he was leaning in the doorway to the lab, watching you work.

“Oh, Dr. Banner!” you greeted with a smile, wondering if it was too ecstatic. You weren’t so good at the ‘playing it cool’ thing like he seemed to be.

“We have all those fancy screens and digital whiteboards, you know,” he explained as he stepped in and looked around at your work. “Not to mention the computer can do that stuff for you.”

“I know,” you scoffed, “but I always feel better doing it myself, on real paper. Not that I’m having any luck at the moment…”

"Here, I'll give them a quick look while you take a break," he offered, glancing at the numbers from over your shoulder. "You just get up and stretch your legs for a minute, doc."

You always thought it was sort of silly for him to call you that when he was a doctor as well, but you didn't complain.

Regardless, you were about to tell him that it was fine and you didn't need a break, but he was leaning in closer to take your seat and the proximity was so intimidating that you hopped up and went along with it anyways. He sat down and pondered your calculations while you circled the lab, taking a moment to appreciate how nice it felt to stand up and move around after sitting for so long.

"Your handwriting is…" Bruce trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

"Feminine and graceful?" you finished sarcastically.

"Sure," he chuckled.

"Yeah, just like me—" you started to quip, but mid-sentence you (ironically) stumbled and tripped, using a nearby table to catch yourself— but you accidentally grabbed onto a beaker, which tipped over and smashed onto the ground. The liquid inside spilled onto the floor just before you did, and you winced as you fell into the puddle of the unknown substance.

“Shit!” you hissed as you scrambled to get up, looking down at your clothes and seeing they were covered in the fluid, which was beginning to evaporate, or steam, or something. Remembering lab safety protocols, you instantly began to strip, closing your eyes and wishing Bruce hadn’t come in just before this. As you shirked your lab coat, shirt, and skirt, you walked to the emergency shower, pulling the lever and gasping when the chilly stream of water poured down on you. Bruce looked at you with wide eyes before being kind enough to turn around as you shivered and removed your bra and underwear, now completely naked and weakly scrubbing yourself with your hands in hopes that none of the chemical had gotten onto your skin.

“What is it?” he asked nervously, turning his head back enough that you could hear him over the flow of water, but hopefully not so much that he could see anything important.

“I don’t know,” you answered, “it’s not mine. It’s something Dr. Sutherland was working on…”

“Is it… are you in pain at all?” he asked, even more concerned, and you tried to decide if you could feel any effects.

“N-no…” you answered hesitantly. You felt hot, and strange, and you were covered in rolling chills, but you figured that was just the situation you were in— naked in a tepid shower in front of your coworker who just so happened to be incredibly sexy.

“I should call poison control,” Bruce offered as he reached for his cell phone.

“No, I’m fine,” you denied as the water flow slowed down and you wiped your face, confident that you looked like a complete mess— but at least you saved yourself from whatever was in that beaker, right?

“Here,” Bruce offered an emergency blanket to you after pulling it off a nearby shelf, and it was not at all absorbent but it helped with the draft as you stepped away from the shower which was still leaking the last few drops of water onto the drain on the floor.

“Thank you,” you nodded nervously, shivering and dripping and looking back at him with no idea what to say at all.

“Do you feel alright? I should check you for burns,” he suggested. “I— I won’t look…”

“Please,” you sighed, pulling the blanket a bit to expose your chest and stomach. He brushed his hand over the skin there, making you instantly whine as heat burned just under your skin, clouding your mind and making you crave even more.

"Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously, pulling away, but you stepped closer.

"No it's… it's good, it's so good."

He furrowed his brow as he looked down at you, putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up, doc, you must be running a fever of 105."

"Touch me more, please," you whimpered. It was like you were in a dream, everything foggy and distant, and the only time that anything made sense was when he touched you. Or maybe it was that his touch sent you further into delirium; you couldn't be sure.

He gasped when he looked at your quivering legs only to find slick arousal running down the inside of them, threatening to drip onto the floor.

"Oh," he sighed.

"Please," you begged mindlessly, "Dr. Banner, I n-need you…"

"No, you need medical attention."

You whined and grabbed as his shirt, humming at the feeling of his warm skin just beneath. If the forearms that he often left exposed in rolled-up sleeves were anything to go buy, his chest was probably toned and tanned, lightly dusted with dark hair… you were all but drooling at the thought. "Please, Bruce… just help me," you pleaded, looking up into his eyes which were swirling with conflict.

"I can't," he shook his head. "I'd be taking advantage."

He must have seen the heartbreak of rejection make you wince, because he tried to soothe you with his hands resting on your arms— even just that contact making you suppress a moan.

"I've wanted this for so long," he explained, "and you— you haven't. You're unwell, you need to go to a hospital."

You sobbed a little at the idea of being taken away from him and examined by strangers, when you knew the solution was right in front of you. "No, no Bruce they'll touch me! Nobody can touch me but you, I only want you."

He scoffed, but you heard the weakness in it and you needed him to give in soon before you melted from your own hear. "You're deranged— delirious," he reiterated.

"It'll feel so good, please Bruce, I'll be so good for you— anything you want, I'll do it, I'm yours."

"Stop talking like that," he winced. "I can't… I can't."

"I need to feel you inside me, Dr. Banner, I need it more than anything. It's just gonna get worse… please, help me. I want you. I trust you."

"You'll hate me in the morning," he asserted. "God, this is so wrong…"

But much to your relief, he reached down and hesitantly slid his thick middle finger through your folds, gasping gently as he felt how wet you were. "I should t-take you somewhere private."

"No, need you now— right here," you pleaded, trying to chase his touch with your hips.

"But if someone came by—" he began to fret, glancing at the door; but his attention was turned back to you by your hands weaving into his hair.

"Nobody else stays this late, god, Bruce please I just need you so bad—"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss, which was enough on its own to make warmth bloom in your gut, but then he started to move his finger again and you shuddered with a moan that was muffled by his lips.

"Maybe I can make you come like this," he offered as he pulled back just enough to whisper to you, "would that help you? It'll take the edge off."

You bucked and moaned against his fingers, just those subtle touches driving you wild. "N-no, it has to be inside! You have to fuck me, I need your cock."

He breathed through his teeth, like he was almost considering it, but then looked away. "I can't," he shook his head.

"Can't or won't?"

He frowned. "Won't. I'll get you off with my fingers, otherwise it would be… too selfish."

"Bruce, I'm literally begging you for it," you sighed, the irritated tone that you'd intended lost in the moans he elicited by rubbing your swollen clit.

"I know," he winced, "I know and it's killing me that I can't give you what you're asking for… I swear if it wasn't like this…" he trailed off as you looked up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What would it be like?" you asked lowly. "Tell me how you would fuck me."

For all his shyness before, there was a brief switch in his demeanor as he leaned in, breath hot against your neck as he whispered, two fingers sliding into your channel at the exact moment that he spoke.

"So fucking hard."

You whimpered, knees wobbling a bit as you tried to ride his fingers— but he wasn't pushing back, wasn't giving you enough force to balance against when you sought more friction. "P-please, Bruce— I know you want to, please, please baby I need it so bad…"

"I know," he breathed, free hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, and it was so needlessly compassionate, so effortlessly soothing that your heart had no choice but to clench at his tenderness. Other parts of you clenched as well, in much more literal ways, but the heart thing was more important.

You gingerly reached forward and palmed his cock through his pants, moaning when you felt how hard it was. "You're desperate, too," you informed him with a little smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? It aches."

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"I'm hurting too. I'm aching, for you. Please, Bruce, help me."

As he pulled back and examined your face, he chewed his lip and contemplated. He couldn't stand to see you in pain, but he couldn't comprehend what he had to do to help you. Well, okay, that's not totally accurate because he had actually "comprehended" the idea of making love to you plenty of times. But that was just a fantasy, a very misguided one that he only indulged in in his weakest moments. And in those fantasies, shockingly enough, you were always completed lucid and of sound mind and body. He sadly could not say that for you at the moment, and of course he couldn't because of course when you were sober and healthy, you didn't see him that way.

Bruce prided himself on his logic, his integrity, his patience. Suddenly, those qualities were falling prey to a much deeper, carnal instinct that saw this not as a predicament but as an opportunity. Logic states, after all, that it would be wasteful to have everything he wanted thrown into his lap and to let it go to waste.

"Fuck," he groaned as he kissed you again, fucking you faster with his fingers. You moaned and went for his belt, barely managing to open it with your hands shaking so much; part of you had considered just trying to rip the leather off of him, and with the force of your need it seemed almost plausible.

Finally getting his trousers opened just enough to reach inside, you purred as you reached in and navigated past his boxers to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. It was so thick and smooth and hot and you almost wanted to drop to your knees and take it in your throat right then, but you had better plans.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, grinning against you at the way you whined, before wrapping his arms around you and quickly instructing you to jump.

It was infuriating, how easily he caught you when you wrapped your body around him. Infuriating and so painfully sexy.

He never broke the kiss as he walked the two of you to your lab table, sliding the papers aside and onto the floor to set you on it. You started on his aggravatingly-small shirt buttons while he pushed his trousers and boxers down the rest of the way, and god his cock was right there between your legs, so close but very much too far away for your liking.

You didn't have the time or energy to get his shirt off, settling for just running your hands over the exposed skin instead. He grinned and watched the path your hands made, hissing slightly when they wrapped around his shaft— for a second you swore you could feel it throb.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you whispered your plea, sighing a little when he nodded.

"Okay baby," he agreed.

"Been waiting so long," you whined.

"Me too," he nodded, and with a little push, his cock slid all the way into you and filles you to the brim. Even when you were completely drenched, the girth of him was so wide that it stung, that it tore you open, but you loved it. Your head fell back and just from him being inside you, you came. The substance had you so needy and sensitive that that was all it took. It wasn't enough yet, of course. You knew you needed more. But God, he felt so good you could hardly breathe.

"Baby," you heard Bruce gasp, his fingers digging into your hips. Your chest twisted when he laughed a little, breathless and just teetering on the line between complimentary and mocking. "Did you just come?"

You considered playing dumb, but nodded instead.

His smile was apparent when he pressed his lips just below your ear to suck on the delicate skin there, his teeth trailing up to nibble your earlobe lightly. You hoped he would leave a mark, you hoped he would leave lots of marks that you could remember this by for weeks to come.

"Couldn't help yourself, huh?" he asked breathlessly, whispering so quietly you could barely hear it over the beating of your own pulse which echoed in your ears.

"You feel so good," you justified, "so fucking good, Bruce."

"You too," he sighed as he finally pulled back and slid into you again, the friction making your back arch instantly. "Even better than I imagined."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips, forcing him to push deeper with each thrust. When he pushed you to your limits it felt like you might just fall apart right there, but it was so worth it.

As if that wasn't enough, he reached down and circled a thumb over your overstimulated clit, grinning down at you at the sight of you writhing and bucking wildly in his arms.

"Fuck!" you cried as you tightened your hands on his shoulders into fists hard enough to risk tearing through his shirt.

"Too much?"

"More," you pleaded instead, crying out when he gave you exactly what you wanted with fast, rough thrusts into your drenched walls. "Yes," you sobbed, "yes, fuck— m'gonna come, Bruce, gonna come again."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, voice so much rougher than normal, "show me how good it feels, baby."

It felt like his words were the thin that pushed you over the edge, as if your body somehow both understood and obeyed his command. You could feel a renewed wave of slick leak out from you, enough that you could hear the wetness in each slap of his hips against yours. His name was somewhere in the litany of curses and praises that spilled from your lips, your mind too clouded with hazy pleasure to keep track of what you were actually saying.

"Just like that," he groaned, "doing so good, fuck, say my name just like that every time I make you come."

An easy enough stricture to follow, especially when it seemed like he was all you could think about. He looked so different with his clothes half-shorn and his eyes dark with lust. He hadn't taken his glasses or labcoat off and you weren't sure which of those you were happier about.

His lips and hands were all over you; you couldn't even keep track of everywhere he was touching you, that's how overwhelming it was. "God, you're so fucking perfect," he groaned against your skin, finding a hardened nipple as his tongue explored you and wrapping his lips around it. "You are so goddamn sexy, you know that? I love seeing you with your legs spread for me like a needy little whore. I love hearing you moan and knowing I'm the one making you feel this good."

He took a moment to look at you and soak in your shocked reaction to his words before leaning in to continue.

"I love feeling you come for me," he purred in your ear.

"Then you're gonna really like what I'm about to do," you shivered.

"Yeah? You can gimme another one already?" he smiled. "Such a good girl…"

You really couldn't help it, it felt like everything he did only enhanced your pleasure— his words, his hands all over you, not to even mention his cock inside you. As much as the hedonistic corner of your brain was happy to let this go on forever, the ramifications of constant orgasms were finally catching up with you as you wondered how much more of this you could take.

"F-fuck, are you close?" you asked weakly. "Want you to come for me, Bruce, please."

"I-I'll pull out," he suggested, although the way he looked down at his length sinking into you and pulling back out, covered in your abundant arousal, didn't exactly indicate that he was willing and able to actually make good on his offer.

"No!" you yelped, pulling him closer by his unbuttoned shirt. "It needs to be inside, Bruce, please come inside me."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth.

"Please, Bruce, please, promise you'll come inside."

"I will," he sighed, "fuck, I will baby, I promise I'm gonna fill you up so good, you're gonna have my come so fucking deep inside you…"

"Yes!" you moaned, completely unabashed as the unknown substance had apparently absolved you of any shame whatsoever. "Yes, I want it, Bruce, I want your come."

The moment you felt his seed start to paint your walls, you felt relief begin to wash over you. Your mind and body relaxed, the overwhelming heat under your skin subsiding into a comforting warmth, the desperation that had burned in your gut satiated at last.

And that left you staring up at him in realization of what you had done, just as he looked back at you with the same.

"God, I'm so sorry—" he shuddered, moving to pull away. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips again, holding him close.

"N-no, wait," you groaned, "it's okay. Don't go."

"You don't hate me," he said, the exhaustion in his tone making it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.

"Never," you sighed with a weak smile, sitting up to clutch his face and kiss him again. "God, Bruce, now I'm just wondering what took us so long."

"Our lab safety is just too good, clearly," he smiled as he kissed you again, pulling back a little too soon to examine your face where he held it in his hands. "Are you okay? You should still probably go to a doctor…"

"I'm already with a doctor," you smirked, "and his treatment was very effective."

"Yeah, that was…" he trailed off, wide eyes as if he were reminiscing about what had only just transpired.

"Sorry for being so… desperate," you cringed. "I didn't mean to… um… impose…"

He just laughed and kissed your forehead, making you feel your cheeks warm a bit; ironic that with everything that had just happened, this was what made you blush. "A beautiful, amazing woman that I've been dreaming about for months begs me to take her in the laboratory… really inconvenient."

"I mean, cleaning up these papers and the broken glass is gonna be pretty tedious, along with the incident report," you frowned.

"I'll help you with it," he offered.

"Tomorrow," you decided. "Right now, I'm taking you to my place."

"Is that so?" he asked with a bemused smirk.

"Yep. We both are in serious need of a shower, and then I wanna go again," you grinned wickedly.

"I thought you said you weren't feeling the effects of the chemical anymore," he recalled, voice tinted with concern.

"I'm not," you reassured, "I'm just feeling the effects of you."

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x y/n

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teenyweenynightghost · 3 years ago

Note

Haii!! I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you would be up to write something comforting with Ethan where reader is having the period from hell? Thank you ❤

Oh ho ho this should be fun

Y/n was sleeping over at Ethan’s for the first time. She had feelings for him for god knows how long, and the night he asked her out was probably the happiest she had ever been.

Their date had been unbelievable. Y/n felt as if time stopped and she was the only person on Earth along with Ethan, as cheesy as that may sound

When it started raining, they both hurried to his car and drove quickly to his place.

“God, I didn’t think the night would end like this.” Y/n chuckled, draining her hair in Ethan’s bathtub, while he was brushing his teeth next to her.

“You can sleep in one of my shirts.” Ethan mumbled, almost choking on the tooth paste

“What?”

“I said” he spit out all the paste and rinsed his mouth “you can sleep in one of my shirts.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a bit and she blushed a bit at his suggestion, before nodding sheepishly and putting her hair in a bun.

Ethan chuckled and muttered a few words Y/n didn’t quite catch, before leaving the room.

In a few moments, he came back with a large t-shirt. It was burgundy and had a logo in the middle. Ethan gave it to Y/n and left her alone to change

That night she had fallen asleep in his warm embrace, listening to the rain drops hit the windows

She felt as if it was a dream come true, and the only thought on her mind was Ethan

Luckily for her, Ethan felt the exact same way

He held her close all night, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, and dreamed of her

Ethan woke up to a slap. He opened his eyes grumpily and looked for the source of pain, only to see Y/n turned away from him, in that position all girls sleep in; the one where they have a leg up and they’re on their stomach

That’s when he saw that Y/n had started her period

There was a large, red stain seeping through her underwear and another few spots on the bedding

Damn, he shouldn’t have put on white ones

Stretching a bit and getting out of bed, he started to think about what he could do.

He didn’t know how much Y/n trusted him or how she would react to this, so the two smartest choices that he had were to either wake her up and tell her what happened, or prepare everything for when se would wake up

Eventually, he decided going for the latter.

Heading to the living room and grabbing his keys , he got in the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy around.

The man was walking down the unbearably white aisles of the pharmacy, looking for some ibuprofen and tampons

He really didn’t know what type Y/n used, and he wasn’t about to be like that dude on TikTok who asked his girlfriend what size pussy she was, so he took 4 types

Maybe different colors would mean something…or maybe scent?

He made a mental reminder to ask Y/n if they had any flavors

After searching forever, he ended up having a kilogram of pads, three types of sheet masks and a new lotion, but no pain medication

They must have been hidden

Eventually giving up, he went to the cashier and placed all the products on the register

“Tough times with the lady?” The woman asked, sending him an all-too knowing smirk

“I hope not. Speaking of which, do you happen to have any pain medication?”

Ethan left the store smirking, having received a 20% discount for being “so cute”, and he also got a small chapstick as a gift

His next stop was the grocery shop

He already knew what he needed, so the trip would be easy; Twix, KitKat, Puffy Cheetos, Aloe Drink, and A LOT of Chocolate milk

It didn’t take long for him to find everything, so he wondered around the shop for a little longer, picking up a few more things

Y/n was startled awake by some people screaming outside

She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window, only to see that they were a group of friends who were just pranking one another

She groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a painful hotness around the area

Looking back at the bed, her heart stopped in her chest as she saw that there was a trail of blood behind her

Oh gods, her period came in the worst moment possible. Did Ethan see? Did he run away out of disgust?

She paced around the room nervously, thinking of what to do, yet ignoring the sound of running water coming from the bathroom

She shrieked when she heard a knock on the door and tried to hide the bloodied sheets as well as she could.

“Cara mia, are you awake?” Ethan’s soft voice was muffled by the door, which only made Y/n feel worse.

“No?”

She heard Ethan chuckle before seeing him enter the room. He seemed to have a reassuring look on his face, but Y/n could tell there was some pity in there too.

“Wanna come with me?” He asked her softly, taking her silky hand in his and leading her to the bathroom before she could answer

Y/n watched as he opened the door to the bathroom and led her inside. The shower was running and there were some clothes on the counter

“Get in the shower. I’ll take care of everything else.” He said, looking at Y/n so softly that her heart exploded and she burst into a fit of tears

His armed were around her in a second, comforting her as best as he could, but he truly did not know the reason why she was crying

“Baby, is everything all right? Why are you crying?” He asked her, worry written all over his face.

“Im sorry…I’m just” she sniffled a bit, shedding a few more tears, “no one ever took care of me when I was on my period and you’re being so fucking sweet and I ruined your sheets and everything is wrong and my stomach hurts and FUCK why did It have to come now we could have-“

“Woah, woah, woah, take a deep breath, dolcezza. Like that, just relax.” He interrupted her ramblings, wiping the tears off her face.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll clean them later. We can just stay in bed all day and relax. How does that sound?”

Y/n nodded slightly against his shoulder, pulling herself away and wiping her face.

“Okay.” Her voice was still raspy, and she looked at the shower. At that moment, washing her entire body felt like an unbelievably long and exhausting process. She slumped her shoulders at the thought of it and puffed.

“Let me wash you. It’ll go by quicker.”

Y/n nodded and started taking her clothes off, too exhausted to care about Ethan’s red face. Even though he had offered, he couldn’t help but think about other circumstances in which he would get in a shower with Y/n.

Regardless, it was not the time for such things.

Once she was inside, he grabbed the shampoo and squirted some in his hand, thinking of a way to lather it on Y/n without getting wet.

“Now how are you gonna do that without ending up in the shower too, Mr Edgar?” Y/n teased, letting her head fall back as the warm water glided down her body.

While trying to find a solution, Ethan’s gaze fell on the floor, which was now filled with blood.

“Y/n are you alright?” His tone instantly changed, now being extremely worried about how much blood came out of her.

“Yeah. Why?” She followed his gaze to the ground, seeing what he was staring at. She let out a low laugh before grabbing the bottle from Ethan.

“It’s creepy, I know. You don’t have to wash me.”

“No. I said I would help and I want to. Do you mind if I join in?” He asked sheepishly, concerned about crossing any boundaries with the girl.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

The man nodded, getting out and taking his clothes off. He placed them neatly next to Y/n’s, then got back in the shower.

Y/n was facing the wall, so Ethan pressed a soft kiss to her neck from behind her.

“I bought some goodies too.”

Y/n just hummed in response, leaning against Ethan. His hands instinctively went to her shoulders and started massaging them, earning a few whimpers from Y/n

“I can give you a massage later…”

“Absolutely.”

They both chuckled a bit, before Ethan got to actually cleaning Y/n. He softly lathered the soap all over her body, letting the water wash away the bubbles.

“Okay…I’m gonna leave you alone now, considering that I don’t know how to put on a tampon.”

“Alright.” Y/n responded, blushing slightly from all the contact. She heard Ethan take a towel and dry himself off, before getting dressed and leaving.

Ethan was in the kitchen, his phone in front of him as he sat prompted against the counter

Now close your eyes, and with a deep breath, release all the pent up frustration inside of you

“Um, Ethan? You said you had food?”

The brunette jumped up and hurried to close his phone, blushing furiously as he turned towards Y/n.

“Yes, right it’s over th-“

“Were you meditating?”

“Maybe.”

“You were.” (The bitch was so horny he had to reset his mind)

“You said you wanted food.” He finally managed to switch the topic, as Y/n’s eyes lit up.

“Gimmie.” She stretched out her arms and closed her hands repetitively, beckoning for Ethan to give her the snacks.

“Alright, alright. I’ll grab a few more things and come. Just go in the bathroom and get in bed.”

Y/n pouted, but eventually followed Ethan’s instructions. She was surprised to see that he had changed the sheets and lit up a few candles. She smiled to herself before cuddling up under the blankets.

Soon enough, Ethan entered the room with some snacks and drinks, a hot pouch and some medication.

“Here is some ibuprofen, if you have cramps, and a hot pouch.”

Y/n could have moaned in pleasure when she placed the hot object on her stomach, relieving a lot of the pain.

She gulped down the pills, cuddling into Ethan, who had an arm wrapped around her and another one massaging her butt.

He nuzzled into her neck, smiling a bit and breathing in her chocolatey scent.

“Squishy.” He joked, squeezing her butt, which made Y/n erupt in a mess of giggles.

She leaned over and grabbed a cereal bar, unwrapping it smoothly before shoving it down her throat.

“Thank you so much Ethan. I really don’t know how to tell you…no one has ever done this for me before.” She whispered, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

“I’ll always be here when you need me. Now you just need to sleep.”

“Okay…”

A/n: so i know this isn’t particularly a head canon, but the only way I can write is if my brain thinks im writing something short with bullet points, even though it would be a normal piece If I were to remove them😂

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe

#maneskin #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #damiano david #thomas raggi #måneskin #maneskin fic #ethan x reader #fluffy

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Period Piece-SBI Au

This is a SBI x gn!reader in the SBI Au where Techno, Wilbur, Tommy, and the reader are all siblings with their father being Philza. For this particular imagine, the reader is the youngest of the siblings. This is a bit Wilbur heavy because I have written Philza heavy SBI, Techno heavy SBI, and Tommy heavy SBI but not Wilbur and I was feeling soft for Wilbur sooo….. Oops.

This is gender neutral but it is about the reader getting their period for the first time so there’s that! Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist here

Y/N starts their period at the worst time possible, the one time that Philza isn’t home… but their three brother’s are.

Y/N’s POV

Sunlight flooding in through my window forced me awake. I let out a groan before flipping over to try and fall back asleep. A sharp pain caused by me flipping over ripped through my stomach causing me to let out a soft whimper. “What the heck” I whimpered to myself as my hand shot to my tummy and rested gently on the aching muscles. “What is wrong with me?” My stomach had never hurt like this before… Maybe it was something I ate last night… It may not be sitting well… Maybe I should go to the bathroom.

Carefully, not wanting to hurt myself further, I lifted up the blankets and slowly slid out of the covers. I let out a shiver as the air pricked at my exposed skin, but I marched on. Slower than I have ever moved before, I made my way out of my room and down the hallway to the bathroom.

The cool tile on my bear feet caused me to shiver as I shut the door and locked it behind me. Slowly I made my way over to the toilet, pulled my pants down, sat down, and began going to the bathroom. (That was so awkward for me to describe lol). I let out a sigh of relief as so of the pressure from my stomach released as my bladder emptied itself out… But not all of the pressure and pain was gone.

After a few more moments, I decided that nothing else was going to come out so I wiped. Once I was done, I moved to stand up, but something on my hand caught my eye. My eyes widened as I examined my hand and found that the normally clean flesh was now covered in blood. “What?” I whispered out, unable to stop the panic from building in my chest. My eyes scanned my hand even harder, searching for the cut that could have caused this bleeding, but found nothing. Then it hit me, maybe this wasn’t from my hand.

My gaze left my hand and scanned downward, stopping at my underwear. I couldn’t stop the small scream that ripped from my throat at the sight of my clean underwear soaked in blood. My breathing picked up as my heart pounded inside my chest. This is it! This is how it ends! I’m dying! I must be dying! Why else would I be bleeding… Down there.

A pounding on the door startled me out of my spiral. “Y/N?” I heard Wilbur’s panicked voice screech from the other side of the door. “Are you okay in there? What’s happening, why did you scream?” It was at the sound of my brother’s voice did I realize what a predicament I was in. Dad had to go to work today. Like real actual work in an office building. Usually he can stay home but he had a meeting he had to go to in person… I was home alone with my three brothers.

Tears blurred my vision as a sob escaped my lips, “I think I’m dying Will. I’m bleeding.” I called back. Thinking about it now, that probably wasn’t the best word choice, but I was panicked and Wilbur’s panic made me panic too. “You’re bleeding? Open the door! Let me in so I can help.” Another sob escaped my lips, “Can’t. Stuck.” I answered, not wanting to risk getting blood everywhere.

“Why the hell did Y/N scream?” Tommy’s brash voice questioned out loud. “Tommy, now is not the time. Please, go back to your room, or go to the living room,” Wilbur practically begged. I could tell Tommy was about to retort but Wilbur spoke again before Tommy could get a word out, “Tommy… Please,” the sincerity in Wilbur’s voice must have really shown Tommy just what situation we were in because I didn’t hear another word from him, only footsteps walking away.

“Techno get the key from Dad’s room,” I heard Wilbur order from beyond the door, “Stuck. Where are you stuck Y/N?” “Toilet” I whimpered. My mind was too far in overdrive to give more than one word answers. “Okay. How are you stuck?” Wilbur questioned, the panic in his voice slowly decreasing at my answers. If he knew what was wrong, he could help better when he got in. “Bleeding” “Where are you bleeding from?” A small whimper escaped my lips as I thought about the answer. I couldn’t tell him that, could I? That’s a bit embarrassing and a little too TMI even for my older brother. But still Wilbur prompted again, “Where are you bleeding Y/N?” his soothing voice called. I took a gulp and a deep breath before answering. “Down there.”

There was a pause from the other side of the door as Wilbur took in the information. “Down there?” I let out a small whimper in confirmation. “Y/N” he breathes out softly, “did you start your period?” Period…. Period. That word sounded familiar. I could vaguely remember someone mentioning something about it once… “Y/N?” Wilbur’s soft voice asked, gently pulling me from my thoughts. “I don’t know” I answered with a hiccup. “Maybe… What’s a period?”

The jingle of keys sounded from the hallway as I assume Techno returned with the key that would let Wilbur in. “Can I come in?” yep I was right. “Yeah,” I sniffed quietly, reaching up and wiping the tears away from my cheeks. I had already screamed bloody murder and scared the hell out of my brother, he might as well see me like this.

“Techno, run to the store and get some pads and medicine would you?. I’ve already texted Niki and asked what to get, she’ll send you a list or some pictures… Please” Wilbur asked softly, still in the hallway. My heart melted slightly at the words. He texted Niki? To ask her what to get? I knew he couldn’t text dad because of work, I just didn’t expect him to ask him to ask Niki instead.

The soft click of the door unlocking echoed through the bathroom before the door opened just a crack, enough to let my curly haired brunette brother in before the door clicked closed again. Wilbur kept his eyes focused on the ground as he shuffled over to the cabinet, grabbed a towel, before offering it to me. “Here, in case you want to cover yourself.” He said softly. My fingers gently wrapped around the fabric before unfolding it and placing it over my lap, making sure that everything was covered. “Okay. You can look now,” I told him, my voice equally as soft.

Wilbur’s eyes lifted from the floor to my face, allowing me to see the soft blush that coated his cheeks. “I’m sorry that dad isn’t here to help you with this,” he apologized awkwardly causing me to shrug. “It is what it is… Do you know what a period is?” I asked, hoping to get some answers. The blush intensified on Wilbur’s face as he nodded at the question. “Can you explain it to me… I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to it’s just-” Wilbur held up a hand cutting me off before I could ramble more, “It’s okay, Y/N. I can explain it to you.”

And so he did. Wilbur took the time to carefully explain what the hell was happening to my body. He was extremely patient with me as I asked questions, trying to understand. Wilbur did a really great job that by the end I felt a bit more satisfied with my understanding of my own body.

“How do you feel now?” Wilbur asked softly once our little conversation was over. “Fine… Better… But still a bit gross. I think there’s a bit of blood… everywhere down there ya know?” I answered honestly, again already wayyyyy past the point of being embarrassed. Wilbur let out a small chuckle and shook his head, “No. I don’t know. I’ve never had a period before.” The two of us shared a laugh about that. “But, I could run you a bath if you wanted,” he offered up, pointing to the tub. I gave him a soft smile and a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks bubby.”

Wilbur quickly turned around and began running the water. Once he was sure the temperature was just right, he put in the drain plug, put in my favorite bubble bath, and turned back around and headed to the exit. “Wait” I called out, stopping him. “Could you… Could you stay? Please? Like sit on the floor looking the other way? I just… don’t want to be alone right now.” Wilbur’s gaze softened as he nodded, “Of course kiddo.”

Wilbur looked away as I stripped out of my pajama shirt and bloody pajama bottoms and slipped into the bath. Keeping his eyes trained on the ground, he sat next to the tub, but completely faced forward so he couldn’t see me. I let out a content sigh as I sunk into the warm bubble filled water, the ache and pain in my stomach slowly fading away as the warm water soothed the muscles.

We were silent for the most part, just enjoying each other’s company. At one point there was a knock on the door. Wilbur quickly got up to answer it. The rustling of a plastic bag sounded throughout the tiled room letting me know that Techno had returned from the store. “Techno got the stuff. I can show you how to put the things on if you want.” I was slightly surprised at the offer. I didn’t expect Wilbur to know how to be able to do that… Then again, he’s Wilbur of course he knows how, he knows how to do just about everything.

But I agreed and so Wilbur picked up the underwear that Techno had also brought and carefully showed me how to apply the pad to the undies before gently setting it back on the counter. I mentally laughed at the situation we were in. Never would I have thought I’d be here, in a bathtub while my big brother Wilbur, showed me how to put on a pad. But here we are… Funny how life is like that sometimes.

Once I was ready to get out, Wilbur handed me a towel before finally leaving the bathroom to give me some privacy while I dried off and got dressed. I did so quickly, carefully putting on the undies so as to not disturb the pad… okay that sounded weird haha. But I silently thanked Techno for picking out my favorite sweatpants for me to change into. I almost cried at the shirt he picked out for me. It was one of Wilbur’s hoodies. The one that was even too big for him, so that when I pulled it on it swallowed me whole and encased me in his scent. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath at the calming aroma. Even though I don’t always show it, I really do love my brothers.

Leaving the bathroom, no one was in the hallway so I made my way down to the living room. Again, tears pricked in my vision at the sight. Pizza and soda were laid out on the coffee table with plates and cups sitting next to them. My brother’s sat on the couch in front of it, chatting softly. “You guys didn’t have to do this” I spoke softly causing all of their heads to snap to me. “We know… We wanted to” Wilbur told me gently. “Speak for yourself. I was a part of this for me!” Tommy jumped in, reaching forward and grabbing a plate, piling it high with pizza, before sitting back and stuffing his face. Wilbur elbowed him for the rudeness, but I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course Tommy would say that. “Come, sit. Eat” Techno said, holding his hand out beckoning me forward. I wasn’t going to argue with that.

I settled between Wilbur and Techno with a plate of pizza and a cup half filled with my favorite soda. I didn’t eat as fast as I normally would, not wanting to get eating cramps on top of the other cramps that would soon occur. But the four of us sat there on the couch together for a while. At one point, Tommy jumped up and put on a movie. After that, it was an unannounced and unofficial lazy day.

We were on the couch the whole day watching movies, only leaving to go to the bathroom or get food from the kitchen. At one point, the cramps began. Wilbur noticed my wincing and quickly jumped to get the cramp medicine that Techno had picked up. He put the pills in my hand and explained how often I could take it before also giving me a drink. After taking the medicine, I laid on my brother’s. My feet resting in Techno’s lap, my middle in Wilbur, and my head in Tommy’s.

At first, Tommy complained, claiming he didn’t want to cuddle, but when I tried to move, his hand quickly found it’s way in my hair and scratched my scalp soothingly. “I guess you can stay here” he grumbled in distaste, but I could tell he felt really happy about being included. Wilbur’s warm hands rested on my stomach and slowly began to make soothing circles, easing the cramping muscles. Techno’s hands began to work wonders on my feet as he subsciously gave me a foot rub. With all that affection and warmth, it was no wonder I fell asleep.

That’s how Philza found us that night when he came home from work. The gentle calling of my name woke me from my sleep. I carefully peeled my eyes open and found my father’s soft complexion smiling at me softly as he sat kneeled in front of me, his hand petting down my hair softly. “Hey kiddo. I hear you had a pretty big day today.” He whispered softly. I let out a small hum as I looked around and found that I was still lying across my brother’s laps, all of them still asleep. “How did you--” “Techno texted me when he went to the store. I’m sorry for not being here for it and I’m really really sorry I didn’t educate you better before it happened either,” Dadza apologized, looking genuinely sorry for it. “It’s okay… Wilbur did a pretty good job at taking care of me…” I informed him. Philza’s gaze flickered from my face to his oldest middle child, “Yeah? Of course he did. I always know I can count on him… I was going to offer to order pizza for dinner but it seems I’m a little late.”

I giggled softly at that as Dadza looked around at the empty pizza boxes still laying on the coffee table. “Yeah… But we could get Chinese,” I offered up slyly, hoping he’d agree. His chuckle told me everything I needed to know, “Chinese it is… I’m going to let you nap a bit. I have some work I have to do, but once I’m done I’ll put the order in… Sound good?” “Sounds good,” I confirmed. Dadza gave me another smile before leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead, “I love you so much honey,” “I love you too dad.” Dadza paused for a moment more before standing up, removing his hand from my head and leaving the living room.

I let out a small content sigh before carefully rolling over and snuggling myself closer to my brothers. One of them let out a groan, Techno I think, but settled immediately, letting me burrow even closer to them.

Periods suck. There is no doubt about it. They hurt and stain your clothes and can be embarrassing and make you feel overly emotional. But I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. My brother’s dropping everything to help me. Wilbur getting over his embarrassment to take care of me. Techno getting over his social anxiety to go out and buy me things. Tommy getting over his obnoxiousness so I could relax with all of my brothers… No I wouldn’t change this for anything.

There you go! I really hope you enjoyed! If so, be sure to leave a like, maybe even a reblog or reply telling me your favorite part!!!

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oftenderweapons · 3 years ago

Text

Into you | Yoongi

This fic was posted for the June Writing game A Summer Night's Dream, hosted by Professor Dove through @bangtansorciere

AU Types/Tropes: Silvery & Hush Established Relationship AU

Themes: Pining

Kinks: Marking, Fingering, Handjob, Blowjob, Edging, Overstimulation, Sex Toy Usage, (Praise kink, if you squint).

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 6.3k

Genre: pwp (very little plot) smut, fluff, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: we've all been traumatised by SoWooJoo!Yoongi, but apparently Kitten has very fancy ways of reacting to trauma. Expect a very special, very fond ending.

Trigger warnings: first of all, this is basically unedited, I'm sorry. Now on to canonical warnings: swearing, domme!reader, sub!Yoongi; assplay, rimming, anal fingering (all male receiving); edging (male receiving), marking (male and female receiving); blindfold and handcuffs (male reeciving), spit play, blowjob (male giving and receiving. yeah, he's blowing the strap, it's a thing, believe me. a hot thing too), brief oral, (female receiving); grinding/humping, masturbation (female), cum play/eating, lots of lube ofc, strap on/pegging, lots of possessiveness, very mild degradation (very fond, he calls her bitch but very, very affectionately), overstimulation, cumshots (plural, very messy). Lowkey voyeurism (it's in the final extra). The sex described is overall as safe as sex can be, with the exception of all anything oral and all the cum eating. That is not safe, get tested before you do that with your partner. Sorry, the warnings are very detailed but this is sort of different from what I usually write, so i tried to be extra careful.

Thanking the wifey, @joheunsaram for being the eternal sweetheart 💜💜💜

Here is my masterlist and well, enjoy!

When Yoongi came through the door, he looked quite happy, though his expression was slightly tired.

“Kitten?” he called, looking for you in the living room, and kitchen. Were you still working? He hoped you weren’t. Maybe you were still with the girls. But after two hours?

And then you appeared. Naked, leaning against the bedroom door.

“Hi, kitty cat.”

He hummed and grinned as he stared at your silhouette. “Is that for me?”

You nodded and walked towards him, staring at the way he bit his lip as he observed your swaying hips, the curves of your breasts. You laughed. He knew so little, poor boy. “It sure is,” you purred before hugging him, acting as if you were just going in for some intimacy before you found your target, grabbing his left asscheek while your other hand slid from his spine to his side to his stomach, all the way down to belly, teasing his belt and heading further down, cupping his crotch.

His mouth opened as he exhaled, his hot breath fanning over your bare chest. “You know what you want, don’t you?”

“I’ve always known it,” you replied, stroking him through his jeans. “I don’t think I could want anything else after what you put me through tonight.”

“Did you and the girls enjoy the show?” he asked, mouthing at your neck, feeling the heavy thump of your vein underneath the sensitive tip of his tongue.

“I believe Candy fainted or climaxed a couple times,” you considered, feeling Yoongi chuckle beneath your jaw.

“The kid will be getting it good tonight.”

You smirked, starting to undo his belt. “He's not the only one,” you teased before your hand dove into his pants, feeling him up. “Now I want you to focus on me, though,” you said with a pout, tracing the shape of his lips with a finger. “I want to blow your mind.”

He was speechless as he nodded, his mouth gently agape as you gripped the neckline of his shirt and dragged him to the bedroom. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew what was going to happen, what he did know was that he liked it, and he hoped you would walk the talk till the very end. Somehow, tonight he needed you to.

“What are you thinking of?” you started, your hands undoing the buttons of his shirt.

He placed his hands on your waist, caressing up and down your sides. “How much I love you.”

You smiled and knelt in front of him, kissing his belly button before nibbling on the soft skin just below it. “You’re such a liar.”

“You would be too dangerous if you knew the truth,” he hinted vaguely, pushing your hair back as you kissed his happy trail, your hands slithering into the back of his trousers and slowly, painfully slowly, pulling them down. Unintentionally, his underwear slid down too, his erection springing free against your cheek, a tight hiss coming out of his gritted teeth at the impact.

“Come on, darling,” you cooed before licking up the shaft of his cock. “Won’t you tell me?”

He was tempted to let you continue, making you become dirtier and dirtier as you tried to get him to talk; however, he was too eager to play other games with you. “I’m hoping you’re going to dominate me.”

You looked up at him.

“I want you to fuck me.” He looked away, his cheeks hot as he murmured the two words. “Ruin me.”

You stood immediately, placing your hands on his cheeks, combing his blonde locks back. “What am I allowed to do?” you asked, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“You pick.”

You felt your soul leave your body. “Get on the bed. All fours.”

Yoongi bit his lip as he felt you switch, your demeanour getting assertive in a second. He loved when it happened. He loved feeling you so at ease with him to let yourself act upon your most animalistic instincts. He wasn’t sure of what it meant to him, but he loved being used by you. And he loved being part of your darkest, most unspeakable fantasies. He loved being kept in that sweet, dark place that was your libido, knowing he would always be the only one residing there, because he trusted you when you told him he was the only one you wanted.

And from the way you made love to him, night after night, he could feel it was true.

He heard a low buzz starting in the room, the sound almost disturbing compared to the quiet harmony of your breathing and his chasing each other.

He felt exposed on the large bed, lonely as you circled around it, around him.

The buzzing stopped.

“Love, would you like wearing a blindfold?” you asked, letting him choose on such an insubstantial matter. It wasn’t your main focus anyway.

Yoongi thought about it for a minute. Could he? Did he want to?

And then he remembered how he had trusted you that one time. “I want to.”

You grinned and held the silk piece between your hands, kneeling behind him on the bed and pressing your hips to his ass, beginning to work him up while you slipped the fabric over his eyes. “All fixed?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, the tone excessively teasing for that to be actual submission.

“Are you all cleaned up?”

He nodded while unconsciously pressing his ass to your hips. “All clean.”

You smiled. “Did you do this in the hope I would use you tonight?” you inquired, feeling him nod as his hair tickled your arms.

“A man can hope,” he replied mischievously.

“Do you need to be used, Yoongi?” The question rang in the room for three full seconds.

“I’m yours to use.”

“Good.” You rose from the bed, picking all your tools of choice. “Let’s get this started.”

Yoongi was in for a long night.

The first thing he felt was the squelching noise of your hands getting wet, next a vague pineapple smell drifting through the room. He could somehow imagine that the thump he heard next, with a click following, was you, putting down the bottle of lube and closing the cap.

“Does your shoulder hurt, love?” you asked, kissing his back. Though the surgery and the recovery was almost complete, you still treated it gently — mostly because you liked spoiling him and babying him.

“I’m okay, don’t worry,” he replied with certainty.

You hummed and tickled his nape. “Good boy,” you praised before bringing your hand around his waist, finding his cock and starting to tease him gently, with slow, light tugs that focused on finding the veins running along his shaft. They were rather delicate strokes aimed at your own pleasure rather than his. “I’ll check in on you later, okay love?”

His confirmation came through a hum that quickly turned into a moan as you reinforced your hold on him. “Yes, Kitten.” And that ‘yes’ felt more like a nod at the pleasure instead of an answer to your question. You grinned and let him live — you loved when he started growing so hazy he lost contact with reality.

While your hand kept going, you started approaching your actual target, your mouth leaving soft little nibbles on his ass, licking the skin you had just bit before moving to the next spot, making sure you left a bruise this time, Yoongi’s exhale turning into a whimper as you found the perfect spot with your thumb.

Now, the worst part of teasing Yoongi is that he loved having your mouth on him, but that automatically meant that you had to choose between his oral fixation and dirty talking, or just very mundane teasing.

“Do you like your pretty ass bit, my love?” The question was spoken softly, with your deepest voice, the one that always drove him insane. He called it your bedroom voice, velvety, low, sultry and so elegantly feminine. In his mind it looked like a black panther to him, hiding deep in the forest of his desire.

“I like anything you do to me,” he replied, trusting you blindly — quite literally — as you lead him exactly where you wanted him to be, in places he’d never had the courage to explore by himself.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you rewarded him, giving him that safety, that reassurance you knew he needed to take the next step.

“Love you,” he replied meekly, his breath laboured. And then he felt it, your mouth, lingering in between his asscheeks before you pushed them apart, dipping your tongue into the crevice and lashing it against the rim of muscles around his hole.

“Kitten,” he cried out, getting on his elbows, spreading his legs and arching his back to offer himself more fully.

You hummed, appreciating his new position. You wanted to answer him so much, but you kept going, rubbing the skin between his testicles and his anus with your thumb, covered in latex and lube. It was the easiest way — which you had learnt the hard way. Lubrication seemed to last longer on the gloves, and you were okay with sacrificing skin-to-skin contact when the glove allowed you an efficient job, and a quick clean hand when he needed aftercare.

As you let your spit dribble down his skin, meeting your finger, you rested for a second. “Do you still want my tongue or would you like my fingers, babe?”

He groaned and started moving to push his cock into your hand.

You loosened the grip, the touch too light to give him the friction and pressure he wanted. “I said, my tongue or my fingers, Yoongi.”

“Fingers, finger!” he replied quickly — anything to get your grip back on his cock. He needed it, he was desperate and foolish and he needed it so bad.

And then you pushed your middle finger inside, a gasp and a moan exiting his mouth as he crumbled forward a little, clawing at the sheet, the lack of vision unsettling him a little. “Oh god, Kitten! Just like that!”

You grinned and started moving your finger inside just barely, beginning to work at his inner walls little by little, stroking his cock every time he got too quiet.

“Do you know how many people wish they could do this to you?” you teased before bringing your finger out, stretching his entrance and pouring more lube onto the glove. “Do you know how many people want to be in my place, right now?”

He shook his head, too overwhelmed to think, to speak.

“Everyone wants to fuck you. Or be fucked by you,” you murmured, adding one more finger and catching him by surprise. “Everyone wants to suck your beautiful dick. My dick.”

He cried out your name as you found his prostate and started rubbing your fingers gently against it. “All yours,” he purred, swirling his hips against your hand, humming when you gave him the perfect angle. “Kitten, fuck.”

“Is it turning you on?” you asked, removing your fingers to make sure he didn't cum too soon.

“Yes. Now tell me, are you edging me?”

Though his tone was requesting and assertive, you let it slip. He would go back to whining like a good sub in seconds. You placed your lips at his ear, tracing the shell with your tongue and making him arch his back. “Maybe.” You kissed his temple and smiled at him as he purred at you, trying to find anything he could kiss. “Are you in the mood for that?”

He nodded and gasped as he felt your tongue caress his lips and your fingers linger at his entrance. He opened his mouth, ready to be doubly violated, imagining you kneeling at his side.

“Do you want me inside?” you teased, your hot breath fanning over the lower half of his face.

“Yes, please,” he replied, his voice so shy and open.

You held on, caressing his ass, back and forth, slowly, sensuously before you pinched him. “Lay on our back, kitty cat. I have plans for you.”

He snickered and obeyed, curiosity and arousal being the only things keeping him from taking over. “You’re really on your worst behaviour, uh?”

You hesitated, slightly confused at what he meant. Did he like that? Did he…

“Kitten,” he called, stretching his hand and finding your leg. “Love.”

You thought it ridiculous that with such a simple comment he had managed to make your commandeering mood wobble.

He lifted his blindfold at the lack of response. “Hey?”

“Do you really want it?” You looked away from him, feeling like you were maybe pushing him too far.

He sat up to grab your chin and make you look in his direction. “I want it, Kitten. Do you want to give it to me?” You nodded, earning a peck on your lips. “Then give it to me, love.” He laid back down, and put the blindfold back on. “There, you have me. I trust you. I know our safewords. Please, do whatever you fancy.”

You blinked and gave it a try. “I love you, Yoongi.”

“I love you too, ____. I adore you. This is a judgement-free zone, love. It’s always been. It’s the two of us. Nothing can be wrong as long as it’s me and you.” His hand abandoned your leg so he could grip the headboard. “Come on, do it. I know you want it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already stretching to your drawer. “You want me to cuff you?”

He hummed and smiled brightly. “It was only a matter of time until you wanted the tables turned, Kitten. I accepted the idea of being cuffed the night you let me put them on you.”

You sighed and straddled his waist, stretching to the headboard to fix the prop on Yoongi, looping the links behind a bar and letting the other handcuff click close on his other wrist. “Too tight?” you checked on him, letting him tug at the restrain a little until he gave you his approval.

“It’s perfect. I’m doing perfect. Now could you please take care of my cock? It’s just a teensy tiny bit hard,” he hissed as he felt the mattress dip between his spread legs, your form crouched there right before you slipped your gloved hand under his balls, searching for the lube bottle and pouring some on your joined fingers before you dipped them in, making him groan in pleasure, your other hand running up and down his thighs as you playfully skimmed them with your nails.

“Kitten, I—” he stopped mid-sentence as he felt your lips around his soft, bulbous tip, his veins so thick you could feel them as you squished him with your cheeks, swallowing the first couple inches of the shaft and bobbing your head with the same rhythm of your fingers inside him. He exhaled, his breath coming out so hard that it resonated in small whimpers.

You let yourself continue for a while, waiting for his abdomen to start twitching right before you sucked him painfully hard, only to let him pop out of your mouth, his loud cries turning into a desperate little tumble of sobs as he felt stimulation stop entirely on all fronts.

“I only do this because it feels so good when you let me cum, but damn it feels so cruel when you edge me.” His words were raspy and vaguely ironic.

“Too cruel?” you asked, sitting up and stretching to his face.

“Perfectly cruel. I love it when you’re a bit of a bitch,” he replied with a semblance of a snicker. “You know, since I’m a bit of a saint. You balance me out.”

You grinned and pushed your naked fingers to his lips, letting him have a taste of his cum before he parted his lips wide, your face leaning over him as you made your lips touch his, your drool falling from the tip of your tongue right into his mouth.

Yoongi simply moaned at the gesture before chuckling. “That’s my lovely bitch.”

You nodded and hummed, kissing down his body, slowing down only to study the wet stain of saliva and precum pooling at his lower belly. Once at his stomach, you placed a heavy kiss there, deciding to mark your territory. You weren’t sure about what was making you feel so jealous of him all of a sudden — secretly your brain was still processing the mental image of him pole-dancing, after the guys had suggested it — nevertheless, you were a horny mess. Well, a hornier mess than usual.

Feeling your courage renewed, you stretched to his head, pulling up the blindfold. You needed him to look at you as you decided to remind him who he belonged to; however, you had to stop right on top of him as his beautiful eyes emerged, lashes fluttering softly as he stared at you, stretching to get your lips on his. As always, you gave him what he wanted, peppering a series of childish pecks over his reddened lips.

“Love you so mad,” he confessed as he watched you moving down his body, kissing the previous mark, already blooming in scarlet red and placing one right after, just one inch before his belly button. “You want me to watch you mark me up?” he questioned, his voice guttural and low pitched.

You nodded and pressed another kiss, even lower, feeling the salt of his sweat and precum sting your tongue as you sucked his skin in, feeling his taste settle in as you made sure the shape of your mouth transferred onto his flesh.

Lower some more, your index finger tracing his hard on, making him hiss.

Lower, to his pubic bone, where his shaved hair tickled you slightly.

And then up, one last hickey where the tip of his cock laid, taking note of the spot for later, when his sex would swell and twitch with a powerful orgasm, only to deflate and shorten a few minutes later, when he would grow sleepy and tender and his whole body would curl up with exhaustion. Then, you would look at the spot on his abdomen, stare at that burgundy sign and remind yourself that the tender kitty napping at your side is fucking hung — and knows exactly how to use every single inch of that beautiful dick.

And that every single one of those inches belongs to you.

With your eyes deep into his, you started sucking him some more, your fingers working in tandem as you started stretching his entrance, making sure he was absolutely ready for what would come next.

Again, his breathing started growing ragged, his wrists tugging at the cuffs as realised he was too aroused to let go of his high again. “Kitten, please…”

And that’s what broke the spell, his length sliding out of your mouth as you smirked and replied, “yes, my love?”

He threw his head back in frustration, pushing his hips up in a way that allowed him some friction against your mouth and chin before you moved away, recognising his intention. And just like that, sudden inspiration struck you, making you turn with your back to him, straddling his hips before you placed your sodden cunt over his erection, feeling the hard flesh glide easily with your drool covering it. It was almost too easy to sync that up with your fingers on your clit and the two digits still inside him. “Is this what you were begging for?”

He hummed, barely coherent as you started humping him, making him grunt and groan as he tried to get more stimulation, more sensations, something just remotely similar to your mouth sucking him off — obviously, to no avail.

You took only a few minutes to cum, deciding to do so with your hips over his face, too far for him to stretch out his tongue to taste you. And just to prove his patience further, you decided to press the softness of your boobs over his pelvis, one hand between your legs and the other one too busy to take care of him — which was actually a shame — still, you decided he was stretched and relaxed enough that you were probably ready for next step.

Plus, at this point, he was speechless, desperate and needy, begging you with a litany of ‘please’ and ‘Kitten’ and ‘let me’, all coherent thoughts out of the window as you finally came, gifting him with your open cunt right on top of his mouth as he pushed his tongue inside, humming and jerking his hips up when he finally felt your cum in his mouth, the salty, bitter tang of you so liquid and hot over his taste-buds that his eyes rolled shut and his nose sent a puff of fresh air tickling your overheated, drenched skin.

As you descended from your orgasm, slowly and carefully unstraddling Yoongi in the process, laying at his side and kissing his chest before you moved to reach his mouth, you realised he was the most incredible lover you could have ever wished for.

“Love you, baby,” you murmured at his side, watching him struggle slightly as his hands were still bound. He whined meekly as he found your lips once more, the kiss scorching hot as the two of you started moving in unison. “You still stretched?” you murmured, his confirmation coming with a brief delay as he tried to bring his brain to work.

“Do you wanna…?” Your question was vague, but Yoongi understood it nonetheless.

“Yes. I really wanna. I want it a lot,” he whispered, resting his face against the crook of your neck. You untucked him from there, drawing the shape of his lips with your finger before he swallowed one, tasting you.

You kissed the mole on his nose, on his cheek as he kept sucking, pushing your hand away as soon as you decided you needed to see him crumble. You removed the glove, reversing it inside out as you rolled it off. Next, you undid the handcuffs, making sure that Yoongi could be perfectly autonomous before you walked away from the bed to grab your required accessories from the drawer at the far corner of the room. Studying the straps and rings, you found out the correct holes for your legs to slide in, bending down to push the small harness up, getting a relatively small dildo in the ring fitting just on top of your mound, reminding yourself you should put a condom on it just to make the cleaning process easier.

Condom on, flared base holding the toy into the metal ring, you started doing the straps around your waist and ass, struggling to decide whether the harness was too loose around you.

“This is one of the sexiest things you’ve ever done,” Yoongi murmured gently from the bed, his eyes hungry and desperately in love with you. You gave a couple thrusts with your hips, feeling the addition at your pelvis and deciding that yes, it fit you perfectly.

Yoongi waited for you at the feet of the bed, kneeling, watching as you walked over to him and stood right before him.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, looking up at you, his eyes focusing on your blushing cheeks, on your turgid, red lips, at your swollen breasts and hardened nipples, following that line that lead from your sternum to your stomach to your belly, right to the toy at his eye level.

He licked his lips and kissed the tip, wishing with all of his heart that it could make you feel the same way as when he would press his barely agape lips to your clit. Grinning about your clean hand, you pushed it into his hair, combing it gently before he started taking an inch into his mouth, then another, then another, his eyes fixed on yours.

Even though you could feel nothing but the base of the dildo pressing into your skin, the sight was enough to give you a pleasure bigger than the physical one.

“You like it, my love?” you asked, watching him bob his head needily and gag before he backtracked, your thumb collecting the small tear that fell on his left cheek after his eyes watered. “You look beautiful, baby.”

He smiled and took the toy in once more, closing his eyes as he went further down on it, his hands placed on the back of your thighs as he pulled you closer, humming, sinking his pretty fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks.

“Wanna make you cum, Yoongi,” you murmured, using his hair to pull him off you.

He looked into your eyes, his lips messy with spit as he made his way to the middle of the bed, on all fours, trying to be as sexy as he could, but also feeling like he was miserably failing.

You smiled fondly at him, your reaction reassuring him as you climbed back on the bed. “How’s your shoulder, love?”

“Fine, but I prefer not staying on all fours,” he replied, getting on his knees and almost turning around before you stopped him with a hand around his waist. He knew his cock was leaking the very moment you put your hand on him, a white blob joining the ones caused by the feeling of your dildo inside his mouth and throat.

“Let’s do it like this,” you said, already pouring some lube onto the toy. “You love doing me like this,” you continued, getting both your hands around his waist and helping him scoot in between your parted thighs, the tip of the strap-on teasing the seam of his ass. “I want to feel the way you do.”

He nodded, fixing the tip to his entrance, pressing it and tipping his ass down, feeling the head fit into his hole. “Fuck,” he breathed out, abandoning himself so slowly onto the shaft, the object making his walls part until it reached his prostate, getting him to crumble entirely and sink down. “Fuck fuck fuck, thank you, Kitten, thank you so much, love,” he babbled, wiggling his hips as he found his favourite spot and started rubbing it against the dildo.

He was so grateful, so immensely thankful that you’d challenged yourself, that you’d explored so far so he could have this moment with you.

It wasn’t the first time you had tried pegging, but you hadn’t done it that much either. It was maybe your third or fourth time, but Yoongi couldn’t care any less.

The simple fact that you had agreed on trying was enough for him to be entirely smitten over you. Neither of you had even taken it into consideration when you first started dating, and now Yoongi loved how dominating and caring you became every time he felt like receiving assplay, or full-on anal sex; at the same time, you loved how vulnerable he became once you took control, and how easy it was for him to melt in your arms, or underneath you, once you started teasing his delicate hole.

As you moved into him, his back sweaty against your soft front, Yoongi threw his head back, resting it against your shoulder, mouth open, eyes closed, so heartbreakingly beautiful. You found his hand close to yours, lacing your fingers together while he found your other one, repeating the gesture right before you wrapped his arms and yours around his torso, holding him tight to you.

“I won’t let go, love,” you spoke in his ear, his whole body relaxing against you right before you gave a tentative thrust, making him whimper before he growled. “You’re safe here.”

He pouted, begging for a kiss, stretching as far as he could to get your lips against his. “Please. I love you. I want you so much. I’m so hard.” He almost sobbed when he felt you move inside again. “Please, let me cum,” he spoke, babbling slightly as you started pulling out, the dildo rubbing against his prostate. “It hurts, Kitten. Please. I wanna cum,” he sighed, gasping when you pushed back inside.

“Like this, my love?” you asked with a teasing grin, leaving a gentle peck on his delicate neck, drawing the profile of his adam’s apple with the tip of your tongue. “You’re so pretty when you beg, kitty cat.”

He moaned and shoved his hips down, gyrating them as the perfect friction hit his favourite spot. “Don’t play with me, Kitten. It’s been an hour, I’m begging you.”

“I know you can do way more than one hour, baby.” You started drawing circles on his tummy with one thumb, refusing to let go as you twisted your grip so your palm could rest on his abdomen, his own hand clinging to yours as you let your digits tiptoe further down, to the base of his cock, skimming the underside of the shaft in a way that had him setting a crushing grip on your hand.

“Kitten, I’m going mad, please. I love you. Please. Why are you so cruel to me?” he wailed, his body shaking against yours.

“Because you love it, Yoongi. Because you love me.” You chuckled as you felt his hand pressuring yours into jerking him off. “Because you let me ruin you so cutely. You’re such a pretty sight.” You decided to be merciful, starting to stroke in faster. “Because you want this, don’t you? Or you could use your safeword, my darling. I wouldn’t hold it against you, you know it.” You kissed his temple. “I’m yours, in any way you want me.”

Yoongi brought your joined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours. And then it hit you.

Everything was perfect. He was perfect. You felt perfect with him. And you knew he would take you, no matter how you came to him. He would take you and hold you — sad, happy, scared, excited, serene or troubled, powerful or powerless. He would wait for you and hold his arms open for you. He would kneel if you knelt, and he would rush to you if you crumbled and fell on your way to him. And he would have you, without condition.

Just like that, you went slower again, but deeper. Harder. Your hand, still teasing his cock, once more played an emotional tango as your pinkie lingered on his skin while you inverted your positions, your hand hugging his as you wrapped both your arms around his middle.

“Kitten,” he murmured, noticing that something was shifting between the two of you. “Like that, please, yes,” he said, letting the sound sibilate, giving you the answer you were searching for.

“Marry me, Yoongi.”

He opened his eyes, licking his lips as he stared at you with the widest, most incredulous eyes. “What?”

You rolled your hips good for him, making him purr and swear. “Marry me, Yoongi,” you repeated, kissing his brow. “Please, marry me.”

He twisted his head just enough to kiss the sweet spot under your ear. “Are you trying to fuck me insane so I’ll say yes?”

You chuckled. “Something like that.” You wanted to caress his hair, but holding his hands was more important — the most important thing in the world. “My heart is yours. I don’t want anyone else having it.”

Yoongi inhaled and made you tighten your grip around him. “Please,” he whined as you started going faster.

“Please what?”

“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes, yes, yes…” he said, starting to bounce on your lap, using you as he felt his cock swell, his eyelids quivering before they finally rolled shut, his release shooting out, against his chest, against your forearms and his abdomen. “Yes!” he finally growled, his expression becoming ecstatic as he rode you until not an ounce of pleasure could be drawn out anymore.

“It’s all mine,” you reminded him, his pleased smile getting even wider before he started nodding, only one of your hands leaving him as you wrapped it around his cock, even more cum coming out as you squeezed him, knowing he could be overstimulated, and that he would love it. “This cock is mine.”

He nodded, out of his mind, moaning as he reached the deepest pits of pleasure.

“And this sweet ass is, too, all mine.”

He nodded even harder, his lovely locks tickling your shoulder, his grin lopsided as he opened his eyes, brow furrowing as you smeared the cum on his chest with your fingers. “Your heart. Right here. All mine.”

“Yes, yours,” he confirmed, again getting worked up, all the edging and foreplay rewarding him with one more growing orgasm. He felt slightly sorry that you had cum only once through the night, but all his worries faded as your dirty fingers reached his lips. “These lips?”

“Yours,” he replied, automatically, opening them to suck at your digits.

“All your pleasure?” You went harder on him, ramming your hips up, feeling his muffled moans against your hand as you gritted out, “mine.”

He freed his mouth. “Yours,” he confirmed, fucking himself onto you as once more he shot another load onto his chest and abdomen, this time only barely less abundant than before. “It’s all yours. Everything. Everything,” he repeated, entirely spent as he tumbled forward, the dildo exiting him as he laid on the bed and rolled on his side, his entire body shivering with the aftershocks of pleasure as he still rolled his hips shyly, cum pooling at his slit and rolling down in heavy, white, blobs, all pressure gone after the insane amount of semen he’d shot all over himself and on the sheets.

You found a quick way to get rid of the strap on, laying behind him before he turned around, his body messy and tired. Still, you rubbed your hands all over his strained muscles, trying to ease out the sensory overload he’d just gone through.

“Yoongi,” you breathed out, before his eyes grew glittery. He smiled as the first tear rolled down.

“Did you really ask me to marry you while you were fucking my ass?” he joked, trying to hide just how emotional he felt.

“We can make up a more appropriate story to tell family and friends,” you joked back, your hands touching his face in a way that matched the feelings in his glance.

“We might have to, yes...” he conceded, finding the vaguely greenish mark between your breasts, kissing it before he renewed its bright red colour. Soon it would be purple again. “Do you really want me to be your husband?”

“I really do,” you replied without hesitation. “Do you really want to become my husband?”

“You will also become my wife in the process. Are you ready for that?” he teased, chuckling together with you.

“I’ve been told I’m a fast learner,” you cocked an eyebrow. “Great versatility,” you went on, giving him that cheeky smirk that made him know exactly what you were referring to. “I’ll learn on the go.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to agree to your proposal. You know… Taxes… Health benefits… Saving on all those boring law procedures…” he mused, his eyes telling you that it was for the most antithetical reasons that he was saying yes.

Love, faith, trust, devotion, commitment. True companionship.

“I could use a very expensive diamond ring to pay for a sugar baby once you’re old and boring.” The joke made him snicker before he placed a kiss on your lips.

“Already thinking of substituting me,” he mused, kissing you again. “I’ll buy you one of those fake stones.”

“Then I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever.” You replied, grinning. There was nothing better you could think of.

When Yoongi woke up, he felt slightly dizzy. He had slept all the way to mid morning, the aftercare so gentle and relaxing that after the bath he crashed on the fresh sheets, nuzzling his face into your chest before he fell asleep like a baby. And apparently his sleep was so heavy that he’d managed to sleep through you messing in the kitchen, baking a cake and icing it too. In your messy handwriting shining bright blue on top of the cake, the words read: ‘thank you for letting me peg you’, which genuinely stole a giggle from his throat.

What didn’t steal a giggle was a small piece of rolled up paper planted on the cake, almost resembling a small candle. He untucked it, rolling it open and reading it twice, feeling his heart swell with pride and love and gratefulness. ‘Thank you for agreeing to become my husband.’

Yoongi smiled at it, feeling his eyes growing wetter as he groaned an ‘aigoo’, standing up from the chair and finding his wallet inside his jacket. Opening it, he found the spot where he kept the cinema ticket from your first date, and the passcode to your apartment door, slipping in one more trinket of your story together.

Yoongi looked around as the other boys worked out. Maybe he shouldn’t… Maybe he should just… keep it on the down low.

And then Jeongguk, shrugged and removed his shirt, an avalanche of definitely-not-mosquito-bites covering his chest. Namjoon, spotting the maknae’s puffed out chest, pride prickling at his ego, also removed his tank top to expose the eight matching red lines down his back. He grinned even more as he turned around, small bite marks appearing at his collarbones and delicate crescent-shaped indentations on his pectorals.

Jimin blushed as he decided to pass. His marks were way too low to be shown publicly.

With a smug grin, Yoongi decided to keep his dongsaengs humble, removing his shirt only to expose a line of bruises starting at his stomach and disappearing at the waistband of his shorts.

Everyone hollered at him, Jimin chuckling before chanting, “Suga-hyung won!”

Tagging: @hesperantha

#Yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x kitten #sub!yoongi #domme!reader #min yoongi smut #yoongi x yn #thebtswritersclub #houseofddaeng #52hertz #bangtansorciere #thetruthuntoldnet

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maletfsstories · 4 years ago

Text

The International ("Soju 🇰🇷")

Requested By linxiaopei

"Newcastle"

-"You are here" Said Matt’s boss in a drunken tone as Matt walked towards the table his boss and some coworkers were seated in.

-"Jesus Christ how much have you guys drunk already" Said Matt as he sat down and observed a mountain of empty shots and beer mugs.

-"Not enough and you haven’t had any yet" One of Matt’s coworkers said as he continued drinking from his mug.

-"If you guys forgot I'm the one driving all of you home so I can't drink" Said Matt rather tired as he wanted to be at home instead of in a bar filled with drunk and obnoxious people.

-"Just buy yourself one and bring us another round of beers" Said Matt's boss as he passed him a coupon for a free drink.

Matt begrudgingly got up from his seat and walked towards a small area where a female bartender was passing a few drinks to a waiter.

-"Hello Sir how may I help you?" Asked the bartender as she pushed a menu in front of Matt.

Matt turned around and counted the number of people that were seated around his boss.

-"Could you give me four pints of beer please?" Said Matt as he looked back towards the bartender.

-"Sure" Said the bartender as she rapidly started to fill four large glass mugs with beer.

-"You seem a little stressed sir, are you alright?" Said the bartender once she noticed Matt's blatantly obvious impatient demeanor.

-"Sorry, the thing is that I shouldn't be here at all" Said Matt with a little bit of anger in his voice.

-"Same here, today is my first day on the job and I already want to call it quits" Said the bartender as she placed the first mug of beer in front of Matt.

-"Why haven't you?" Asked Matt

-“Even though I don't like large crowds and this bar is the worst I at least get more than the minimum wage” Said the bartender as she placed the second mug of beer in front of Matt.

-"So are you going to continue working here for the rest of your life?" Asked Matt

-"Not at all, I'm working here to pay for my studies, unlike the rest of my family I prefer to work for my stuff” said the bartender as she placed the third mug of beer in front of Matt.

-"Your family is rich?" asked Matt with little intrigue in his voice.

-"Yup, they are a bunch of snobbish idiots, my father doesn't work because he inherited a lot of money from our estate and my brother is an influencer who wins a lot of money by posting revealing images of his gym routines on his Instagram" Said the bartender as she stopped filling the last mug of beer and turned back to face Matt directly.

-“Wow, I can't imagine you see your family very often" Said Matt

-“No I don’t, my father lives in our family estate which I don’t normally visit and my brother is currently traveling around the world with his group of roided meatheads”. Said the bartender as she rolled her eyes.

-"It must be a fun life, kind of wish mine was like that" Said Matt with a little bit of melancholy in his voice

-"It does seem desirable but I frankly believe in working hard for one’s stuff" Said the bartender with a smile on her face.

-"What are you studying?" Asked Matt as he made himself comfortable in a small seat placed in front of the bartender's workstation.

-'' I'm studying accounting at Newcastle University" Said the bartender.

-"Well I'm an accountant ..." Said Matt with a small amount of surprise in his voice.

-"Really? How is the job? I mean I love the classes I'm seeing but I don't know anything about how to apply them in a real-life scenario" Said the bartender with a glee in her eyes.

-"Well I've been an accountant for the last five years and believe me when I say that the scenarios in class are way easier than the ones I've experienced in the job, it's hard and complicated but I still kind of like what I do" Said Matt in an attempt to reassure the bartender's career choice.

-"Why are you taking so much!"

Matt turned around and saw his drunk boss moving slowly towards him.

-"Sorry I was just speaking to the bartender," Said Matt as his boss leaned on the bar, meanwhile the bartender immediately completed filling the last mug of beer and placed it in front of Matt.

Matt's boss looked at the four beers and immediately frowned -"Where the hell is yours?" He asked.

-"Sir I can't drink I'm driving you and everyone else home" said Matt in an attempt to stop his boss's insistence.

-"Nonsense, just drink a small bit, that's all I'm asking from you" Matt's boss said as he moved closer towards him.

Matt momentarily looked at the bartender as she grabbed the smallest glass size possible, while she was doing that Matt looked at the menu that had been placed earlier in front of him.

In the meantime, Matt's boss rapidly drank his beer and walked away toward his table with the other three that were left.

-"Is this good?" Asked the Bartender as she showed Matt the small glass, Matt immediately looked up and nodded.

-"Do you have something that is similar to vodka but isn't that powerful?" Asked Matt as his boss approached him again.

-"Well, we do have Soju, it's from South Korea and it's in a way an exact match to Vodka, the only difference is that it's mildly less alcoholic, will that do?" Asked the bartender.

-"Please give me one in the small glass you showed me earlier" Said Matt as his boss was now standing next to him.

-"What did you order?" Asked Matt's boss.

-"I ordered some vodka" Lied Matt.

-"Wow Matt, I thought you didn't want to get drunk tonight" Said Matt's boss as he laughed like a clown.

In the meantime, the Bartender had poured Matt's drink from a small green bottle with Korean lettering onto a small transparent glass.

-"I hope you enjoy it sir" Said the Bartender as she placed the drink in front of Matt.

-"Here goes nothing" Though Matt as he swallowed every drop of Soju in an instant, because of this he immediately felt a burning sensation in his throat, luckily it wasn't as bad as the one produced by drinking vodka.

Matt then gave the empty glass to the Bartender and looked at his boss. -"Are you happy now?" Asked Matt with a little sarcasm in his voice.

-"Where is the fun in only one?" Asked Matt's boss.

-"You can't be serious, do you want me to get arrested" Said Matt in a raised tone of voice as he was tired of being pushed around by his middle age child of a boss.

-"Don't you dare to speak to me that way, I'm your boss, if you don't drink another shot I'll fucking fire you" Said Matt's boss in an aggressive tone.

Matt momentarily looked at the bartender who had a sad expression on her face while still having the green bottle of soju between her hands.

-"Another one please," said Matt as he finally relented to his boss's order.

The bartender immediately grabbed the empty glass and filled it with the crystalline liquid -"Here you are sir" said the bartender as she passed the drink to Matt.

As Matt grabbed the glass and drank its contents he wished he could end it all, to have a new life where he didn't have a boss or any type of responsibilities.

Once Matt placed the empty glass in front of him the bar where he was in seemed to disappear and was rapidly replaced by the interior of a luxury hotel room.

-"What the hell" Said Matt in a worried tone as he was about to get up from the bed he had suddenly materialized in, before Matt could completely get out of the bed a strange pain made his stop.

This pain was due to Matt's five feet nine stature increasing to six feet three, while that was happening Matt's slim build changed into a more muscular one. His flat chest developed a pair of juicy and muscled pecs, down below in Matt's stomach a few small tires of fat were rapidly removed out of existed which left him with a flat surface that was rapidly replaced by the growth of a six-pack.

Meanwhile, in Matt's skinny arms his biceps, triceps, and forearms grew as new muscle mass filled them, a few veins also appeared here and there, as that was happening Matt's back also became incredibly shredded.

While all the changes to Matt's upper body were occurring all the healthy patches of hair that covered the majority of his body disappeared leaving him completely waxed.

As the majority of Matt's upper body had gone through a certain amount of changes the next area to change was his lower body.

At first in Matt's pelvic area his equipment grew larger and larger. This made him immediately aroused as a moan escaped from his mouth, this moan however was very masculine and in a way, it sounded like that of a huge beast.

When Matt's dick reached the ten-inch mark his ass became the next target of the changes, it grew until what was left was a perfect round and bouncy bubble, then Matt's thighs and calves grew larger leaving him with a pair of powerful legs.

Because of the new growth in muscles around Matt's body, his clothes became extremely strained, as Matt suddenly moved his clothes finally gave in, they broke into small pieces which immediately disappeared, the larger pieces which were still attached to his body also disappeared leaving him completely naked.

A few seconds after Matt's clothes had disappeared a pair of black underwear and black swimming shorts now covered his private area while still leaving his upper body completely exposed.

-"Shit" Said Matt out loud as he noticed his new body and the weird clothing that had replaced his shirt and dress pants.

While Matt continued looking he felt a weird sensation as his face lots its Caucasian features which were replaced by more Eastern Asian ones

Matt's lips inflated only a small bit, his nose became fair and straight, his eyes became slightly slanted and his pupils became dark in coloration, the last thing to change was Matt's hair, it became coal black and his previously office neutral haircut was replaced by a more trendy one.

With the changes now complete Matt got up from the bed he was laying in and grabbed an ultra-modern Samsung phone that was placed on a sleeping table next to the bed.

Matt unlocked the phone with his new face and immediately opened the camera, he was obviously shocked and amazed at the beautiful young Asian face that was looking back at him.

-"너무 이상해" (This is so weird) Said Matt in fluent Korean with his new deep voice, the Adonis looking back at him through the camera shared nothing in common with his old nerdy self, the only thing that was the same was the pair of black glasses he was still wearing.

After exploring his new face with the camera for a little more Matt finally decided to look at Instagram for any info about his new self, Matt opened the personal profile which had the name "Gan Sangwook" displayed next to a picture of Matt's new self flexing with a dumb grin plastered on his face.

Matt after looking at the name and picture also noticed that the new him had a following of almost a million people and that his account was verified meaning that he was relatively famous and well known.

Matt then proceeded to scroll down, as he did he saw dozens of images of the new him working out in gyms surrounded by similarly muscled men, there were also some pictures of him in different locations from around the world and a few pictures were modeling and sponsor type posts.

As Matt continued looking at the pictures a new personality and identity became more dominant in his head, during the process of Matt's old life and memories being eliminated the door of his hotel room opened with a loud bang.

With the door now wide open a group of five heavily muscled Korean men entered the room, Matt remembered seeing some of these men in the Instagram profile but now he somehow recognized all of them and felt a deep personal connection with them.

-"이봐, 여기서 뭐해? 늦었 어. 해변에 가야 해" (Hey dude what are you doing here, it's late. We should be on the beach) Said the bigger of them as the others around him cheered with their deep dumb sounding voices.

-"해변 친구들을 위해 준비된 것 외에 제 인스 타 그램을보고 있었어요" (I was looking at my Instagram, other than that I'm ready for the beach dudes) Said Matt as he started flexing his muscles, the men he now recognized as his gym crew also started flexing their muscles.

-"그럼 가자!" (Then let's go!) Said another one of the muscled men as Matt got up from the bed and walked with the men through the large hallways of the most luxurious resort in Jeju Island.

After a short elevator ride, Matt or Gan Sangwook walked with his friends toward the private beach owned by the resort.

-"수영하러 가기 전에 ��러분 사진을 제 인스 타 그램에 올려도 될까요?" (Dudes before we go swimming can I post a picture of all of you to my Instagram?) Asked Gan as he and his crew were a few feet away from the sea.

All of the men said yes and Gan got into position, once he took a few hundred pictures he posted the one he thought looked the best with the caption "해변 준비 😎💪🏻" (Ready for the beach)

After Gan took the picture he continued walking toward the sea, as he did the last vestiges of his old identity of a thirty-year-old British accountant were eliminated what was left was in its place was Gan Sangwook, a young and muscled South Korean jock whose only worry in the world was to keep his body in shape and his one million Instagram followers happy.

#reality change #race change #mental change #age regression #request #the international #dumber

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alvhiedeir · 3 years ago

Text

Title: Is that all you got?

Pairing: Indra x gn!reader

Tw: drinking, mention of sex within influence (both of them are so nonconsensual?), Language, nsfw-ish

Note: I literally typed this without drafts before sleeping so not proofread

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

When did things go wrong? There where many, many bad choices made last night. Which exactly, was the question.

Maybe when you agreed to go drinking with the other gods, something that you rarely do? But it has been a stressful few many days for you and drinking one or two might help with it.

Or maybe that's when things went downhill. Rather than one or two, you drunk maybe half the club's worth of alcohol. That sounded exaggerated but that's what the hungover felt like. After your first one, your friends' encouragement and teasing lead you to down one more.

And another.

'Till you can't tell what's louder, the roar of the crowd egging you on or your own laughter echoing around as you danced a little to provocatively.

Maybe that's what lead a certain Indian god to approach your drunken self.

Eyes droopy but mischievous, lips tugging into a smirk as you pulled him close to your body. Hips swaying just the right way to get him intoxicated but pulling away just as fast with a cheeky laugh.

And he doesn't seemed to mind your little game.

Oh no.

He loved it.

The ever so diligent and modest you, playfully messing with him. With lips painted with red and seduction, who in their right mind won't take the bait.

And so he played with you.

Hands on your hips and back, calloused hands tracing the skin revealed by your clothes. Just imaging how pretty it would look all bruised and covered by his marks. When you pull away laughing, he would follow, his own chuckles leaving his lips in a low tone.

Maybe this wasn't the sole reason for your predicament. But you're sure as hell this was a vital point.

Especially after your little game, you found yourself pressed against an empty hallway. The sound of the party nothing but a gentle him in the background as he stared at you, eyes ever so impatient.

He pressed his head closer to your, breath smelling thick of alcohol and cigarettes. His tongue darts out to lick his drying lips, all the while his eyes stared at yours.

Then he closed the gap.

Ah, maybe this was your worst decision of the night.

You were drunk. He was drunk. But rather than doing what any rational person - god if you will - would do, you didn't push him away and said this wasn't right. That you shouldn't.

Oh no.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper as it already is. Tongue seeking out his own to dance with. Greedy and hungry, you kissed back with such vigor as he did.

He held your head with one hand and the other claimed a spot on your back, pulling your body closer. Molding your body to fit his, wanting to feel every inch that you had to offer.

And you just laid yourself on a silver platter.

With a tug of his hair, you pulled back from the kiss. Your eyes took focus on his face, and shit. Was it just the lighting or he always this pretty?

His hair was a mess as per usual but both his eyes were clear for you to admire. It held a perfect amount of hunger, lust and admiration just enough to make your excitement to grow. But what got your legs shaking was his lips. Bruised and swollen from your bitting and beautifully decorated by your red lipstick. With each gasping breath he took, you can't help but to think how nice of a color it is to him.

And how he would look covered in it.

You made many bad turns this evening but this was the icing on the cake.

Swipping your tongue across your lips, you leaned forward to his ear. Teasingly taking the lobe between your teeth before whispering lowly,

"Is that all you got, Indra?"

And believe me, you have no idea what he can do.

So as you try to scurry to find you clothes scattered across the room (whose room you did not bother asking nor thinking as it will just intensify your own embarrassment), you can't help but curse at yourself.

"Fuck where are my underwear?!"

The ruffling of the bed sheets made you freeze on the spot. Head turning ever so slowly towards the sleeping figure on the bed, you almost let out a sigh of relief as he settled back into sleep after turning.

"Damn, looks like I'm going commando today."

You tried to look as presentable as possible before turning to leave but the memories of last night made you stop.

Was it just because of the lighting?

Curiosity will truly kill the cat.

As silent as your panicked self can be, you tiptoed to the bed and and looked at the god laying on his back, one arm on his head the other hidden under the blanket.

With all the courage that you (shouldn't) have, you peeled the cover away just above his waist and you had to say. Being drunk didn't deter your idea a pretty.

He did look pretty with those red marks.

With your curiosity satisfied, with a pounding heart you did your walk of shame with the only difference is that you're running.

And you thought that was the end?

Karma's a bitch and life loves drama.

And it's just so happen that you're their new favorite show.

A week passed after your little escapade, and let's us say you had to walk the long way over just to avoid a certain somebody. Even going as far as hiding in a closet for a solid 10 minutes.

And the one moment you had your guard down, he just happen to be there.

Against you.

Pinning you once again.

In broad daylight.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck"

"Look who it is."

His voice was both amused and taunting. His larger frame towering over you as he lean closer, the memories of that night resurfacing, along with the red ess of your cheeks.

He laughs when he notices the color on your face. His one visible eye filled with humour as he watch you try to push yourself deeper against the wall, as if it can swallow you.

"Why are you embarrassed now when you said and did a lot more than-"

"Indra!"

He barked put a laugh at your loud response, your cheeks tainting into am even darker shade at your own volume.

"I'm just here to ask two things, don't worry." Your eyes were weary but none the less nodded for him to continue.

And you probably shouldn't of didn't want to turn into a tomato.

"Is this your's?"

In his hands, he held up a black underwear, the one you left in a hurry to leave, unceremoniously twirling it in his finger that anyone walking by can see.

Your hands shoot out to grab the offending garment in his hands but he held it further from your reach. He smirked as you ended up leaning against his chest, face once again a few centimeters away from his own. And when you tried to pulled back he already had an arm wrapped around your waist, effectively cutting away your chance of escaping.

Sly bastard.

"Damnit Indra! Give that back!"

He smirked, a low laugh escaping his lips.

Sly, sexy bastard.

"I'll give it back, I just have another question."

You tried to reach for your garments once again but he led it higher and started twirling it again. One wrong move and it can fly away into the floor and someone might just-

"Fine! Fine! Ask your stupid question!"

You can hear your own pride shattering in the background but you swallowed to shards and stared at him.

He laughed again, and you swore if he laughed one more time you're going to throw hands.

"Calling it stupid is kind of mean."

"Just say it."

He smirked at your snarky reply, eyes starring at you so intently that your wounded pride almost let you whine.

He lead down his head, pushing you, once again on the wall. One arm on you waist, the other - still holding the blasted underwear - burried in your hair, holding it so that it stayed looking at him.

The same position the two of you were in before.

He swiped his tongue out licking his lips, all the while staring into you with those eyes. And for a moment it seemed like you two were back in that club. He slowly pressed his face besides your's, taking your earlobe between his teeth. His gentle nibbling making it harder to suppress the shaking of your body.

After a while, he released your ear, only to whisper lowly. Hot breath blowing against it.

"Is that all you got?"

This is a bad, bad idea.

But without the alcohol this time you had nothing to blame but yourself as you pulled him closer, eager to get another taste.

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #Indra #SnV Indra #RoR Indra #gn reader #x reader #oneshots #fanfiction #Nsfw-ish #Indra probably wheezes during sex #I said it #sue me

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honeybomb4thebear · 4 years ago

Text

Turned-on SDR2 Boys Headcanons (part one)

May or may not do part 2. </3

Characters: Hajime Hinata, Kazuichi Souda, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, Nagito Komaeda.

Genre: N//fw headcanons (not all the way), All characters are +18.

Sorry, I made the reader dominant again... Hope y’all don’t mind. That being said, hope you enjoy it!

Hajime:

-I feel like he would be pissed.

-Right there? In front of everyone? Not somewhere private? This is... Just the worst.

-Embrassed and pissed, Hajime's cutest form.

-He is blushing real hard. Yet his brows are furrowed, and he can't even bring himself to look at you.

-If you notice it and tease him, he will lash out. You know how tsundere that boy is.

-Which is... Kind of cute.

-You pull him to the nearest private place, which is the unused classroom at the back of the hall.

-He still can't bring himself to look at you, still awkwardly swinging while trying to cover his obvious boner with his clammy hands.

-So you pull them away.

-"What is this, Hajime?"

-His breath hitches as he lets out a frustrated growl. "Y-you don't have to ask, do you?"

-Aw man, he is pissed even more than before.

-"What should I do with a dirty boy like you, Hajime?"

-"...D-dirty? Me? It's y-your fault, you know!?"

-You grin and ask him how is it your fault.

-He can't really talk, yet he says something like...

-"You and your... Stupid, pretty face."

-You HAD to hold back a laughter, or else he would feel so humiliated. But... He was just too cute.

-So, if it's your fault, you've got no choice but to take care of him, right?

-When you offer him help, he doesn't say anything, his actions speak louder.

-He brings your hand to his still clothed (yet hard) cock, while burying his head on your neck.

-He still jumps a bit when you start to palm him, though.

-Well, this may or may not lead to something more... But he has to stop being so shy and ask first, right?

-Poor Hajime.

-----

Kazuichi:

-Quieeeeet.

-His lips may be sealed, but his eyes? It's pathetically clear that this boy is trying to undress you with his eyes.

-He gets horny quite often, much to your liking.

-Because, well, those hungry eyes of his... Are so hot.

-If you want to tease him, try pulling your shirt down by the collar.

-As soon as he sees your cleavage, his blush will deepen.

-His lips will be parted slightly, his eyes almost like glued to your chest.

-Then he will gulp.

-To push him off the edge, mess with your clothes more.

-For example, if you've got a button up shirt undo the buttons, while carelessly talking about how hot the room is.

-Or pull your shirt from behind, making sure that every curve of yours is visible for Kazuichi to see.

-If you're wearing pants, spread your legs, if you are wearing a skirt pull it up so it gets teasingly short.

-"Y-Y/N, what are you t-trying to do? Not that I dislike it, but..."

-If you act innocent, it will be torture for this boy. And he will be ashamed, because it will actually turn him on even more...

-But when your hand brushes on his crotch, it will be all worth it for him.

-"I t-thought you weren't doing it on purpose..!"

-"Well, you were too naive Kazuichi."

-A stupid smile will appear on his lips. Which will disappear right after you move your hand away from his dick.

-Now the look on his face is even more stupid.

-Are you trying to make him beg for it? Are you trying to torture him? Do you like seeing him like this, in his completely pathetic state?

-Because if so... That's so hot!

-Since Kazuichi is a canon degradee, I feel like he is some kind of a masochist as well. He can and will beg for it, you don't even have to open your mouth, you know how shameless this boy is.

-And well, while he is kind of clumsy while begging, it actually works.

-Please make sure to call him an useless pig! <3

---

Fuyuhiko

-Is pissed as well.

-Will probably try to leave the room.

-Don't let him go.

-Because his flustered state is his most delicious state.

-"Let me go," he will murmur, still trying to act tough, "I have to take care of something..."

-When you ask whether the thing he has to take care of has to do with his dick, he will curse at you.

-"Y/N what the fuck!?"

-...Which will make you laugh.

-And you know very well that this will cause him to act tough again.

-"If you are too interested in it, I might just let ya help out, y'know!?"

-But is actually surprised when you accept it. It's a pleasant surprise, though.

-However, his adorable surprised expression won't last long, it will soon turn into a confident one.

-Soon enough, you two are in a someplace private, away from everyone.

-Your hand, guided by Fuyuhiko, is on his erect cock.

-He will smile smugly as he watches your hand work on him.

-...Yet, his occasional moans that he tries hard to fight to not let out are still audible. Because of this, he will pull you in for a kiss, a harsh one.

-Which will make you moan.

-Fuyuhiko absolutely loves your reactions, so his hand will probably dive right into your underwear, returning the favor.

-...It will escalate quickly from there.

-He will make you apologize for teasing him, though. Will probably call you a slut too.

---

Nagito

-I feel like he would leave immediately? You will be disgusted for sure... Right?

-Because, well, he is disgusted with himself.

-Well, maybe you being disgusted with him would excite him even more but- he still wouldn't want to upset you in any way!

-So he leaves rather quickly.

-...But he still has to take care of his little problem.

-No matter what he does, it won't calm down. So, he has to stroke it a bit... Right?

-He doesn't have to think about you while doing it... But oh, he just can't help himself.

-"Y/N... I'm begging you... Please, please, please forgive me Y/N. But I would understand if you didn't want me anywhere near you... A-ah, yes... How dare a trash like me beg for your forgiveness... I should j-just disappear... I'm sorry-"

-"...Nagito?"

-...

-Blush appears on his milky skin, painting it with an adorable shade of pink.

-Frozen on the spot, he just looks straight in your eyes, his hand still on his cock.-Unlike the other body parts of him, his cock wasn't frozen, though. In fact... Was it twitching?

-You happened to hear him talk to himself as you went out to look for him... Well, you certainly didn't expect this. Or maybe you did. I mean, he WAS moaning out your name in a private place.

-"...Oh, so I guess I ran out of luck at the worst time, didn't I? S-sorry you had to see... This. Ahahaha..."

-How cute.

-He apologized, yet his manhood didn't seem sorry at all. In fact, it seemed really happy.

-So when you pointed that out, he turned into a blabbering mess. He was quick to cover it though, pulling his pants up.

-But when you told him not to cover it, he once again froze. Then gulped.-"W-who am I to disobey you... But... Are you sure?"

-When you say that you are, he shyly undresses for you, his cock still rock hard nevertheless.

-In order to ease him, you need to kiss that boy's pretty pink lips. That will work like a spell, and before he notices his hands will gently wander on your hips, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

-After a heated make-out session, the scenery you will encounter will be the cutest thing you had ever seen.

-Nagito's fluffy, messy hair is even more messy as his pink (now a darker shade) lips are parted, thin line of saliva connecting you both.

-His eyes are timid, still thinking that he doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. But... When you whisper "I love you" right into his ear right before kissing and sucking (leaving marks, obviously) his neck, it will all melt away. Even if it's for a short while.

-His breathing will get even heavier as he lets himself enjoy the moment he is sharing with you, even though it's selfish.

-The sight of his chest going up and down along with the cute moans he lets out are the best. You just can't get enough of it, and seriously who can blame you?

-He will cum if you play with him a little more. But, you both know that you aren't done with him... In fact, this is where the real fun begins.

-Aftercare is important... Especially after pushing his limits THAT hard, y'know? So don't ever skip it!

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geminil0vr · 4 years ago

Text

without me? | ron b. weasley (request)

summary; you and ron say goodbye.

tagged; @partr1dge <3

word count; 1.6k

content; this is really fucking sad, arguing, angst galore, making out, mention of horcruxes, no foreplay y'all i'm sorry, unprotected sex (let’s say she’s on birth control), sad sex (smut), riding, fluff/angst.

a/n; i know this is serious but now i can't stop thinking about all those fuckboy memes like "a haha..... fuck, without me?" also this physically hurt me to write !! i'm sorry anon, this is way too sad, and i know you mentioned them having their first time, but i hope you don't mind that i changed the story a little so they were together for the ‘last time’ !!

you and ron had been arguing, and yelling, and crying, for hours now. it wasn't intense, nor heated. it was cold, it was brash, it was heartbreaking and earth-shattering. you could feel a harsh weight in your chest much akin to a gaping hole that made your limbs feel heavy, and your head hot. that made you feel utterly weak. your face felt warm and swollen from all the tears that had run down it, and his cheeks were flushed pink, face blotchy.

you think, now, that you weren't really that angry, just desperate. you just wanted an excuse, to create an argument, an argument that could very well have been your last. and you wanted to make him feel the way that you did, being left here while he went off to get himself killed, at least a little bit. but not too much. merlin, you wouldn't have wished this feeling of hopelessness on anyone else.

ron weasley had a strong heart, so strong that it chipped away at himself with every person he loved. his friends, his family, you.

and he had a strong head on his shoulders, determined, courageous, yet burdened by endless insecurity.

and you loved him.

your voice cracked for what felt like the millionth time, as the argument reached its shallow peak, where you two were just silent, before finding another reason to argue again, "why can't i just go with you, please, ron?"

"you wouldn't be safe! i've told you this, it's bloody dangerous!"

"you say that as if i haven't always gotten you out of something dangerous! i was there when you got those stupid scars up your arms, i was there for you —"

"i know, i know —"

"merlin, ron, i'm always there! i've always been there when you do stupid shit with harry and hermione!" you pointed to your side, as if an invisible audience were observing you, "why on earth is it — is it up to you to decide now that you want to protect me?"

"because i don't want you to get hurt, not because of me!"

"well, you're doing a pretty fucked up job of that."

you both swallowed, then sighed heavily, sitting down on his bed. he sat, hands clasped in his lap, body tensed. you pressed your hands into the mattress, leaning over it and letting your hair fall down into your face. this was so messed up. reaching over silently, without looking up, you took his hand in yours.

"don't go," you croaked, "i love you."

"i love you too." he whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke any louder. but he didn't give you an answer. he didn't need to. you both knew there was no turning back on his decision, that it was something he had to do, that it was something you'd have to accept.

sniffling, you finally lifted your head, looking over at him with tears blurring your vision. you picked up his hand in yours, brushing your lips over it, and shutting your eyes.

he took you in his arms, gently grasping your jaw and kissing you softly. when he pulled away, you carefully pushed him back to you, fingers ghosting the nape of his neck as you both tilted your heads, breathing ragged, cheeks wet. you could taste the salt in your mouth as your tongue swiped over his, not in a battle for dominance, but a cautious waltz of need.

you climbed into his lap, bending down to meet his lips, arms wrapped tightly around the nape of his neck, desperate to just be close. he clutched your waist, kissing down your jaw to your neck, not feverishly, tenderly — he wanted to memorise every piece of you, and guard it with his life. for you, he would. for you, it was worth it. it was worth everything.

sliding down your tank top to your hips, he placed more wet kisses to your exposed breasts, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell, licking over your nipples and suckling gently on the buds as you slowly rolled your hips into his.

you didn't want to think of it as a goodbye. but he'd left you no choice, informing you just a day before his departure that he'd be going to hunt for horcruxes to help his friends. and it was such a selfless thing to do, and it was so ron, running into a battle with no armour on. it was an act of wavering courage. yet you couldn't help but feel fury burst through you, entangling with your worst fears, your pity, your desperation, your sadness.

you wanted to keep ron weasley protected, away from everyone else, away from hurt, away from the trials of life and death. it was unrealistic, but you craved it nonetheless, and you let that want course through your veins, blood burning. you could feel it in your wrists, at your pulse, at your throat, in your stomach, simmering. these were shallow, scalding waters that you waded through, knees giving in, heart giving out.

he moved you to the centre of the bed, taking off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground; you studied him for a moment, broad shoulders, freckled skin — you thought he was beautiful. then you eyed his arms as he leaned over you, covered in deep, white scarring, circling up to his bicep, the cause of the scars even having lashed out at his waist, licks of ivory decorating the sides of his torso. and, pulling your tank top and shorts down, his eyes devoured all the newly exposed skin too.

you didn't speak — you couldn't speak. your hearts were still aching and this was merely a distraction, a last dance.

he trailed desperate kisses down to your waistline, then hooked your panties down, kissing over your inner thighs, making you squirm. then to your hips, and your waist, lengthening the distance between you and what you wanted most.

not wasting another second, he kicked off his own pants and underwear, and slowly dragged the head of his cock over your slit.

he found his voice somewhere, buried in the pit of his stomach.

"are you ready?" he rasped, swallowing.

"mhmm." you nodded, and wrapped your legs around him, hands grasping his shoulders as he eased himself in, just like he'd done many times before.

you groaned quietly together, closing your eyes and savouring the feeling one last time. you clenched tight around him as he set a slow pace, hips gently thrusting against you, both letting little moans slip from your mouths, throats dry from all the shouting and crying. the feeling of fullness enveloped you as he thrust in as deep as he could go, making you gasp and wrap your arms around him tighter.

“so good for me, love. feels so good.” he muttered between pants, the words only making you pulse around him tighter. you had a bizarre urge to both cum and hold off as long as you could so this would go on as long as possible, as long as you needed him on you, inside you.

the sex was soft, bittersweet, filled with random kisses, both rolling your hips against each other. sometimes with ron, it was urgent, needy, desperate, brutal. and despite feeling all of those things at once, you grasped onto each other and never picked up the pace, clammy hands and warm skin, quiet groans and pounding hearts.

“ronnie, i wanna ride you.” you mumbled against his lips, as he allowed you to ease off him, finally straddling his hips once he was slouched against the headboard. you lazily rocked your hips against his, dragging your soaked folds over his shaft, finally letting up and sliding onto his cock once he pinched at your hips and gave you a desperate look.

“fuck, y/n. so tight around me, riding me like that.” he groaned, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, head buried in the crook of it, bouncing steadily and moaning every time the new position made the thick head of his cock hit your g-spot.

“i love you.” you groaned, hips meeting his and no longer bouncing, just rocking back and forth, rolling your hips against his slowly.

“i love you too. so fucking much. never wanna leave you.”

“don’t.” you sniffled again, eyes filling with tears once more.

“i don’t want to.” you began riding him properly again, slowly, as he met your thrusts, rutting up into you. the crack in his voice was evident, and you avoided sobbing again by pressing your head even further into his neck, kissing the pale skin softly.

moaning, you bit your bottom lip, “i’m gonna cum, baby.”

“cum for me.” he breathed as you obliged (without much choice), body twitching as your orgasm washed over you powerfully, eyes screwed shut, thighs squeezing against his.

sensitive, he kept rocking up into you slowly, shallow moans building up from the back of his throat, voice raspy, “gonna cum, shit.”

you felt the sudden warmth as he pumped load after load of cum into you, and you kept your eyes closed, holding onto ron tighter than you thought possible as his trembling hands caressed your waist.

“can we stay like this, a sec’?”

his cock began to soften inside you, and he mumbled against your shoulder after a moment, “yeah.”

so you just held each other, breathing and hearts slowing down.

you mumbled into his neck. "promise you'll be safe?"

you could feel him smile softly against your shoulder.

“if it means coming back to you? i promise."

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ghostfacesvalentine · 4 years ago

Text

Death grip - Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: well, smut, daddy kink, size difference, thigh riding, that’s all I think? crying? lol

Type: One shot

Request: N/A

Word Count: 2,583

Prompt: Soft kinky!Michael UWU Michael finds out reader has a praise kink, but since he’s not too good with words, he opts to praise in different ways.

Notes: I am so sorry

Michael wasn’t the talkative type, far from it actually. It was no surprise to you though, you never heard his voice until a few months into the relationship. To others he didn’t utter a word, but you, you were able to recognize his tone. It was uncommon, by all means, but it was terribly comforting to you.

At first, it surprised you, but when he noticed you had a praise kink, he knew he had to find a way to oblige. Michael and you had grown so inmate, almost early on to your relationship, but it was by no far easy.

Countless nights you spend curled up against the blankets, hugging pillows close to your body to resemble some form of external intimacy. Michael would lay next to you, flat as could be on his back. He almost seemed tense, fists bawled by his sides, staring right at the ceiling. Sometimes it was hard to make out if he was even breathing.

It took a few troublesome nights; nights where you couldn’t help but sob, this was the only time Michael really reacted to you. You sobbed into your hands, no longer able to bare the loss of touch from another person. You couldn’t make out how Michael was so capable.

You on the other hand, you were such a naturally clingy person, always being pushed away for being too physical. Any kind of touch seemed to comfort you and be a way to assure yourself that you were safe and loved.

Meeting Michael, you were surprised you hadn’t lost your mind into the abyss of neglect.

That night you broke down, Michael sat in front of you, near the edge of your bed. You were so exhausted, tired of silent crying, worn out from your growing frustration. Your blurry eyes met Michaels, this came to be the first time you ever saw any kind of emotion in his eyes.

You limped into his chest, almost surrendering yourself to him, no longer worried about being pushed away or not being reacted to at all. Huffing out a whimper, your eyes closed and hoped for the worst, the thought of Michael comforting you would’ve never crossed your mind, but he did.

Instead, you felt a sizable hand against your back, it was subtle but enough to make you flinch. After being so deprived of much contact, you were sensitive to it, making his touch eternally meaningful.

There was not time to think, you were only enacted on feelings. Still limp into his arms, Michael wrapped his arms around you, not entirely sure on what to do, only what came naturally, sort of.

Your relationship flourished since.

Michael made sure to show you affection when he could, coming out of his comfort zone some. You paced yourself on how dependent you displayed yourself to be. Most of the time you let him make the first move, which he became rather fond of, but as your relationship progressed it seemed that Michael didn’t want to be the one to follow the leader.

It seemed impossible to get a soft side out of him and if you were being honest, you weren’t even sure that he had a soft side.

There were certain habits you had developed while living with him that he seemed to pick up on slowly. To you, you weren’t sure if he was just able to analyze your emotions or if you were just easy to read.

You sat at the edge of the bed, slouched over, listening to 1950′s music on repeat, the symphony seemed to soothe your puffy eyes and quiet sniffles.

Of course you didn’t hear Michael coming in, you didn’t even know he was there until he stood right in front of your face. At this point, it was rare that you jolted at the sudden sight of him, tonight was no different.

Your eyes lightened up at the sight of him, you licked your lips and leaned up to kiss his cheek softly. Completely exhausted from crying and letting your mood drops get the best of you.

His figure was significantly larger than you, it was easy to hide your whole body behind him entirely.

Michael took advantage of the position you were in, his hand then pressed against your neck, causing you to yelp in the process. He stared down to you, standing there as if you were his prey.

Somehow you eased at this abrupt touch, even though you knew what he was capable of, well aware of what he had done and yet there was an unquestioned trust you had in him. It seemed to be you both didn’t have to say out loud to know it.

No matter how long you’ve been with him, your breathing still couldn’t seem to control itself when he got close to you, or when he stood in front of you. Sometimes it seemed like he took advantage of that and it seemed like tonight would be a night where he would.

Michael leaned down, in a bitter slow manner, keeping your head in place with his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair against your neck. Your knees rubbed up a few times when you felt his head right above your shoulder. Trying to ease your breathing by holding in your breath, you could feel a smirk under the mask.

He didn’t have to admit it, but he loved the power he had over you, it was his favorite part of the relationship. Michael loosened his grip on your hair, his hand traced down your collar bone, outlining it with his fingertips for a few seconds, enough to keep your breath unsteady.

When he was satisfied, his digits trickled upwards to your shoulder, pushing your tank strap off to expose the area completely. It was subtle, nowhere near explicit but it still made you eager. “Michael.” You called in a tone just above a whisper. He turned his head to face you, which only made you sulk even more. Your confidence managed to slip away the more he looked at you directly.

His movements were achingly slow, you knew he was taunting you, there was nothing you could do though. There was no way you could take the lead, not if you wanted him to pull away and leave, just like this never happened. You knew this from experience.

It seemed like Michael liked to have you as his little play thing, to taunt and tease whenever he’d like.

As controlled as he was though, he still couldn’t resist your big (Y/E/C) eyes, not to mention your plump lips when he began to tease. Michael’s hand traced to the other collarbone, back and forth achingly slow. His eyes pierced right through you, he looked for any sign of distress on your face and even if you kept it from him, it wouldn’t take long for you to cry out.

This was part of the fun for him, he’d never lay a hand on you, he wouldn’t ever hurt you physically or attempt to but that didn’t mean he didn’t like to torture you.

His calloused finger traveled over your bare skin, forming inconsistent shapes, back and forth, eventually running up onto your neck. Your eyebrows formed a frown, waiting for his hand to jolt up and cover your throat, but it never did. Instead he continued to trace, his eyes morbidly fixated on you, eventually his fingers found their way up to your chin, then your lips.

Instinctively, you open your mouth, allowing his fingers to plunge against your tongue. Michael rubbed the collected spit against your lips, then slid them in again, prompting you to cover them. You obliged, swirling your tongue around them, looking into the black holes of the mask.

Michael removed them when he was satisfied, tracing his newly wet fingers against your cheek. The back of his fingers traced down your cheek delicately, you knew this was his way of praising you. It was dark but you were sure your cheeks were a shade pinker.

You felt his hands impact against your jaw, wrapped around your neck so easily. The size difference was painfully noticeable, but it was obvious you both loved it.

Michael brought you up by the jaw to stand, to which you had no other choice than to oblige, on your feet looking up to him still. Your chin pressed up against his sternum and you both stood there for a moment before Michael replaced you. He sat on the edge of the bed and you stood before him, able to kiss him directly without having to be on your tippy toes anymore.

There was a split second of silence between the both of you, staring right at each other. Before you could say anything, Michael grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you down to his lap. Your knees on either side of one of his thighs, a yelp escaped your lips. By now your breathing sure was unhinged, even after just barely being touched. You couldn’t help it, there was always this dominance that radiated off of Michael that just kept you in your place around him, it was sinfully hot.

It didn’t take long for Michael’s hand to appear between your legs, you staggered at the sudden appearance. You felt your face grow hot, your eyes avoided him now, looking straight to the covers as his fingers drew in through your shorts and over your underwear tracing your folds.

At this point you couldn’t keep yourself still, your hands reached up to press up against his shoulders to hold yourself steady. Soft whimpers escaped your throat as he continued to trace. You were sure he could feel the slick wetness that quickly formed with the new attention.

You didn’t have to look at Michael to know he was enjoying this too, the steady pace he was working to build up said it all. It took everything in you to avoid moving your hips, not sure of what Michael had in mind for you tonight.

Michael hooked his fingers at the hem of your underwear, pulling them aside and indulging into your folds. A sudden gasp escaped your lips, this was met with a steady pace coming from him. At first it was one finger, pumping in and out of you at a gentle pace, then when he noticed you were getting to comfortable, he added a second. All of which made your mouth fall into an “o” shape.

His fingers weren’t average size either, all of him wasn’t, which meant there came a little bit of divine pain when he inserted anything in you, stretching you out a little bit more than what you were used to.

Your small hands, in comparison, gripped onto Michaels shoulders as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. Closing your eyes, you brought yourself closer to him, being carelessly bliss.

This didn’t last long, he retrieved his hand from you when he deemed you wet enough. You pulled your head back to look at him with a pout, to which he responded by pushing you off of him by your hip, keeping you in place between his legs, Michael grabbed a hold of the waistband on your shorts and pulled them down, along with your underwear.

After the clothing dropped onto the floor, he pulled you by the wrist back onto your previous position. Your face continued to feel hot as you realized you were left there exposed from the waist down to him.

It wasn’t the first time, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make you feel vulnerable every time, still, you kind of liked it though.

Michael then grabbed a hold of your hips, forcing them down against his thigh. There was no way you could hold yourself up by yourself, he was a bit bigger than an average man. His hands motioned you to sway back and forth, gripping onto you as if you were going to run away.

Running away was the last thing you wanted to do.

It didn’t take long for you to understand what he was demanding of you, keeping your hands on his shoulders, he finally let his death-grip on you go. You rocked your hips back and forth, riding his thigh, you felt your wetness drip onto his clothing, leaving a streak of desire as you continued to sway back and forth, increasing your speed as you got a hold of a steady pace.

The overstimulation you felt was forming quickly, whimpers fell out of your mouth as Michael reached his hand up to grab your jaw, gripping onto it tightly, your breathing hitched as he held onto you. His other hand crept up to latch onto your thigh. Michael moved his head up to see your face, your hair falling in front of your face, glistening as evidence of your effort to cum on his thigh.

A sharp pain came across as you felt his hand give you a hard slap on your ass, you were a mess of moans and cries, continuing to move your hips up and down.

It was dark, but you were sure the wet stain on Michaels clothes was increasing as you began to lose your grip. Your head was falling, you closed your eyes as you focused on the overstimulation Michael was letting you have.

“Daddy” escaped your lips over and over, Michael pulled your head to look at him. Your eyebrows formed a frown, your face contorted into a cry of desire as you felt your legs clench together. His thumb managed to dip into your mouth, signaling you to suck on it, to which you helplessly obliged.

A cry out fell from your lips, you kept your eyes onto the black holes of the mask as you cried out “daddy” again, your thighs tried to press together, but were being held apart by Michaels leg. A spill of warm white fluid fell from you and onto the navy pant.

You fell onto Michaels shoulder, your chest heaving at the effort, his hands traced down your sides in a more gentle manner to your surprise. He let you catch a breath for a moment, his hands then reaching up to hold the back of your head as you shifted your legs to wrap around his waist weakly.

Michael picked you up with ease, holding you by the underside of your thigh and made his way up to a more comfortable part of the bed. Maybe it was because you were crying earlier that he showed you mercy, but you knew he’d pick back up later on tonight. Still with you latched onto his frontside, Michael laid back on the bed, grabbing one of the many blankets you had tossed onto your bed and wrapped you in it.

Your heartrate was working its way to normality as you pressed your head against his chest, a small smile came across your lips as Michaels arms wrapped around you a bit too tight for your liking. You knew this was his way of telling you that you did a good job, it wasn’t often that he let you rest, but you’d also be horribly naïve to think this would be all to satisfy him tonight.

#Michael Myers #Michael Myers x Reader #Slasher fandom #Slasher x Reader #Michael Myers one shot #Michael Myers imagine #Slasher imagine #slasher one shot #I didn't proofread im sorri

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snackhobi · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: namjoon x reader / word count: 9.3k / genre: pwp/smut

summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand.

warnings: sexually explicit content, masturbation, edging (kinda), unintentional voyeurism (briefly), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), bigdick!joon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation (reader gets fucked dumb), praise, aftercare (please heed the warnings, and let me know if I need to clarify/add any!)

For most people, Sunday is a day of rest. But not for you.

Sunday means chores. Sunday means tidying up, dusting, vacuuming. Sunday means finally doing all the Adult Things you’ve been too busy/lazy to do for the rest of the week (or even longer than that, as evidenced by your overflowing laundry basket). Sunday means work.

You slap at your vibrating phone, fingers sliding uselessly across the screen as you fumble to cut off the chirping alarm, and then you groan. “Ugh." You bury your head into your crumpled pillow. And then, once more, with feeling: “Uggggggh.”

You roll around in your bed, thrashing a little like a child having a tantrum, before you flop on your back and stare at your ceiling with your limbs akimbo, a starfish.

“Why?” You whine out to no one in particular. “Why me?”

Fortunately you live alone, so there’s no one to witness your sulky behaviour. You would put off getting all your errands done, but you’ve already been doing this for so long that you’re practically out of clean clothes to wear. That’s one part about living alone that’s a double-edged sword- you have your own space where you can act however you please, which is Great, but also you’re the only one responsible for keeping on top of things, which is Less Great. You can’t rely on other people to get things done for you.

You’ve never been a morning person, and the fact it’s so nice outside already does nothing to brighten your mood; it’s the perfect kind of day, the chilled bite to the air mellowed by the sun in the cloudless, pale sky, and you’re going to have to spend it indoors. Ugh. You eventually grit your teeth and pull yourself out of bed, waking yourself up with a cold shower. Once you force a cup of overly sweet coffee into your system and the caffeine hits you so that you’re fully awake and ready to go, the world suddenly feels a lot more bearable. So you’re unperturbed when your underwear drawer comes up practically empty.

“Oops,” you say. “Oh well.”

It’s practically empty, but not entirely; there, at the back, there’s that pretty lingerie set you’d bought on a whim in a sale and then promptly never worn. Honestly you’d be happy to go without, seeing as no one else is here and you have no one to look pretty for, but you find that you never get anything done if you’re not in a bra. It’s like a Pavlovian response that you've ingrained into yourself: when you get home, your bra comes straight off, no ifs, buts, or maybes. Bra off means it’s Relaxation Time. Bra on? That means it's time to get things done.

But, yeah, if you’re going to wear the bra, you may as well wear the matching thong, right? It came as a set so you’d basically be committing a crime if you didn’t wear them together. You take one moment to admire yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that to appreciate how it makes you look, before promptly ruining the illusion of sexiness by covering it up with a pair of old sweatpants and a too-large tank top. They're the only bits of clothing not in your laundry basket that you don't mind getting dirty while you clean, so, you have to make do.

The worst part about doing chores is getting the whole process started, but you’ve been doing this long enough that you have a routine. Bra on, hair up, mental checklist ready. You toddle through to the kitchen with your laundry basket, picking through for the colours and whites, feeling entirely too accomplished once you get the first load sorted. This kickstarts the whole chore procedure and once you get stuck in, you actually start to have fun; you’ve got your noise cancelling headphones on and your cleaning playlist is full of songs that get you pumped up, and you sing along to the music as you get started on your next job.

You wiggle your butt to the rhythm of the beat while you hoover, pushing your vacuum into the corners of your flat and ruthlessly sucking up the dust bunnies that have gathered there. You're in the middle of belting out one particularly long note when a spider scuttles out from under your sofa and the note rises into a little scream; you act on pure instinct and suck the spider up into the hoover, watching as all the long hairy legs fold together and get schlorped into the vacuum’s nozzle before disappearing forever. You feel immediately relieved but also immensely guilty when this happens- spiders are awful and you hate them but usually you’d try your best to catch them under a cup before flinging it outside, so the fact you’ve maybe just killed it? You really are just awful. (But thank God it’s gone.)

Maybe that's enough hoovering for now.

You empty the dust bag into the bin, mindful of the fact that the spider might still be alive and come crawling out onto your hands. Thankfully it doesn’t, but you’re not going to take any chances; you draw the bin liner shut and tie it tight, before deciding that the best course of action is to put it into your outside bin, in case the spider decides to come back with a vengeance.

You hoist the bag up and pause for a second to glance down at how the straps of your too-loose top have slipped down your shoulders to reveal the top of bra, the intricate lace trim of the cups and extra straps that criss cross your chest- definitely an, uh, interesting outfit choice for a quick trip out of your flat. You make the executive decision to shrug on a hoodie and zip it all the way to your neck to preserve your modesty and save you from the chill outside. Once that’s done it takes two seconds to slip your feet into your (fake) Converse shoes, another few seconds to fiddle with the lock on your door, struggling with the latch- it’s been a bit janky for a while and you keep forgetting to sort it out- before you hop your way downstairs and to the outside shed where everyone's bins are stored.

Ewch. It doesn’t smell that great in here. You make quick work of dumping your rubbish and escaping from the hut, shutting the door firmly behind you to try and keep the stench locked inside, before almost falling over when you feel the telltale sensation of a cat curling around your ankles. He’s meowing up at you but your headphones have been drowning him out, so you slide them off your ears and hook them around your neck so you can actually hear him.

"Oh, hi, baby!" The ginger stray likes to hang nearby the building, always friendly and happy to see you, even if he seems to like sneaking up when you least expect it. He meows at you again as you squat down to stroke him, butting his head into your palm as his tail curls in delight. "Aren't you just the most gorgeous boy? Yes, you are, aren't you?"

The cat ends up putting his paws onto your knee to butt his face against yours, and the next thing you know, you have an armful of cat. You laugh and continue to pet him, cooing at how cute he is as he purrs back. "Awh, baby, you're so sweet," you say. "I wish I could take you home, but my meanie landlord says we can't have pets."

“I was thinking of starting a petition, actually, so the landlord gets rid of the No Pets clause in the tenancy agreement. You’re welcome to sign it if you like.”

You glance up from where you’ve been allowing the cat to shove his nose against your chin, standing up straight to address the man who’s talking to you, cat still clutched in your arms. “Oh! Hi, Namjoon-ssi. That’s such a good idea, I love that. Stick it to the man. I’d definitely sign it. How are you today?”

Kim Namjoon, aka your neighbour from across the hall, is smiling at the cat in your arms. Namjoon’s the perfect neighbour and ideal tenant- quiet, tidy, considerate, although he does have a tendency to lose his keys and gets locked out of his flat on a pretty regular basis.

It’s actually how you’d started to talk in the first place. When you first moved in you’d given him a small box of chocolates to endear yourself to your same-floor-friend, only exchanging small nods and pleasant greetings for a while after that, but after you’d found Namjoon waiting sheepishly on his own doorstep- “My friend has a key but it’s going to take him a little while to get here,” he’d explained- you’d invited him into your own flat to wait, rather than just in the hall.

Since then you’ve started to have chats whenever you see each other, and occasionally knock on each other’s doors whenever you ask to borrow things like sugar or a screwdriver or whatever, and you always invite Namjoon in for a cup of tea when he’s waiting for one of his friends to rescue him from his own forgetful nature. You’re still toeing the line between Friendly Neighbours and Kind Of Friends, but one thing you already know and admire about Namjoon is his ability to actually be a mature and put together adult. Sure, you drink a decent amount of water, you have a skincare routine with multiple steps, and you usually manage to eat your 5-a-day, but a lot of that feels like you do it because you’re expected to, sort of like a child playing make-believe.

Namjoon, meanwhile, manages to just ooze the sort of gravitas that comes with being a fully realised human being, someone who actively participates in the world around them because they’re entirely engaged with things and basically just Super Mature Adult (even if he apparently loses/breaks things on a fairly regular basis). Hence why you’re not at all surprised at the petition thing, or when Namjoon proceeds to tell you that he’s going to spend the afternoon at his friend’s uncle’s strawberry farm, picking fruit, because of course Namjoon is the kind of guy who supports local, organic, free range produce. (Wait. Can strawberries be free range? Or is that just eggs?)

“Ahh, I love strawberries! That’s so cool,” you say. “It must be fun.”

“You’re welcome to come, if you like,” Namjoon says. He’s always gracious so you know he’s just saying this to be polite, but you can’t help but think it would probably be really nice to spend time picking fruit and talking with him.

“Ah, I’d love to, but unfortunately I have prior commitments. I’m catching up on chores,” you admit ruefully. You’re still absently scritching the ginger cat’s chin as you speak, the animal purring up a storm in your arms and shedding all over your clothes, although you don’t notice or care. Namjoon is incredibly endeared- not that you notice that, either. “Hence the runway-ready outfit.”

Your hair is so messy it looks like some sort of wild possum has been nesting in it, your hoodie sleeves are so long they threaten to swallow your hands, and you’re not even wearing your cheap knock-off shoes properly- you’re stepping on the back collar of them in your bare feet so they’re basically glorified flip-flops at this point. Total fashionista. (Not.)

Namjoon, however, seems surprised at your dismissive tone. “You look cute and cozy,” he says.

You snort in an unladylike way, lifting the cat in your arms a little- you can’t gesture properly with an armful of fur, especially when the stray takes this as an invitation to crane upwards and shove his little face into the crook of your neck, knocking against your headphones. “Cute baby,” you coo at the cat, before turning your attention back to Namjoon. “You look cute and cozy,” you echo. It’s a little chilly today and Namjoon’s wrapped up, long scarf curled around his neck, beanie on his head, hem of his coat fluttering around his thighs. Super cozy, and again, a well-put-together adult.

You muffle a sigh. He’s a well-put-together and hot adult, tall and built, so handsome in his casual outfit, effortlessly masculine. You’ve been lowkey crushing on Namjoon for a while now, as futile as that effort is- you haven’t seen any evidence of a special someone in Namjoon’s life, but there’s no way that man is single. Even if he somehow is, he’s like, a bajillion light years out of your league, hyper intelligent and kind and gorgeous, in comparison to your… um… your… well. Yeah. In comparison to that.

He’s nice to you and he smiles whenever he sees you, though, and your weak little heart can’t help but flip flop in your chest whenever you see that dimpled little smile, even if you know you don’t have a chance in hell that he really thinks that you’re cute. He’s just being polite.

The cat in your arms gives a little wriggle, apparently sated for the day, and you carefully squat down to deposit him onto the ground. He gives you both one last little mewl before scampering off and you fondly watch him go. “Let me know when you have that petition written up,” you say, brushing the cat hairs off your sleeves. “I better get back to my flat, I need to finish the rest of my laundry so I can continue the facade of being a functional adult. Have a great day, Namjoon-ssi, and I hope you enjoy the strawberries! You’ll have to tell me how they are.”

“I will,” he says, eyes warm as he smiles, those little dimples appearing in his cheeks. Ugh, you want to touch them so much. “Good luck with your laundry.”

Namjoon’s beautiful smile fuels you for the rest of the day, buoying you up as you scrub the walls of your shower and bleach your toilet, bright yellow gloves a size too large for your hands as you spritz your bathroom counter. You might not be a legitimate adult in the same way that your neighbour is but you can give it a damn good go; even if the rest of your life is maybe a bit more chaotic than you’d like, you can at least get your surroundings in order.

And you do. By the time you’re finished with hoovering and mopping your floors and reorganising your clutter, your flat feels brand-spanking new again, fresh and clean and airy. You’d even lit a few scented candles earlier and you give yourself a pat on the back for your forward thinking as you snuff them out, the delicate smell of vanilla lightly filling the apartment. All that’s left is to go to the kitchen and put the final load of laundry in the tumble dryer and once that’s been emptied and sorted, you’re all finished. Mission accomplished. Chores done.

Once the tumble dryer has started its cycle you reward yourself with a cup of tea, a blackcurrant and blueberry fruit infusion that you’d gotten as a Secret Santa gift at work and hadn’t used yet, saving it for a special occasion. You hum to yourself and continue to wiggle your hips to the music trickling out of your headphones as the kettle boils, watching the purple that bleeds from the tea bag once the hot water cascades over it. It looks rich and vibrant and it smells so good- but then you make a little face when you take a sip. Fruit teas never taste as good as they smell. It’s not bad but it’s a little disappointing, really, a subpar reward after a hard day of work.

You stand in the middle of your kitchen with your mug still in your hand, eyes unfocused as you stare into space, trying to think of things in your flat that you could use to reward yourself. You’ve already used up those fancy gel eye masks that Jimin had given you for your birthday, and you’d let Jungkook have your sheet masks when he’d said his favourite brand was out of stock; Taehyung had pilfered all of your bath bombs as part of an experiment (the experiment being that he wanted to know what colour his bath water would turn if he used all your different bath bombs in it- the answer was ‘an incredibly underwhelming, if glittery, sludge brown’), and he still hasn’t gotten around to replacing them.

Pay day isn’t until next week and you’re tight enough on money at the moment that you don’t want to order out for dinner- living alone means you have to pay more rent so you have to be more careful with money- so you’re out of ideas.

That is until motion out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You glance over at it, pulled out of your reverie; the old tumble dryer has been in this flat longer than you and it’s showing signs of wear and tear, base warped a little from age, noisy and wobbly as your clothes are being spun inside. You pause, mug dropping a little in your hand as the thought briefly flickers through your mind, before you bite your lip and throw caution to the wind. Fuck it. You live alone and you’ve had a long day and you deserve some kind of reward.

You abandon your unfinished mug of tea in the sink before eyeing the shaking tumble dryer. You hoist yourself up, straddling the corner of the machine, a little shiver running through you when you feel the vibrations through your legs and thighs as you settle into place; it takes time to situate yourself, thighs spreading as you tilt your hips forward and press your heat against the rumbling dryer. You shift on your hands, palms braced against the top of the machine as you wriggle into the best position- the second you get just the right angle you let out a little gasp, eyes squeezing shut when you feel how the shaking machine is sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

You keep your eyes shut as you continue to find the right rhythm. You rock your hips forward each time the machine rocks back, rolling the weight of your body down towards your clenching cunt; the vibrations are so strong that you can feel them through your sweatpants, lace of your thong rubbing against your clit in a deliciously rough way, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through you.

As you continue to work yourself up, your skin starts to feel overheated under your clothes, even with the chill spring air seeping into the flat- you fumble with the zip of hoodie, letting the material sag open before you brace yourself with your palms again. You feel how the hoodie slips down your arms, baring your shoulders, and you tilt your head back, revealing the line of your neck as you arch your spine. Each rumble of the machine rolls through you, wetness starting to slicken your folds as you grind down a little harder. It’s a steady, slow climb towards your peak- you shut your eyes to focus fully on the pleasure building between your legs, the way your clit feels swollen and almost over-sensitive from the strong vibrations from the dryer, the way your pussy clenches whenever you get the angle just right.

You start to gasp, biting back moans when you feel how your orgasm is getting closer. You lift one hand from the top of the dryer to run your hands over your skin- your neck, your throat, tracing over the straps of the bra that are digging into the swell of your breasts. It’s good, really good, but it’s not enough; every time you feel like the peak of your orgasm is about to crest, it ebbs away again, and you let out a little whine from the back of your throat.

With your eyes still shut, you try to conjure up images that’ll arouse you and send you tumbling over the edge. Hands on your body, lips against your skin, your mouth. Normally when you masturbate you try to keep away from thinking about anyone in particular, because you feel like if you see that person in the future they’ll just telepathically know about it and you end up feeling awkward and guilty (even if you know it's illogical)- but today you can’t help it. Your mind slips to the thought of Namjoon this morning and the way he’d smiled at you, and once you start thinking about Namjoon, you can’t stop.

Namjoon’s smile. His mouth. His tongue. His hands, his fingers. His tall, beautiful body, pressing you down against a mattress, trapping you against him. You take the hand that’s been trailing over your collarbones and lift it to your mouth and press two fingers past your lips, trying to imagine that it’s Namjoon. Imagine that it’s the weight of his cock on your tongue, hard and heavy. You bet it’s as gorgeous as the rest of him. You bet he tastes so good, hot and salt and maybe a little bitter, heady and masculine; you let out a low moan around your lips as you run the pads of your fingertips over your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth.

All the while, your music has been playing on, heavy beat thrumming through you as you forget the outside world and focus on the reality you’re conjuring in your mind. Namjoon’s cock in your mouth. Namjoon’s mouth on your cunt. Namjoon’s skin against yours. Namjoon fucking into you, hard and deep. Your blood rises in your veins, toes curling as you can feel how your orgasm is getting ever closer now that you’re this turned on, your cunt leaking with arousal; the thought of Namjoon wanting you as much as you want him is dizzying, as unlikely as it is. The Namjoon in your mind fucks into you with a particularly rough thrust and in the real world you respond with a moan, garbled around the fingers between your lips. Fuck, you’re so close.

Just as you're nearly there, your playlist ends and everything lapses into silence, your reverie shattered. The moment is gone. Your orgasm slips away from you again and you whimper, unintentionally edging yourself yet again.

Your eyes flutter open briefly when your haze is broken, although you squeeze them back shut so that you can get back to picturing Namjoon and finally bring yourself to completion- but then your eyes fly open again, fingers stuttering in your mouth and hips going still as your entire body stiffens, blood turning to ice in your veins.

The very real Kim Namjoon is standing in the doorway of your kitchen. There’s a look of utter shock on his face, his lips parted, eyes so wide it looks like his eyeballs are going to pop out of his skull, frozen in place. You don’t know how long he’s been there. You don’t know if he’s just walked in on you. Really, though, it doesn’t matter if he’s been there for five seconds or five hours- he’s seen everything, the way there’s saliva dripping from your mouth around your fingers, tank top barely hiding your lingerie, the way you’ve been bucking your hips against the dryer. Utterly desperate and debauched and depraved.

There’s a small, white plastic bag in Namjoon’s hands with a pretty strawberry logo on it, drooping further and further towards the floor as his arms go slack. You don’t notice it until it’s slipping loose from his fingers and landing on the floor.

Berries go rolling out of the sagged plastic and across the tiles but Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice. That single point of motion in the room seems to kickstart your brain into gear, your flight or fight response screaming flight, and you practically throw yourself off the tumble dryer. Your brain is entirely empty of logical thought right now and the only thing you can think of is that you need to get away and hide forever.

You rush past a still frozen Namjoon, stumbling down your hallway towards your open front door- you notice that the latch is stuck, not clicking into place when you’d come back inside earlier and leaving the door unlocked, you idiot. Namjoon always knocks and it must have swung open as soon as he rapped his knuckles against it, and you wouldn’t have heard it over your goddamn music. You absolute, utter idiot.

You’re not thinking about how illogical it is to flee from your own home to get away from someone. You’re just thinking about your escape. Taehyung’s flat is the nearest and it won’t take long to run there and you can survive without shoes; you’re still barefoot but you don’t have time to grab anything. You have to run.

You’re just stretching out for the door when you feel large hands grab you from behind. You flail, door swinging shut as your fingers brush against it before you’re being pulled backwards by the arms that have slid around your waist. You start to struggle, squirming in the hold, pushing at the hands trapping you as you instinctively still try to get away from the shame and embarrassment; Namjoon’s body is warm and solid against your back, his muscles effectively trapping you in place, and you can feel how his voice rumbles through him as he speaks, audible through the silence of your headphones.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never heard Kim Namjoon sound like this. His voice is authoritative, commanding. The part of your brain that acts on pure instinct- the part that just told you to go hurtling out onto the street without shoes- responds instantly, and you immediately go lax in his hold even though you’re still internally panicking.

“I was planning on going to the moon,” you say, unable to cover up how your voice is shaking, even if you’re trying to hide behind sarcasm. It’s your only defence right now. Your skin prickles with embarrassment. “Where else do you think?”

Namjoon lets out a chuckle, and your toes curl at how deep the sound is. “The mouth on you.” He sounds amused. You can’t look him in the eye. “Were you trying to get away from me?”

“‘Trying’ is the operative word.” You’re still staring resolutely at the door- it’s swung shut and the latch has actually clicked upwards this time. Traitor. “As you can tell, I’m not doing a very good job. The sooner I go, the sooner I get the paperwork started for my move to Fiji.”

“I thought you were planning on going to the moon.” Namjoon’s hold on you is still firm. You’re utterly helpless. “Changed your mind?”

“Going to open a diner in Fiji to raise funds for my moon mission. It’s a long plan.” The spike of adrenaline that had burst through you is already dissolving in your system, leaving you feeling limp and strung out. You can’t see Namjoon’s face with how your back is crushed against his chest; when you glance down all you can see is how big his hands are against your stomach. Despite yourself, you shiver. As panicked and embarrassed as you are, arousal is still trickling through you, and you hate yourself for the effect that Namjoon is having on you right now. You try to sound calm and unaffected as you continue to speak, but you feel breathless from the lingering pleasure tingling between your legs. “Can you let me go now, please?”

“Is that really what you want?” You’ve had your hands on his wrists from how you’d been trying to push them away, so you feel how one of Namjoon’s hands starts to slide downwards, slow as treacle, and your breath hitches as his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweatpants. They don’t go any further than that, palm splayed over your hipbone, but you feel your pussy clench at the warmth of his hands on your skin and a whimper slips out of you. “Or do you actually want something else?”

Your fingers dig into his wrists. When you open your mouth to reply, your words fail you and instead you just let out a little breath. You’re in utter disbelief at what’s happening right now, unsure of what’s going on- you’re not an idiot but there is no way that Namjoon is implying what you think he’s implying. Absolutely no way. Not a chance in hell. What?

As you continue to stay silent, brain trying to catch up with the situation, Namjoon doesn’t move.

“Use your words, baby,” he murmurs. “I need to know that you want this.”

Oh, fuck. When Namjoon calls you baby it feels like a switch has been flipped inside you; like he’s slipped a missing fuse into place and your entire body has lit up, full of energy and electricity from his touch. It’s overwhelming. “Of course I want this,” you confirm, trembling, and then: “I want you.”

Namjoon responds by finally moving his hand downwards. You watch as it goes, how he pauses when he makes contact with the fabric of your underwear, the unmistakable texture of embroidered lace under his touch. He drags his fingertips across the straps that cross over themselves, an arrow guiding him to his mark; your entire body goes tense when his fingers glance over your swollen folds, slick through the fabric.

You gasp. You’re still trapped against him by the strong arm curled around you, but your hands are free- you pull your headphones off and let them fall to the floor, twisting your head around so you can finally look at Namjoon’s face. His eyes are hooded and dark. He looks nothing like the cute and clumsy man who waves you good morning every day; he looks like some hungry animal, a predator who’s been waiting for the right time to swallow his prey whole.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. He gives you a small smile that’s more of a smirk, utterly at odds to his usual dimpled beams.

“You don’t have to settle for an old tumble dryer, gorgeous.” He kisses the bare skin of your shoulder, right next to where your bra strap is resting, eyes locked on yours. His lips are so soft and you shiver. “Let me help you.”

“I’ll have you know that tumble dryer was very close to getting me off, actually.” You’re so turned on right now but you can’t help the words slipping out; a lifetime of snark doesn’t leave you the second you start feeling horny. “So it’s less you helping me, and more you giving me something you owe me, seeing as you took it away in the first place.”

Namjoon’s silent for a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far- if you’ve run your mouth too much- when he hums. “Ah,” he says. “That’s true. You’re right.”

“Huh?” You say eloquently, surprised, but then he takes the hand out of your sweatpants and you whine. “Hey, put that back, you’re not done yet.”

Namjoon lets out a little chuckle. “No, I’m not,” he agrees. “But I want to see this pretty lingerie properly. You’re all covered up and that just won’t do.”

He punctuates this statement by taking both of his hands to your hoodie, where it’s been caught at your elbows, and sliding it off you. He drags his large palms down your arms as he does this, cool against your overheated skin; goosebumps appear in the wake of his touch and you shiver again. You have no idea what's going on right now. Everything feels like some sort of fever dream but you're not about to start complaining.

“If you’re about to see me in my unmentionables I’d least like a kiss first,” you say, pout audible in your voice. The truth is you’ve thought about Namjoon’s plush lips more often than you’d like to admit, how beautiful his mouth is, and it’s got to be illegal for Namjoon to have been touching you for as long as he has without letting you have at least one taste of his kisses. “Please?”

“Turn around, baby.” You instantly comply, all but throwing your arms around his neck as you look at him with an innocent, bambi gaze; he still has that half-lidded set to his eyes but you can see how that ravenous hunger is softened by his smile. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you say. You might sound like the protagonist to some cheesy romance film right now but the truth is that you’re still aware of the heat between your legs, the ebbed arousal that’s still coiling low in your stomach, and as much as you want to kiss Namjoon, you want to cum, too. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss m-”

Namjoon kisses you. He cuts you off mid sentence by slotting his mouth against yours, open around the word he swallows, and he immediately presses his tongue past your lips; you yield to him, letting him press his lips to your cupid’s bow as you lick his lower lip, soft and full. Just as good as you thought. No- better. His hands stay steady around your waist, but yours keep moving as you keep kissing- his shoulders, his nape, his hair, his jaw. Every part of him is so warm and solid against you and you just can’t get enough.

You slant your head to get deeper, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in a way that borders on lewd, rubbing against each other as you trade saliva, your mouth full of the taste of Namjoon. You swear there’s a lingering taste of strawberries. You feel better, a little more in control now that you know Namjoon will indulge you even if you’re being a brat, and you can finally chase the thing that got this whole sequence of events started.

“I wanna cum, Namjoon,” you murmur against his lips once you finally part, breathless from his kisses. “Will you help me cum? Please? Pretty please?”

Namjoon’s lip curls back from his teeth in a silent growl, and a shudder runs through you at the sight; seeing your usually composed neighbour act like this because of you is a heady sensation. “You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you,” he says, and your pussy throbs with need at his words.

“Jesus Christ, Namjoon.” Your eyes are wild. “I want you to fucking wreck me.”

You get no warning before Namjoon is literally sweeping you off your feet and you squeal in surprise when you feel them leave the ground, but Namjoon’s grip on you is steady as he lifts you in a bridal hold. You feel breathless at this physical representation of his strength- you’ve only seen his bare arms once (that had been a nice morning) before but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about how thick they are, as evidenced by the way he’s carrying you.

Normally you’d probably be chewing him out for lifting you without warning, but right now there’s a very base, animalistic part of you that goes belly up at the very obvious reminder of Namjoon’s superior power. The instinctual part of you that had initially told you to run away from him now seems entirely content with the fact you’ve been caught, and so you stay quiet in his arms. You cling tight to him as he walks to your bedroom without the need for directions, your flat the mirrored twin to his; you keep kissing his neck as he nudges the door open with his foot, running a hand down his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt.

He’s so fucking hot, what the fuck.

He’s hot, and strong, but gentle, too. When Namjoon sets you down he’s so careful even though he could easily manhandle you in any way he wanted, and you give him a kiss as a thank you. It’s a brief moment of quiet, that little kiss, but then Namjoon is pulling you back towards him and his hands are all over as he helps you strip; Namjoon’s eyes are heavy on your body as he drinks you in, finally wearing nothing but the lingerie he’s been so desperate to look at.

He sees the way the interweaving straps rest against your skin with the perfect amount of pressure, little swells letting him know that he’ll be able to trace the touch of lace on your body even after he’s ripped it off you. The lace cups of your bra do nothing to hide how your nipples are standing to attention, begging to be touched. But the most eye-catching thing, the thing that Namjoon can’t stop looking at, is how sodden the lace between your legs is; your inner thighs are slick with your arousal, shining, and you haven’t even cum yet.

“Look at you. So gorgeous,” Namjoon says. “Gonna make you cum over and over, baby.”

His hands feel so good against your skin as he skims his fingers over your panties, but he doesn’t take them off, and you let out a needy little noise. “Please,” you whine. “I need to cum, Joonie, been waiting so long.”

Namjoon watches as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra and reaches for your hands, stopping your motions. You blink up at him, confused, but then he’s turning you towards the bed and bending you over it, motions firm and undeniable; not that you would try to defy him, anyway. You brace your palms against the mattress and instantly arch your spine so that your ass is pushed out, enticing as possible.

You’re wondering if you’re going to have to beg for Namjoon to touch you but it seems what little patience he had has run out; his warm palms are immediately against your ass, touch reverent as he slides his hands over your skin, and you press back into that touch, wanting more of it. His hands skim up your sides and his fingers dance along the edge of your bra before reaching for the hooks, unfastening it so that it slips down your arms and onto the bed before you shove it aside.

He bends over you, chest broad and warm against your naked shoulderblades, arms coming around your body so that he can cup your breasts in his large hands; his palms cover so much of your skin, your sensitive nipples, and you gasp at the shock of sensation that shoots through you as he drags his hands over them before using his fingers to pinch the hardened nubs. You twist your head and make a little noise, and Namjoon obliges you with a kiss, grinning against your mouth with each desperate sound he muffles with his plush lips.

Eventually, though, he pulls away from you. You glance over your shoulder to see that he’s gotten to his knees, still staring at your soaking core, before he hooks one of his thumbs into the fabric covering your aching pussy and pulls it aside before pressing his mouth against you.

“Oh, fuck!” Your body goes weak and you slump forwards onto your elbows and shove your face into the bed, and Namjoon follows when this moves you away from him, tongue buried in your cunt as he eats you out with no mercy. He’s utterly shameless, noises slick and lewd as he drags his wet tongue over your entrance and clit, swallowing down all the arousal that’s leaking out of you, ravenous. You reach behind you with one of your hands to grip his hair, and when you grind back against his face he lets out a satisfied hum; you gasp at the vibrations against your lower lips, oversensitive from all your edging.

“Gonna cum,” you say, twisting your head so that your cheek is pressed to your rumpled blanket. “I’m so close, oh, God, Namjoon-”

He’s been rubbing his tongue up and down your clit in a particularly sinful way, and after one more particularly hard stroke, you finally, finally reach that precipice you’ve been reaching for all day. You shove your face back into the blanket as you cum, all your gasps and moans coming together in one long cry as your toes curl and you tighten your fingers so hard into your sheets you almost pull them off the mattress. Your entire body trembles as your cunt pulsates with pleasure, each ripple of your pussy feeling like it’s passing through your whole body, and Namjoon doesn’t let up for a second, lapping down each wave of cum that flushes out of you. You feel utterly weak as you flop forwards against the mattress, boneless and shaky, but Namjoon’s mouth is still on you and you let out a whimper, oversensitive.

“It’s too much,” you gasp. “Namjoon-”

He takes his mouth off you immediately. “Sorry, baby,” he apologises, pressing a kiss against the swell of your ass. You want to sag your lower body against the bed but his hands are keeping you up, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass and hips. “You just taste so good. Can you lie down for me?”

“Yes,” you say into the blanket, your voice a muffled slur. You’re so eager to please him even though you feel so weak from your post orgasm haze, and your muscles feel like jelly as you try to lift yourself onto the bed. Namjoon obviously notices how fucked out you are because he helps flip you over so that you’re on your back, staring up at him.

You continue to stare at him as he sheds his clothes. You let your gaze shamelessly rove over his body as it’s revealed- the honeyed tone of his skin, the muscles that shift underneath it, his shoulders, his arms, his chest, the long legs, the thick thighs, the trail of hair that dips down to his-

“Holy fuck.” Your voice is reedy with desperation, and Namjoon laughs.

His cock has to be the biggest you’ve seen in real life, long and thick, fully erect even though you haven’t touched it yet- the fact that you’re apparently arousing enough to bring him to full hardness is flattering, honestly. Even as you stare at it, it twitches, a dribble of precum oozing from the flushed head, almost an angry red from neglect. You watch, enraptured, as he circles his fingers around it; it doesn’t look any smaller in his large hands. He pulls on his cock, long and slow, before he spits onto it and fucks into his fist as you watch him, spreading the wetness over himself.

“Gonna fill that hungry little pussy with this cock,” he says. “Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl. Is that what you want?” Namjoon watches you as he thumbs at his slit, precum weeping from his tip. “Does my good girl want this cock?”

“I want it,” you beg. You do, you want it so bad. His mouth and lips and tongue felt so good but it must be nothing in comparison to how good it’ll feel to be filled up by Namjoon’s heavy, long cock. “Fuck, Namjoon, please, I want it.”

You lift your hips so that Namjoon can slide your panties off you. He stares at the strings of wetness that cling to them as he peels them away from your core, finally bare to the cool air of the room, and you suck in a breath. He wastes no time, climbing onto the bed and settling above you, cock swaying between his legs before he grasps it and tilts it towards your entrance.

You lift your hips again, tilting them towards him for an easier angle- and immediately cry out when he broaches you, head pressing past your entrance. You’re so turned on and flushed wet that the initial slide in is easy, but as he gets deeper and deeper you can feel the stretch, your pussy forced open for him, feeling like you’re being split open with how big he is- you’ll feel the burn tomorrow, but right now your body is ripe and ready for him to take you, cunt clenching as he bottoms out in you. You experimentally tense your muscles and the two of you gasp in a breath, shocked pleasure at the sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans. “You feel so good.”

He holds still for a moment to let you adjust, leaning down to kiss you. It’s deep and slow, tongue swiping into your mouth as you part your lips for him and let him take what he wants. When he leans back, all that softness is gone- your legs fall apart as he starts to fuck you, hips snapping forward as he ruthlessly presses his cock into you. He’s so big and he’s striking so deep it feels like you can feel him in your stomach, and you arch your back into him and cry out each time he strikes home.

The pace he sets is rough and aggressive, the slap of skin against skin and wet noises from his cock driving into your pussy filling the silence of the room, every part of you hypersensitive to every sensation- Namjoon’s weight pressing you into the mattress, the shaking bed, the rising smell of sweat and sex, the firmness of his hands on you. He leans back and you catch a glimpse of his hungry eyes before he puts his hands under your knees and hitches your legs up so that you’re practically bent in half when he fucks into you again- you cry out at the change of angle, how this lets him splay his large hand over the line of your hipbone as he starts to rub his thumb across your clit, continuing to fuck into the whole time.

“Gonna c-cum again,” you hiccup between thrusts, the air punched out of you each time that hot cock spears into you. “Joonie, gonna- gonna cum aga- oh!”

Your spine arches as your orgasm rips through you, coil of pleasure exploding like a firework as you cum for the second time that day, walls tensing around Namjoon’s cock; he continues to thrust into you, even when your cunt clenches so tight it feels like there’s no space inside you for his length. He keeps forcing your body open for him even as you keep falling apart around him, and you keep taking it, loving it. The only thing you can register is the delirious, mind-numbing satisfaction, sobbing out as Namjoon’s cock continues to fill you- you feel like he’s fucked you dumb, like your body was only made to be fucked by him, sloppy and open and wet. Each time he fills you up again it forces a noise from your throat, sounds of almost animalistic pleasure spilling from your lips, all semblance of coherent words gone.

When Namjoon pulls out of you, even though your body feels weak and limp and entirely fucked out, you whine at the loss. The next second, though, he flips you over, nudging your ankles apart before sliding back into you. The change of angle has him dragging against your sweet spot, balls slapping against your clit, overwhelming off the heels of just cumming, but you just take it, drooling into the pillow as your brain gives over to the all-consuming pleasure.

“So pretty when you cum around my cock.” Namjoon’s bent over you, murmuring praises that you barely register as he litters kisses over your shoulders and the side of your throat. “Greedy little pussy takes my cock so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Wanna be a good girl for you.” Your words are a slur, your brain foggy but eager to please, answering the question. “Joonie.”

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he says, lips pressed against your ear as he whispers filth to you, still mercilessly fucking into you. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with my cum. Do you want my cum, baby?”

“Wan’ it,” you moan. There’s heat curling in your abdomen again, pussy tightening as another orgasm creeps up on you, the promise of Namjoon’s hot cum filling you pulling you closer to the edge. “Want your cum, Joonie.”

His fingers tighten around your waist as he starts to jackhammer into you. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open even as his rhythm starts to falter, and after one particularly hard thrust your eyes roll back in your head as you tumble over the edge again, cumming so hard it’s a wonder you don’t pass out. You let out a strangled moan and Namjoon curses as you tighten around him, your entire body trembling under his hands as you give yourself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through you.

His rhythm falters before he lets out a shout and his cock jerks inside you as your tightening cunt pulls him into climax. Hot cum fills your pussy as he empties himself inside you, aftershocks of your orgasm drawing his seed deeper, painting your insides. You lie there and take it, face turned into the pillow as you focus on the sensation of his twitching cock, the way your body is milking him even in your exhaustion, like it’s desperate to satisfy him even when you can barely speak.

You shiver when you feel him slowly pull out. He’s stroking his hands over your skin, kissing your shoulder blades and nape as he turns you over, gentle as he touches you. “You did so well,” Namjoon praises, smiling at you. “So good for me.”

You still feel fuzzy but you latch onto Namjoon’s words as he kisses you on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. Words seem so hard to string together right now but you try your best, voice small and weak. “Did good?”

“Absolutely perfect, baby,” Namjoon says, and you let out a happy sigh. You stay quiet while Namjoon slips out of your bed before returning with a damp cloth. You let your muscles go entirely lax as Namjoon rolls you onto your back and gently spreads your legs; he watches as his own cum drips out of you before he gently swipes the mix of cum that’s smeared across your pussy, mindful of your sensitive clit. You bask in his touch, feeling like a cat bathing in sunlight as he cleans you up, stroking his hands across your skin.

He gathers you in his arms and continues to murmur praises between kisses and touches. You slowly come back to yourself as he keeps lavishing attention on you, skin warm against his, turning into his touch as your brain starts to flicker back on.

Namjoon brushes his lips against your forehead as your higher thought processes continue to fall back into place, although you’re still a little hazy. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You feel thoroughly fucked out after three back-to-back orgasms and your pussy feels raw and you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to walk in a straight line, but none of those things detract from how fabulous you feel right now. “More than okay. Wow. When I said I wanted you to wreck me, I didn’t realise you’d do such a good job.”

Namjoon smiles at you, and you finally get to indulge yourself, lifting a hand to stroke a finger across his dimples that deepen as you touch them. “I’m always happy to oblige,” he says, and you grin as you brush your nose across his neck, nuzzling into him.

“You really are the best neighbour,” you say. “Did you seriously come over to give me a bunch of hand picked strawberries? That’s what that bag was, right?”

“Of course.” Namjoon’s fingers continue to rub circles into your shoulder. “I thought you deserved a nice treat after a day of chores.”

“Oh, I feel very thoroughly rewarded,” you giggle, before pulling your head back to look Namjoon in the eye. “God. I was so mortified at the beginning, though. I seriously thought I was going to have to pack my bags and move away.”

“The strawberries wouldn’t be enough to persuade you to stay?” Namjoon strokes his knuckles down your cheek before resting his thumb under the swell of your bottom lip, pushing up a little so it looks like you’re pouting at him. “After I spent all afternoon picking them and thinking about you, and how lovely you’d look while you ate them with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

You relax into his touch, letting him rub the pad of his thumb over your lip, all but kissing his finger each time your mouth shapes itself around another word. “You think about me?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Namjoon says, stroking over your lip one last time before cupping your chin in his palm. “I don’t genuinely lose my keys as often as you think I do. Though I do still lose them a lot,” he adds, a little sheepish, and you laugh.

“So you’re saying that if I give you a spare key to my flat, I should have back-ups on hand just in case?” You tease, leaning into the hand that’s cradling your chin. “Good to know.”

“A spare key?” Namjoon looks a little taken aback, and you blink at him.

“Yeah,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Y’know, unless you want me to go back to using the tumble dryer.”

The hand that’s been on your shoulder tightens a little as Namjoon digs his fingers into your skin, possessive. That part of you that’s gone belly up for him preens at the attention, still eager to please him and make him happy, loving the sensation of being so desired by someone who you thought was out of your reach. “No.” Namjoon’s voice is a rumble in his chest. “I’ll make you cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”

“Mm.” You hum quietly before kissing his cheek, and then Namjoon uses the hand under your chin to turn you towards him and presses his mouth softly to yours. “You might regret saying that. I’m very demanding. Starting with this- do you want to go get those strawberries so I can have a taste?” You flutter your lashes at him, and Namjoon chuckles as he indulges you.

You watch the flex of muscles in his thighs and ass as he walks from the room, still in a bit of disbelief that you’ve touched him and kissed him and been so thoroughly fucked by him. Kim Namjoon is a ten course meal (not including drinks or dessert) but here he is, naked on your bed as he feeds you the sweet, ripe strawberries that he picked with his own hands, kissing the taste off your lips between each bite.

You feel utterly pampered and taken care of, reclining against the pillows as Namjoon feeds you another strawberry. You reach out for the largest you can see and return the favour, letting him lick the sweetness off your stained fingers and giggling at the sensation.

“The dryer’s finished its cycle, by the way,” Namjoon says after he’s finished kissing your fingertips.

“That’s nice,” you say as you carefully pick out another strawberry and rest it against the dark red flush of Namjoon’s lips. “But I’m busy feeding the world’s most beautiful man right now, so it can wait.”

Namjoon smiles at you, eyes lovely and warm as he parts his lips to accept the fruit, before leaning down to press his berry stained mouth against your own.

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #namjoon oneshot #bts x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #joy.masterlist

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julieandthe-stan-toms · 4 years ago

Text

You Shook Me All Night Long Pt. 2 | Luke Patterson x OC

Request: Sort of. Some people wanted a pt. 2

Word Count: 4878 words

Summary: Charlotte finally gets what she wants.

Warnings: Straight smut people. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT 18+. you have been warned. unprotected sex, possibly horribly written smut (I tried), cursing

A/N: This is probably the worst smut you will ever read. I'm not kidding. I've never written smut before and had no clue where to start and where to end with it.

"Charlotte, hey, what's up," Willie greeted me with what seemed like a forced smile.

I sighed at the skater and looked up at him in annoyance as I walked across the dance floor to the backstage area. "I'm not in the mood, Willie."

"What's wrong," he asked me in concern, following me across the room.

"What's wrong is I just got blue-balled by your boyfriend’s friend," I snapped out, looking over my shoulder at him with a glare.

"Luke," Willie questioned me curiously.

"No, Reggie," I told him sarcastically before looking at him in disbelief. "Yes, Luke. Who else have I been eye-fucking all night."

Willie widened his eyes at my choice of words. "I see."

"I mean I get that he most likely had someplace to be, but at least let a girl know a little bit ahead of time so she doesn't throw herself at you and almost give you a hand job in her dad's club," I ranted to him as we walked backstage and up the stairs to the rest of the hotel.

"Woah, Charlotte," Willie gasped out in shock at my words.

I scoffed at him and looked back at him as I walked up to the elevator to go to the top floor. "Don't sound so surprised, Willie. You've heard me say worse."

"Yeah, in private. Not so publicly like this," Willie told me, looking over at the elevator attendant who started the elevator to my floor.

"Well in public I am normally around my father, who likes me to be the sweet, innocent, little flower he raised up until he died. But he's not around right now, now is he," I smirked up at Willie as I started removing my headband and the pins from my hair.

"Well we don't want him to know of your extracurricular activities now do we," Willie said sarcastically as the elevator stopped.

"No, we do not. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. And, honestly, Willie, you act like I'm a delinquent or something. I just like to have some fun with the occasional guy every now and then. And by every now and then I mean every month or two. Gotta do something to make this undead life with my father worthwhile," I shrugged at the skater, walking out of the elevator and turning to look at him.

"I'm not fun enough," Willie asked me playfully.

"You are. Just not in the way I prefer at the moment," I smirked at him before turning to walk to the door that leads to my personal suite. "Goodnight, William," I called over my shoulder one last time as I walked down the hallway.

I sighed in relief at finally getting my dress and bra off for the night and being able to finally get into some pajamas. I walked over to my vanity and removed my jewelry, rubbing my earlobes after I removed my heavy earrings. I walked over to my dress that was sitting on the floor in front of my closet and neatly folded it up and placed it on the couch in front of my bed. I then walked into the bathroom and grabbed a hair tie to tie my hair up really quickly. I then turned the faucet on and waited for the water to heat up so I could wash my makeup off my face. However, a knock on my door echoed through my room. I groaned in annoyance and turned my faucet off. I then reached up and ripped my hair out of the bun I put it in as I marched from my bathroom, through my bedroom, and into the living room of my suite. I walked up to the door and pulled it open, looking up at the ghost in front of me with a raised eyebrow.

"Ms. Covington, you have a visitor downstairs. I know at this time at night you usually don't like to be bothered, but they're insisting," he explained to me quickly.

I sighed before nodding. "Alright, fine. Show them up."

“Yes, ma’am,” He nodded at me before walking back down the hallway towards the elevator.

I sighed in annoyance before closing my door. "Who in their right mind is here at 2 in the morning," I ranted to myself.

I walked back to my bedroom and grabbed a cardigan to place over my pajamas before walking back into the living room. I sat on my couch and waited for another 10 minutes before another knock sounded at my door. I got up and walked over to it and pulled it open with an expectant look on my face, but it quickly changed to shock when I saw who was standing on the other side.

"Luke," I gasped out wide-eyed.

"Hey, beautiful," he smirked down at me.

"You just couldn't stay away, huh," I smirked back up at him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the door jam.

Luke looked down at the ground and bit his lip before looking back up at me. "I was wondering if that offer to spend time alone together was still on the table."

I looked him up and down before nodding. "For you it always is."

Luke wasted no time in pulling me closer and pulling me into a heated kiss. It was messy, it was all teeth and tongues clashing together, but it was hot. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled at the hair at the back of his head, causing him to groan into my mouth. I let out a little laugh before kissing him again. I let my hand slide down from around his neck to the lapels of his denim jacket. I then gripped them into my hands and pulled him into my suite. Luke took one of his hands off my waist to reach behind him and slam the door shut before letting it return to its original spot.

"This is a, um, nice place you've got here," Luke breathed out against my lips in between kisses as I led him to my bedroom.

"I know for a fact you're not paying attention to my room right now," I smirked against his lips.

"What makes you say that," he breathed out.

"Because your little friend pressing into my leg says you're paying attention to more important things," I giggled out.

I pulled away from the kiss and pulled Luke the rest of the way into my room. I closed my double doors and locked them as Luke came up behind me and began attacking my neck with kisses and nips. I moaned in pleasure at the mixture of the love bites he was leaving and the feeling of his bulge pressed into my ass. Luke began grinding his crotch against my ass, wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me up as I held onto the handles of my doors for dear life.

"Luke, fuck," I moaned out, leaning my head back against his shoulder and to the side for him to have more access.

Luke groaned out and moved my cardigan and my tank top strap off my shoulder as he started kissing the newly exposed skin. I pushed my ass back into him, causing him to let out an even louder groan.

"I can tell this is gonna be an eventful night," Luke groaned out as we continued our synchronous movements against each other.

"Oh, you have no idea," I sighed out with a slight moan, turning in his grip and beginning to guide him over to my bed. "This night's just getting started."

I gripped Luke’s denim jacket in my hands once again and began pushing it off his shoulders. The ghost got the idea and quickly whipped it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. I laughed and began pulling my own cardigan off, letting it also drop to the floor. I began walking back towards my bed, pulling Luke with me, causing him to slightly trip over my cardigan on the floor. I giggled at him as he fell into me a bit before I pushed him against the side of my bed and he raised himself up onto the side of it before reaching out for me. He gripped my hips tightly in his hands and pulled me up onto his lap. I straddled his waist and pulled him into another kiss as I began grinding myself down on him once again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Luke breathed out against my lips.

“Good thing you're already dead,” I replied back to him before bringing our lips back together again.

Luke let his hands wander underneath my tank top before slipping them beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts. I moaned as he gripped my ass in his hands and felt his cold rings against the warm skin. Luke groaned and pulled out of our kiss, nibbling a little on my lip as he did so.

"No underwear," he breathed out to me in a questioning tone. I only smirked down at him in response, taking in his lust-filled eyes which widened a fraction at my actions. "God, you're so fucking hot."

I reached forward and gripped the bottom of his shirt in my hands. I slipped my hands underneath it and slowly ran my hands over his abs and up to his chest, pushing his shirt up with them. I then gripped it once again and pulled it off over his head. I looked down and ran my hands over his abs and up to his chest and down his arms.

“Right back at ya’, Rockstar,” I smirked at him.

Luke smiled up at me and went to lean in to kiss me again. I smiled back down at him and leaned in, letting our lips graze each other before placing my hands on his chest and pushing him down onto the mattress. Luke looked up at me wide-eyed as I leaned down and began leaving kisses along the span of his neck and down his chest. Luke groaned and bucked his hips up to meet mine again. I then began grinding myself down against him as I kissed down to his stomach. I looked up and made eye contact with him as I licked a trail up his abs, causing him to throw his head back with a groan. I kissed back down his abs to the top of his black jeans with his underwear peeking out of the top. I kissed along the top of his underwear and along his v-line before I pulled away. I reached down to remove his belt but paused at what I saw.

“A shoestring, really,” I sighed out in annoyance, looking at the knot tied in it.

Luke blushed up at me as he breathed heavily. “My belt would scratch against the back of my guitar and dig into my stomach while I was playing.”

I looked down at him in amusement before crawling up his body again and hovering above his face. “Well right now it’s an inconvenience,” I whispered to him, grazing a kiss against his lips before pulling away. I reached down and began trying to undo the knot holding his pants up. I sighed in annoyance at being unable to do so, causing me to look up at Luke who continued to look between my hands and my annoyed look in slight amusement. "This is starting to become a real turn-off." Luke threw his head back and laughed at me, causing me to huff and lean back down. "If your pants aren't off in the next 5 seconds you're going to have to handle your situation on your own," I whispered to him, gripping his bottom lip between my teeth and giving it a tug.

Luke's eyes widened at my words and he grabbed me by the waist and flipped us over. He was quick to stand from his place above me, causing me to lean up and look at him in amusement. I watched as he kicked his shoes from his feet, sending them in different directions in my room, while simultaneously trying to undo the knot in the shoestring holding up his pants. I threw my head back in amusement and smiled at him before moving to sit on my knees on the side of the bed. I watched him struggle before I heard him mutter a "fuck it" to himself and start to try to shove his jeans down his legs. I watched him struggle for a few more seconds before he was finally successful. He let out a noise of victory before kicking off his jeans and sending them flying across the room to a random place, much like his shoes.

Luke immediately stepped back towards me, looking up at me in my spot where I still knelt on the bed. I smiled down at him and brought my hand up to the side of his face, caressing his cheek with my thumb. Luke brought his hand up to rub up and down my arm before gripping my hand in his own. He brought his lips down to place a soft kiss on my palm before placing both hands on my waist. He gripped my tank top in his hands and pushed it up to my torso. He paused about halfway up and grabbed my waist in his hands.

I shivered at the feeling of his rings pressing lightly into my skin. Luke looked hesitant to lift my tank top up the rest of the way, and I bit my lip at the anticipation of what he could do next. I moved both of my hands to where his own was resting on my waist. I softly gripped his wrists and guided them to move farther up my waist, showing him that it was okay for him to continue. I let my hands run from his wrists, up to his arms, and around the back of his neck. I wrapped both my hands around his neck and pulled him closer to me. I rested my forehead against his own and the two of us continued breathing heavily before Luke leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. He pulled away and kept our foreheads pressed together as he slowly began to push my tank top the rest of the way up my body. He pulled away from me to pull my tank top over my head. He dropped it to the floor next to the bed and reached up to move my hair out of my face and tucked it softly behind my ears. He continued to look into my eyes as he placed his hands on my waist once again.

“You know you can look,” I whispered to him softly, running my right hand through his hair.

“Why would I look down when I have the most beautiful girl looking at me right now,” He whispered back to me.

I shook my head and laughed at him before moving my hand from his hair and placing it on his face, shoving it away from me. Luke laughed as well and turned back to look at me. He smiled up at me before moving up to place another kiss on my lips. One kiss turned into two. Two turned into three, then four, then five before he pulled away again and looked down at my bare chest. He let his right hand graze up my waist, causing me to shiver again. He looked up at me from under his eyelashes and let a smirk grace his face at my reaction to his touch. He stopped just underneath my breast and let his thumb graze underneath. I groaned at the soft touch and leaned forward to place my forehead against his again and wrapped my arms around his neck again.

“Fuck, Luke. Just touch me, please” I begged him, placing a peck on his lips.

Luke seemed like he was having an internal battle with himself. He moved his forehead from mine and placed it against my bare chest. I could feel his breathing against my breasts, causing me to let out another whimper. I trailed my right hand up into his hair and let it rest there. The only sound between us was our heavy breathing. Luke finally placed a peck on the top of one of my breasts and then the other before speaking again.

“Remember what I said earlier,” He whispered to me.

“You’ll have to remind me. There were a number of things you said earlier,” I breathed out to him.

“I said that I could handle any situation that has to do with you,” He reminded me. I held back a laugh at his reminder and waited for him to continue talking. “Turns out, you were right. I can’t handle any situation with you. Because I didn’t take into consideration how beautiful you could be without clothes too.”

“There’s no greater turn-on than a girl being told she’s right,” I joke with him, leaning down to place a kiss against his bare shoulder.

Luke chuckled against my chest before lifting his head up to look me in the eyes. “I wasn’t lying earlier either where I said if we start something I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I don’t want you to waste any more time. I want you to throw me down on this bed and absolutely rock my world like the Rockstar you are.”

Luke widened his eyes at my words before grabbing my face and pulling me into a heated kiss much like the ones from before. I moaned into his mouth and reached forward to grip the waistband of his underwear. I slipped a finger underneath and pulled it before releasing it, causing it to snap against Luke’s waist. Luke moaned at my action and began climbing back up onto my bed. I shuffled backward on my knees to make room for him, never breaking the kiss as I did so. Luke placed his hands on my waist after his climb and slipped them underneath my shorts again. He gripped my ass cheeks in his hands before beginning to slide my shorts down my legs. He brought them down to my knees before placing his hands on my waist again. He then gripped them and threw me to his right onto my pillows. I leaned back into my pillows and got more comfortable as he started climbing over me quickly. He paused in his movements and pulled my shorts the rest of the way off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

“Shit. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Luke groaned out, taking in my fully naked body.

“Imagine how much hotter I’ll be when you finally start to rail me,” I moaned out at him.

Luke moaned at the thought and leaned over me, placing his lip back on mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to where our chests were now touching. I moaned at the feeling of his necklace hanging down and rubbing along my cold chest as Luke moved from my lips down to the side of my neck. One of Luke’s hands moved from my waist and started making a trek up to my breast. He wasted no time gripping my breast gently in his hand and beginning to massage the mound in his hand. I moaned and trailed one of my hands up into his hair, gripping it tightly and giving it a tug. Luke held himself up with one hand as he started kissing from my neck down to my chest. He let his tongue trail over my chest until his mouth reached my right breast and let his tongue trail over my nipple briefly. I moaned at the feeling and closed my eyes as his mouth then wrapped around my right nipple. I could feel his teeth nipping and grazing the sensitive bud as he kneaded the other one before he switched between the two of them and repeated his actions again. I brought my legs up and wrapped them around his waist and took his distraction as a perfect opportunity to take control. I rolled the two of us over and looked down at Luke with a smirk.

“Hope you don’t mind if I take control again,” I breathed out, flipping my hair over one shoulder and then leaning down to kiss him again.

I started grinding my naked core against his still clothed dick and moaned at the feeling of his underwear rubbing against me. Luke reached up and gripped my hips, guiding me against him and setting a rhythm. I continued rolling my hips against his, him groaning, mixing with me letting out whimpers of pleasure and feeling his erection grow harder beneath me.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathed out against Luke’s lips.

Luke reached down and began rubbing from my clit to my entrance with his fingers, causing me to pause in my movements against him and place my head in the crook of his neck.

“Holy shit. You're so wet,” Luke said breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling as he continued his ministrations on my sensitive bud.

“Luke, I don't want to waste any more time with foreplay. Just pin me down to this bed and fuck me. I don't need time to adjust. I can take it,” I whimpered out to him, lifting my head from his neck to look at him.

“A-are you sure? Because I can make it quick,” Luke stuttered out quickly, letting one of his fingers slip into my soaking entrance.

I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut at the feeling before reaching down and gripping his wrist in my hand. I opened my eyes and looked Luke directly in his before withdrawing his finger from my aching cunt. I slowly brought his hand up to my mouth and delicately guided his finger in. I sucked myself from his finger and watched as Luke’s mouth dropped open as he watched me withdraw his finger from my mouth. I then gripped both of his hands in mine and pinned them down on the bed before leaning down closer to Luke. Our lips grazed each other and Luke leaned up to try to connect them, causing me to pull away quickly before leaning back down close to him. I gripped his bottom lip between my teeth and gave it a tug before releasing it.

“I am absolutely fucking positive that I want you to fuck me right now,” I whispered to him.

Luke gripped my hips in his hands and flipped us over once again. I stared up at him as he hovered over me before I gripped his necklace in my hand and pulled him down towards me. Luke connected our lips together softly and I reached down between us and gripped his hard member in my hand. I gave him a few pumps, causing Luke to pull away from our kiss and scrunch his face up in pleasure.

“I don’t have any condoms,” Luke groaned out.

I started laughing at him, causing him to look down at me in confusion. “We’re ghosts, Luke. We don’t need condoms. You think it’s possible to have a little ghost baby?”

Luke blushed when he realized what he said. “Give me a break. I’ve been dead for 25 years but thought it was still 1995 when I came back.”

I rolled my eyes at him before wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into another kiss. “It’s fine. Now rail me.”

Luke nodded and rested his forehead on mine before reaching down to line his member up with my entrance. Luke placed his lips back on mine as he slid himself inside of me, bottoming out in the single thrust. I released a moan into his mouth while Luke groaned and released a string of curse words. I felt a stinging pain for a few seconds before I began squeezing myself against his member.

“Shit, Charlotte,” Luke groaned when I did so.

“Your good to move. As I said, I don’t need time to adjust,” I whispered out to him breathlessly.

Luke nodded and pulled out before starting a slow, steady pace. I moaned at the feeling of him inside of me, completely filling me with ease.

“Is this alright,” Luke questioned me through a groan.

“Yes, Luke. Fuck. Yes. Keep going,” I moaned out to him, sliding my hands up into his hair, only causing him to pick up his pace.

I arched my back up into him at the sudden change in pace and squeezed myself against him once more. Luke groaned once again and I felt him twitch slightly inside of me due to my squeezing walls. Our chests rubbed against each other, causing me to moan at the feeling of Luke’s cold chain rubbing against me and my nipples rubbing against his chest every time he thrust.

“Fuck, Charlotte. Keep doing that,” Luke groaned out to me as he continued his thrusts.

“What,” I whimpered out to him.

“The squeezing. Keep fucking doing that. I’ve never had a girl do that before,” Luke moaned out to me.

“I will if you find a way to go deeper,” I moaned out to him.

Luke nodded, moving to change our position. Luke softly gripped one of my ankles in his hands and brought my leg up to rest over his shoulder. I cried out at the angle the new position provided, feeling Luke go deeper inside of me. Luke leaned down to place another kiss on my lips and I could feel him smirking through it. Luke increased his pace a little more once again and a sudden burst of new pleasure shoots through me when Luke suddenly places his finger against my clit and begins rubbing it in calculating motions.

“Luke, I still need more,” I whimpered out to him.

Luke leaned back up away from me, continuing his thrusts. I let out a scream at the intense pleasure I felt when Luke finally started hitting my g spot.

“Oh, fuck, Luke. Right there. Keep going. Don’t stop,” I screamed out to him.

I looked up at Luke to see him nodding at me, his face scrunched up from the pleasure being generated between the two of us. Luke's measured thrusts hitting my spot caused the pleasure to come over me faster, a knot beginning to build in my abdomen.

“Luke, I’m close,” I breathed out to him.

Luke groaned and sped up his ministrations on my clit and the speed of his hips. My breathing quickened at the intense pleasure between us, constant moans leaving my lips every time I breath out. Eventually, I finally reach the edge and fall over it, the intense pleasure I was already feeling multiplying by what felt like 1 million. I squeeze my eyes shut and my lips part as I release a moan and I feel the knot that was building inside of me snap. My muscles convulse and my walls begin fluttering around Luke. Luke performs a few more thrusts before he comes to a stop and releases himself inside of me. I moan at the feeling of him coating my insides, and more moans release from me as Luke thrusts a few more times to help the two of us through our highs. When we have both finished, Luke releases my leg from his shoulder and lets it drop to the bed before pulling out and letting himself drop to the bed next to me from exhaustion.

“Holy shit,” Luke breaths out, panting and staring up at the ceiling in euphoria.

“I think that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” I panted out to him, causing him to release a laugh at my words.

He rolled onto his side and looked down at me with a smile on his face. I pushed his now sweaty hair off his forehead before leaning up to place another kiss on his lips.

“I’m gonna go get a washcloth to clean you up,” Luke whispered to me.

I nodded up at him with a blissed-out smile before moving to pull my covers out from my bed and get underneath them. Luke returned from my bathroom a few seconds later and pulled the sheets back before running the warm washcloth across my sensitive entrance. Once he was done he rolled the washcloth up and dropped it onto the floor next to my cardigan. He then reached down and gathered his underwear and his t-shirt. He pulled his underwear back on before offering me his t-shirt. I smiled at him in thanks and accepted it before pulling it on over my head. I then grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the bed next to me. Luke laid down in my bed and I shuffled closer to him, throwing my leg over his waist and cuddling into his side. Luke wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close and placed a kiss on my head before the two of us fell asleep together, looking forward to waking up next to each other in the morning.

#charlie gillespie #owen patrick joyner #luke patterson #luke patterson smut #luke julie and the phantoms #alex jatp #luke jatp #Alex Mercer #jatp cast #jatp #jatp netflix #julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #alex julie and the phantoms

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saeyoungchoismaid · 4 years ago

Text

Hanahaki Disease

Pairing: Asmo x gn!reader Genre: nsfw themes in the beginning, angst, fluff Warnings: listening in on others having sex and masturbating is briefly and vaguely mentioned in the beginning. Mentions of blood. choking, suffocating, ‘dying’ Summary: Many choose to forget their love. You don’t know if you have that option. Word Count: 5.8k ObeyMAX day: July 10 - Asmo

Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from unrequited love. Flowers begin to bloom in your lungs, feeding off of the tissue, and using your nutrients as its own. If your feelings aren’t returned, the flowers will continue to grow until they suffocate you. The only cure, besides having the love returned, is to remove the flowers from your lungs. However, if you go through with this procedure you will lose all memories of your love. Many choose to forget, you don’t think you want to make that choice.

You clutch your pillow tightly as you listen to the moans and all other sorts of lewd noises leave Asmo’s room. You know it’s Asmo room for a multitude of reasons. One, the succubi has apparently never heard of using their indoor voice and is just saying Asmo’s name like a mantra. Two, your room is directly next to his room, per your secret request to Lucifer. You’re now regretting that request.

Before you can even think of any more reasons, which there are plenty of, you hear the succubi scream in pleasure which means they are probably cumming for the third time. It’s quite annoying actually. Mostly because you’re hating yourself for getting turned on. On one hand, you're sick to your stomach and can’t stand to listen to them.

On the other hand—well, that hand is currently shoved down your underwear. You can hear the way Asmo is moaning and grunting, his bed squeaking with each movement. Yeah, you’re pretending that your hand is him above you making those noises. It didn’t take long for you to start moaning softly, your body’s temperature growing as your pleasure does.

Amazingly enough, you and Asmo cum at the same time. Well, you’re assuming so. His moans got higher pitched and louder before slowly drifting off. You pant and open your eyes to find your dark ceiling, the cold room starting to creep over you.

Your eyes fill with tears as you go limp, your hand just resting inside of your pajamas as you cry. You eventually get out of bed to clean up, knowing you won’t be able to go to sleep feeling all sticky. This doesn’t stop you from crying. The longer you cry, the worst you feel.

You’re in the shower when it first happens. You start to cough violently, your tears going from sad, self-loathing tears to lack of oxygen tears. You lean against the cool tile as you practically cough up a lung, your body shaking in fear.

Something then falls past your lips and lands wetly on the floor of your shower.

You don’t even notice it at first, too busy trying to regain air into your lungs. Did you cry so hard you puked? You look down to find that the water is trying to carry something pink to the drain. You blink a couple of times before rubbing at your eyes. Maybe your vision is just blurred? Is it blood?

Once you rid your eyes of the rest of your tears, you bend down to get a better look. You still aren’t completely sure what it is, so you gently pick whatever it is up. You unfold the wrinkled object and then realize it’s a petal.

Your immediate reaction is to try to figure out what else it could be. A flower petal doesn’t make sense. Why in the world would it be a petal? Exactly. It wouldn’t.

You finish up your shower quickly after that and swiftly get out, bringing your petal out of the shower with you. You set it onto the counter and then wrap a towel around your body, staring intently at the puny thing.

Your next reaction is trying to figure out why you would’ve coughed up a petal. You tried reasoning with yourself. Maybe Mammon is pranking you again and put a petal into your food? But that wouldn’t explain you coughing it up. Maybe Lucifer used a spell to do this? But that doesn’t make sense either because he wouldn’t do something that would cause you harm. Maybe Solomon did a little magic? He doesn’t seem like the type to do something like this either though.

You sigh and hang your head into your hands, trying to think of any reason as to why this happened. It just leads to you worrying more though. What if you cough up more? How will the guys react? Should you even tell them?

You groan and decide to just deal with it in the morning. You do your after shower routine before going to bed, staring at your blank wall with a heavy frown on your face. It took awhile for you to fall asleep but you eventually managed to do it. Somehow.

“Good morning, my handsome brothers and lovely (Y/n),” Asmo greets as he walks into the dining room for breakfast. You keep your head down as you roll your eyes, trying not to bring attention to yourself.

But, of course, just like every morning, Asmo swoops down to kiss your cheek before taking his seat beside you. You don’t reply like you normally do though. You just keep your head down and remain silent. Asmo would’ve noticed if it weren’t for his brothers chiming in.

Satan noticed though.

“Ugh, I hate how chipper you are,” Belphie groans from his seat. Levi snorts and smirks at Belphie before turning it towards Asmo.

“He’s only so chipper because he got laid last night,” he says while chuckling. Mammon instantly gags and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t remind me. They kept me up all night. I even debated on making a deal with a witch to get my hearing to stop working.”

“That’s a great idea! Then, you wouldn’t hear us talk about you,” Asmo singsongs. They then start to bicker per usual. Being reminded of last night only makes you feel sicker. You nibble on your breakfast, feeling your appetite disappear with each word that leaves Asmo’s mouth.

Suddenly, you start to cough just as harshly as you did last night. You quickly grab a napkin and cover your mouth, your eyes filling with tears as you hack away into the white cloth. Satan is quick to stand up and come behind you, ready to do the Heimlich maneuver when you raise your hand to stop him, your coughing slowly coming to a halt.

You look down into your napkin to find another sopping petal, the sight of it adding weight to your already heavy shoulders. You quickly crumble the napkin up, not wanting anyone to see what lay inside.

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Satan asks, placing his hand onto your shoulder. His question makes all the others abrupt with questions of their own. You wipe at your watery eyes as you nod your head, clearing your throat before speaking.

“Yes, I’m fine. All of you calm down. My food just went down the wrong pipe. I’m alright,” you reassure with a warm, but fake, smile. Everyone relaxes at your words, making you relax as well since you weren’t caught.

“I’m not very hungry anymore though. Beel, you can have my share,” you say sweetly, giving him a genuine smile as you slide your plate over to him. He always makes you feel all mushy and happy. It’s just who he is.

He does that little chuckle of his in response as he happily takes your plate from you. “Thank you, (Y/n). I’m glad you’re okay,” he replies sweeter than candy. You ruffle his hair a bit before you look over at Lucifer.

“Is it okay if I stay home today? I’m not feeling too well.” Well, it’s not a lie but it’s not for what they’re thinking. He instantly nods his head as he stands.

“Yes, of course. That must’ve been a fright to choke like that. Do you want me to stay home with you? Do you need anything?” You smile at him now, feeling your chest swell a bit for how much he cares.

“No, no. You have to go see Diavolo today for an important meeting. I’ll be fine. I just have a bit of a headache now,” you say as you gently pat his shoulder before waving to the brothers and making your departure.

After school, there’s a knock on your door. You don’t feel like getting up from your moping party, so you just tell whoever it is to come in. You look over at the door to find Satan, a small frown on his face.

“(Y/n), I…” he trails off, looking around your room instead of looking at you. You sit up at how serious he appears, fear starting to crawl inside your mind.

“It’s okay. You can say whatever it is you have to say,” you say sweetly, sending him an even sweeter smile. He looks over at you and you can physically see his body relax at this. He slowly walks over to your bed and sits at the foot of it.

“(Y/n), what’s really going on? While I was at school, I was thinking about this morning and I discovered something. You barely even touched your food after Asmo came in. You were staring down at your plate and picking at your food until you started choking. You didn’t choke on food, did you?” he says softly.

You stare down at your blanket, mentally cursing Satan for how smart and observant he is. He caught on so quickly. Too quickly.

“No, I didn’t choke on food. If I told you the truth though…” you trail off just as he had done earlier. He decides to copy you as well.

“It’s okay. You can say whatever it is you have to say,” he whispers, gently taking a hold of your hand. He then adds on, “You can trust me with anything. You know that, right?” You look up at him then, a dumb smile on your face.

“It’s both a blessing and a curse to have you as a best friend,” you mumble, almost feeling like crying. He laughs and gives your hand a squeeze, nodding his head in agreement.

“I agree. So, what’s going on?”

You go quiet at his question, debating on telling him the truth or not. But, of course, he can also pretty much always tell when you’re lying. You decide to tell him everything, from taking the shower when it first happened to this morning. He listens intently and doesn’t interrupt, waiting to speak until you’re done speaking.

“You have the Hanahaki Disease,” he replies like it’s obvious. Your brows furrow at this new information, trying to recall anything you’ve learned about this disease. You’ve never heard of it though.

At your obvious confusion, he starts to explain. “Basically, you’re in love with a certain someone and since they don’t return your love, to your knowledge, your lungs are growing flowers, or something. I’m not completely sure about all the details. I read a book on it forever and a half ago. I’d have to do more research on it.”

You nod your head, relaxing and feeling yourself smile at having such a perfect best friend that will help you through this. Your smile fades though when you see his dark expression. “What aren’t you telling me?” you whisper.

He stays silent for a moment before speaking in the softest voice you’ve ever heard from him. “As I said, I don’t know all of the details…” he trails off to gather his thoughts before continuing, “but, if I’m remembering correctly, it can be fatal. There is a cure though.”

Your rising good mood suddenly plummets at this news.

“Fatal?” you mumble, your throat constricting at the thought of dying because of your stupid crush on Asmo. That airhead is going to get you killed! And for what?

You don’t realize you start crying until Satan starts wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “Shh, hey. Don’t cry. Why are you focusing on the bad? I said there’s a cure. I’ll leave and go do research on this. You’re not going to die, (Y/n),” he soothes, pulling you into a hug. You take a deep breath of his calming scent and nod your head, closing your eyes.

“Okay. Thank you. You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest. Your face vibrates as his chest rumbles with his laugh.

“You bet I am,” he replies playfully.

It didn’t take long for him to come back with answers, several books crowded in his arms along with a frown. “Well, that can’t be good,” you say softly as you sit up on your bed, which is where you’ve been hiding out from everyone.

“So, I was right. Hanahaki Disease can be fatal but there’s a cure. You’d have to get surgery to remove the flowers from your lungs or else you’ll suffocate to death.” Your brows furrow at this, seeing that he still looks apprehensive and maybe even angry?

“What else? There’s something else. I can tell,” you say softly.

“Well, you can get the flowers removed but if you do, you’ll forget about the person you love. You’ll have no memory of them,” he says softly. Your heart squeezes at the thought of not remembering Asmo.

“So, I can’t do that.”

“(Y/n)-”

“No, don’t ‘(Y/n)’ me. I’d rather die then forget A—him. He’s my love. I don’t…”

He sighs and walks over to your bed and sits down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Your head flops down onto his shoulder closest to you, a frown hanging heavy on your face as tears prick at your eyes.

“You can just say it’s Asmo. Everyone knows,” he whispers softly to you, bringing his hand up to comfortingly rub your back. You turn your head to cry into his chest, your breathing starting to become labored.

“Everyone except for him,” you sob, your whole body shaking. You cry for a while, holding Satan tightly as he holds you just as tight, if not tighter. Once you’ve cried your heart out, he speaks up again.

“Why don’t you just confess to him? I think he likes you,” he says as he pulls away, using his thumbs to wipe at your cheeks. You shake your head and grab his wrists to pull his hands away from your face.

“There’s no way I’m going to tell him. You know him. He brings someone home practically every other night and-” Your cut off by something forcing its way into your throat, causing you to cough and hack until you get the petal out. You spit it out into your hand, panting for air and letting your face cool back off.

“(Y/n), I’m serious. Look at you. You’re coughing up multiple petals a day. If you keep this up, it’ll go from every couple of hours to every couple of minutes until you’re choking on them and not being able to breathe,” Satan says gravely, his own eyes starting to sting as he thinks about you dying in front of him without him being able to stop it.

You smile softly at him and cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Hey, calm down. We’ll figure something out, okay? I’m sitting with the smartest man in the Devildom,” you soothe, taking deep breaths with him to help him calm down.

“(Y/n), I’ve already read a handful of books and they all say the same thing. Your love either has to reciprocate your love or you have to get the flowers removed from your lungs. There’s no other option. We don’t even know how long you have,” he pleads quietly, tears starting to leak from his eyes.

You sigh and shake your head, bringing your other hand to run through his hair, just as he had done for you. “Hey, don’t cry, okay? I’ll talk to...him. Alright? I’ll do it for you,” you promise. This makes him relax before he pulls you into another hug.

“Thank you, (Y/n),” he mumbles into your ear.

Later that evening, you're laying in bed and trying to coerce yourself into falling asleep which isn’t playing out so well. All your mind can do is play out scenarios of your confession to Asmo. What if he laughs in your face? What if he shoots you down without hesitation? All you can think about is negative outcomes. You can’t even imagine him returning your feelings.

But how could you? It’s obvious he’s not into you. Why would he be when he can have anyone he wants?

Next, your brain liked to play out the scenario of you choking to death right in front of everyone without being able to do anything. Your eyes start to sting with the want of tears, your fears slowly starting to consume you. Before you can think better of it, you quickly jump out of bed and run out of your room. The cool air of the big house hits your bare legs as you run through the hall.

You gasp for air as you reach his door, abruptly knocking on it as you lean against the wall next to it. He’s quick to open the door, looking at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you choking again?” Satan asks as he swiftly takes you into his arms. You shake your head as you start to cry into his chest, your whole body shaking violently. “Shh, it’s okay. I got you,” he reassures, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pulls you into his room. He sits you down on his bed, squatting down in front of you once you’re settled.

“Can I stay here?” you just barely whisper. You feel like a child who had a nightmare and is afraid of the shadows that lurk in the dark. Then again, that’s pretty much exactly what is happening. He instantly nods his head in agreement, smiling up at you as he soothingly rubs his hands through your hair when he stands up.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask,” he reassures. He then leaves the room for a moment before coming back with extra blankets and a pillow. Before he can walk past his own bed, you gently grab his wrist.

“I, um—you should sleep on your bed. I’ll feel bad if I kick you out of it,” you whisper, slowly starting to calm down more. He smiles more at you and sets the pillow and blanket onto the bed.

“Are you comfortable sharing then? Because I’m not letting you sleep anywhere else other than a bed,” he replies as he sits down beside you. You nod your head, sniffling and wiping your tired eyes.

“Yeah. I was, um, actually wondering if we could…” you trail off, your throat constricting a bit.

“Hey, c’mon. It’s me. You can speak freely with me,” he whispers, rubbing your back. You take a deep breath, nodding your head as you work up the confidence to ask him.

“Can we cuddle? I just...I’ve never done it before, and it would make me feel better that you’d be able to feel the signs if I started choking,” you reply in the softest tone possible, staring down at your lap. You look up at him though when he starts to chuckle.

“You’re too pure for this world. Of course, I don’t mind,” he promises, standing up to pull back the covers. He lets you crawl in first and get comfortable before tucking you in on your side of the bed. He then goes around to the other side of the bed and crawls in, making sure to be respectful of your boundaries and to let you come to him. Once he pulls the covers up his body, you slowly sidle over to him and tuck yourself into his side.

Having your best friend here supporting you like this is so reassuring that you can’t find the words to thank him even if you tried.

“Thank you,” you say simply, wishing you could say more. You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies.

“Don’t mention it,” he whispers back before you both fall into a comfortable silence and eventually drift off to sleep.

The only way to describe the next morning is pure chaos. Apparently, one of the brothers saw you two embracing in front of Satan’s room before he pulled you inside.

They, of course, all assumed the worst.

“What did you do to our innocent (Y/n)?”

“Do I need to get my knife?”

“Yeah, what did you—wait, Belphie. You have a knife?”

“Satan, unless you two are dating, this is highly inappropriate.”

And it just kept going. Asmo, for once though, is deadly silent. He wouldn’t even look at you two and just ate his breakfast. He didn’t give you your daily morning peck on the cheek either.

Starting to get annoyed, you huff and roll your eyes before shouting over them. “Can you hooligans shut up for ten seconds and let me explain?” Successfully grabbing their attention, you continue. “I just had a nightmare and went to his room for comfort. Nothing happened, you pervs,” you explain in deadpan.

You watch them all physically relax. Except for Asmo. He still seems wound up tight and ready to snap or break in half at any second.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Belphie, put your knife away.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed the worst and jumped to conclusions. I apologize.”

“Are you okay, (Y/n)? Was it a scary nightmare?” Beel asks, giving you some of his breakfast as an apology. This man is too pure to be a demon. You honestly feel terrible lying to all of them, especially him. Then again, it was basically a nightmare come true.

“I’m fine, Beel. It was...actually terrifying but Satan helped calm me down,” you reassure the sweet man. He smiles softly at you and pours you some juice before you can do it yourself.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). That must’ve been awful,” Belphie says next to Beel.

“And here we were throwing accusations at you two. I, once again, apologize,” Lucifer speaks up, bowing his head as he apologizes.

You smile at them all and shake your head, moving your hands back and forth in front of you. “No, no. It’s okay, really. I understand why you all had your suspicions. I’m sure it did look bad.” You take this chance to look at Asmo who is still staring down at his breakfast as he slowly scoops food up to his mouth.

You’ll have to ask him about it later.

All the brothers, minus Asmo and Satan, continue to apologize though until breakfast is halfway over. Then, after that, you all finally relax and talk as you normally do. You’re glad because you didn’t know how many more apologies you could take.

You’re walking towards your room after school when you hear Asmo yelling at someone. You pause by his door, not meaning to eavesdrop but you can’t help but to be curious. You jump out of your skin when the door flies open and out walks a succubus. They give you a dirty look as they leave, fully clothed and furious.

You watch them for a moment before looking inside the room to see that Asmo is standing at the door, a deathly grip on his door knob. You clear your throat and give him a small smile. “Hey, I wanted to ask how you’re doing. You seemed a little tense at breakfast and…” you trail off, looking down the hallway to where the succubus just disappeared as they turn, “plus, that whole situation just happened so—”

“How about you mind your own business and leave me alone?” he snaps, cutting you off. Your head whips back to him, your jaw dropping as you stare at him. Did he really just say that? Maybe a side effect of the Hanahaki Disease is hallucinations?

“What—”

“What are you, deaf? I said mind your own business! You’re always so nosey! What? Whoring around with Satan isn’t enough? Do you want to—” He stops in his tracks when your eyes start to fill with tears, his throat closing in on itself. Why is he yelling at you? You did nothing wrong. You didn’t spend the night with Satan because you wanted to sleep with him or something.

He still has a chance.

Before he can apologize though, you start to cough. He waits for you to stop so he can say how sorry he is but you just keep going. Suddenly, your coughing stops and there’s no sound escaping you. But why do you still look like you’re choking?

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” he asks quickly, not sure as to what’s happening. Are you pranking him?

Your face fills with color, becoming too dark for his liking. “Help! Someone help! Something’s happening with (Y/n)!” he screams at the top of his lungs as he wraps his arms around you. His touch sends the petal flying from your mouth and you get clarity for a moment before you start coughing again.

He helps you to lay on the ground, seeing that your legs are shaking and going weak. Your eyes leak fat tears as you stare up at him, not being able to stop what’s happening. You should’ve just told him how you feel and tried to get him to fall in love with you. You barely got any time to even decide what to do though. How unfair is that? Maybe it’s because he yelled at you and you thought for a moment that he hates you.

Satan is there within a few seconds, his eyes widening when he sees you choking. He knows how to do the heimlich maneuver, cpr, and anything else you could imagine but none of that will help you. He knows that but he feels his hands itch by his side to do something as he kneels next to you.

“Why are you just staring at them? Do something!” Asmo screams, fearful tears welling up in his eyes. You continue to cough below them and spit out petal after petal, the petals growing in size with each one that leaves.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Satan whispers, holding your hand in his and giving squeezes to help soothe you. He hopes it’s soothing anyway.

Asmo is beyond furious and devastated as he screams at his brother. “Why are you apologizing? Just help them!” Tears fall down his face and land on yours, calming your coughing with each tear. Satan takes notice of this and wipes at his eyes to get a better look at you.

“They love you! That’s why this is happening!” Satan shouts, seeing his other brothers race down the hallway towards all the commotion. When they arrive though, your airway is blocked once more and your face starts to grow dark. Asmo looks away from you to Satan, not understanding what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about?” he speaks his thought, his hands shaking as he pulls you onto his lap. They watch your eyes roll back into your head, your body slowly starting to grow still.

“I’ll explain later! They’re in love with you and you don’t return their feelings! You—”

“I do! (Y/n), I love you! I promise I do! Ever since you got here, I’ve been head over heels for you!” Asmo sobs, his chest aching with the raw feeling. He’s never admitted it before. He always just told himself it was lust, not the other L word.

They all look down to you, expecting you to breathe and wake right up with a bright smile. But you laid in Asmo’s arms completely still. Satan’s fingers go to your neck, his entire body feeling numb. “They have no pulse!” he panics, going up onto his knees to stare down at you.

You’re supposed to be okay! Asmo confessed his love for you and you’re supposed to be healed! So why aren’t you breathing? Was he too late? Asmo starts to sob, already assuming the worst. Satan keeps staring at you, trying to find a loophole or an unknown answer. His other brothers stand around them and silently cry, not really sure what’s going on but knowing by your still body that it’s not good.

Satan then sees the pink flowers deep in your throat, a gasping flying out of him as his hand goes to your mouth. Everyone watches as he shoves his hand into your mouth before struggling to grab something. He grabs the flower and retches it from your mouth, staring in awe and disgust as he pulls the flower free from your throat. An entire flower connected to a stem comes from you, your chest tugging a bit when Satan reaches a certain point. He yanks harder and the flower suddenly comes free, revealing roots that were stuck inside of your lungs.

“Kiss them,” Satan whispers, hand dropping the flower by your body. The flower is covered in blood and spit, soaking the floor as soon as he drops it. Asmo doesn’t hesitate to kiss you, wanting you to live so he can do all the things he’s been dying to do.

He places a delicate kiss onto your lips, the biggest weight imaginable leaving his shoulders as he finally gets to kiss you. He just wishes it was under different circumstances and that you could actually return it. Your lips felt cold against his but he could care less. Tears are still streaming down his face and landing on yours, sliding down your cheeks towards your hairline.

His eyes snap open when your lips just barely move against his. He would love nothing more than to keep kissing you but that small movement had him pulling back. You gasp for air, your red eyes flying open. You cough and make them all panic that it didn’t work. But then your coughing stops and you’re just laying there and staring up at the ceiling while you get air into your desperate lungs.

Your eyes then move to your love, new tears filling your eyes. Asmo thinks maybe you’re upset with him and that’s why you’re crying. It makes sense to him. You almost died because of him.

“This is the happiest moment of my life,” you whisper hoarsely. Everyone immediately relaxes and even glares at you a bit for scaring them and then saying such a thing.

“You’re such an idiot,” Satan cries, pulling you out of Asmo’s hold and into his own. You weakly return the hug, chuckling quietly to yourself.

“But I’m your guys’ idiot,” you mumble, growing tired as soon as you get all the air back into your lungs and your heart has calmed down.

“You should rest. I’ll explain to everyone what happened,” he says as he pulls away, looking to Asmo. He’s assuming that he would want to help you now that you two are an item. Well, he assumes you are.

“I’ll help them. You can inform me later,” he says softly, gently taking you back into his hold. He brushes your hair out of your face, the softest look imaginable gracing his features. You smile tiredly up at him, leaning into his warmth.

He then helps you up and starts to lead you to your room. “Can we go to your room?” you whisper weakly, feeling him instantly go back towards where you were laying.

“Of course, my love,” he reassures, leading you to his open door. You look to Satan who picks up the wet flower with his already dirtied hand.

“Wait,” you call out. It wasn’t as loud as you hoped but it still got all of their attention. “Can I keep it?” you ask. They all stare at you as if you grew a second head. You just keep your focus on Satan though who is studying you silently from the floor.

“Yeah, of course. I don’t really know why you’d want it though…” he reassures as he gets off of the ground. You smile and lean into Asmo’s side, your eyes tracing the flower.

“It’ll be a reminder that our love prevailed,” you say softly, warming all of their hearts up. Satan smiles at this and nods, sending you a thumbs up with his free hand.

“I’ll clean it off for you and leave it in your room,” he reassures. You thank him before letting Asmo lead you inside and close the door behind him.

“Do you want a bath?” he asks, leading you to the bed to let you sit down. You think about it for a moment, looking down at your body. You could use one, since your shirt has your spit and little drops of blood on it but you don’t want him to see you naked for the first time like this.

You shake your head and weakly point at his closet. “No, I’m okay. Can I just borrow one of your shirts?” you ask unsurely. He instantly smiles and nods as he makes his way to his closet.

“But, of course! I just know you’ll look perfect in my clothes!” he says cheerfully, starting to act more like his usual self. He pulls out a sweater and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. Lucky for you, you’re just in your uniform. You can easily get another school shirt to replace the ruined one.

He walks back over to you and hands you the clothes, sharing a loving smile with you before walking back to his closet to get himself clothes. He keeps his back to you when he hears something drop to the floor, knowing it’s your clothes.

“Can you...help me? It’s hard to lift my arms,” you say softly, a dark blush spreading across your cheeks. He turns to see you in his boxers and still in your bloody shirt, your bottoms on his floor. He shines a smile at you as he walks over to you once more, ready to assist you.

“I’ll do everything I can to help,” he promises. He goes behind you and places his hands on your waist, silently asking if he can take your shirt off. You nod your head, letting him remove it for you. He keeps his eyes to the back of your head, knowing now isn’t the time to thirst over your body.

He helps you pull the sweater over your head and get your arms through, kissing the side of your head when he’s done. “Sorry. It’s just hard to—”

“You don’t have to apologize. All of this is my fault anyway,” he reassures, standing up from the bed to get changed out of his uniform. He hears you lay down, turning to see that you’re giving him the same privacy that he gave you. You’re so precious.

He quickly changes into something comfortable before swiftly going back to the bed, pulling his satin sheets and smooth covers over your delicate body before sliding in behind you. He then snuggles into your back, inhaling your scent as he closes his eyes.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” you whisper, your voice the only sound in the quiet room. His brows furrow as he opens his eyes back up to look at the back of your head.

“What? How can it not be my fault?” he asks confusedly.

“I’m the one who kept it to myself and didn’t tell you,” you mumble. He sighs and tightens his grip on you a bit.

“Hey, don’t stress over it now. It’s all over. You’re mine and laying in my arms. I…” he trails off for a moment, steeling his resolve before saying the three words, “I love you.” He pushes his face into your hair as you reply.

“I love you more,” you promise.

┍━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┑ MASTERLISTS

More with Asmo

Tag List: @mexicanmagick, @animefreak-247, @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, @niphredil-14, @gamelovers-posts, @virtualmemmecollector, @collarjessie, @officialdevorak, @katelynwithpaint, @buzzybeebee ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask :)

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

Text

I Swear It

Summary: He didn't hate you — you just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: language, slightly ooc!Reiner in the beginning (I think), unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), so much angst, slight dubcon. Word Count: 1.8 k

A/N: What’s this, two one-shots in a day? Best not get greedy lmao, but this is the saddest piece I’ve written so far. I’m gonna have to give Reiner some good things in the future.

Reiner was done. He was so sick and tired of the fighting, the war, the discrimination. He didn't want his little cousin to inherit the Armoured Titan, but he didn't want Falco to have it either. He hadn't slept in days — whenever he closed his eyes the faces of the people he'd killed popped in his mind, giving him terrifying nightmares. He could blow his brains out, the appeal of suicide enticing him like a mirage in a desert. But then there was you, the kindest woman he'd ever met and the best doctor in Marley. You treated him with so much compassion that his mind thought you were playing disgusting psychological tricks on him. You weren't an Eldian, yet you treated Eldians with respect. You were the only person, aside from his family, who anchored Reiner back into reality, and the only reason he didn't end it all was because he wanted to see your radiating smile again.

When Marley took Fort Slava, you were there, patching up soldiers, good as new, your Y/H/C clipped back, dirt, sweat and blood on your beautiful face. When the army returned to Marley, you were there, carrying soldiers with other nurses, managing the hospital and taking care of the injured. Reiner took lives, like an angel of death, while you fixed the unfixable, like an angel of life. But you happened to walk in on the titan shifter at the worst possible time, gun in his mouth, tears on his cheeks, dishevelled and broken. Instead of your usual smile, he was greeted by shock and anxiety and he dropped the gun, arms hanging by his sides, eyes exhausted. You closed the door behind you and brought a chair from the corner of the room, no words spoken until you sat down in front of him.

"Give me the gun, Reiner." You urged him, voice meek but demanding.

"No." Traces of anger in his voice, you extended your hand, palm facing upwards.

"Please, just give me the gun and we can talk-"

"Talk?" The man mocked you, fingers tracing the barrel. "When did that ever help?"

"It does help if you give it a chance." You tried but he wouldn't listen. Head tilted slightly to his left side, he pointed the gun at you.

"They don't have guns on Paradis."

"R-really?" You stuttered, eyes glued to the gun, heart almost beating out of your chest. "What do they have there?"

"Families. Children. Loved ones." Reiner scoffed. "And lots of corpses. All because of me."

"It's not because of you-"

"Are you sure, Y/N?" He lunged at you, pressing the gun into your temple. "You weren't there to see it, to hear their screams of terror." The man walked behind you and you heard the key click in the door, the hairs at the back of your head standing up.

"That's why you need to talk about it." You tried again, too afraid to turn around.

"Why, so you can tell your superiors?" Reiner propped the gun at the back of your head. Panic instilled in you and you let the tears you've been holding back to roll down your face.

"So you can let it all out." You told him between sobs.

"Let it out, huh? No, Y/N, talking's not gonna help." And then you heard it — the zipper of his beige uniform trousers coming undone. "Take your shirt off."

"Reiner..." But the gun pressed harder.

"I said take your fucking shirt off."

You didn't have much of a choice and your trembling hands moved to the first button of your white shirt. Reiner walked back to the chair, gun still pointed at you.

"You don't have to do this-"

"Why did you have to be a Marleyan?" He cut you off and your eyes found his, confused at the question. "Better yet, why did I have to fall in love with the wrong person?" The second question caught you severely off guard, but you saw an opportunity when he lowered the gun, his grip around the handle loosening. You propped your hands on the chair and with all your gathered strength, you kicked the gun out of his hand, the weapon sliding under the hospital bed. You both stared at each other in confusion for a good second before you both dashed to grab the gun, your thinner arm reaching the weapon quicker.

"One missed shot and every man you saved dies." Reiner threatened as you aimed the gun at his head, your shirt unbuttoned, allowing him to see your exposed bra.

"Take your shirt off, Reiner."

"What?"

"You heard me." You lowered the weapon, pointing it at his chest. "You were right." You watched him like a hawk, brow quirked at his perfectly sculpted torso. "Talking isn't going to help." You threw the gun on the bed and leaped into his arms, pulling him into a ravaging kiss, careful not to draw any blood from the way you bit his lower lip.

"Why?" Reiner asked, pushing you onto the bed, fingers digging into your shoulders.

"Why what?" You asked back, fumbling with the belt.

"Why didn't you just leave? You had the upper hand." He sank his head into the curve of your neck, hungry kisses tingling your skin.

"Because," two fingers gently pushed his chin upwards and you looked him in the eye, "I also fell in love with the wrong person."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry... I don't know what's gotten into me."

"Hey, hey, it's alright." You looped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a comforting embrace. "You're a warrior, Reiner. I've seen exactly what this war is doing to people, good people." Your chin rested on his shoulder, your hand gently caressing his back. "But please, promise me you'll never point a gun at yourself. Promise you'll talk to me."

"I swear it." He pulled back from your arms and kissed your forehead. Your hands moved from his shoulders, down his abdomen and stopped at his bulge. "Can I... can I make love to you?"

"Yes."

Reiner's hand tugged at your bra, pulling it down slightly, enough for your breasts to bounce out of it. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and you threw your head back, your fingers trying desperately to unclasp the stupid belt. He laughed at your struggle, the sounds vibrating against your skin, and undid it himself, his trousers and underwear pooling at his knees. You lifted your skirt up and spread your legs, offering Reiner the view he'd so strongly desired. His eyes darted at the wet spot on your white panties and hunger filled his gaze. You pulled the undergarments off of you as he pressed gentle kisses on your knees.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N. I'll never understand why you chose to fall in love with me." The man's hand snaked around your thigh, his other palming your wet folds.

"I can't choose who to fall in love with, Reiner, but if I could, it would still be you." You smiled, your lips quickly turning into an O as he gently pushed one finger into your cunt. You didn't know how much your words meant to him, how they fought with his desire to die. Another finger and you flexed your muscles, hands gripping the sheets on the bed.

"Fuck, you're so wet." Reiner marvelled your spasms. You were definitely not his first woman, you'd sometimes spot him at brothels as sorrow filled your soul, but you were definitely the first woman he loved.

"Please..." You whimpered and he shot up, worried he'd hurt you. "Please make love to me, Reiner..." You begged him, eyelids drooping and thirst in your voice. His cheeks flushed crimson, albeit being used to prostitutes asking him to fuck them, but they weren't you. They never were. He positioned himself between your supple thighs, cock hard and eager to thrust into you. Reiner looked at you, as if waiting for approval, and you nodded, your hands gripping his muscular arms. He pushed the tip first and stopped as your walls stretched and adjusted to the girth, then thrusted some more. The expression plastered on your face encouraged him not to stop and he found a pace comfortable for both of you. His hands were propped onto the bed, your head between them and you looked him in his amber eyes. They didn't do a good job at hiding the pain and trauma he's been through, but it showed to you that he was only human. Not the spear and shield of Marley, not the Armoured Titan, but Reiner Braun, the man whose wounds you treated, the man you grew close to, the man you missed, the man you loved.

"Shit, you're so tight." He whispered in your ear and you wrapped your legs around his waist, telling him to go faster. You weren't a virgin by any means. In fact, you tried being in a relationship with a Marleyan while he was gone to Paradis Island, but you couldn't keep up with the charade and broke it off in less than two months. His thrusts made you realise who you truly belonged to, and it was none other than him.

"Reiner, I–"

"Love you." The man admitted as you came undone all over his cock, your fingers digging deeper into his arms. He stopped thrusting, instead he held you close to his chest. You felt his beating heart and tears formed at the corners of your eyes, knowing that your love was meant to be kept a secret.

"I love you, too." You told him, your forehead resting on his collarbone. None of you dared to move, afraid that the only moment of peace you both had in a very long time might end. Your head pushed harder into his chest, forcing Reiner to lean on his back as you removed yourself from his cock. You moved backwards on all fours, hovering over his member, tears falling on his naked body.

"What are you doing, Y/N?"

"I wish we could have a family together." You told him before taking him into your mouth. His head tilted to the side, realising that you made a smart choice by finishing him off with your mouth. Had he spilled his seed into you, you'd both be dead. Reiner's breath hitched as your head bobbed up and down faster, faster. The hot liquid tickled your throat and you swallowed every last drop, not wanting to risk anything.

"This isn't going to end well..." The man sighed.

"I know."

He leaned forward and embraced you, his touch needy yet grateful. You returned the embrace, quietly sobbing into his arms.

"I want you to know that I'll always love you." Reiner stated, and it felt like a promise.

"Please, come back to me. Whatever happens, come back to me, Reiner Braun."

"I swear it."

#reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner smut #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #snk #snk smut #snk x reader #snk fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin

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