#only he could pull me away from playing the game I’m currently fixated on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shadowtriovibes · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I’ve never requested before so hope I do it right. Can I get an Ominis x F!reader where he discovers he has a biting kink? Thank you!!

take a bite

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 2k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, references to oral sex, slight #dominis, biting kink

Summary: sequel to "take my hand" in which you and Ominis play around with his biting kink, this is just pure smut with lots of teeth xoxo

“The other girls are starting to worry about me,” you joke. “Yesterday Garreth even asked if I’ve been garroted by an Ashwinder.” "What? Why?" he asks, sitting back so you can see the puzzled frown on his lips. "Because I’m positively covered in bruises,” you remind him, taking his hand and pressing it along your neck. “And not small ones, you cad." He at least has the decency to blush while he ducks his head.

If you’d thought that you’d created a monster out of Ominis after that first time, you were in for the shock of a lifetime at what he’s become.

You think his desires might even put Sebastian to shame, and that’s truly saying something. He wants you always – in between classes, late at night (when he can distract you from your studies), and even in the mornings when you stay overnight in the Room of Requirement.

After that first time, he can hardly think of anything but his hands on you, or yours on him, or your mouth… Merlin, your mouth.

Despite how game he’s been to try new things, you note that one thing about that first time has remained the same, and that’s Ominis’ oral fixation.

However, you come to realize that perhaps it’s not just about using his mouth. In fact, it’s mainly his teeth.

If you didn’t know any better, you might wonder whether Ominis is at all vampiric. Admittedly, you know very little about vampirekind having missed your first few years of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and they aren’t common in the Highlands.

But you aren’t the only one who has had that thought. You know your classmates have remarked on his pale skin, his preternatural ability to hear and perceive the world around him, and, despite his enduring kindness, his family’s reputation for abusing the Dark Arts.

However, you know he’s much too sweet and loving a man to be anything but human.

So, not a monster, you think. Just a biter.

It’s not that you mind. You can’t help but shiver every time he nips at your bottom lip while he’s kissing you, or when he makes his way down your neck and starts to work bruises and bite marks into your sensitive skin.

The other Slytherin girls in your year had quickly taught you how to make use of a scarf to hide any particularly egregious marks, giggling about how your Ominis must like to mark you up to let the boys who glance your way know that you’re utterly taken.

But that just makes you wonder… is it about the bruises? The ones he can’t even see?

Or is it about the act?

“Ominis,” you breathe one night, your head tipped back against the headrest of the plush armchair you conjured by the fire in the Room.

“Yes, love?” he mumbles into the hinge of your jaw, where he’s currently hard at work marking you up further.

“The other girls are starting to worry about me,” you joke. “Yesterday Garreth even asked if I’ve been garroted by an Ashwinder.”

“What? Why?” Ominis asks, sitting back so you can see the puzzled frown on his lips.

“Because I’m positively covered in bruises,” you remind him, taking his hand and pressing it along your neck. “And not small ones, you cad.”

He at least has the decency to blush while he ducks his head.

“I didn’t know they were that bad,” he counters. “You should have told me, I can stop for a while and let them go away.”

“Don’t blame me, cheeky,” you croon, gently cupping his chin to pull him in for a kiss. “I could tell you liked doing it, but I didn’t realize just how much you like it.”

“It’s just – a nice feeling,” he admits.

You’ve been resolute in insisting the two of you talk about what you enjoy together and what isn’t your favorite, because despite his protests Ominis is a bit too proper to easily tell you what gets him off.

“What is?” you encourage him. “Using your mouth on me?”

“Using my mouth,” he agrees, leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “And my teeth.”

“I wondered,” you whisper, trying not to talk much to preserve his canvas for him as you lean back again. You gasp when he bites over the column of your jaw – softly, but enough for you to feel his teeth leave indentations in your skin.

“I don’t know why, it’s just… I can’t help myself,” Ominis tells you, his hands on your hips gripping you tighter. “Do you dislike it?”

“Does it sound like I dislike it?” you quip, pressing down against his lap to let him know just how much you do not hate what he’s doing.

“Just here?” he asks, tugging the already messy collar of your shirt further to the side. “What about the rest of you?”

“Why don’t you find out?” you challenge him.

Wordlessly, he traces his lips along your skin until he finds your collarbone and bites down, and you whine out loud, grinding down hard against him.

He curses softly and bites again.

“Ominis,” you whine, tangling your fingers in his tousled hair. “Keep going.”

“Take off your clothes first,” he counters, and you quickly start undoing the buttons on your school shirt while he takes care of his own, tugging his tie loose and tossing it over his shoulder. Then he helps you tug your skirt off, smirking dangerously when he runs his hands up and down your sides to discover that you’d foregone underclothes.

“Were you expecting something, love?” Ominis asks you knowingly.

“Just trying to be efficient,” you breathe, dropping yourself back in his lap.

You arch your chest toward him so he’ll keep going, and he’s quick to put his mouth back on you – this time at the curve of your breast, where he’s usually so careful.

“You can bite,” you murmur.

“But you’re so soft here,” he says, tenderly kissing your skin and gently dragging his thumb over your other breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb.

“So be careful,” you tell him, tangling your fingers in his hair. “I want you to, Ominis.”

You both know that there’s very little he won’t do if you use those words on him.

Carefully, he nips at the curve of your breast and then a little harder when you hum, pleased. He’s so tender with you, listening intently for any discomfort while he buries his face against your chest and gives you bruises to match the necklace he’d already given you.

By now you’ve ruined the front of his trousers and Ominis can hardly take being separated from your bare core by the layer of his uniform pants anymore. He pauses his work on you to pull his cock out and trace the tip of it along your slit, feeling for himself just how wet he’s making you.

“Want to stay in my lap like this so I can keep going?” he offers, one hand sneaking behind you to your ass as if to help lift you up onto him.

“I have a better idea,” you offer. “Come with me.”

Raising his eyebrows, Ominis takes your hand as you climb off his lap and walk him over to your bed. You make no move to push him toward it, so he waits as patiently as he can while you murmur a quick modification charm to raise it up a little higher.

Then you lean onto the bed, resting your head on your forearms with your ass on full display, and call him toward you.

“I rarely get jealous of sighted people anymore,” Ominis murmurs as he lays his hands on your curves. “But I really wish I could see you right now.”

“You can touch me,” you say softly. “And you’re the only one who can do that.”

“That’s certainly better,” he agrees.

Taking his cock in hand, he slowly presses inside you, earning a desperate moan from you as you force yourself to relax for him. In this position, he feels impossibly long.

“Ominis,” you whine, and he pauses.

“Just a little more, love,” he murmurs, sounding just as ruined. “Please, let me? I know you can.”

“I want you to give me all of you,” you grit out. “And then I want you to bite me wherever you can reach.”

Merlin, maybe you’re the monster after all, you think.

Helplessly, Ominis presses all the way in and nearly collapses over you. You feel his lips brush against the back of your neck, his hands frantically shoving your hair out of the way so that there’s nothing between you two.

Then he bites down right on top of your shoulderblade.

“Yes!” you wail. “Move, Ominis, don’t stop.”

You hear what sounds more like a growl then a moan while he starts to fuck you in earnest, biting his way from one shoulder to the other in a way that isn’t practiced or careful but still feels so delicious.

“You taste…” he mumbles into your skin. “Fuck, I can’t stop, love.”

“Don’t, don’t ever stop,” you beg, practically delirious.

Ominis isn’t used to hearing you beg. Usually you’re the one demanding what you want from him, guiding his hands where you want them or coaxing him into kissing his way down between your thighs.

You think he quite likes that your roles are reversed for once, if the way he grinds into you a little viciously is any indication.

He fucks you deep like this, over and over while he bites all along your upper back. You’ll be covered in bruises after this, you think, but no one will ever see them.

You whine pathetically when Ominis leans away from you, but then you feel his fingertips skim across where his teeth had been as he traces the marks along your skin, examining his handiwork.

“Mine,” he says softly, and that nearly puts you over the edge.

“Make me come, please,” you whimper, feeling desperately unlike yourself in this vulnerable position, entirely dependent on Ominis’ whims to get off.

“Come here,” he grunts, and he slides his hand up your back until he can gently tug on your hair at the base of your neck to get you to arch up just a bit.

He leans down and bites teasingly at your earlobe. “Can you come like this?” Ominis asks.

“I think so,” you breathe. “Just — touch me, I need you to touch me.”

“Here?” he asks, sliding his other hand between your hips and the bed to press his fingertips to your clit.

You nearly sob, already so bewilderingly close. “Please!”

“Good girl,” he mumbles into your shoulder, and right before you tip over the edge, he bites down hard.

You shout into the mattress while you come, pinned between Ominis’ hips and his mouth. The first thing you notice when you can think clearly is that your legs are shaking, and you honestly wonder whether they’re about to give out.

“Just a bit more,” Ominis grunts, finally letting go of you so he can hold your hips steady for him. “Let me come, love, let me finish inside.”

“Anything you want,” you slur, which would be embarrassingly earnest if you didn’t absolutely mean it.

Ominis tips his head back while he comes, grinding all the way in so you’ll keep every drop he spills inside you, his baser instincts rearing their ugly heads at the sight of seeing you so filled with him.

You reach behind yourself to blindly seek his hand, sighing happily when he laces his fingers with yours.

“You are unbelievable,” Ominis sighs, still catching his breath. “How do you manage to bring out the most wicked parts of me every time?”

“Just talented, I suppose,” you reply.

He carefully pulls out, transfixed for a moment as he traces his fingertips through the mess he’d made in you while it starts to leak out. You tremble a little, still sensitive from your release.

“Care to help me clean up?” you ask, hoping he’ll fetch a wet cloth for you.

Instead, he drops to his knees.

“Ominis?” you breathe, glancing over your shoulder. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying something new,” he says simply, and before you can react he bites the tender spot where your ass meets your thigh.

You gasp – that stung, actually. But just as quickly, he presses a sooting kiss to that same spot, tracing his fingertips along the back of your leg apologetically.

Just before he puts his mouth back on you, he murmurs, “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #anon i FINALLY got this done for you i hope you like it!!#extremely unbeta'd we die like men

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glimmervoi · 6 months ago

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A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD - VII The End of the Winter Ball

masterlist

e&b masterlist

notes: i tried to push the second part out quickly since it took me so long to get the first part out 🥲 i hope that it's good! enjoy <33

Your mind raced as you stared at the crown. It was strikingly beautiful, encrusted with emeralds and diamonds that glittered in the candlelight. Regardless of how much a stableboy saved, he would never be able to afford it.

Nothing that expensive could belong to anyone other than a member of the royal family. Even if a Duke could afford it, it would be a direct slap in the face to someone who represented the royal lineage.

As your eyes remained fixated on the glittering crown, the realization sank in. This man was a prince. You vividly recalled the informal conversation that you had had with him just a few days before. He had helped you with your duties. You must have seemed so incompetent…

Now, once again in his presence, you found yourself unable to move. Had you even bowed? You felt a jolt go down your spine as you realized that no, you hadn’t. Just another insult to him, no doubt.

You quickly bent your body into a deep bow, your breathing uneven. “I apologize, Sir.” You stammered, avoiding his gaze and fixing your eyes on his chest. The deep green suit he wore, made from the smoothest velvet material and embroidered with brilliant golden thread…its value alone could have rivaled that of his crown.

“Don’t you remember me?” He asked in a smooth voice tinged with amusement. You didn’t find it very funny though, your stomach only filling with unease. As you recalled your first meeting with him, an alarming thought shot through you.

Had he been testing you? Was this a game to him? You had heard the rumors about one of the princes, Taehyung. How he liked to play cruel games with the maids. Was this him? He had never told you his name…

You had mistaken his previous interaction as flirting, but what if it was just a ploy to assess you? Or maybe he had known and was looking for an excuse to humiliate you or hurt you. You had been focused on Namjoon, but what if it was Taehyung who wanted to punish you all along?

You nodded nervously, your fingers trembling. You spoke quickly. “I apologize for failing to recognize you at first.” You said, fear causing your heart to beat so quickly, you were sure it would burst from your chest. “I swear it wasn’t intentional. I’m still new, and I…”

He took your hand, and the familiar tingling feeling that you had once craved was gone, replaced with a painful burning that seemed to pulse through your veins. You winced. You wanted to pull your hand away, your eyes growing wet as the burning in your skin seemed to spread.

“It’s alright, my love.” He murmured, his eyes soft and tender. As his hand moved to touch your cheek, you shook your head and glanced around anxiously. What if the other guests were watching? What if they saw the prince touching you like this?

You couldn't risk the consequences, especially after your conversation with Iseul. You tried to pull away, desperate for some space. The burning sensation was more than uncomfortable, and so was the thought of Iseul and her wooden weapon.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be watching. Heart pounding, you tried to pull away again, desperate to put some distance between you and the handsome prince. “I-I’m sorry, Sir.” You stammered, voice barely above a whisper. “I must return to my duties. Please accept my apologies for any offense I may have caused with my actions, both current and old.”

The prince’s smile broadened, revealing pearly white teeth, and he placed a large warm hand on your shoulder. “Sweetheart…” He cooed softly, as he leaned in. Instinctively, you tried to back away again. Something about him sent your alarm bells ringing, as though he was a hunter and you were his prey.

“If I choose to speak with you, then it becomes your duty to listen.” He said, straightening himself. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. He was right. He was royalty. Whatever he wanted, it was your responsibility to handle…

“I will ask you only once, stop treating me with such coldness and formality.” His voice was stern, but the smile on his lips was kind. The contradiction sent a confused swirl of emotions through you, and you once again felt a shudder run down your spine. You were in dangerous territory now.

“Come wi-” He said, his words cut off mid-sentence by a younger, blond man who casually draped his arm over the dark-haired prince’s broad shoulders.

“Hoseok!” The younger man chimed, his plump lips curling into a playful smile. “The key event will be over soon, so father wants us to leave so we can make our grand entrance….again.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hoseok attempted to shrug off the younger man’s hold. Confusion and realization struck you at the same time. Father…Us….The pieces started falling into place in your mind as you spotted the golden glint atop the younger man’s head. A golden crown encrusted with rubies.

You were now face to face with a second prince.

Your legs wobbled underneath you, and you tried to fight off the deep frown that threatened to show on your lips. As the two princes had a quiet argument, you stood there, too scared to leave without being dismissed. You were slightly relieved though, as you realized that it wasn’t Taehyung that stood before you.

“Not now, Jimin.” Hoseok grumbled, his attention shifting back to you. Jimin huffed before reluctantly turning his own gaze towards you. He didn’t bother to conceal the irritation that crossed his features as he scanned you from head to toe.

“It’s just a maid, it can wait.” Jimin remarked flatly, as he approached you. He examined your face closely, before lifting his fingers to gently brush against your cheek. “Although, she is rather lovely for such a plain girl.”

A peculiar sensation rippled down your spine the moment his fingers made contact with your skin, eliciting a soft gasp from you. It was as if an icy bucket of water had been poured down your back, causing you to arch slightly as if it could ease the sensation.

Before you could make another attempt to excuse yourself, Jimin cleared his throat and retreated a step, a peculiar expression flickering across his features. “We should go, Hoseok.” He said, gesturing towards the large doors of the ballroom. “Everyone else is waiting for us.”

Hoseok cast one final glance in your direction before nodding towards his brother and turning away. You watched as the brothers strode towards the door, then swiftly made your way to the now empty kitchen area.

You burst through the doors and immediately dropped to your knees, the tray clattering to the ground. Your behavior from a few days prior, although not intentional, could get you in a large amount of trouble. You were certain now that it was Hoseok that had summoned you tonight.

His behavior had made you uncomfortable and had only confused you even more about his intentions. You had intended on avoiding the royal family as much as possible, yet tonight you had encountered and spoken to two princes. You knew you needed to shape up before facing severe consequences, possibly even imprisonment in the dungeons below the castle.

You remained on the ground for a few more moments, attempting to regain your composure, before you slowly rose to your feet. As you bent over to pick up your tray, Iseul stormed into the kitchen.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed before you could even utter a greeting. Your brow furrowed in confusion, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach before you realized that she had no doubt witnessed your interaction with Hoseok. Your conversation from earlier in the night flashed through your mind and suddenly it all clicked.

In Iseul’s mind, it was confirmed that you were involved with Hoseok.

“You misunderstand - “ You tried to say, but you faltered as Sanria appeared in the doorway, her expression full of disgust and anger. Iseul shook her head and sneered as you dropped to your knees again.

“Please, it’s not what you think!” You pleaded desperately. But both maids had already made up their minds. Sanria folded her arms tightly across her chest, frowning down at you as Iseul slowly pulled the rod from her apron.

“You foolish girl.” Sanria said lowly, her sharp eyes glinting.

You barely had a moment to brace yourself before Iseul brought the rod up, and then harshly down against your shoulder. You squealed in pain and brought a hand up to your shoulder.

You didn’t have a chance to recover before she swung the rod down again, this time against your side. You yelped, tears spilling down your cheeks as you felt pain bloom through your skin. The sickening sound of wood hitting your body, even through cloth, was loud in the small room.

Over and over, Iseul brought the rod down onto your body as Sanria stood against the wall with a stoic look on her face. Your yelps and cries eventually turned into whimpering and huffs of pain, accompanied by the sound of the rod whooshing through the air and hitting your body, until Iseul finally relented.

The dark haired woman was panting, her face beet red. She straightened, took a few deep breaths, and then nodded curtly to Sanria. Sanria nodded back, before staring down at you again.

You were shaking from the pain, your tears wetting the floor underneath you. “Let this be a lesson,” She said to you, clutching the handle of her own rod. “To not get involved with royalty. You are a maid. Nothing more.”

“If you are caught interacting with that prince again, then you will find the fate that waits for you is far more unpleasant than Iseul’s rod.” She finished, before turning on her heel and leaving.

Iseul allowed you a few moments to lay on the ground, your whimpers the only sound in the room, before forcefully pulling you up. “Your duties are not finished for the night.” She spat, her voice thick with disdain. “Wipe your tears and return to the ballroom. Isabella is waiting for you. Dinner will begin shortly.”

She observed you for a brief moment, frowning when you were unable to compose yourself. Without hesitation, she thrust a clean rag at your face, aggressively wiping away your tears. “Do not anger me further.” She growled. With a hard shove towards the door, she pointed. “Get out there, now.”

You stumbled back into the warm glow of the ballroom, your vision blurred by tears. As you blinked away the haze, you noticed the tables had been rearranged. Through your teary eyes, you spotted a long table positioned at the front of the room, along with nine chairs - no doubt for the royal family.

The smaller tables were arranged in a way that faced the large table, as if the guests were to observe the royal family as they ate. You didn’t care too much about that though, as your body was throbbing with pain. All you longed for now was your bed and the comforting presence of Rae and Alice.

Isabella stood by the door, and she gently grasped your arm. Her eyes were sympathetic. “Come with me.” She murmured softly, guiding you to the back of the room. There, you noticed other maids beginning to line up as the guests took their seats.

“I saw everything.” Isabella whispered quietly as you both stood with your arms behind your back in a formal stance. “From your interaction with Prince Hoseok to the beating from Iseul.”

“I’m not flirting with him.” You said shakily, your gaze fixed to the ground. “I swear, I don't even know what just happened with him…I’m not trying to break the rules.”

“I believe you.” Isabella said, gently nudging your aching shoulder with her own. You looked up at her, your lower lip trembling. She offered a kind smile. “I know that Iseul and Sanria can be quite volatile. Don’t worry, I’m on your side.”

She fell silent as the chatter in the room gradually subsided. Moments later, a burly man strode into the room, his presence commanding attention. A crown, grander than Hoseoks, rested atop his messy black hair. It was adorned with a rainbow of jewels. It looked uncomfortably heavy, and for a moment you wondered if that was why he looked so cranky. He settled into a seat at the middle of the table. Without a word, he absently scratched at his unruly dark beard and waved his hand dismissively at the guests who bowed for him.

There was no mistaking him - he was the king.

His unkempt appearance caught you off guard. For someone of such importance, you would have anticipated a more…polished presentation. Despite not knowing the Queen, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. The thought of being married to a man who couldn't be bothered to groom himself made you want to wrinkle your nose.

Moments later, an elegant woman approached the table. Her long, sleek brown hair cascaded down her back like silk, shimmering in the light. She wore a simple yet stunning emerald gown, embroidered in gold just as Hoseok’s suit had been. Despite how simple her dress was compared to the other guests, it was still no doubt quite expensive.

She too wore a crown, this one almost as heavy as the King’s. As she took her place at the table beside the bored King, it was clear that she was the Queen.

Trailing behind her were two maids, clad in pristine white dresses with matching aprons. Lace veils covered their faces. They stood straight, their posture more firm than stone. They looked as though they were two ghosts, and the sight of them made your blood chill.

The Queen’s maids took their place behind her, their hands clasped in front of them with an eerie stillness. Their total lack of movement was almost unsettling, drawing your attention away from your own pain as you watched them carefully.

The Queen nodded her head to the guests in thanks as they bowed for her, her smile radiating kindness. Yet, beneath the surface, you sensed a certain venom akin to a viper. You didn’t know her well, but you had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to encounter her in the halls.

One by one, seven other men joined the King and Queen at the table, their striking beauty taking your breath away. Adorned in vibrant attire and regal crowns, it was no wonder the women in the room swooned at them.

Among them, you noted Hoseok, who took a seat beside Jimin. His gaze swept over the crowd before settling on you. You tensed and quickly averted your eyes, wary of inciting anymore of Iseul’s wrath.

The ache in your body served as a painful reminder of the punishment that you had endured. When you dared to glance back, Hoseok was speaking with his mother.

As the guests settled into their seats, the Queen rose again. A hush fell over the crowd. With a kind smile, she surveyed the room before addressing the guests.

“My friends, welcome.” She began, her voice smooth and gentle like a lullaby. Despite your unease towards her, you found your shoulders relaxing. “I am grateful to spend yet another winter ball with you all.”

She continued, emphasizing her words with a graceful gesture. “As you know, my son Seokjin will soon be wed.” The crowd murmured their approval, and you wondered which prince was Seokjin as you observed their handsome but indifferent faces.

“He and Lady Woong will make a lovely couple.” The Queen said, raising a golden chalice in a toast. The guests followed suit, but her sons and husband remained impassive. It seemed the rest of the royal family weren’t too excited about the news.

The Queen went on, discussing matters of trade and the status of neighboring cities like Shivermaw and Rosespire. You were surprised when she delved into relations with neighboring kingdoms such as Caidal and Nightfall, a topic you expected to be discussed by the King instead.

Finally, she concluded her speech and the crowd erupted into applause as she returned to her seat. Then, the kitchen maids, dressed in uniforms similar to yours, began to bring out platters of food. Guests began their conversations again, no doubt in excitement at the amazing spread in front of them.

“We will remain here while they work.” Isabella said, nodding towards the bustling kitchen staff. “This is the part where we simply stand here and look pretty. Once dinner is served, you may return to your chambers.”

You nodded at Isabella, silently hoping that the guests would finish eating quickly. Your legs trembled with fatigue, and you wanted nothing more than a warm bath to ease the ache in your body.

Isabella remained quiet for a moment before speaking again, her voice soft. “I arrived here three years ago and started in your position. Same tasks, same head maid. Oh, and of course not knowing who was who in the royal family. Coming from a poor village, we didn’t have the luxury of seeing paintings of them.”

You nodded again in agreement, feeling a sense of comfort from her. She seemed genuinely kind, like someone you could trust - a stark contrast to Iseul and Sanria.

“I try to reach new maids before Iseul and Sanria can.” Isabella continued, a frown on her lips. “I’ve experienced their wrath one too many times myself. I like to offer some advice and basic information before new maids have a chance to get themselves in trouble. I may have been a bit late with you. I apologize.”

“It’s alright.” You said softly, offering her a weak smile. “I appreciate the sentiment. I would definitely welcome any advice though. I’d rather avoid another beating if possible.”

Isabella returned your smile warmly. “Of course.” She said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly. Let’s see…Ah, I know! I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but Sanria isn’t very fond of her staff.”

You stifled a bitter laugh. “Not very fond?” You echoed, remembering the blonde woman who was beaten on your first day. “More like, she hates all of us with every fiber of her being.”

Isabella nodded sympathetically. “Well, there is a way to get on her good side.” She said, her voice lowering. “Mind you, her good side isn't much nicer than her regular side. But, it is better than constantly being threatened with beatings or the dungeons.”

“She won't compliment you or spare you from punishment, but she will assign you easier tasks and let you rise in the ranks. She may even let you sleep in for a few extra minutes or increase your pay slightly if you’re one of her favorites. Maybe, she’ll let you leave the castle for a night out more often than the other girls. All you have to do is spoil her with gifts.”

“As for Iseul…” Isabella sighed softly. “She’s a bit more straightforward. Just treat her like royalty herself, and she will suddenly become the nicest person you know. Of course, she’ll only be like that when it is the two of you, but it's better than her being mean all the time, right?”

You hummed in agreement, though the thought of attempting to become friends with Iseul and Sanria after what had just happened made you wrinkle your nose. “Some other tips for you are common sense, really.” Isabella said. “Always try to be on time and behave yourself. If a prince or distinguished guest wishes to talk to you, you are obligated to unless someone of a higher rank tells you otherwise.”

You winced as you remembered your awkward conversation with Hoseok less than an hour earlier. Your gaze drifted back to the royal family again. A dark haired woman in a golden gown stood in front of the table, her head tilted back as she conversed with the Queen and one of the princes who wore a suit of pure yellow. Though her face remained hidden, the longing glances she received from the men at the lower tables suggested she was quite attractive.

Isabella leaned in toward you again, her voice still quiet. “That woman you’re staring at is Lady Woong.” She murmured. Your brows rose. That was Seokjin’s fiance, according to the Queen. “The Queen is supposedly very fond of her, but Seokjin doesn’t feel the same way.”

“So that must mean….” You began, examining the prince in yellow. His suit was practically glittering and was nearly as bright as the metal atop his head. “The Prince she is speaking with is Seokjin?”

Isabella nodded, and you glanced at Prince Seokjin once more. He sat with his chin propped on his fist, a slight frown tugging at his plump lips. His gaze was fixed downward at the elegant Lady before him, one eyebrow raised in a manner that seemed to silently ask, “Are you finished?”

“Prince Seokjin likes to roam the castle, entertaining himself with whichever Lady he finds most appealing that day.” Isabella remarked, her cheeks tinting pink slightly. “Thankfully, he tends to spare the servants, but it doesn’t mean that we’re entirely safe from stumbling upon him when he is engaged in…less-than-proper activities.

“With women other than Lady Woong?” You asked, surprised. If he had a fiance, then it was very improper for him to be involved with others. Then again, he was royalty. He could get away with breaking as many rules as he wanted.

“Yes, almost every young woman in this room has been in his bed at least once.” Isabella confirmed, her tone tinged with disapproval. “And there are plenty more who are not here tonight.”

She shook her head before continuing. “Anyways, Prince Seokjin is the eldest of the brothers. He’s supposed to inherit the throne when the King either passes away or retires from the throne, but apparently Seokjin has no interest in such matters.”

Isabella gestured towards Namjoon, who was seated on the other side of Jimin. His midnight blue suit seemed to absorb the surrounding light, yet the glimmer of gems that encrusted the fabric sparkled like stars. He seemed impossibly regal, just as he did on the day that you had met him, yet there was also an air of relaxed authority as if he carried the weight of his status with ease.

“That’s Prince Namjoon. Rumor has it, he’ll be the next in line for the throne.” Isabella said, her gaze briefly meeting yours. “The Queen wants Seokjin to take the throne, but everyone else expects Namjoon to take over. He’s considered the most intelligent of the seven brothers, and the King favors him for his natural leadership abilities. Although, I’ve heard whispers from some of the other maids that Namjoon has no love for his father…”

You observed the grumpy figure seated at the center of the table, and it wasn't difficult to understand why Namjoon might not like his father. The King exuded an aura of unpleasantness, both in personality and hygiene. Then again, you admitted to yourself, you knew little about the older man - you could be misjudging him entirely.

“Many believe Namjoon aspires to become King himself. He respects his brothers greatly, so many believe he won't challenge any of them for the throne if they truly want it.” Isabella explained, before turning to Hoseok.

The handsome prince was now engaged in a conversation with Jimin once more. He was gesturing lively, his expressions animated. It was a stark contrast to the demeanor of most of his brothers.

"You've already met Hoseok. He's the third oldest brother, and probably one of the more amiable ones you'll encounter during your time here at the castle. He has a habit of dressing up as a servant and mingling while incognito rather than partaking in his royal duties. The Queen dotes on him, but... It's said that the King has reprimanded her on several occasions for indulging him in his behavior.”

Ah, so he was kinder than some of his other siblings. Perhaps that meant he harbored no ill intentions toward you after your earlier encounter? It was hard to say for certain; you hardly knew him, even with Isabella’s short description. Still, it provided a glimmer of reassurance to soothe your worries.

"Despite his kind demeanor, remember that he is a prince. Treating him like a fellow servant isn't advisable. He has his limits, as Chef Anton learned... the hard way. But Hoseok isn't the only relatively kind-hearted Prince around here," Isabella cautioned, gesturing toward one of the younger-looking Princes.

Clad in a dark red suit, his honey-brown hair impeccably styled like Seokjin’s, he had doe-like eyes that exuded innocence and a kindness that only made him seem younger. Undoubtedly the youngest of the seven, he seemed to be in a different world in his mind.

"Prince Jungkook is the kindest among his brothers. It's rare to see him agitated. While he may not venture into antics like his brother, Hoseok, he's always been respectful and considerate to us servants. Word has it, he's deeply devoted to his mother, fulfilling every duty with care," Isabella remarked, her gaze softening as she observed the younger prince. It was evident she held a fondness for him.

"Of course, I mentioned that 'It takes a lot to get him riled up.' That implies he's not immune to anger, much like his brothers. Fortunately, I've yet to witness Prince Jungkook's wrath, and I intend to keep it that way. You'd be wise to do the same. While his triggers remain unknown to me, it's best to approach him with caution, despite his gentle demeanor," Isabella advised, her tone carrying a note of seriousness.

"That's actually more unsettling than the other warnings I've received," you admitted, your brows furrowing. "It's somewhat easier when you understand what triggers someone's anger. But when you're in the dark about it, it feels like walking on eggshells, especially if that person happens to be a prince."

Isabella nodded in agreement. "It's definitely intimidating to think about. But, in my experience, if you actually get to know him, you'll find that he's not as intimidating as some of the others... like Prince Taehyung, for instance." She gestured towards the imposing figure of a black-haired prince, clad in a pristine white suit.

You couldn't shake the feeling that he would look better in a deep red or even black suit. The white ensemble made him appear too ethereal, almost like a harmless angel. He seemed to practically glow in the light. Yet, you knew better than to be deceived by appearances alone. Despite his angelic facade, he was reputed to be the cruelest of the seven. The tales you'd heard, coupled with the sinister glint behind his black eyes…he was a wolf. A very, very dangerous one.

"Steer clear of Prince Taehyung, no matter what," Isabella cautioned, her voice firm but hushed. "He's highly unpredictable... You never know what might set him off. Many maids learn that the hard way, and it's rather unfortunate. Usually, he avoids areas designated for servants as he holds disdain for us. But every now and then, he ventures into those spaces and releases his anger on whoever happens to be nearby."

You felt the urge to scoff at that. His behavior was senselessly malicious, and he could indulge in it without consequence simply because of his royal status. It infuriated you that someone could act so disdainfully just because they were born into a supposedly "superior" lineage. However, you wisely kept these thoughts to yourself. Your life was far too precious to risk by voicing such opinions. If the wrong person caught wind of what you were saying, then your head could end up on the chopping block.

"If by any chance you do find yourself in the presence of Prince Taehyung, remember to show the utmost respect. Keep your head down, bow deeply, and make every effort to appear submissive. Any hint of defiance may provoke his wrath. The consequences could range from a barrage of chilling threats to outright violence."

"I can practically see the alarm creeping onto your face," Isabella murmured, offering you a sympathetic smile. "Let's change the subject, shall we? You've already encountered Prince Jimin, haven't you?" She inquired, to which you nodded.

She shifted her attention to the blonde Prince, who, while brushing something off the shoulder of his lilac-colored suit, remained fixated on his own reflection in his silver spoon. You observed him carefully. He appeared rather self-absorbed, evident from his behavior and posture.

Abruptly his gaze shifted from the spoon to you, causing you to flinch instinctively. You lowered your head immediately, a rush of shock flooding your mind. Sensing your discomfort, Isabella shuffled an inch closer to you, her arm brushing against yours in a comforting gesture. After a few tense moments of silence, she let out a slow breath.

"He's not looking anymore," Isabella said softly, her voice a reassuring whisper. You hesitantly lifted your gaze, drawing in a deep breath when you saw that his attention was now focused on one of his brothers. Though you didn't know the name of the prince he was conversing with, his mere presence across the room was already intimidating. The thought of facing him up close sent a shiver down your spine.

"Prince Jimin is relatively harmless to the servants," Isabella began to explain again, her arm still offering a comforting presence against yours. "He doesn’t seem to care much for us, but he doesn’t go out of his way to bother us either. His wrath is more focused on actual members of the court."

"He indulges in…inappropriate affairs and revels in extravagant gatherings, much like Prince Seokjin. However, when a Lady displeases him, Prince Seokjin often lets it slide and moves on. Prince Jimin on the other hand, wields his wrath differently. He tarnishes her social standing, stripping her of titles and isolating her from society. She becomes an outcast, devoid of friends, invitations, and sometimes even financial security if matters escalate. Fortunately, as servants, we are spared from such concerns."

"The Prince conversing with Jimin is Prince Yoongi, the second eldest. He's openly expressed his disinterest in the throne and royal responsibilities. Yoongi exudes a chilly demeanor towards everyone but fortunately, he doesn't direct his ire towards the servants... as long as they steer clear of the east wing."

"What's in the east wing?" you asked, curiosity piqued. You studied the darkly dressed Prince, speculating about the secrets he might be concealing. Was he engaged in suspicious activities? No, there had been no rumors of anyone going missing. Perhaps he had a secret wife? No, that seemed implausible. Why would a wealthy prince confine a secret partner to the castle instead of housing her in a separate residence?

"Nobody really knows," Isabella replied with a nonchalant shrug. "We're not allowed in there, so we steer clear. Some speculate that it's just an empty space, and Prince Yoongi prefers solitude. Others entertain darker theories. Regardless, it's best to ignore the rumors and suppress your curiosity. If Prince Yoongi catches you snooping around that wing, I dread thinking about his reaction."

"I hope this helps," Isabella said, her posture straightening as she turned her gaze forward once more. "If you need anything, know that you can always come to me. Well, if you can find me, that is. But enough of that. Let's talk more about Greenriver. Perhaps some reminiscing about home will lift our spirits while the guests finish their dinner."

You mirrored Isabella's posture, standing tall with your eyes fixed on the floor to avoid eye contact with a guest or one of the princes. The remainder of the feast passed slowly as you remained by Isabella's side. In hushed tones, you recounted tales of your upbringing in the small village, sharing stories about your family and neighbors. Your life story unfolded quietly amidst the chatter and noises of the guests enjoying their meal.

The conversation with the compassionate maid offered a brief distraction from the growing ache in your body. As dinner concluded and you finished assisting in clearing the tables, Iseul's dismissal came with a sneer and a sting of sharp words. The shattering of the fragile peace you had found in your conversation with Isabella left you feeling cold.

Limping back to your chambers after bidding Isabella farewell, you found Rae sitting on her bed with Alice by her side. There was no need for words as they noticed your distress, rushing to your side with concern etched on their faces. In their comforting embrace, you allowed the tears to flow softly, the other maids nearby stirring from your quiet sobs as you recounted the ordeal of Iseul's punishment.

As the others drifted back into sleep, you confided in your friends about your unsettling encounter with Hoseok. With gentle hands, they wiped away your tears and assured you that they would find a solution in the coming days. Then, they tucked you into your creaking bed, laying on either side to provide comfort as you drifted into a restless slumber.

#bts #yandere bts #yandere bts fic #bts fic #emeralds and blood #yandere hoseok #yandere jimin #yandere jin #yandere jungkook #yandere namjoon

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lacontroller1991 · 1 year ago

Text

After Hours (Ernest Lawrence x AFAB!Reader x J. Robert Oppenheimer)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Summary: Oppenheimer, finding himself in sexual frustration, runs to Lawrence and reader where Lawrence is more than willing to share reader.

Author's Note: THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL. IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM DOES THIS ACTUALLY REPRESENT THE REAL PEOPLE THAT WERE LAWRENCE AND OPPENHEIMER. IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THIS, PLEASE SCROLL AWAY.

Author's Note 2: So I haven't really posted in a while and this is something new for me, so this is my trial run. I do have stuff planned for whumptober but that'll be next month. - SIDE NOTE I am currently obsessed with Josh Hartnett's interpretation of the character, a forewarning - SIDE SIDE NOTE, THANK YOU TO @arieslost FOR THE KICK ASS NAME

Warnings: SMUT 18+, cuckhold, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), semi Public sex, p in v sex, body shots, pet names, masturbation and language

Word Count: 2.3k

==========

The lab is relatively quiet for a Tuesday night. Not a sound can be heard apart from your pen scratching against the papers and Lawrence lightly tapping his shoe against the floor. When the two of you had met, you were his student, then you became his TA, and now, you’re still his TA but you’re also his. The first couple weeks of your relationship with him, neither of you could keep your hands off each other. Homeworks wouldn’t get graded and more often than not, both of you were extremely tired the next day. Now, it’s much more mellow. The two of you had decided to try and keep it out of the lab, but sometimes that’s easier said than done. Like now.

Setting down the papers, you involuntarily squeeze your legs and let out a frustrated sigh, but Lawrence makes no comment. “Ernie.” If there were any students in the lab, you would strictly refer to him as Dr. Lawrence, but when no one is around? All bets are off the table.

“Yes honey?”

“When can we go home?” Lawrence sets his papers down, adjusting his glasses and looking you over, desperation written all over your face. With a smirk, he kicks his legs up on his desk, readjusting the papers in his lap and clicking his tongue.

“I don’t know hon, I have all these papers to grade and the less you help, the longer it’s going to take.” His comment irks you but you know he’s right. Picking up the papers again, you try to scan them over as quickly as you can, oblivious to the quantum physicist walking into the room, Lawrence on the other hand notices instantly. “Well, look who’s here.” His voice tears your already frail concentration away as you focus on Oppenheimer, jacket tossed on one of the chairs.

“I’m tired of her playing games.” He crashes on the seat next to you and takes out his pipe, lighting it up while you and Lawrence share a brief look in confusion. You don’t really know what Oppie is going on about, but from what you understand from Ernest, it’s about a woman named Jean.

“What did she do this time?”

“She calls me, says she wants me, I go over, she kicks me out. She got me worked up for nothing,” Robert complains as Lawrence raises an eyebrow, taking a brief look at you but your eyes are raking down his body. You and Lawrence have spoken, rather in depth, on your mutual attraction towards the Quantum Theorist. Lawrence’s attraction is more on an intellectual level while yours is more on a sensual level.

“Anything we can do to help?” You offer quietly, repositioning yourself towards Oppenheimer and fixing your blouse. Oppenheimer’s cold blue eyes fixate briefly on your bosom before shaking his head, focusing on his pipe.

“Not unless you have a way to relieve my tension.” Your eyes flick to Ernest silently asking if you can, only to receive a slight nod of his head, his eyes returning to his papers.

“Well, I can,” you comment, setting your own papers down on Lawrence’s desk before pulling the pipe out of Oppie’s hands and sliding onto his lap, your legs resting comfortably on either side of his hips.

“Uh- Lawrence?” Oppenheimer’s eyes flick behind you and try to find Ernest’s only to find them still focused on the papers and not really caring.

“Go ahead and enjoy yourself Robert. She’s really skilled.” It’s all the convincing Oppie needs before his eyes focus on your face, your hips slowly rocking against his.

“I- um- not really sure if you should be- doing this,” he swallows, trying to keep his eyes on your face as your hands trace down his chest.

“Why not? Daddy said it was ok.” You can hear Lawrence snort in amusement as Robert nods, leaning back in the seat, his hands falling to your hips as he begins to take control. Leaning down, you press your lips against his neck, gently sucking on the supple skin right below his ear, causing his eyes to flutter close.

“Dear- ar-,” he lets out a little moan as your hand moves between yours and his body, gently grazing against his hardon.

“Wow, so Oppie can shut up.” Lawrence’s comment stifles a laugh out of you as you lean back, removing your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor of the Rad Lab. Oppenheimer’s eyes instantly fall to your breasts, his hands reading up and gently running the pads of his thumbs against your nipples, causing you to let out a soft moan. Looking up from his paper, Lawrence watches you with a smirk before returning to his work, ignoring the way his cock begins to press against his slacks.

“Lawrence?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure it’s okay if I take her?” Oppenheimer asks as you continue to undress yourself, leaving you in nothing except your stockings, knowing just how much Lawrence likes them on you.

“I’m not in control of her, you have to ask her yourself.” A wave of arousal goes between your legs, because no, Lawrence IS in control of you. For him to suggest otherwise is his way of foreplay.

“Well?” Oppie’s question breaks you out of your thoughts as you drop yourself back on his lap, immediately feeling the length of Oppenheimer’s cock.

“Yes, Dr. Oppenheimer.” You can visibly see the way Oppie’s pupils dilate before he’s picking you up and placing your back on the desk, one of his hands shoving down his suspenders and pants to his thighs, letting his cock spring free.

Looking up from his papers, Lawrence watches the way Oppenheimer begins to guide his member towards your heat.

“You might want to go in at a slight angle, it gets the job done much faster.”

“Who said I want to get it done fast?” Oppenheimer retorts, his eyes focused on Lawrence behind him and not the way you’re touching yourself underneath him. Lawrence though, sees your deft hand rubbing tight circles against your clit.

“If you don’t get it done sooner rather than later, she’s gonna lose interest.” Lawrence’s comment has Oppie’s head turning right back to you causing his dick to twitch at the sight. “Besides,” Lawrence slaps the papers on his desk, making his way over to you and Oppie before sitting down on the edge of his desk, “I would still like to have a turn with her.”

“Are you going to watch?” You ask with a small smile causing him to smile back.

“Yes sweetheart, now why don’t you show Oppie just how nice you feel.” Lawrence smirks, his eyes watching your body intensely as Oppenheimer begins to push the head of his cock in, grunting as he meets resistance. You, on the other hand, let out a moan at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. “How does he feel honey?”

“So good,” you moan out, wiggling your hips and looking up to the physicist above you, “you can move.” Oppie nods his head, his hips starting a steady pace, trying to not look to Lawrence for approval. Leaning over you, Oppenheimer places a tentative kiss on your nipple before taking it between his teeth causing you to let out a sharp gasp of surprise. Picking up his pace, sweat begins to trickle on his forehead as your moans get louder, your nails scratching at his biceps while your hips cant up.

Feeling the beginning of your orgasm, you reach one hand down between your bodies and begin to rub your clit, eyes fluttering close and chasing the feeling, barely registering the fact that Lawrence is commanding Oppie on what to do. “I’m close.” “We know baby girl, just hold on a little longer.” Oppenheimer comments, his hips thrusting wildly as he chases his own orgasm while he looks to Lawrence, “where?”

“She likes it on her tits. But make sure she cums first.” Oppenheimer nods his head, trying to keep his pace as best as possible so that you can cum. “Come on honey, cum for Robert,” Lawrence whispers in your ear while petting your hair in soothing strokes, sending you toppling over the edge.

“Oh fuck,” you let out a long moan as Oppenheimer continues to thrust into you, helping you ride out your high before slipping out of you and jerking off, hot ropes of his cum landing on your stomach and tits. Both you and Oppenheimer breathe heavily for a minute before you sit up, his cum dripping off your body and onto the floor, while Lawrence smiles like a proud parent.

“Good job Oppie,” Lawrence claps Oppie on the shoulder before his hands unbutton his slacks and push them down, taking a seat at his desk chair, “but let me show you how it’s done.” His focus shifts to you, a lustful look in his eyes. “Well kitten?”

You raise a brow as a smirk forms on your face. “Yes Dr. Lawrence?”

“Why don’t you show me and Dr. Oppenheimer what that pretty little mouth of yours can do,” Lawrence comments as you nod your head, walking over to him before sinking to your knees in between his strong thighs. Judging by how hard he is and how much he’s already leaking, you’re thoroughly shocked he didn’t pull you off of Oppenheimer and just have his way with you. Despite Lawrence being a gentleman to all those who he crosses paths with, he sure loves to manhandle you. Wasting no time, you immediately grab ahold of his member and run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside. If Lawrence felt any sort of pleasure he’s not making it known. Normally, he makes all sorts of noises but you suppose it’s probably Oppie being in the room and Lawrence’s need to establish himself as an alpha male, which you will tease him about later.

Looking up through your lashes, you place a tender kiss to the head of his cock and you can barely see his breath hitch. Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue collects the precum that has leaked causing Lawrence’s hand to weave into your hair.

“Think you can take a little more honey?” You nod in response, relaxing your throat as much as possible before his hand starts guiding you up and down on his cock. Reaching up with the hand that’s not wrapped around his member, you gently roll his balls in your hands, aware of the way Oppenheimer watches like there’s nothing else in the world. “You’re doing such a good job honey, just like that,” Lawrence tosses his head back, eyes screwed shut and mouth open in ecstasy as his hips lightly thrust into your mouth. Twisting your hand around his cock, you moan softly causing his hips to briefly falter. Picking up your pace, the sound of you gagging around your lover’s cock echoes in the lab, that and fapping? Looking over briefly, you can make out Oppenheimer’s hand pumping his own cock up and down as if he was watching his own personal porn, in which case, he is.

“Fuck honey, don’t stop.” You can tell that Lawrence is close by the way his hand flexes in your hair. Nodding your head, you take him as deep as you possibly can, your own moans sending vibrations around his cock before it twitches in your mouth. Lawrence lets out a small grunt as he holds your head still around his cock while your hand continues to rub the base of his cock, trying to help him ride out his high as you hear another grunt, this time a little further away. After coming down from his high, Lawrence gently pulls your face off his cock with a lopsided smile. “Now are you going to swallow?” You tilt your head back and swallow his load, loving the way both men have their eyes on you. “Ain’t she a beaut Robert?”

“Yes she is. Wish I had someone so… obedient.” Lawrence chuckles, tucking himself back in before leaning down and kissing you, deciding to ignore the taste of himself on your lips. Standing up to his full height, Lawrence offers you a hand and pulls you up, placing his jacket around your shoulders.

“Well, that was fun,” you comment as Lawrence pulls you into his side, being slightly more possessive now that the sexual tension is dissipating. Oppenheimer immediately picks up on it.

“Right, well, I should get going. Thank you both for that. It was much needed.” You move to respond but Lawrence’s hand grips onto you just a little tighter.

“You’re welcome. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Robert nods his head and dips out of the room, closing the door and leaving you and Lawrence there alone. Turning in his grasp, you reach up and fix his glasses while he kisses the palm of your hand.

“What was with the sudden possessiveness?” He scoffs before picking you up and placing you on his desk, slotting himself between your legs and kneeling on the floor.

“Because, even though we both like him, you belong to me and he needs to know that. Now, let me take care of you, okay?” He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

“Sounds good to me.”

==========

Author's Note 3: Thank you to a few certain people who made me confident enough to post this, I could not have done it without you guys <3

Tagging just in case: @floralcyanide @arieslost @darkmoviesquotespizza @cranesbathtowel @madlittlecriminal

#oppenheimer #Oppenheimer movie #christopher nolan #j Robert Oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #Ernest lawrence #Ernest Lawrence x reader #josh hartnett #Cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #lacontroller1991 #maybe this will flop #I hope it doesn't #Oppenheimer x reader

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chemicalpink · 3 years ago

Text

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

#thebtswritersclub #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #btscreatorscorner #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #bts imagine

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

counter point, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You enrage your perfect boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, by being overtly sexual and inappropriately licking your kitchen counter. Why? Because you can and he's going to get horny regardless. He's going to chase after you with a spoon, so you better run!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; actually low-key crack and fluff; shower smut (fem reader, handjob, thigh riding, nipple play, marking / scratching, fingering, multiple orgasms, one pussy slap); too much wasted water, RIP; non-idol!BTS; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts; please help Jungkook, he's just trying to eat shaved ice, not pop a boner (he does anyway)

yes, the title is a pun it's the best laid plans couple and they're crackheads no need to read the first one, but it's there if you want more

“Don’t.”

You grinned at your boyfriend (Cheshire-cat-style, but make it sexy).

“Listen to me, do not do it.”

You extended you tongue (lizard-style, still sexy).

Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend currently making shaved ice, narrowed his dark brown eyes at you and barked your name sharply (angry-mother-scolding-their-child-style, but make it the hottest man on the fucking planet who you were down to get railed by every second of every day). His ash-blond hair flared out around his strong features, adding to his (horny) fury.

He could pretend to be mad, but you knew better.

You licked the kitchen counter.

“Fucking damnnit!”

You cackled as you licked the fallen syrup and ice combination that was on the kitchen counter, slurping up the fallen solider (a valiant fight, but Jungkook had missed the bowl by accident and he deserved an honorable death).

“I told you I was getting a towel!” Jungkook hissed furiously, shaking the white towel with the cute pink bunny character on it. “Don’t be a nasty heathen!”

“What’s nasty about our kitchen counters?” you countered (ey, yeah, see what happened there). “We clean them all the time.”

You leaned down again and licked the counter, pressing your tongue flat against the granite and making Jungkook growl, to which your responded with wiggling your eyebrows. He shook the towel at you again, but didn’t advance.

“Back, you fiend.”

You straightened and grinned, sauntering over to him and the towel he was using like a rosary and you were the demon he was trying to exorcise (he wasn’t pure enough to be a priest, but then again, that might be your fault).

“But I need the towel to clean up the mess,” you chirped, grinning cheerfully as you closed your hand around the cloth, holding it for a little too long, letting your eyes linger on his tense face, taking in his chiseled jaw, shapely lips, and flashing dark brown eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You smiled.

Ran your tongue over your upper lip.

“Like what?”

Jungkook looked like he wanted to murder you and fuck you.

(Not at the same time; that would be some serial killer shit.)

“Stop fucking teasing me when you’re not gonna do anything,” he grumbled, pouting slightly as you snatched the towel from him and wiped the counter that you had already licked clean.

“Who, me?” you replied innocently, grabbing the sponge to clean off the granite before wiping the spot once more. “I would never, ever tease you, Jungkook.”

He narrowed his eyes at you until they were lines and jammed his spoon into his shaved ice. “You never wanna fuck right after I work out.”

“Speaking of working out.” You pointed to his large bowl of shaved ice covered in syrup. “Should you have sweets right after working out?”

He clicked his tongue. “I drank my protein shake and I’m hot. Leave me alone.” He shoved a large spoonful into his mouth, still glaring.

(Oh, you’re hot, all right.)

“What a coincidence.”

Jungkook’s eyes shifted in suspicion as you spun around him. “Do I wanna know what’s a coincidence…?”

“I’m also hot.”

And you grabbed the bottom of your oversized sweatshirt (it was his) and pulled it up and over your head, leaving you in your underwear. You threw it at Jungkook’s crotch before prancing out of the kitchen.

“Alright, first of all–”

“Lachimolala,” you sang nonsensically, heading off to the bedroom. “I thought you wanted to be alone?”

Jungkook stomped after you, clutching his bowl and still shoving shaved ice in his mouth as he very loudly put in his two cents and pointedly ignored your comments (a skill he developed while dating you, mysterious why that would be).

“I know you’re hot, you’re insanely hot and that’s not fair, and, second, you can’t just take off your clothes and expect me not to follow you, and, three, let me fuck you, damnnit!”

You stuck your head out of the bedroom door and your tongue out of your mouth. “No. You stinky.”

Jungkook looked livid, still holding his spoon and bowl. “Don’t make me put this spoon down, woman.”

“Oh nooooooo, Jungkookie has a spoon, oh nooo!”

“Gimmie those titties! Get your ass over here right now!”

You ran to the bathroom and turned the water on, throwing off your underwear in record time, only for Jungkook to show up and get smacked in the face with your bra and panties (awesome, your aim was improving, all those hours playing FPS games was a sound investment).

Jungkook snarled and shook his head, blond hair flying everywhere, holding his bowl of shaved ice protectively as your underwear scattered around him. He looked ready to scold you, only to freeze and see you standing at the open glass shower door, fully naked.

Grinning.

(Checkmate, he totally wanted to bone you. His shorts were doing nothing to hide his massive tent.)

“See ya.”

And you slunk into the shower and hot water, snapping the door closed behind you, Jungkook fuming and crossing the space in two steps (damn, can you say legs, holy shit) and yanked open the shower door.

“You fucking brat–”

You smirked, water running down your body, tipping your head back to soak your hair, reaching up to slick it back with your tits up. His dark brown eyes ballooned to the size of Dragon Balls (those are pretty big balls, no cap). His shaved ice was rapidly melting from the steam.

A full ten seconds past.

(Kinda cold, bro, please close the door.)

You maintained your smirk, rolling your shoulders to cascade water down your body, down your breasts, dripping off your nipples, curling around the curve of your waist, streaming in rivets across the expanse of your thighs and ass, doing a little half-spin. Jungkook choked a little, eyes completely fixated to your body. You (completely unnecessarily, of course) placed a hand in between your breasts, splaying out your fingers, gliding it down your stomach, making a detour for your hip, sinking your nails into it (his bowl was tipping very dangerously now and the ice was half-gone), curving back to the inside of your thigh and squeezing your thighs around your hand.

(Okay, for real, you can close the door now, Jungkook.)

“Your shaved ice is melting.”

Jungkook started, picking up his jaw off the floor, and whipped his head to his bowl of now sweet ice water. He closed the shower door (finally!) and you breathed out a sigh of relief, finally wiggling under the showerhead to wash away the goosebumps and your frozen tits (you suffered for a good cause, but still), hearing your boyfriend straight-up slurp the rest of his shaved ice (it was practically a drink by now anyway). You pumped some shampoo in your hand and casually started working it into your hair before half-screaming as the door opened again and a very naked, very horny Jungkook invaded your personal space and pinned you against the shower wall.

(You weren’t expecting his speedrun of stripping, that must have been a fucking record!)

You blinked rapidly, trying to swipe the water out of your eyes.

“Jung–”

You didn’t expect to get anything out but you said one syllable before his lips crashed onto yours, spraying water everywhere as he half-entered the raining showerhead (still a bit stinky, tsk tsk), pressing his body against yours, jabbing you with his rock-hard dick (rude). You yelped in his mouth, but he didn’t seem to care (probably thought you deserved it, rude), taking your tongue and sucking on it, making you moan, driving his thigh in between yours and pushing it up, water suddenly gushing onto your heat and then hard muscle, you gasping at the contact, tipping your head back with a soft whimper.

Opening your eyes to a slight sting and Jungkook’s half-wet hair, dark silvery-blond curls around his smirking face, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Not so high and mighty now, hm?”

(Fuck, he’s so fucking hot.)

Your eye began to sting very badly.

(Shit.)

“There’s shampoo in my eye,” you choked out.

“Oh shi–”

There was a brief intermission of water torture as Jungkook shoved your head under the showerhead and you did the awkward dance of one eye half-open, half-closed, rinsing out the soap residue while holding your breath and trying not to drown (beauty, grace, and blindness, the trifecta, right?). You yanked your head out with a gleeful sucking in of air, pushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked worriedly.

“Why is no-tears shampoo only for babies?” you complained, wiping your eyes. “Don’t they know horny adults get accosted in the middle of showering sometimes and need that shit? They need to put a warning or I’ll sue.”

He laughed, rich, full, and wonderfully sexy. “I don’t think you’d – ah!”

The second Jungkook let his guard down, you grabbed his dick (sucker), and started pumping him with a flick of your wrist, grinning wildly. He gasped and tried to back up, but you pinned his thigh in between yours and rubbed your slick pussy on his muscle, causing him to sway slightly and plant his hands on the wall beside your head, gasping your name.

“O-oh, fuck…”

You used your other hand to grab his chin and pull him closer, kissing him hungrily, a slightly awkward angle but it didn’t matter because you had him in the palm of your hand now (literally), jacking him off with one and the other stroking his jaw, shuddering at his tongue flitting in your mouth, snaking your own out to meet his, fuck, such soft lips, and he still tasted a little sweet from his icy snack lingering on his tongue. Your hand slid back and cupped his head, fingers in his wet ash-blond hair, rolling your hips on his leg and pumping his swelling length in the other, getting him extra hard again, both of you moaning at the lovely pop of the head being squeezed by your thumb and index, before going right back to furiously kissing as you increased the speed and pressure.

Jungkook always complained about how you never worked out with him, but you always rebutted that said workouts never started because you two were too busy eating face.

(Also, why work out when you can fuck? More fun, more pleasure, less hating yourself as you complete the thirtieth sit-up. Clearly, your boyfriend failed to see the logic.)

“Jungkook, ah…”

One of his strong hands around your waist, arching your back, kissing down your neck, matching your pace with his hips, moaning into your skin, raising his leg even higher as he leaned down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Now the angle was really awkward, but you refused to give up, readjusting slightly, faster, harder, his mouth all over you, sucking hard, whimpering your name, your arm burning (and he wondered why you had biceps, sheesh), and you clamped his thigh in between yours, the real pleasure being how Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back, your name tumbling from his lips, so sexy with his dripping blond locks stuck to his cheeks, tendons standing out on his neck with the strain, thrusting into your hand to increase the pleasure and your arm was going to give out any second now but you just couldn’t, not yet.

“So fucking sexy,” you panted, your free hand tracing his jaw, shoving your thumb into his open lips, sinking your nails into his cheek because he was yours, all yours, and he didn’t care if you marked him up, his eyes rolling back, loving your roughness, wanting it. “Cum for me, come on, Jungkook,” you growled, even faster, even harder, thumb pressed into his lolling tongue and he whined, deep and feral, a mixed gargle of your name and pure ecstasy, cock jerking in your hand, spilling out over your thigh and the shower wall, hot sticky strings before being washed away, you dragging his face to yours, removing your thumb to kiss him again, sighing in relief now that you could slow, squeezing his twitching cock, feeling it drip down your fingers and smearing it all over his now-sensitive skin.

“So good, fuck, you’re so good…”

His hands all over your back, running his nails up and down, ravenous, messy kisses. Your hand stilled, arm burning, but somehow it didn’t matter, adrenaline and lust too much, and you wanted to hold him too, snaking your arms around his waist and digging your nails into his broad back, both of you moaning in unison as your ran lines of pleasure across each other’s backs, hips to hips, wet bodies rolling into each other, your drenched pussy on his hard thigh and his spent cock against your soft thigh.

“My arm almost died,” you gasped, his nails raking down to your hips, sinking into your ass.

“Heh, sorry,” Jungkook snickered (you suspected he wasn’t very sorry). “That’s what you get for teasing me.” (And you were right, hmph.) “This is why you should work out.” (This guy…)

You raised an eyebrow. “So I can make you cum in literal seconds? Your funeral.”

He paused, shifting his eyes. He seemed to be mentally struggling with the idea. “You look so fucking hot in workout clothes though,” he pouted, leaning down to press his chin against your breasts.

Uh oh, Jungkook was giving you puppy eyes now.

“I can wear workout clothes without actually working out,” you frowned. “And you never let me work out anyway because you’re too busy ogling me, and then you jump me mid-squat.”

He groaned, kneading your ass in his hands. “Your ass just looks so fucking good in leggings though… and the way your tits bounce, fuck…”

(Hello, Jungkook? You could, maybe, just look at the naked wet body in front of you right now instead of fantasizing about working out. What is your malfunction?)

You yelped as he buried his face into your tits, tongue snaking out and drawing thick, saliva-covered stripes over your breasts that were quickly washed away, whimpers in your throat once you saw the hungry look in his eyes, his pink tongue now circling your nipple, lowering his leg from between yours, your hands flying up to hold his head onto your chest.

“Ah, Jungkook, please…”

His lips closed in and his fingers grazed your slick slit, pressing circles of pleasure into you, leaning your head against the shower wall, back arched to give more to that perfect mouth, moaning his name, his fingertips finding your clit and rubbing it slowly, working you up, sucking your nipple and flicking it with his tongue, waves of pleasure and hot water enveloping you, pushing his wet hair back to look into those dark chocolate orbs, clouded by lust and his desire to make you feel good, already knowing that when you rocked your hips you wanted more, already knowing that when your noises became shallower, more needy, that you needed it harder, closing your eyes, faster, hot and warm from Jungkook and water.

“Yes, fuck, yes, so close, so good, Jungkook, ah, Jungkook!”

You felt the flinch of overwhelming ecstasy, immediately trying to close your legs but he blocked you, planting his thigh between yours to prevent them, your moan turning into a feverish whimper, clutching his shoulders.

“J-Jungkook, w-wait, oh, f-fuck…”

He wasn’t waiting, still stimulating your now throbbing clit, lifting his head to press his lips to yours, whispering hotly, you’re so sexy, so beautiful, I love you to so much, fuck, your brain barely computing language, w-what, oh fuck, yes, don’t stop, Jungkook, I love you, fuck, so good, his soft smile on your open lips as your moaned once more, ramming your hips into his hand, eyes rolling back, pleasure shooting up from your core, and Jungkook’s fingers plunged into your wetness, moaning with you, stuffing you with three because you were so, so wet.

“Fuck my hand, come on, wanna feel you…”

You heard hand (seriously? alright, your funeral, Jungkook), and enclosed your fingers around his now hard-again cock.

“Wait, w-what – ah, fuuuuuuuck…”

Your misinterpretation seemed to be a welcome development, your hips moving on their own, pussy clenching around his fingers, your hand a vice around his hard, swollen length, his hips thrusting into your closed fist, and now both of you just chasing pleasure, wet, loud, and hot, the water adding to the noise, skin on skin, your pussy making embarrassing sucking, squishing sounds paired with the rapid slap of your vicious pumping of his cock, feeling so good it was hard to speak, but it didn’t matter because your lips found his lips, and you could tell by his trembling inhale and soft whimpers that he loved you, and he could tell from your breathless gasps and desperate whines that you loved him, and all that made it more intense, better, sexier, perfect.

Your name in that silvery, needy tone, followed by, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

His name, followed by, “Shit, me too, fuck!”

(Maybe not your best work, oh well.)

You slapped your hips into his hand, burying his fingers all the way to his knuckles, and groaned, scorching ecstasy overtaking your veins, sparking up your spine and into your head, squeezing your thighs together powerfully, clamping his wrist in your softness. His cock jerked, his gasp in your face as he spilled again, all over your hip and thigh, jamming the throbbing head into your skin and moaning as his orgasm continued spurting out, pulsing, his moan turning into helpless cries as you rubbed the tip on your skin, smearing his cum onto you, his scent so strong you could still smell it despite the water washing it away, loving the way his hard, muscular body felt against you, shivering and vibrating with pleasure, unable to help himself, practically humping your leg to prolong the sensitivity.

Heavy, shuddering breaths.

Water tumbling down, somehow far too hot even though it was getting lukewarm.

(Rest in peace the water bill.)

“Uh… my hand…”

You tensed around it. “I like it here.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, frowning. “I’m getting a hand cramp.”

You bit your lip and clenched your core muscles, making him gasp.

“Fuck, I love how tight your pussy can get. Feels like you’re going to break my fingers.”

You relaxed, laughing. “That’d be a fun trip to the emergency room.”

He snickered and leaned in, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

You relaxed your thighs and he pulled his fingers out. “I love you too, Jungkook.”

You squeezed the head of his dick mid-kiss and he slapped your pussy in response, making you gasp.

“Brat.”

(Hello, you two, you’re wasting water… aw, shit, here we go again.)

2021.09.01 - birthday drabble

in which jjk attempts to direct porn and you proceed to clown him until he shuts you up by fucking your brains out well dressed

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

590 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

Text

I Want To Hear You Say It

Ch. 8: Did You Find What You Were Looking For?

Word Count: 6.8K

A/N: A fun filler chapter!! (I wanted to split the chapter, but it didn’t feel right so yall get a long one:))

Prev.

It’s quiet between the two men. It isn’t out of the ordinary, while they might be close- or as close as two villains can be- their conservations are usually short and limited to only certain subjects, neither of which any of the men want to approach. Shuichi doesn’t know when it started, he just knows that it has. Him and the other members have noticed the sudden change that Shigaraki has taken on lately. The secrecy- more so than usual- along with the sneaking out late at night and sneaking back in just before dawn. No one knows where he’s going and even if one did manage to follow him, they lost him just as easily, almost as if Shigaraki was making it all that much harder to track him and his location.

There’s different bets going around. Twice believes that he’s gone to underground concerts which host both villains and civilians alike- he’s sure Jin had mentioned that he went to a few to acquire some cheap alcohol. Toga believes that he’s gone out to try to find out where Kurogiri exactly is, and as far-fetched as that is, it’s not impossible. Dabi likes to believe that he’s gone to some internet café since the “internet sucks” here at the current base. He isn’t wrong, the little internet that they do get is from a coffee place opposite of where they rest for now. Mr. Compress and Magne don’t really want to get into it, commenting that as long as he isn’t leading anyone back, then it’s all okay. Shuichi on the other hand doesn’t know what to think. There’s something off about Shigaraki now. He isn’t sure what, but there just is. He’s constantly checking his phone, looking at the screen for far too long, and when someone gets close, he shuts his phone off.

Shuichi glances to where Shigaraki leans against the wall, his legs over the edge of the bed, and hands holding onto the controller, pinkies extended outward. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Shuichi states, his hands gripping on the controller, his claw pressing carefully on the joystick. Tomura hums in response, his eyes glued to the screen before him, his character successfully stealing a car. Shuichi nervously clears his throat, a chill running through his body as he follows Shigaraki’s avatar through the city. “You’ve been out a lot these past nights.” In the corner of his eye, he sees the slightest still of him, his thumb hovering over a button before he presses on it. “We’re all-” he struggles to find a proper word for the feelings of unrest that have been growing inside the team- “wondering about where you’ve been.”

“Does it matter?” Tomura replies, his eyes now narrowed and the top of his lip curling upward. Shuichi’s gaze is fixated on him, and Tomura lets out a sigh. “I’ve just been meeting with someone. It’s nothing to worry about.”

It isn’t enough. He’s sure that he can press just a little more. Just enough for him to slip about something other than meeting someone for a meeting. His canine nips at the soft pink flesh inside of his mouth. “You aren’t usually so distant about these types of things,” Shuichi comments, his attention to the game half-hearted.

“What type of things?” There’s an edge to Shigaraki’s words and if Shuichi weren’t so curious, maybe he would have backed off.

“You know-” he shrugs his shoulders and his character moves away from the other’s avatar- “going out and meeting with potential recruits. You’d at least send one of us to do it. Like with Twice. Twice is good with people. He always makes sure he isn't being followed. Shouldn’t it be- I don’t know, Mister, or Dabi-” his avatar rummages through his inventory before pulling out a knife- “even me?”

He can be good for something other than pure missions where it involves needing someone to drive. When he spares a glance at his leader, he sees him deep in thought, his fingers resting over the buttons, and his character still. “It isn’t like that,” Shigaraki states with an unusual distaste in his words. “This is a special case. They’re a special case,” he corrects, “I don’t want them to be freaked out by outsiders.” For a moment, he and Shigaraki lock eyes in the reflection of the television. “They were freaked enough when it was just me.”

“No offense, but you aren’t exactly the most comforting person in the League. That would go to Magne or even Mister.” Shuichi tries to tease, hoping that the lighter mood would offer just another snippet of information.

“It took them a long time to trust me. Or at least to feel safe around me. I’m not risking it by introducing new characters to the mix.” Whatever or whoever it is that Shigaraki is hiding, he does a good job at it.

“Is it even safe?” Shuichi presses, his character just running around a building, not doing anything in particular. He doesn’t know what answer to expect. It must be safe if Shigaraki continues to visit him, but what if it isn’t. What if he’s being led to a false sense of security?

“Is what safe?” Shigaraki asks with an annoyed tone. It’s apparent that he doesn't want to have this talk, but Shuichi does. He needs to know what's going on. He’s here for Stain and as long the League will uphold that bit of ideology, then he’ll stay. It’s not as if he has anywhere else to go.

“Meeting them,” Shuichi says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. He’s met with silence. “If you can’t trust them to meet us, then what makes you think they won’t sell you out?” It might be cruel, he isn’t entirely sure, but it’s the truth. If they were scared to meet Shigaraki, it’s only fear that is keeping them compliant and eventually that will run out.

“They won’t,” he responds with a serious tone. “I know them. I know who they are and where they are. They won’t do something like that.” His character stops moving and he can hear the controller creak under the hands of Shigaraki. “You don’t know them. I do. They won’t snitch.

Shuichi turns to him, his controller on his lap as he leans close to Shigaraki. He has to understand where he’s coming from. If the roles were reversed, he’d be acting the same. He’d be just as accusatory, if not more. “But-”

“I have to go.” Shigaraki places the controller down on the bed and moves away, the floorboards quietly creaking under him as he stands. “Log off for me, will ya? I need to go.��

The door closes and once again, Shuichi is left alone. Behind him, the screen shifts in color, and when he turns, Shigaraki’s character has been killed. Carefully, a scaled hand picks up the discarded controller only to place it down gently beside him. The menu pops up and the game is saved, the screen returning to normal after a second, the character now revived, and suddenly standing next to Shuichi’s character.

He isn’t sure what’s going on, but at least he knows that whoever it is that Shigaraki is visiting, is someone that he cares for. The screen goes black and Shuichi is left to stare at his reflection. The room is quiet and only lit by a flickering bulb that remains lit. There’s a knock on his door, and when he turns to face it, there are shadows between the space of the door and the floor. He scratches at his snout, his claws picking at dried skin and ripping it away. “Come in,” he says, leaning against the wall and watching as the remainder of the League walks into his room, letting the door close with a soft click of the lock coming into place.

Magne is the first to speak. “So? Did you find out anything useful? Are we getting a new recruit?”

“Or is he going to some concert?” Twice says, interrupting Magne with a hand on her shoulder. “Who’s right? Who wins the bet?”

With a simple roll of the eyes, Magne continues onwards. “Ignore the bet, what’s he doing?” She runs a hand through his hair and plays with the ends as they all stare at Shuichi with a waiting explanation.

He shrugs. It’s the honest answer that he can give. “I don’t know. I don’t think- Where he’s going to, it isn’t to meet with recruits. He seems almost-” he hesitates to find the correct word- “protective about them.”

“Who’s “them”?” Dabi asks, his gaze focused on the television that still buzzes with electricity.

Once again, he shrugs. “I don’t know. I tried as best as I could, but when I pushed, he shut down. And then he just said he had to go and left.” Shuichi glances at the television, frowning when it still remains just him in the reflection. “All I know is that they’re easily skittish, he doesn’t want us to meet them, and he’s defensive when it comes to him.”

The bed dips as Toga sits on it, her legs crossed and a pillow pulled to her lap. “Well, lucky for us, I managed to actually follow where he’s been going,” she says with a smug attitude, her grin wide and kittenish. All eyes are on her and she sits straight, her hands playing with the edge of the pillow case, wrapping a thread around her finger. “I had to take somebody’s blood but whatever. I doubt he suspected something because I saw him enter some apartment.”

“An apartment?” Mr. Compress asks, his head leaning to a side. “With tenants? Or was it abandoned?”

“Tenants. I saw people go in and out. You know, like civilians. So I guess, whoever he is meeting, it means we all lost the bet.” The attention is still on her, confusion written on everyone’s face and she sighs. “I’m sure of it. The woman I was disguised as was even greeted by someone who lives there.”

“When was this?” Dabi asks, his eyes on Toga. “Time wise,” he clarifies.

“Um, maybe around, two in the morning?” Toga shrugs and moves further onto the bed. “I didn’t check the time, but it was late.” her legs are out straight and Magne sits beside her.

Magne starts talking, her fingers tapping against her knees. “It’s a bit later than when he usually goes out but-”

“And you’re sure it was him?” Mr. Compress asks, taking a step closer to her, his eyes narrowed in confusion as he takes in the new information when Toga nods. “Do you remember where it was?” Once again, Toga nods, pulling out a piece of folded paper and handing it towards the man. The paper crinkles as he opens it and the two standing behind him, inch closer to read what it says. “Huh,” he breathes out. “Should we pay a visit?”

“A visit?” Shuichi hisses. “We don’t even know who they are. All we know is that they live-”

“You said it yourself,” Dabi interjects, his eyes grabbing at the paper and tucking into his pocket. “Whoever it is, is skittish. They’re scared. Which means that if that hand-covered bitch could force them into submission, then we can too.” Shuichi glowers at the man and Dabi sighs. “We aren’t gonna kill them or anything, we just want to see who it is. Aren’t you curious about who it is that lives there?” Shuichi’s silence is enough of an answer. Dabi grins, wide and devious, as if this is all some sort of game to him. “Exactly. We’ll visit when we know that Shigaraki can’t. Maybe an hour or two before his usual time and we’ll just scope out this new person.”

“When are we going? Tonight? Tomorrow?” Twice asks, glancing around as he moves past Mr. Compress to sit on the bed with the other three. “The sooner the better, right?” His shoulders slump and hands clench and he stares at the other slowly. “Or should we plan this to make sure there is no room for mistake,” his voice has shifted to something a bit deeper, a tad more serious than his excitement just moments ago. “If Shigaraki catches us,” his tone returns to a more enthusiastic nature, “he’d definitely be pissed.” There’s a pause and everyone glances at each other, before finally returning to Twice. “That’s totally a yes.”

It won't be the first or last time that you complain to yourself on why you chose to have a floor that wasn’t the first. It isn’t a long climb, but it's excruciating when you carry bags of groceries that are digging into the joints of your fingers. You’re stubborn and too tired to make more than one trip, and even if you weren’t, you usually carry tote bags to place the items in, but you must’ve forgotten it in your apartment before you left. All you really want to do is just sit down, but you can’t. At least, not until you’re inside.

You struggle between the bags to reach your keys, the bags knocking against each other as your hands try to inch for your keys that hang around your neck. The key is inserted shakily, twisting the key while your hand also twists farther than usual as you pull the key out. Your brows pinched as you quickly enter your apartment, letting the bags fall onto the floor, as you close the door with your hip.

You let out a heavy sigh, flexing your hands as you try to ease the pain that has gathered. When you kick your shoes off, you kick them to the side, sparing a glance to the couch, as you lower yourself to pick up the bags. As you do so, you hesitate. There’s something wrong. Something feels wrong to you- enough to make you uncomfortable and all too aware of how you can feel someone watching you. It starts off easy enough- how your scalp itches, how the clothes on your body doesn’t feel right and pricks too much against your skin, and the forced silence that is in your apartment. You quickly rise and turn, your hand going to grab at the doorknob, only to have the pointed end of a knife directed towards you.

Yellow eyes stare at you, a thin smile decorating a young girl’s face and all you can do is raise your hands in front of you, your eyes catching against a sea of colors as six people stand in front of your couch. How you missed them, you have no idea, but you’re sure that they only wanted to reveal themselves to you know.

“You should lock the door,” the girl says sweetly, twisting the knife. A gleam catches along the metal and you nod, slowly reaching behind you to put the lock into place, your breath caught in your throat. Your hand is clasped over the doorknob, the tips of your fingers teasing against the lock. The young girl’s eyes flitter to where you tease at the lock, and she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t do that. Come on, come sit.”

Behind her the others watch you, a slight shift in their weight as they analyze what you’re about to do. You wouldn’t be able to run even if you wanted to- you’d have to unlock the door, and turn around, while leaving your back exposed to people who are clearly criminals. You nod slowly, and the girl steps back allowing you to walk further in your apartment, all eyes on you as you sit down on the ouch, your knees pinched together as your legs shake. Your groceries are sitting precariously by the door, and you worry that the milk is going to leave the bag wet and sticking to the jug.

Your face burns, legs shaking and teeth clasped down on the inside of your cheeks as six menacing people stand in front of you. You can’t handle the silence, the stares and the uncertainty of whatever is going to happen. In your back pocket, your phone sticks out, a vibration against your backside the curiosity for that is another fatality for you.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is quiet, your eyes on the tip of black boots that have scuff marks over them and splatter of mud against them.

“Do you mind if we sit?” You look back up, a man in a white mask with organic black lines stares down at you- at least that’s what you assume he’s doing.

The collar of your shirt feels too tight, restricting every breath, every word, every small swallow of saliva in an attempt to do something that isn’t clawing against your forearms. You nod. “Yeah- I uh, yeah,” you stutter. “I don’t mind.”

“Relax, we aren’t here to hurt you.” A heavy hand is held out to you and you stare at it with distrust, the owner of the hand removing their white rimmed, triangular sunglasses. “You can call me Magne.”

“She’s like our sister!” The younger girl says cheerfully, wrapping her arm around Magne’s, leaning her head against the woman’s bicep. Her small falls into something flat, the enthusiasm in her voice gone. “So you shouldn’t disrespect her in any way.”

You nod quickly, leaning over and taking Magne’s hand in yours. “Hi, it’s um, it’s nice to meet you, Magne,” you say quickly, giving her a nervous smile.

“I’m Twice!” A man in a black suit stretches his hand outwards to you, the suit clinging to his skin and showing off his muscles, and you fear that he’s done much worse than a simple break-in like this. You nod slowly, reaching towards the warm hand, your arm given a curt handshake. “That’s Toga-” he points to the young girl who smiles at you, her arms now removed from Magne’s. You’re about to give another greeting when another speaks up. “That’s Mr. Compress-” he points to a man in a yellow coat who nods, and tips his hat towards you. “Spinner-” a green-scaled man narrows his eyes at you and you look away, staring at the last one to be introduced. “And that’s Dabi!” The man in black hair and purple colored scars- or maybe burns- nods at you, his face devoid of emotion.

You smile but when it’s unreturned, you give a weak cough and look away from him and try to find comforting eyes that you can stare at, but none of them are comforting to you. You settle back at Dabi, giving him a small smile. Twice has yet to let go of your hand and you don’t want to risk anything by pulling away too soon. “I’m- my name is-”

“We know what your name is,” Dabi says with an attitude, the first sign of emotion that you’ve gotten from one of the people who have broken into your home. That thought leaves you feeling unsettled. It’s usually Tomura who does that and yet, he is nowhere to be found.

“Okay,” you say with a crack in your voice, nodding and looking back at your hand that is still extended outwards.

“Don’t be mean, Dabi,” Toga says with a pout, smacking the side of his arm as she huffs and crosses her arms. “Now they won’t trust us.”

There’s a tap against the back of your hand when you stare back at Twice, his shoulders are squared. “And you already know our Leader Shigaraki, right?” His voice has changed tone into something more serious and with the accusation, your nervous smile fades away, and when you stare back, his hand is now squeezing down on yours.

The whites of his mask make it difficult to look him in the eye. It makes it difficult to feel safe. Magne had told you that they wouldn’t hurt you but even if she is the resident big sister, it seems as if Twice doesn’t follow her loosely based rule. His hand is squeezing yours, and you wince, and your lungs that were deprived of air are suddenly filled once again when you take in a sharp inhale.

“They won’t talk if you break their hand, twice.” Your head is bent and you are unable to see who it is that is talking to him. The steps are heavy against the floors and you’re trying to pull your hand away, when a rough one covers yours. You look up to meet the eyes of Spinner, yours are filled with tears and his with something that you can’t quite make out. Your hand is let go, and you scramble to sit further against the couch, your legs bent to your chest as they all watch you. Spinner’s attention is redirected at Twice. “I told you the information I had on them, including how weirdly protective Shigaraki is with them.

You cradle your hand and then Dabi speaks. “You mind calling him? We all kind of want to see the look on his face when he comes in and sees that we found out about his little secret.” It’s then that emotion finally spills out, his lips stretching into a smug grin as he slouches over your couch, his leg bent over the other as he stares at you, nodding for you to pull out your phone.

You’re glad that you never installed a password for your phone, you’re sure that with your current anxiety skyrocketing, you’d be unable to put in the correct pin. Dabi steps towards you and watches over your shoulder as you struggle to go to your contact list, and he’s right there at the very top under the “A”. You tap the phone button and place him on speaker, the ringing going off immediately.

“Alleyway?” Dabi asks, leaning close to you, and you stiffen, the scent of alcohol and smoke a bit too strong for you. “Who the fuck is- Why is he put under “alleyway”?” There’s a hint of amusement laced into his words, but you aren’t in the right headspace to make any quippy comment.

“It’s um-” you clear your throat and give him a forced smile- “It’s an inside joke.” You sniffle and the tip of your nose with the side of your hand as you hear the call ring. You desperately hope that he’ll pick up. He promised that he would. Or at least, he insinuated that when you needed him, he’ll come for you. Maybe you held too much trust in him. You frown. You held too much trust in a mass murderer. You suck in your bottom lip and press the top of your teeth down against the soft flesh. Surely, there must be something wrong with you for you to even hold any amount of trust in a man like that, but to be fair, he did… do something to the man who assaulted you, and that was sweet of him. Sort of.

You hear the phone click and you look down, the timer starting as his voice is echoed into the room, everyone leaning closer to you to hear what he has to say. “What’s wrong?” A smile slowly curves your lips, and you look away, your hand covering your ever growing smile. He’s worried for you. Granted you don’t call him, so he must be worried or at least surprised by this. “Are you okay?”

You look at Dabi who gives you a curt nod and you take a shaky inhale. “I- So, um, you’re friends are here.” There’s a pause. “At my place,” you add, wanting to clarify.

“You were supposed to tell him to come over,” Twice whines, slumping in his seat with arms crossed. His tone shifts and you hold the phone tight in your hands. “Didn’t Dabi tell you he wanted to see his reaction?”

“I thought the nod was to tell him,” you retort in a high-pitched voice, your face aflame. “I didn’t know I was supposed to just tell him to come over. He would have come over on his own. There wasn’t any reason to call him!” By the end the volume of your voice has risen, your lungs devoid of air as you try to push your statements out.

“They’re there now?” He asks and you let out a sigh, dipping your head forward and nodding, mumbling a soft yes, when you realize that he can’t see you nodding.

“No dipshit, we’re here tomorrow,” Dabi says, humor heavy in his voice as his clasps around your shoulder and his other hand covers yours, bringing your phone close to his lips. “What the fuck do you think?”

“Can we not curse? We’re probably giving Shigaraki’s poor partner a heart attack as we speak,” Mr. Compress comments.

“We just broke into their apartment,” Toga says with a disbelief, and when you look up, he’s rolling her eyes at Mr. Compress’s stare- or at least what you assume, given his mask is still on but pointed in her direction. “I’m pretty sure if that didn’t kill ‘em, then cursing won’t do it either.”

“This was a horrible idea,” Spinner comments, running a clawed hand through his hair.

“I’m going over right now,” Tomura comments. “Just wait for me there, okay? I’ll see you as soon as I can.” Immediately after, he hangs up, and without saying goodbye, your phone blinks the time of the call to you, and you’re left alone in a room full of notorious villains who aren’t fond of you.

It’s silent for a moment, the little debate now put to rest and your phone is still in your hand, Dabi having let go of you after Tomura hanged up. You can still feel the burning sensation that he left, the roughness of his hand that is different compared to Tomura’s. It’s uncomfortable and you’re left shaking your leg, your phone fading to black.

“Hey,” when you look up, Toga is snapping her fingers to get your attention and you nod. “Do you have anything to drink here? I’m kind of thirsty.”

You’re bewildered for a second staring at her with wide eyes as if she hadn’t just had a knife pointed towards you. You nod. “Yeah, I think I have some water and ginger ale. I think I also have lemonade,” you say, pointing to where the kitchen is. “Do you want me to go get it for you?”

“Yes, please,” she chirps, smiling sweetly at you and pulling the sleeves of her sweater further down. “Just bring me whatever, I’m not that picky.”

“Yeah, okay.” You rise to stand and when you take a step towards the kitchen. You point to the empty space between each member, your smile still tense but more polite than before. “Uh, do you guys want anything to drink? I might have some mango and peach drinks too.”

“Oh wait! I change my answer! Can I have a mango drink?” Toga asks, leaning towards you, her smile eager.

“I’ll have a mango too,” Spinner adds, raising his hand and lowering it when you nod.

“Ginger ale for me!” Twice comments.

“A peach for me,” Magne adds.

“I’ll take water,” Dabi says, spreading his arms against the back of the couch.

“I’ll go along with you to help,” Mr. Compress adds, standing up and walking beside you, hooking his arm with yours. “I’ll choose when we get there. Just lead the way, dear.”

You walk before pausing and rushing to the door. “Wait, wait!” You call, grabbing your grocery bags. “Let me go put these away before anything spoils,” you say, dashing to the kitchen with Mr. Compress behind you.

In the kitchen, you begin to assort things where they belong, frowning when some bags are wet and uncomfortable, and you toss them to the sink. The man in the mask has taken it upon himself to aid you in placing things away, organizing your fridge to make sure that it all fits neatly. Once done, Mr. Compress leans down to look through your fridge, his arms reaching inside and pulling out a drink one by one, letting them rest on the floor where you immediately grab them.

“I think I might have a bottle of Qoo somewhere in there. I’m not entirely sure,” you drift, your hands slowly growing cold the longer you hold onto the drinks. “You’re to take it. I think it’s apple flavored.”

He rises with his drink in hand. The Qoo and you nod at his choice. “Has it been in here long?” He asks, spinning the bottle around to check for an expiration date. You shrug in response and he grabs his mask, pulling it away from his face to reveal his face still hidden but now with a balaclava. The white mask flashes and in its place is a small marble that is put inside his pocket. “I suppose it can’t be bad to drink something like this then.” You nod, turning around, before he stops. “Ah, before we go back, is it okay to ask you a question? Once again, you nod, placing the drinks down on the counter. “What is your relationship with Shigaraki?”

Even you still don’t know the answer. You’ve already admitted that it’s easier to be with him than to deny him. It’s safer that way, but you still can’t help but smile when he actively cares for you. “We’re together,” you conclude, knowing that even if it were vague, it still answered his question. “You know, as a couple.”

“Willing?” He adds, twisting the cap off of his drink, bringing it close to his lips. You narrow your eyes at him. “Forgive me, but while Shigaraki isn’t ugly, he’s still a villain. He has his faults as we all do, but as a close comrade, I have to ask, why is it that you chose to date him?” You swallow and turn away from him, your hands chilled and slightly wet as you cross your arms. “This remains between us, but I’m not against the others getting involved. It may not seem like it, but we’ve all stuck together for a reason.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “Is that a threat?” You stare at him, your stomach twisting into knots.

“It’s just a word of advice,” he replies, the drink in his hand as he slowly clasps it back. The mascot stares at you with a wide grin and you regret allowing him to take the last of your Qoo- even if it was forgotten in the back of your fridge.

“He liked me first.” You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to push yourself to stay focused and not tear up in front of a man you don’t know. “He’s persuasive in all sorts of ways. I just found it easier to be with him rather than be scared of him.” You shrug, gathering the drinks back into your arms. “He’s nice to me. He’s done me a huge favor and even if I don’t agree with his- er- line of work, I’m not going to report him or anything. He hasn’t exactly given me an out with this relationship, but he hasn’t been forceful with me or anything. Maybe a bit scary, but he’s been okay.” With a free hand, you scratch at your neck and tilt your head, frowning. “It’s just a weird mix of easy and difficult with him.”

“So you were forced into the relationship,” he concludes and you shrug.

“I uh- I found him injured one night and I fixed him up the best I could.” You finally choose to look at the man before you, your stomach churning so quickly, you’re afraid that you really are tasting acid on your tongue. “The next night he came back and he was- I guess, for lack of a better word, obsessed with me?” It sounds so conceited, but it’s the truth. You break away from his gaze and take a step back, already wanting to return to the living room, the drinks leaving you freezing. “He was sweet, but you know, forceful with the idea that we were together. I don’t mind it- now at least- I was scared in the beginning, but it’s nice just knowing he will be there for me.”

Mr. Compress nods his head slowly, reaching over to grab a few drinks in his hands. “I suppose that’s a good enough answer.” He walks ahead of you, standing by the door frame when he looks back. “Come on, let’s go back.”

Back in the living room, the drinks are handed to each respective person, your hands cold as you sit above them, cushioned between your thighs and the couch. You keep your gaze on Mr. Compress who smiles gently at you before thanking you for the drink. You turn away when you hear rapid knocking at your door, the handle twisting, trying to break against the lock.

You know that it’s him. It has to be him. And despite any ill feelings that you had towards him before, you want him to be here. You rise up, dashing to the door and unlocking it, greeted by Tomura who looks at you briefly, before staring behind you where his friends sit. He pushes past you, closing the door behind him and removing his hood, his hair ruffles and strands misplaced as he pushes you behind him.

“What the fuck are you all doing here?” Tomura asks, holding your hand in his. You look down, the glove covering his hand and his fingertips seem softer somehow. You look back up, your eyes meeting with Mr. Compress and you look back down, taking a step closer to him, your hand rising to clutch the back of his sweatshirt in your grip.

“We’re drinking, what does it look like?” Dabi resorts, taking a sip of his water as if to prove his point.

Tomura turns to you and you hold his hand in both of yours, looking away from him. “Did they hurt you?” You snort and shake your head. “Don’t lie to me.” His hand pulls away from your grasp, leaving your hands intertwined with each other. He holds your face, lifting it upwards to face him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

A part of you wonders what he’d do if you say no. They didn’t try to hurt you- except for the hand crushing- but you rather not get on any of their bad sides. You smile delicately at him, nodding your head and stepping closer to him, letting your forehead press against his chest, before you pull away to look at him. “Yeah, I’m good. You know me, I get spooked easily.” You pull away from him and grab his hand, pulling him toward the couch. “Come on, let’s sit. Do you want something to drink? I have ginger ale,” you say, with a lilt at the end and he nods. His hand curves against the back of your head and he pulls you close, his head leaning down and you think he’s going to kiss you, but he lets go before he can and walks to the kitchen.

“He took that a lot better than I thought,” Magne comments, holding her drink in her hand. “You think he’s going to explode later?”

“Obviously,” Dabi answers, placing his bottle on the floor. “Yo! Shigaraki! Bring me another water!” Dabi shouts, his hand cupping the side of his mouth.

Your eyes widen and you wave your hands, shushing him. “You have to be quiet!” You whisper yell, as if you all hadn't talked in your regular voices before. “I have neighbors! What if they hear you?”

He gives you a wide grin and shakes his head. “It’s a name. I’m sure there are more people with his last name-” he jerks his head at Tomura who walks back to the living room, tossing the water beside Dabi. “Anyways, just tell them you’re in some play or whatever-” he twists the cap off and before taking a sip, he looks at you with a lazy smile- “people are a lot more willing to believe something like that.”

Tomura sits beside you, his legs spread, his knee knocking against yours, and you lean close to him, frowning at Dabi. “It’s still risky,” you say with a pout, gripping the end of your shirt.

“Hey!” Toga says, standing up, her drink empty as she tosses it at Dabi. She ignores his yelp and pointed glare. “If you’re dating Tomura-” she points her fingers between the two of you- “then that means that we’re friends!” She looks at you with a wide grin and you nod. It would feel rather rude if you denied the poor girl of friendship- villain or not, confrontation and denying is something that is not your strongest trait. “Really? Does that mean I get to use your bath?”

Your eyes widen, in both worry of that being her first request and fear of that being her first request. “Yeah, of course. Do you want me to-”

“No, it’s okay,” she smiles and walks away from the living room. “It’s in an apartment, I think I can find it easily enough. Anyways, I’ll probably snoop around, so see you in a bit!” She says, before moving away to go and open doors.

It’s silent for a beat before Spinner pops up. “Do you have wi-fi?” You nod. “Mind if I have the password?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” You grab your phone and scroll through your notes app, finding the name of the router and password, and you pass it to him, watching as he pulls out his phone to copy the numbers. Magne leans beside him, pulling out her phone and connecting to the wi-fi, her finger tapping against the screen to make sure it doesn’t dim.

“I’m going to turn on the television!” Twice comments, standing up to grab the remote. When he sits back down, he moves to sit beside Dabi.

“Don’t put anything dumb,” Dabi comments, making himself comfortabel on the couch, his hands going to grab at a throw pillow and brining it to his lap. “And nothing too loud, I’m starting to get a headache.”

“I have some pain medication.” You turn your attention to Dabi. “Do you want me to go get you some?” He spares you a glance, and when he returns his attention to the television that is flipping from channel to channel, he nods.

“I’ll go get it, dear. Where is it?” Mr. Compress says, standing up from the couch.

“Oh okay,” you chirp, leaning back towards Tomura. “It’s in the kitchen. The first drawer by the fridge.”

You turn to Tomura, grabbing his hand in yours. “I didn’t expect to meet them so soon,” you say in a whisper, turning yourself until you’re facing him. “I have to admit, I was really scared.”

He knocks his head lightly against yours and squeezes your hand. “I wish they hadn’t found out where you live, but I guess that can’t be helped now.” He glances at you and returns his attention to the bottle in hand. “Do you know how they found you?” You shake your head and he sighs. “I’ll be here next time.”

While you hadn’t realized just how alarming it is they found you, you can’t help but latch onto the last statement of his. Your head tilts and you look at him with knitted brows. “Next time?”

“Next time they’re here,” he clarifies. “I’ll make sure I come before them.” You nod slowly and he takes another sip of his drink. With your free hand you grab the drink, your hand curving around his and he watches as you pull the drink toward you, taking a sip from it. The apple in his throat bobs and he stares at the television that plays the news before changing to some sci-fi movie. “Whenever you want us to leave, you just say the word, okay?”

You watch the alien hatch from its egg, the membrane sticking to its skin as it opens its mouth. The whole scenario feels surreal. The group of people who threatened you now sit at your home, drinking your drinks, using your bath, taking your pills, and watching your television. And here you are, holding hands with the ringleader, acting as if you two are in a happy relationship that was mutual and not one that was forced upon you. You turn to him and with worry written over your face, he frowns. “Can we talk about something sometime soon?” Your heart falls when you see his face consumed with fear, his eyes scanning over your face, looking for a hint of what you want to talk about. You smile and pull your hand away from him, letting it rest over his thigh. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. Just a-” you struggle to find the proper words that doesn't make this relationship sound like some bad experiment- “an overlook of the relationship. Nothing bad, I promise.” With a smile at the end of your words, he remains silent, nodding his head and turning to watch the television.

taglist:

@chai-tea-bagels @tirzamisu @ikatella

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likeastarstar · 3 years ago

Text

Invisible String Pt.2

Part One

(A/N: read part one before this part if you haven't already so it'll make sense!)

masterlist.

Jungkook interested you, so you kissed him.

"I don't normally do this," You promised, feeling breathless as Jungkook kissed his way down your jaw to your neck.

"Same," Jungkook nodded urgently, barely processing what you said in favor for tugging you by the waist so that you were straddling him in the back of the cab he had called for the two of you. He said he just didn't want to leave you stranded at the club, that he'd see you home. But one thing led to another and you were currently praying the cab driver didn't yell at you.

Jungkook's hands were everywhere, rubbing at exposed skin, grazing through your hair, flattening against the small of your back. He rocked your hips back and forth against his lap, frowning again in concentration. Shit- he was really hot.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed, wondering what he looked like under his leather jacket. He felt so solid under your touch, like he belongs there. You dragged your other hand through his hair, pushing it back and off his forehead. He keened under your touch, smiling slightly while his eyes fluttered closed as your nails dug into his scalp lightly. You reached the nape of his neck and tugged on Jungkook's hair so that he was looking up at you in his lap, eyes snapping open in sharp attention.

Jungkook's lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something before-

"First stop." The cab driver interrupted, making you jump slightly as the car came to a screeching halt in front of your apartment complex.

You would've asked him to come inside- except that Jungkook practically pushed you out of the car with a fleeting reminder about the money you still owed him. Ouch. You had clearly completely misread the situation, but that didn't stop you from thinking about Jungkook from that moment on.

You looked for him everywhere, scanning crowds on your daily commute, lingering at the same crosswalk you had met him at. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor when you boarded the bus on your way home most days, trying to catch a glimpse of those black boots.

The next time you did see him was three weeks later, at a gaming cafe, of all places.

"No, no, no- NO!" You whispered, scoffing in disbelief as you lost for the third time that night.

This was not normal for you- loosing, that is. You blamed it on the other abnormality of your current situation: being in a gaming cafe. Normally, you'd be playing LoL in the comfort of your own home sans-pants. But one overly excited moment and a mug of tea placed too closely to your set up and boom- no computer for you. At least while it's in repair.

"You're very dramatic," A voice said next to you, snapping you out of your spiral.

You frowned and looked over to whoever was next to you, locking eyes on Jungkook, who was currently slurping down noodles like someone was going to take them from him. You shrieked in surprise, the two of you jumping in your chairs at the same moment. "Are you stalking me?" You whisper-yelled, leaning away from him.

"No," He snapped, talking with his mouth full. "I got here two hours before you, I just didn't feel like saying hi until now. I could ask you the same question."

You watched him eat in awe, trying not to fixate on the way his tongue looked snaking out to lick his lips every now and then. There had been too many coincidental run-ins between the two of you for this not to be fate. You shook your head, throwing the incredibly stupid thought out of your head.

"Anyway, good thing I ran into you," You shrugged, choosing to ignore the fact that the last time you had seen him, you were rubbing your pussy all over his lap. "I have something for you."

He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, waiting expectantly as you dug around in your bag for a moment. You found what you were looking for, a small keychain of a skeletal hand in the same positioning as the tattoo on his forearm. "I saw it and thought of you, so I got it for you. Here, rock on." You explained, handing it to him.

He laughed slightly, taking it from you gingerly and inspecting it closely. "My tattoo means I love you, not rock on." He pointed out, pulling out his keys and putting the token on the loop.

There was a warm feeling in your chest knowing he was actually going to use it, one that only grew when you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks, "Yeah, well, the keychain means rock on." You quipped, "Do you like it or not?"

"I do," He said quickly, holding up his keys with a bright smile. You sent one back to him, beaming so hard your cheeks hurt. "Thank you."

At this point, neither Jungkook or you ever made plans to see each other. You knew it would just happen on its own. Which is exactly what happened a month later, on what could only be called the worst day of your life.

Things hadn't been going your way for a very, very long time. You usually had pretty good luck, but suddenly it was like the universe had forsaken you altogether. After a particularly terrible blind date, you had had enough- no more dating. This guy was all kinds of awful, he didn't laugh at any of your jokes, he had a terrible taste in music- he even wore the wrong clothes. He had loafers on- loafers. God, Jungkook would never wear those.

Instead of wallowing in a ruined night, you did what any struggling girl boss would do- you got yourself dessert.

You walked to the nearest 24 hour diner, pushing the doors open quickly. There was barely anyone here, thankfully. It was the perfect place to be alone.

Except that two seconds after you sat down in a quiet booth next to a window, Jungkook came marching up to your table. He was wearing a color other than black- this time it was a patterned buttoned down shirt and loose fitting trousers. You couldn't see his shoes, but that wasn't really what you were focused on at the moment. No, instead you could only stare at his latest haircut, cropped short on the sides and parted neatly. Who was this guy and what did he do to your fluffy headed soulmate?

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" You asked calmly, at this point you were completely unsurprised to see him popping up at the most random times.

"I saw you from the window on my way home and figured I'd say hi," He shrugged, sliding into the booth beside you, immediately tossing his phone haphazardly onto the table. "Although I'm beginning to think you're a figment of my imagination. It's bizarre how you just keep...appearing."

"You're telling me," You snorted, resting your chin on your hand propped up on the table. "But I'm not sure if you'd be able to kiss a figment of your imagination."

Jungkook blushed deeply and you laughed for the first time that day. He was just so easy to mess with. Jungkook pouted childishly and stole your menu, burying his face in it.

"We did a little more than a kiss in that cab," He said in a whiny voice, "It's pretty late, why are you at a diner at one in the morning?"

"Nothing, bad day." You mumbled, "I needed pie."

"Valid reasoning," He said pensively, "You look nice, by the way. I like your earrings, they match mine."

You looked at the chain looping through his double piercings, realizing he was right- you had a similar version in your own ears. Weird. You didn't get a chance to return the compliment before the waitress came over and Jungkook ordered literally every kind of pie on their very extensive menu and two coffees.

"If pie will make you happy we might as well go all out." He reasoned, only noticing your outraged face when the waitress left. "Anyway, I got you something."

He dug around the backpack he has dumped in the booth beside him when he got here, pulling out a flash drive with a a tiny keychain of a butterfly connected to it.

"I don't know if I've never mentioned this before, but I'm a musician." He explained, holding it out to you. "This has my latest stuff on it. Nothing fancy, just wanted you to listen before I send it off to my label. Plus, the keychain reminded me of you."

You took it from him slowly, holding it as if it were worth a million dollars- which to you, it was.

"Sometimes I think I dreamt you up," You mumbled, still staring at the flash drive. You couldn't wait to listen to it, to hear his velvet tone and silvery vocals whenever you wanted. This was the first, tangible thing that connected him to you, a reminder that even if the universe hated you right now- at least Jungkook was in it.

"Touch me and see," He offered, leaning back in his seat with a small smirk on his face.

Your eyes flicked back to him, a dare written across his features and a thread pulling at your heart. You leaned forward, a smirk of your own on your face until his phone buzzed, interrupting the heated moment.

You weren't trying to be nosey, but the bright light of the screen caught your eye and you glanced at it quickly. It was a text from someone, their contact saved under a series of hearts and one word: wifey.

Wait- his what?

TO BE CONTINUED...PART THREE

(A/N: MUAHAHAA! If you've made it to the end, thank you, I love you, I'm sorry. Next part is the last part, as always feedback is so so appreciated! Send me an ask goddamnit!)

#jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts fic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x y/n #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #soulmate au #soulmate!bts #soulmate!jungkook #bts imagines #bts one shot

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plutonianrising · 4 years ago

Text

while the cat’s away a.k/k.k

pairing: akaashi x kenma x f!reader

wc: 4.5k

description: akaashi shouldn’t have left his two brats home alone for so long

a/n: this was v much inspired by that “i think you deserve two boyfriends” tiktok so thank that guy for this

cw: fem!reader, dom!akaashi, switch!reader, switch!kenma, established poly relationship, safe word check-ins, rules, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, threesome, cum-eating, aftercare implied

MINORS DNI PLS

Sometimes it can get boring when it’s just you and Kenma at home for the day. You know he’s usually busy streaming and it's usually fine since Keiji keeps you entertained. However, this morning Keiji insisted on handling the grocery shopping alone, saying it’d just be a quick in-and-out trip and he didn’t want Kenma to wake up left by himself. It was hours later now and Kenma had kissed you good morning and swiftly turned to his games. Even on his “day off” he’s playing with some of his friends. You’re kicking yourself now for having recently bought his current fixation.

“Kyaaannmaaaa” you whine loudly and flop onto his lap. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as he moves his controller closer to his face. It’s almost like you’re not even there. You wouldn’t even be sure that he noticed you if it weren’t for the faint furrow in his brows and grimace on his lips.

“Kenma you’ve been playing since you woke up. Can’t you take a little break? I don’t even think I’ve seen you eat yet,” you try to command even just a bit of his attention.

“I’m not hungry.” He grumbles. “And can’t you see I’m in the middle of a match? I can’t just leave whenever.”

Your pouting turns to a full-blown scowl as his eyes leave his game for a moment to peek down at you; he realizes how quickly you’re reaching the threshold of your patience.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I know you hate when I play on my days off. Just sit in my lap and we’ll go do something else once this round finishes.” He backtracks. You roll your eyes but maneuver yourself so that you're straddling him with his arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders. You lean your head in the crook of his neck, gaining comfort from the smell of his shampoo even while your boyfriend is annoying the shit out of you.

“You said one more match like 3 matches ago. I thought we had a rule about lying.” You say even though you know he really isn’t listening to you. You can faintly hear one of his friends talking in his headset. You thread your fingers through his grown-out hair absent-mindedly and open your phone with your other hand to text Keiji.

Kenma broke a rule. I’m gonna punish him. See you when you get home x

You’ve barely sent the message before you’re pressing down on his lap a little harder. You wiggle your ass as if feigning trying to get comfortable. You shift Kenma’s headset so that he can hear you whisper in his ear.

“Kenmaaa…” You trail off. “What happened to no lying hmm?” He stiffens and a cruel smile creeps its way onto your face. You place a hand on his chest and continue playing with his hair with the other, trying to coax him. You both know he can’t say anything with his friends on the other side and you relish in the fiery glare he shoots you.

You love how easy Kenma is to fluster. A breathy whisper against his neck. A sharp nip at his neck. It takes little to nothing to set him off. Even when you’re being punished and are forced to simply watch Keiji take him relentlessly. Kenma is breathtaking to you. When he’s annoying you. When he’s shyly grabbing your hand or Keiji’s to fall asleep. When he’s fucked out beyond recognition. At this point you’re probably obsessed over even the red that tints his ears when he begins getting overwhelmed.

Sometimes you have to pay for your teasing but you know today at least, you’re fully in command. You know Kenma is too stubborn to shut off his game in the middle of a match with everyone on. After 3 years with him and Keiji, you know he’s a high-risk-high-reward kind of person. He was going to try his hardest to get through whatever you put him through without making a sound. Double or nothing.

“You remember how to tell me to stop, right?” You whisper again and press a kiss to his ear. Kenma nods.

“Hmm I wonder if I should make you say it out loud with everyone on call? Yea they’d think it’s random but better safe than sorry right?” You tease him. He shivers and goosebumps appear on his skin as you lightly drag your nails up his neck. He grunts softly and rolls his hips up to press against you. His eyes are begging you to drop that idea. Your wicked smile grows and you peck his lips.

“You’re right baby. There’s already plenty of time to embarrass you. Don’t forget to talk to your friends on call Kenma. Wouldn’t want them thinking something happened to you.” You chuckle darkly.

You place your hands under his shirt and slowly slide up until you reach his nipples. They’re already hard from the chill of your room paired with his thin t-shirt. You press against one, softly toying with it with the pad of your finger. You watch as he tries to remain stone faced. His ears are a dead giveaway, though. You kiss all over his neck as he responds to someone. They’re feather-soft teases. You want him to have to beg to be marked by you.

“Kenma you’re so greedy..” You growl and pinch his nipple. He startles a bit at the surprise but quickly regains his composure. “You wanted this didn’t you? Too shy to say outright you wanted me to fuck you while you played?”

“Or is it that you just like riling me up?” You tease him by grinding down onto his hardening dick. You roll both his nipples between your fingertips now, occasionally pinching them.

“Wanted the best of both worlds and even while I’m giving it to you, you can’t even be bothered to make those cute sounds you know I like so much.” You sigh, feigning sadness. You grind against him harder as you play with his nipples. You tease him further by kissing up his neck. It’s hard not to relish in his slight trembles when you blow cool air against his ear. While your focus is mostly on pleasuring Kenma, you cannot help the soft sighs that escape you. Seeing him struggle to control the stuttering of his hips only eggs you on.

“How loud do you think I can be before they can all hear me?” You smirk and let out a quiet moan. Kenma’s eyes widen in panic and he slaps a hand over your mouth quickly. You slowly lick his palm while you maintain eye contact. His golden eyes are transfixed on yours, searching for any measure of mercy. He was kidding himself thinking he would find any. Many sessions with Keiji had trained you to follow through when you committed to something.

Kenma slowly pulls his hand away from your face and you lean in closer. Your lips are just barely brushing against his as you mutter “Either you beg for me with everyone on the call. Or I just keep cumming by myself.”

He knows it’s a promise and not a threat. In terms of stamina, you have always had him beat, making over stimulating him a pretty frequent occurrence. At the beginning he and Keiji would switch out when it got to be too much for him but you two quickly learned that even with tears streaming down his face, his one thought is to satisfy you. You grab his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks a little. With the other you cover his mic. “What’s our word so I know you know it?”

“It’s peaches. I’m ok. I want this,” he rushes out quietly, growing even redder. It’s this neediness that you so deeply craved. Kenma was quiet but he wasn’t exactly shy. When he really wanted something, he would push past his reservations to get it. And finally, right now, he wants you more than anything else.

You finally kiss him deeply and Kenma reciprocates eagerly. To your content, his hips roll harder against you when your tongue enters his mouth.

“Kenma? Why aren’t you moving, let’s go!” You hear someone say. You pull away from Kenma so that he can answer and he furrows his brow, obviously not ready for it to be over.

“Lev maybe if you quit worrying about what I’m doing you’d get more kills.” He quietly snips. You wince and giggle at his harsh tone, almost feeling bad about being the reason behind his expression. You lean close so you can speak into Kenma’s mic and as you talk you’re also taking a beat to fully appreciate how flushed and pretty Kenma looks. His mouth is wet and slightly pink and though his eyes are half-lidded he’s looking at you with full expectancy. It’s enough to pierce your heart. You aren’t sure if you’re actually punishing him or spoiling him rotten.

“Sorry about that boys” You giggle into the mic. Kenma’s mouth twitches downward a little when he hears how his friends’ react to your voice on mic. “Please forgive Kenma, I distracted him a little.”

You don’t really pay attention to how they respond, turning your focus to slipping off Kenma’s boxers and your panties. You toss them somewhere across the room. As you slick Kenma’s dick with your wetness, it crosses your mind that Keiji could come home at any moment. You haven’t even looked to see how Keiji responded to your text. You’re probably screwed if he told you to wait until he gets back but you can’t focus on that with Kenma looking at you so eagerly, using every inch of his self-control to not fuck up into you.

Placing him at your entrance, you hold his gaze as you slide onto him. You take him all the way, forcing yourself to be just as quiet as he is. You let him try and focus on his game as you slowly roll your hips, silently screaming at how full he makes you feel. You fixate on the way his brows furrow and his breath quietly hitches. Kenma’s face is fully flushed as you ride him, not willing to give in or lose his game. You smirk and turn around slightly to look at his game. It brings you a weird sense of satisfaction that, even though he’s playing like normal, his dick is already twitching like he’s close.

“Kyanma when’d you get so sensitive?” you tease quietly. “You been secretly touching yourself recently? Huh?”

“I-I” he begins to stutter out indignantly, trying not to pant too loudly. You cover the mic one more time. “I w-wouldn’t dare. J-just feels too good.”

You continue rolling your hips, reaching up with your other hand to palm your own breast. You don’t even try to resist the tightness building inside you. You let out a low moan as you shudder around him, your walls clenching around Kenma’s dick so deliciously that you can see the air choked in his throat as he stifles his own moans. As promised, you fuck him through your orgasm. His trembling makes it so much harder for you to relent. You want him to cum so badly, forcing you to turn off his game and fuck him until he’s a sobbing mess.

He does so almost as soon as the almost obsessive thought crosses your mind. He holds you tight against him and buries his face in your collar, biting down hard in a final act of defiance. You yank Kenma’s head back by his hair and he’s glaring at you like his face and chest aren’t completely flushed and his pupils aren’t blown out. You let go of his hair and simply smirk and your anger makes it so much more fun to force shut down his computer.

You wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze. “Kenma’s been such a naughty fucking kitty today haven’t you?”

You slam down on his dick again and Kenma moans loudly this time. You aren’t sure if it’s from the pain of being overstimulated or simply the fact that he no longer faces the threat of embarrassment. Regardless, you know he’s going to be begging for that feeling again by the time you’re through with him.

You hear the front door of your apartment open and the familiar jangle of Keiji’s keys and soft footsteps. Keiji’s home but he puts the groceries away first. You know this is him giving you both time to collect yourselves and be on your knees somewhere for punishments. You know this but Kenma doesn’t look keen on moving and your heart is already beating in anticipation at how much further you could take this.

You hear Keiji’s footsteps grow louder and in seconds he’s right in front of you, analyzing what he’s seeing: an unplugged computer, Kenma slowly regaining his composure, and you right in his lap, lazily looking over at him with a smug little smile on your face.

“Hey baby.” You can tell from one look what Keiji told you in response to your text. You can't help the way your body shudders in expectancy as he stares at you sternly. You kiss Kenma’s neck gently as you meet Keiji’s gaze, knowing full well you won’t be ready for the punishments he will be handing out.

“You had no intention of listening to me, did you?” Keiji says fondly as he walks over and stands behind you. He slides his hands around you: one pulling your against him, the other guiding your head up. His touch is gentle, his fingers moving you more so as a suggestion than a command. You struggle to keep your eyes open and on his beautiful features. Dark hair that curls in the strangest spots fell slightly forward. The sharpness in his deep blue eyes contrasts the loving way he strokes your cheek.

“Mmm… not really. Mmsorry ‘Kaashi but it’s so… much easier to just ask you for forgiveness. You’re so sweet to us.” Your words slur a bit and you smile up at your other boyfriend. You secretly wonder if you’re making the right call by pushing his buttons further. But oh well.

“Oh it's so much easier is it?” Keiji asks, his voice takes on an icy tone. He finally glances towards Kenma, slightly dazed as he watches you both. “Kenma do you agree?”

You all know that no matter what Kenma says, he’s already in deep shit for going along with you. However, there is still a right and wrong answer. He could either a) agree and punish you with Keiji and receive a lighter punishment or b) side with you. The two of you make eye contact as he weighs his options. Memories of you sandwiched between them, mind hazy as they treated you like little more than a toy flood you. You vividly remember the time Keiji sent you over the edge repeatedly while you choked on Kenma’s dick, tears forming from how desperate for air you were. And the way they gazed down at you with your panties shoved in your mouth, so fully focused on making you scream that you feel like you’d been caught by two beasts.

You would never openly admit how much option A makes your mouth water but you don’t have to. Kenma doesn’t miss the way your thighs try to squeeze together, only to be met by his in between. Or the way your breathing has slightly picked up again. Or how you tightened around his still-sensitive dick the moment the thought crossed your mind.

“Yea ‘Kaashi… you’ve been really nice lately.” Kenma looks between you both and smiles before pressing close and embracing you. He holds onto part of your shirt and nuzzles into your neck. You don’t care if he was saying we’re in this together or I'm not letting you get all the attention after you ruined my game. Regardless, you still get to see Kenma trembling right next to you with puffy lips slightly parted, ready to beg, ready to need, ready to please.

Keiji stifles a laugh behind you, covering it quickly before petting both you and Kenma’s hairs. “I didn’t realize I’d been so gracious to my little brats. I guess that means you think it’s finally my turn for a reward?”

“What do you want us to do Master?” You ask coyly.

“Well for one I want you two properly seated somewhere on the floor.” Keiji says coldly. He moves away and you and Kenma quickly take your places. On your knees. Eyes expectant.

“Kitty you look like she put you through hell” Keiji coos at Kenma, looking down at him while he strokes his cheek. You huff.

“I didn’t even-”

“Did I say you could speak sweetheart?” Keiji cuts off your attempt to explain and you know better to try any further. He doesn’t even need to look towards you to keep you in check “Kenma. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened.”

“S-she got mad at me for being on my game so long that she rode me while my mic was on and wouldn’t let me c-cum unless I… begged with everyone on the line.” Kenma looks up at Keiji pleadingly.

“And did you?” Keiji prods.

“D-did I?” Kenma splutters in surprise. The red flush on his body seems permanent at this point.

“Well you obviously came. I can still see it leaking out of her all over our floor. So. Did you beg?” Keiji doesn’t let Kenma avoid his gaze, leaning forward with a firm grip on his cheeks.

“N-no.”

“No. Instead you bit her.”

Of course he noticed that.

“So let me see if I got this right. Instead of accepting your punishment like a good boy or conceding… you decided to take advantage of her kindness and my absence. God it’s like you want that pretty ass of yours lashed until you can’t even sit in your gaming chair.”

Kenma takes in a sharp inhale, trembling slightly. You gulp in turn, knowing that even though Kenma was worse, you aren’t safe from reprimand either.

Keiji fixes his sharp gaze on you and finally acknowledges you. “Did I agree to letting you punish Kenma?”

“No Sir.” You answer quietly, trying to keep the shivers threatening to expose your excitement at bay.

“Take off your shirt and lie on the bed.” He sighs and begins unbuttoning his shirt. You do as you’re told, removing your oversized sweater as you climb onto the king-sized mattress.

“It seems that I’ve been too lenient with the both of you so really the fault lies with me. Allow me to take responsibility for that now.” Keiji says. He stands before you and takes in your form, surely noting how much you’re quivering before lifting and spreading your knees, leaving you on full display. He turns back to Kenma.

“Kitty you should take this chance to properly apologize. Come clean up the mess you made.”

Kenma is just as compliant, quick to kneel where Keiji orders him right in front of your dripping pussy. He can’t even attempt a front, immediately capturing your clit in his mouth. You moan and buck a little at the sudden sensation.

“Easy there Kitty. Take your time.” Keiji chides softly. Kenma hums in response and opts to lick a long stripe against you instead. He tries his hardest to pace himself as he mouths you, gently pushing his tongue in between your folds.

Keiji opens your bedside table and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting some on his own hand and onto Kenma’s ass. You feel the shiver that rips through Kenma as the cold gel runs down him. He takes a quick second to let out a shuddering breath but doesn’t dare look back. You, however, fully stare as Keiji gingerly begins fucking Kenma with his middle finger. Kenma quakes at the feeling and Keiji revels at the sight of you two and how your moans and his combine in the air and fill the room.

“Baby you’re so shameless” Keiji mewls “taking so much pleasure from all the chaos you caused.”

You can’t even argue his point. Every thought of disagreeing had left your head the moment Kenma’s lips had touched your throbbing pussy. All you can do is whine in response.

Keiji doesn’t take his eyes off of you when puts his hand on the back of Kenma’s head and presses him down further. “Make sure you get all the way inside. Only bad boys leave someone else to clean up after them.”

Kenma simply whimpers in response and thrusts his tongue inside you, trying his hardest to move his hips to meet Keiji’s pace at the same time. You can tell Keiji’s purposely changing it to make it harder for him. You continue to tense up helplessly and barely contain your writhing with the very last bits of control over yourself. You know better than to cum right now but the waves of pleasure rushing over you and the sight Keiji fingering Kenma open are quickly clouding your brain.

“Please...” you beg, aching for release. Keiji looks up at you and smiles softly, an utter betrayal when his next words leave his lips.

“Kenma, stop now.”

You both whine and turn your attention to Keiji, facial expressions mirroring each other. He pets Kenma’s hair and plants two quick kisses on his wet mouth. You sit up and pout.

“Keiji, Sir, please, I wanna cum so badly.” You beg, head spinning a bit from the sudden loss.

“Oh so now you acknowledge that I’m in charge.” He says and moves to kiss your cheek next, He places feather light kisses against your jaw as you whine and whimper in protest. Drawing close to your ear, he whispers icily “I have half the mind to fuck your pretty little throat so raw you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks without regretting testing me. But I’m sweet, remember? So listen before I forget that.”

All your dissent dies in your throat and you stiffen.

“Ready to be a good little girl for me now?” He inquires in his normal tone. It’s almost scary how easily he can flip between the two. All you can do is nod and accept the deep kiss he offers as a reward, moaning into his mouth. “Good, now get on the floor next to Kenma. Wanna see you two suck me off.”

You quickly do as you’re told and sit on your knees next to Kenma while Keiji slides off his pants and underwear. With Keiji sitting on the bed in between you, you let a thick glob of spit fall on his dick and work it down with your hand, slowly stroking him. Kenma positions himself and takes Keiji’s head in between his lips, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks him down.

“You two have been so naughty today and now look at you..” Keiji says breathily and pushes your hair back away from your faces. “Sharing my dick so nicely with each other.”

You and Kenma kiss sloppily around the head of his dick, letting your tongues coat Keiji further in spit. Even though you and Kenma bicker more often, the one thing you two agree on without fail is that Keiji looks the hottest when you service him together. It’s how his eyes focus fully on the looks you give him, full of trust and devotion. How he’s always sure to praise equally as he grips whatever or whoever is nearest to gain some kind of grounding.

“Neither of you is getting my dick today... but you can make each other cum. Should be enough, right? Since you two were so impatient you couldn’t even wait for me.” Keiji teases in between his groans. You try to shove down your disappointment as you use your free hand to reach for Kenma’s dick. You pump him in time with the rhythm you manage to form with Keiji’s large dick in your throat. Your eyes burn but you try to keep down your gags and moans as Kenma starts rubbing your clit fervently, wanting instead to clearly hear how he and Keiji sound. His touch is vengeful, a punishment for putting him in this mess and you nearly see stars from the feeling of his sticky fingers circling your most sensitive spots.

“P-please Sir, t-this time I really can’t hold it,” Kenma whimpers, looking utterly destroyed with tears clinging to his lashes and a trail of spit still connecting him to Keiji’s dick.

“If you think you can keep servicing us while you cum then go ahead baby, but you better keep moving.” Keiji permits and it’s all Kenma needs to cry out and shoot out ropes of his cum all over your hand. He continues his ministrations against you and Keiji and soon it’s your own hips that are stuttering. You do not have Kenma’s level of control so you try to shove down your incoming orgasm.

“I need you to cum Sir please, please please. I-I won’t last. Please I want you to cover us with your sticky cum” you beg. You look up at him from under your lashes as you go back to mouthing him and feel him throb in between your lips.

“Yes Sir pleaseee. Want your cum all over.” Kenma adds, his words slurring together. If he couldn’t focus on both speaking and pleasuring his partners he would simply put his all into the latter.

“Want my cum? Want Sir to make a mess all over those pretty little faces?” Keiji groans, bucking his hips into your mouth.

“God yes please.. Please!” Kenma continues and Keiji takes his dick out of his mouth to stroke himself over your faces. Kenma is steadily bringing you to your own edge and you both can’t help but open your mouths in hopes to catch Keiji’s cum on your tongue while you orgasm. With a shout, Keiji begins cumming, spurting all over you and Kenma.

“Go ahead sweetheart, fucking cum right now” Keiji hisses and you convulse as you finally let go, holding onto his leg as your orgasm rips through you. It’s hard to focus on anything besides how easily Keiji and Kenma make you feel like you’re in heaven.

“Now.. have we all learned our lessons?” Keiji utters once he’s down from his high. The sight of Kenma and you leaning against his legs for support makes his heart swell.

“Yes.. Sir.” You two manage to get the words out.

“See I knew my little ones were smart.” He coos gingerly moves to first pick you up and place you onto the bed and then Kenma before grabbing wet wipes. “Now let’s get you all cleaned up.”

#akaashi smut #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi x kenma #haikyuu kenma #kenma smut #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #hq poly #akaashi fic #kenma fic #micco.fics

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bubbleteaimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Back To You

Oikawa Tooru Oneshot

Summary: You’ve moved on. You found someone new so why, why do you keep coming back to him?

Paring: Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cheating! I do not condone actual cheating but this is fanfiction not real life, Unprotected Sex with mentions of breeding but remember to wrap it kids!

You could feel his stare piercing you even from across the court. White hot, curious with a streak of jealousy.

Of course.

That’s to be expected when you show up to your old boyfriend’s match with your new boyfriend. You tried to ignore his stare as you helped Ragnar – your boyfriend – stretch before the game.

“Babe? Can you pull the other now?” He asks you, smiling sweetly, and it makes you sick that you have to give it all your might to concentrate on him, not the brunette standing just on the other side of the court.

“Of course,” You mentally scold yourself for even letting him cross your mind, pushing down the feeling of your hammering heart and complying with Ragnar. “That hard enough baby?”

“I bet I could give it to you harder,” He smiled suddenly, and you feel yourself become flustered as you realize what he meant.

“Shut up!” You scold him lightly, giggling a little while shaking your head. “You’re such a perv, you know that?”

“Oh come on,” Ragnar whines, his bottom lip jutting out a little in a pout. “You promised that if I won this game then we’d...you know...”

“That was only if you won,” You reminded him, emphasizing only. “Which won’t happen if the star player gets put out for pulling a muscle. So focus.”

“Right, right,” Ragnar finally complied and you ignored the whispers as people slowly began to talk.

“Hey...isn’t that Oikawa’s ex girlfriend?” Someone whispered, causing you to tense up.

“Yeah, I wonder what she’s doing here.”

“Do you think she came to see him?”

“Nah, it looks like she moved on. With a player from the opposing team, no less!”

“Come on,” You gently tugged on Ragnar’s arm as your heart hammered in your chest. “Let’s go set you up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ragnar agreed and you tightly gripped his hand as he lead you deeper into his team’s territory. A few people that would be playing greeted you, but you hardly acknowledged them as you sat down on the bench and then heard him talking.

“Big crowd isn’t it?” Oikawa said nonchalantly, but you could hear something lingering in his voice.

“Yeah. Best not get too caught up in it,” You heard someone else respond. Iwaizumi, of course. He had been one of your closest friends when you and Oikawa were still dating, but after you broke up the two of you slowly drifted away.

You felt bad for cutting him off but you knew that he was Oikawa’s friend first and it’d be too awkward trying to share him.

You needed a clean break from Oikawa, so why, why were you straining so hard to hear him talk?

“Let’s go say hello to some of our opponents,” You then heard Oikawa suggest, causing you to freeze. Ragnar had long since walked away, so you were the only one that noticed the seemingly thunderous footsteps of the last two people you wanted to see.

You knew he was coming, you could feel his stare and desperately tried to move. You willed your body to pick itself up, but somehow you remained seated as suddenly his presence washed over you.

“Well, well,” You flinched at his voice, too close for comfort but still as beautiful and smooth as ever. You could tell he was smirking. “You guys seem pretty good from where we’re standing, I can tell this is gonna be a tough game.”

He was lying. You knew Oikawa and you knew that he’d wipe the floor with Ragnar’s team. This was Seijoh after all- they were the favorites for nationals.

“Uh, thanks?” Seeing as your boyfriend was team captain, he was the one that replied. You kept your eyes glued to him, and him only as you watched the interaction.

“No problem,” Oikawa smirked. “You know I’d even go so far to say I’m nervous,” He said, and you wanted to scream from how he was taunting your boyfriend. But you feared it’d be worse if you got involved.

“Well, we’re not called Tigers for no reason,” Ragnar chuckled. His gaze flashed to you and immediately you could see Oikawa scowling.

“Our playing styles seem to be a lot different,” Oikawa started, “So I wish you luck. But I think you’ll find that you and me- we’re not so different after all.”

For the first time since you had broken up with him, you and Oikawa made eye contact. He winked at you as your (E/C) eyes went wide, your mouth going dry. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

The way he purred your name should have been illegal. And you kicked yourself as your heart began to flutter, butterflies forming in your stomach.

Dammit! You tore your eyes away and looked anywhere but him.

God, you fucking hated him.

How did he manage to have this effect on you, months after you had seen each other? How he did still make you nervous? How did he still make your thighs clench together by saying your name just right, just like he used to do while he had you underneath him and whimpering from his touch?

You sucked in a breath and shook away the tears that threatened to surface. You felt so disgusting, sitting there with your body gravitating towards him and that bastard knew it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ragnar frowned, suddenly becoming defensive as he noticed Oikawa looking straight at you. The brunette chuckled.

“Oh nothing,” He sighed like he hadn’t just called out his girlfriend directly. “Well, we better get going. The game should be starting soon. See you around.”

You averted your gaze as you fixated on Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s shoes. Their presence was so off-putting that you flinched again when Oikawa called out your name.

“Oh, and Y/N/N,” You hated the power he still had over you. Because as soon as he addressed you by that name, you looked up.

He smirked. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” He promised, something that he had been retreating over the many texts and DM’s he had sent you.

You gulped.

“Come on, leave her alone,” Iwaizumi gently tugged on Oikawa’s sleeve, dragging him away sending you a look of apology. You nodded in acceptance and then let out a breath when they were finally gone.

“Do you know him?” Ragnar immediately asked, watching Oikawa’s back with hard eyes.

You sighed. “Nope. I’ve never...I’ve never seen him in my life. I was just friends with the guy he was with.”

“Humph,” Ragnar hummed as soon as your phone pinged. Picking it up, you became frozen in shock at the message.

You looked beautiful today, my love. Too bad you were on his arm and not mine.

“Is everything alright?” Ragnar asked carefully, looking at your dejected face. “He didn’t spook you out or anything, did he?”

“N-No, It’s fine,” You stutter, quickly hiding your phone. “I’m fine. Don’t let it get to you- he’s probably just using me to get to you.”

If only he knew. It was much, much more than that.

Oikawa waited for Ragnar to leave and then he smirked when your gaze automatically flickered to his, like he knew it would. Winking, you almost lost it when his lips began to move and he mouthed ‘I love you,’ just when the whistle blew.

–

“YES!”

You grinned in happiness as your boyfriend and his teammates jumped around in victory, having beat Seijou by just a point.

You had to admit, you were on edge the entire game. Regretfully you had spent a good amount of time looking back and forth between your boyfriend and your ex, watching them battle it out.

Ragnar had been amazing out there but Oikawa...Oikawa had been absolutely phenomenal.

It was obvious he had improved in the time you were apart. His spike were still deadly and they were powerful enough to score 15 points. Halfway through the game, you had been sure Seijou would win the game.

But when it really mattered, little mistakes is what got them. So that’s why you were currently celebrating with your team, but didn’t really feel like a win.

Not for you.

“Y/N!” Ragnar snapped you out of your thoughts by pulling you into a sudden kiss, causing you to squeak. “We did it baby- I told you!”

“Yeah!” You were grateful he was too excited to hear your halfhearted reply, and too distracted to see your tight smile. “Congrats, baby. I knew you could do it.”

No you didn’t. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you remembered ranking Oikawa over your own boyfriend. You stomach twisted- how could you do that? How could you sit there that entire game waiting for Ragnar to fail if only you got to see Oikawa win?

You felt sick with yourself.

“Come on,” Ragnar gently tugged on your arm and smiled shyly. “Let’s all get back to the bus, yeah? I believe you have a promise to fufill,” He whispered that last part lowly, causing you to shiver and widen your eyes.

“Right,” You smiled tightly, pretending like your heart wasn’t about to pound out of your chest. “Let me just...let me check to see if we got everything. I’ll do a final sweep and meet you there.”

“Okay,” Ragnar grinned and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek. Then, with all thirteen of his teammates he exited the building leaving you standing there, hollow.

“What are you doing?” You asked yourself, watching them walk away. “Why am I staying?”

It felt wrong to leave just now. It felt like you had something else to do. Someone else to see.

“Dammit,” You cursed as your feet began to go in the opposite direction, jogging lightly and prayed that they were still there.

It was just your luck that Seijou was on the opposite side of the building, and all of the buses were still there which meant there was a possibility he wouldn’t even be inside.

“Shit!”

You couldn’t believe you were being this stupid. Why were you running towards him, hoping to catch him before he left? Why did you care? Why had you never stopped caring?

“Y/N?” Iwaizumi’s surprised voice was difficult to hear over your heavy breathing, but you managed, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“Iwa-Chan,” You used his old nickname, setting yourself up straight. “I-”

“Why are you here?” He hadn’t meant it to sound rude, he was surprised that’s all. Hell, you were surprised yourself.

“I...” Why were you here?

Your eyes scanned the surroundings behind Iwaizumi. Fourteen players, but there were sixteen on the team. He followed your gaze, and his eyes softened when he noticed you looking.

“In the locker room,” He suddenly said, snapping your attention back to him.

You frowned. “W-What?”

“He’s in the locker room,” Iwaizumi repeated, knowing that’s who you were looking for. You felt your chest tighten.

“I-I wasn’t...”

“Bus leaves in 30 minutes. Don’t make him late, please,” Iwaizumi told you like it was nothing. You suddenly felt embarrassed. He had read you like an open book.

“T-Thank you,” You nodded in appreciation before turning in that direction. “Thank you, Iwaizumi. I-It was good to see you.”

He studied you for moment. It looked like he was about to say something, but then he just shook his head.

“You too, Y/N-Chan. Thank you for this,” Iwaizumi said. “He...he needs you right now.”

You felt like all the air disappeared from your lungs. Your heart pounded uncomfortably, while a tiny voice in your head told you ‘No. Don’t do this.’

“Okay,” You ignored the voice and got moving. Your feet walking in a direction you shouldn’t have been going. Your heart leading the way while your brain screamed profanities.

When you got to the locker room, you could already hear him pacing around. He was cursing, mumbling to himself about things you couldn’t hear until you got closer.

“O-Oikawa?” Your voice was hesitant, but you forced yourself to say something.

Immediately, his brown eyes snapped to you. Surprise- just like Iwaizumi- filled them, but no sooner than it appeared, it was gone.

“Y-Y/N-Chan?” He stuttered your name like he had never uttered it before. It made you even more nervous, but nevertheless your body pulled you in closer. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I-I came to see you,” You forced out, tearing your eyes away. It was too much. His gaze was too intense.

Oikawa scoffed. “After that? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend, celebrating?”

You didn’t like the way he said ‘your boyfriend.’ It felt wrong, coming from his lips. Like words that shouldn’t exist. You gulped.

“He’s on the bus,” You explained, still keeping your head down. “He...They’re waiting for me.”

“And what-” You could see his shoes getting closer, “Don’t tell me you came back for me,” He said in disbelief.

You sighed. “I wanted to see if you were okay,” You finally got the courage to look up and meet his eyes, and when you did you nearly melted.

Nothing had changed. He could still captivate you with one look- that damn look he was giving you now.

“Oh,” He sounded genuinely confused.

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered slightly. “It’s just...I know how much you hate losing,” You mumbled quietly, embarrassed. “Especially if it’s to...”

“If it’s to him?” Oikawa finished, and you nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. “Well, you wouldn’t be wrong.”

You guys were so close now that you could begin to feel his body heat. Oikawa was always so warm, it was one of the things you love about him.

Wait a minute. Love?

“Hey,” He was bold and reached over to take your hand, causing electricity to flow through both of you. “Look at me.”

Even though it was softly spoken, you knew that it was a command. And, unable to resist him, you did.

You looked deep into his eyes and you could see every ounce of love he had for you. You could see the lust, the longing, but also the pain that still lingered months after you had parted ways.

“Tell me something,” Oikawa spoke again, letting out a breath. “Do you still love me?”

The question caught you off guard. You weren’t expecting him to jump right in, to dive head first after only just seeing you again.

But for Tooru- you knew he needed to know. You knew that your words would determine would what happen next, if the tension between you two would boil over or if it would simmer to a stop.

“I never stopped,” You confessed honestly, clenching your fists. “Everyday- everyday I’m not with you is like hell for me. I keep thinking back to it, that day you left. And I-”

Tears began to well in your eyes at the memory. All the screaming, the crying and the petty insults you had thrown at one another all seemed so...irrelevant now. Oikawa was staring at you with pure love, love that had never stopped for you. And now...now you began to wonder why either of you ever walked away.

“I’m sorry,” His fingers brushed the side of your face and you relished in his touch, immediately melting into him. “I’m sorry for everything- for what I said to you. For walking away...” Oikawa trailed off for a moment and then he resumed, his eyes squeezing shut. “...For letting someone else take you before I had the chance...before I could...”

“Hey,” Now it was his turn to melt into your touch. Oikawa leaned into you as you cupped his cheek, sighing almost painfully. He had waited too long to feel your touch again. “It’s okay. We both said a lot of things that day. I’m sorry too.”

“I still love you, you know,” Oikawa blurted out. He sounded embarrassed, but little did he know how much they effected you.

It was wrong, you knew that. To be holding your ex, comforting him while your boyfriend was waiting on you. It was wrong but...god it felt so right.

“I know,” You murmured quietly, pressing yourself into him. You could feel the hard outline of his muscles, a feeling that was familiar to you. Your body immediately flushed, subconsciously yearning for more.

“I broke your heart into two,” He said regretfully, his face contorting into pain.

“I know,” But still, you pressed your forehead to his. “But when it healed...it was still beating for you,” You confessed, Oikawa’s arm gently wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” He said breathlessly, and then before you could react his lips were on yours.

It was like...taking a deep breath after being underwater for so long. So refreshing, so vital to keep living that you had no choice but to surrender to it.

You were quick to lean into him, kissing back with as much passion and feriocity as you could. In that short amount of time, somehow your hands found his hair and Oikawa’s fingers began to find their way up your shirt.

“Can I...” He pulled away to tug on your shirt, looking at with you with absolute need.

“Yes,” You couldn’t get the word out fast enough, excitement running through your veins as Oikawa all but ripped it off. “God, yes.”

“So beautiful,” He muttered slightly, smiling when he saw you were wearing his favorite bra. “It’s like you were expecting this,” He said, but you only responded by leaning to kiss him again.

You couldn’t get enough, it had been so long, too long since his mouth had been on yours. Your body had been craving him for such a long time and now that you had him, you were eager to be as close as you could.

“Your turn,” You told him, pulling away to now tug on his shirt. “Off.”

“Yes ma’am,” Oikawa smirked at your request and immediately took it off, throwing it in some random corner. “Is this good?”

“Perfect,” You murmured lovingly, running your hands over his beautiful body.

Oikawa shivered underneath your touch, anticipation racing through his as you traced his abs.

“It’s been too long,” He said, you nodding in agreement. “It’s not enough, I need to-”

“I know,” You already knew what he wanted and you were eager to comply, stepping away to wiggle out of your jeans. Then, you snapped the bralette off which left you standing in only your cute pale panties.

“Mine,” Your back was against the lockers before you could even blink, a possessive glint in Oikawa’s eyes as he eyed your almost naked body.

“It’s always been yours,” You reminded him, before pulling him down in another kiss. This was one was messier, your desire for one another evident as your tongues danced with each other. Oikawa was pressing so hard against you that you could feel his hard on through his shorts, smirking when he moaned as you grinded against him.

“I need those off,” You ordered, your core beginning to trob at the anticipation. Oikawa was the same, wanting nothing more than to finally be inside of you again. He pulled down his shorts like it was nothing, and then he yanked at your panties, feeling them to be soaked.

“Someone’s excited,” He chuckled, and you moaned as he stoked over your clothed pussy.

“Off,” You whimpered, not being able to stand it anymore. It was unbearable- he was right there, so why wasn’t he buried inside of you?

“Yes ma’am,” Once again, he gave you what you wanted and then shed his boxers, his erection springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight of his pretty cock, standing all hard because of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You admitted as Oikawa pulled your panties down. “I need-”

“I got you,” He promised, finally sliding off the material and then pressing you against the lockers once more. He bent down to hook his arms underneath your thighs, automatically bringing your pussy to hover right over his tip.

He was beyond eager, something you’d never seen in Oikawa before. Usually, he could tease you for hours but this time was different.

“Do you want me to...you want me to prep you first?” He offered like a true gentleman, but you could tell it was killing him to not be inside of you already.

“N-No,” You declined as his cock rubbed over your wet folds. “Not today- next time-”

“Next time,” Oikawa promised, before capturing you into a kiss and slowly sinking himself in.

The stretch was beautiful, you couldn’t help but whimper as your pussy finally became full after months. And from Oikawa no less, it felt like a perfect fit as he gripped you tightly and buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the sensation, your pussy sucking him in. There was something so gratifying, so beautiful about being inside of you again and being able to feel all of you.

It didn’t matter if you were still taking birth control or not. Oikawa was determined to cum inside of you, he was determined to fill you to the brink.

“Move,” You whimpered in his arms, the feeling of his cock pushing past your tight ring of muscles painful, but also reliving. This is what you wanted, you wanted this feeling of him. And you wanted him faster.

“O-Okay,” Oikawa gave you what you wanted and bucked his hips into you, moaning at how tight you felt. You always squeezed him just right, but it seemed like today your walls were determined to milk him dry. Not that he minded of course, but he had to squeeze his eyes shut and focus so that he wouldn’t fill you up right then and there.

“T-Tooru...” Your broken moans only encouraged him to go faster, lockers behind you shaking as he pounded you good. Thank god he was strong- he had no trouble holding you up as he drilled into you over and over again.

“God you’re so fucking tight,” Oikawa moaned and nuzzled himself into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

You knew he was going to mark you up, stake his claim to any man that came near you. That included Ragnar but you no longer cared, the feeling of him abusing your cervix washing out anything else.

“Oh god,” You gasped, snapping your eyes open as Oikawa angled his hips to hit just the right spot. That spot that made you go absolutely wild, crying out his name like a prayer as you held on for dear life.

“Oikawa!”

“That’s right baby,” He pulled away from your neck and grunted, looking straight into your eyes as he abused it over and over again. “Let them know who you’ve always belonged to- let them know that I’m the first and only man that’s ever touched this little pussy!”

“I-” You threw your head back as stars began to cloud your vision, “Y-You’re the only one, baby. It’s always you. It’ll always be you,” You cried out, a tear slipping down your face from sheer pleasure.

“I know,” Oikawa kissed your cheeks and then you could feel his thrusts getting sloppy- he was close.

As both of your orgasms came close he made sure to take one hand from under your thighs and then used his fingers to rub your clit. Once again, you marveled this mans strength because he managed to hold you up with one hand while simultaneously pleasuring you at the same time.

“B-Baby...” You could feel the knot in your stomach about to unravel, and you held onto Oikawa as euphoria washed over you. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Let it go, sweetheart,” Oikawa moaned as his own movement stiffened, and then you feel his warm cum paint your walls.

With one last cry, you clenched around him and let it go, yelling out his name so loud there was no way somebody couldn’t hear you, and Oikawa secretly wished it was Ragnar.

A feeling of smugness mixed in with the pleasure as he emptyed himself inside of you, knowing that nobody else had ever had you like this before.

You were full of him, of his cum, and his cock was the only that’s ever had the pleasure to breed you.

He filled your womb like it was nothing and once you both came down, you were a shaking and crying mess against him.

“I love you, Oikawa Tooru,” You mumbled against his lips as he kissed you messily.

“I love you too, Y/N L/N,” He said honestly, giving one last trust before pulling out of you.

Oikawa let go of your legs but he was there to quickly hold your trembling body, your legs unstable. You looked up at him with eyes filled with pure love and admiration and god, Oikawa thinks you’ve never looked prettier with tear stains on your cheeks and with your pussy leaking with his cum.

“Does this mean-” Ever the bold one, he dared to ask, “Does this mean you’re coming home with me?”

“Y-Yes,” You stuttered out slightly, your chest tightening at the prospect of leaving Ragnar but not because you loved him, but because you felt guilty. “What am I gonna...what am I gonna say?” You wondered, but Oikawa already had that planned.

“Leave that to me,” He promised, bending down to pick up your phone. You watched him hesitantly as he unlocked it, smirking when he realized you didn’t even have his picture on your home screen.

“What are you doing?” You asked slightly panicked as he opened up Snapchat.

“This,” You gasped as Oikawa was suddenly inside of you again, your pussy struggling to take him after what just happened. You didn’t even have to think as you held onto his biceps tightly, Oikawa beginning to thrust again.

“Think twice before you take something that’s mine,” You heard him growl, and then he was sliding out, sending the video straight to Ragnar.

“Did you just-”

“He needed to know his place,” Oikawa said casually, scooping you into his arms again. “He may have beat me today, but he lost the most incredible girl he could have ever had.”

“Did you seriously just do that?” You were still floored, struggling to wrap your brain around it. I mean you knew Oikawa was petty but this-?

“Did you expect anything else, my dove?” He chuckled.

You sighed. “Honestly...no. No I didn’t,” You found yourself grinning at him just as your phone pinged, blowing up with texts and snaps from Ragnar.

“Well, I guess that’s our cue,” Oikawa laughed, opening a snap and sending back a selfie. “Come on- you can delete all of his stuff on the bus.”

“You’re...you’re unbelievable,” You told him with wide-eyes, your phone pinging again.

“I know,” Oikawa smiles, “But I have you back either way.”

#oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #tooru oikawa #oikawa tōru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa torū #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru smut #tooru oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #spicytea.txt

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satoruseme · 4 years ago

Text

suck it (s)

author: frogfits

pairing: dom!kaminari, sub!reader

genre: smut

warnings: dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking

word count: 1.8k

description: you get a little too crazy with your sucker

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Grateful to finally be back home from your doctor's appointment that you have been dreading all week, you flopped back onto the couch beside your boyfriend Denki, who was currently working on an assignment for his film class he was taking this semester.

College was something that Denki never thought he would do. He had just planned to move in with you after high school and work while you attended your classes and fulfilled your dream.

However, you had come home one evening to see Denki hovering over a piece of paper, grinning ear to ear. He had applied to your university during your sophomore year and been accepted, and now he was in the middle of his sophomore year.

He seemed to be enjoying it and doing okay so far. He liked having something to look forward to.

“Hi, baby.” He said, sending you a quick smile before getting right back to work on his assignment.

“Hi, whatcha working on?” You asked, leaning your head to rest on his arm as you glanced at his laptop screen to see what they were having him do now.

“Just a film analysis. It’s over Casablanca.” He explained, adding emphasis on Casablanca. It was obviously a boring movie.

“Mmm, sounds boring!” You replied, placing a kiss to his arm before sitting up, “Oh my gosh!”

Denki was taken aback by your sudden outburst, sending you a worried look.

“Sorry, I just remembered the doctor gave me a sucker!” You half yelled, jumping up to grab your bag you had left by the door, scrounging around it to find your sucker.

“Where the fuck did you go, a pediatrician?” Denki asked, laughing to himself.

“Haha very funny.” You said, digging through your bag, trying to find where you put the damn thing.

Once obtained, you flopped down into your spot next to Denki, pulling out your phone to scroll through twitter as you enjoyed your special treat.

You sucked on the lollipop for about a minute, paying no mind to your surroundings as you continued to scroll.

Denki, however, could no longer focus on his assignment spread out in front of him as he could hear your ministrations you were currently making on your sucker.

He tried to keep his gaze focused on his laptop as he listened to the sucking noise that you were making only about a foot away from him.

He glanced over at you and almost moaned at the sight of your lips softly placed around the sucker, his mind going blank as he thought about how your lips looked similar around the tip of his dick.

He loved when you took him so well in between your pretty lips. He shook his head and looked back at his screen, shuffling in his seat to adjust the fit of his pants that his thoughts had created.

“Kaminari, are you okay?” You asked, noticing his sudden inability to stay still. When you looked over, he was still on the same sentence that he was on the last time you looked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” He refused to look back at you, “You’re just really not going to let me focus with that sucker, huh?” He finished, typing a couple words onto the document.

You smirked, a very good idea coming into your mind, “Oh, this silly little thing? C’mon, baby, I know it takes more than a little sucker to turn you on.”

He actually did a pretty good job at keeping his focus on the screen as you dramatized the way you licked and sucked on the sucker.

“Let’s play a game.” You suggested, turning toward him and folding your legs over your lap, sitting criss cross as you pulled the sucker out of your mouth with a “pop” noise.

A shiver went through Denki at the pop noise. You knew that noise drove him insane, so you made sure to exaggerate it.

“Y/n, I really need to get this done, it’s due tonight.” He explained, his eyes completely fixated on your mouth.

“Hm. Well that’s a shame, this sucker is almost gone and my mouth will have nothing to do.” You pouted, running the sucker down your tongue while maintaining direct eye contact with Denki. You were just trying to be the biggest brat you could possibly be, and it was working.

Denki stared expressionless for a moment before calmly closing his laptop and placing it beside him. He faced you before taking the sucker out of your mouth and placing it in his mouth, standing from his spot and grabbing your hand.

He dragged you up from your spot and quickly through the house toward your bedroom.

“Denki, what are y-”

“Shut up.” He cut you off, twisting the doorknob and throwing the door open before pulling you roughly inside, shutting the door behind him.

He turned to face you as you stood there wide eyed, not completely sure what to do. Denki was the dominant one majority of the time in your relationship, so you were just used to doing what he told you to do. This was mainly the reason he didn’t like your little stunt you just pulled in the living room.

“Knees.” Was all he said as he started undoing his belt, sliding it out of the loops and throwing it on the floor.

You quickly dropped down to your knees in excitement as he approached you, now unzipping his jeans.

He stopped in front of you and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You wanted something to do with that pretty little mouth of yours. So take it, baby.” Denki still had the sucker in his mouth you noticed, which made this that much hotter than it already was.

You felt yourself getting soaked just by Denki’s words. He knew how much you loved dirty talk and being told what to do in the bedroom.

You placed your hand over the bulge in his pants and began running your hand over it, earning a small grunt from Denki as he intertwined his fingers in the back of your hair, roughly pulling it backwards to make you look up at him again.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough teasing today?” He asked, “If I were you, I’d be a good little girl and do what I was told.”

With that, you let out a moan at the feeling of him roughly pulling your hair and pulled down his boxers the rest of the way, quickly wrapping your hand around the base of him.

He let out a loud groan, tipping his head back as you took the tip of him into your mouth. He was still tugging the back of your hair as you moved your head back and forth over the length of his dick.

“Slower, baby,” He began, using his fistful of your hair to slow down your motions, pulling all the way out of your mouth, watching as the string of spit that connected your lips to his dick dripped down your chin. He could’ve came just at the sight, “Fuck, you’ll make me cum so fast.”

Without warning, he slammed his cock into the back of your throat, causing you to choke around the tip of him, earning a strangled groan from deep in his chest as his hips involuntarily jerked.

You took him out of your mouth and wrapped your hand around the base of him, focusing on running your tongue up the underside of his dick before wrapping your lips around him once again. His dick was so big and swollen that you could feel every vein run along your tongue as you continued.

You sucked on only the tip for a moment before pulling off of him with a pop noise before saying, “You can fuck my face if you want.”

He was already getting super close, and if you kept talking this way, he was going to blow his load sooner rather than later.

He moaned, now grabbing the back of your head with both of his hands, “Open up wide, princess.”

You opened your mouth back up for him as he once again slammed his cock into the back of your throat, before pulling back out to do it again. He did this a few more times, his grip on your hair tightening, causing you to release a moan around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He whined, picking up his pace a little more, “Do that again.”

You moaned around him again as he looked down at you. You looked so sexy with the tears and mascara dripping down your face as you looked up at him, spit gliding down your chin.

“Fuck, baby you’re doing so good for me, you take me so well.” He let a deep groan leave his chest.

You squeezed your legs together at his words, feeling your panties getting ruined by the second.

You could tell he was close by the way his stomach was convulsing in front of your eyes as his dick began to twitch in your mouth. His thrusts became sloppier as he fucked your lips with only the tip of his cock, his breathing becoming even more shallow.

“I-I’m gonna,” He couldn’t even get his words out as he let out a bunch of short, whiny moans.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit-” Was the only warning you got before his hips stilled and he came inside of your mouth. You felt his cum run down your tongue and throat, becoming even more turned on by his grunts and moans.

He pulled out and grabbed your chin, closing your mouth.

“Swallow it all, baby.” He admired the way you looked down on your knees for him, ready to take anything he gave you.

You swallowed everything he had left in your mouth, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out afterwards to show him.

“Good girl.” He said, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

He didn’t break eye contact with you and he zipped his pants up, slowly backing out of the room.

“W-“ You started, but were immediately cut off.

“Gotta finish my analysis,” he smirked, “maybe next time you’ll learn not to be such a tease. You’ll have to get yourself off for now.”

He winked and walked out of the room, popping his head back in to add, “You’ll still regret that later though. I’m not done with you, baby.”

He quickly left the room again, leaving you to clean yourself up, and letting your mind wander to the events that “later” would entail.

masterlist

#denki #denki x reader #denki kaminari #denki x female reader #bnha denki #katsuki bakugou x reader #denki kaminari x reader #bakugou angst #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo headcanons #mha bakugou #mha #bakugou x reader #denki smut #denki headcanons #denki fluff #denki fanart

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knivesareout · 4 years ago

Text

take on the world - chapter one

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, bad jokes, flirting idiots and Tom doesn’t exist.

Summary: A whirlwind romance takes you by surprise when Frankie rescues you.

A/N: Well, here is the beginning of what is going to be a BEAST of a fic. There will probably be around 8-10 chapters in total and I’m already working on the next one (aka where the smut is). I will warn you all that this is going to deal with some heavy subject matter as we go along but I’ll put up proper warnings when they come. I hope you all enjoy and you can read it on AO3 here.

INSPO TAG | CHAPTER TWO

___________

There was a special place in hell for people who set their friends up on blind dates.

This wasn’t your first, or even your fifth, blind date in the last year that you’d agreed to go on to appease a happily married friend. This time it was Jessica’s husband’s co-worker who she’d shown you a picture of and you had wearily agreed, nodding as she told you how great he was.

He was in fact, not great, as he was now 30 minutes late and counting despite the numerous texts you’d sent him.

Thankfully the bar you were currently at was only a quick 10 minute walk from your apartment, a small miracle you were glad for. Surely you could stumble back the couple of blocks to your place if you decided to drown your sorrows in shots of tequila, a couple beers, and maybe a fruity drink or two if you were feeling spendy or particularly sad.

The bar was loud and, of course, overly crowded. It was a Saturday night after all.

Most tvs around the room were playing various baseball games at top volume with the season having only started a couple weeks prior. It wasn’t your favorite sport but you knew enough to keep up, eyes fixated on the Red Sox game just to the left of you.

“Need a refill?”

A cough sounds in your ear and you turn, realizing the question was meant for you. The man who’s taken up residence on the bar stool next to you is waiting for an answer, a distressed ball cap tugged low over his face and you wish you could see him better.

“Oh,” you laugh awkwardly, glancing down at the empty pint glass and back up again. When did you finish that? “Yeah, I mean. I need one.”

The man just nods, motioning the bartender over and he wordlessly clears your glass and sets a new one in front of you as well as one in front of the man next to you.

Muttering a quiet thanks to the bartender, you turn to the man in the cap and smile. “Thanks. Didn’t even realize I’d gone through it so fast.”

The man nods with a shrug of his shoulders, a slight smile on his face. “No worries. You looked like you were sucked into the game and figured I could help. I’m Frankie, by the way.”

Giving him your name, you reach a hand for him to shake- which he does. Rough, calloused hands envelope yours in a tight squeeze before he drops them with a cough.

You realize he must’ve been watching you before, if he knew you were with an empty cup.

Normally that was something you would find creepy because you were clearly alone, or at the very least weird but for some reason it’s endearing on this guy. Frankie. Out of the corner of your eye, you try to take in his features without being obvious, his attention now turned to the same game you’d been watching only moments before.

Dark hair curls outside of his baseball cap, a dimple embedded into his cheek on the right as he smiles. Patchy facial hair covers his jawline, bits of grey catching the light as he tilts his head back to take a swig of his beer and you wonder how old he is. At first you would’ve pegged him around your age, but now getting a somewhat better look he might have several years on you.

“Were you waiting on someone?” He asks, turning to you with his voice raised. A group of men are shouting in the back of the bar near the pool table and you wince.

You nod, downing half of your beer and swiping at your mouth. “Yeah. Blind date. I should know better but I can’t tell people no and he was cute.”

Frankie just laughs at your honesty, “So he just didn’t show?”

“Yep. Never had one that just didn’t show up. Figured I might as well get drunk to commemorate the occasion. Or commiserate. Either one.” You bring your glass up to his and cheers, shaking your head incredulously.

“His loss.”

You turn to Frankie with a raised brow, lowering your glass to watch him slowly check you out. You feel hot all over and clear your throat, teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

“What about you then? Here alone or did you ditch someone?”

Frankie presses a hand to his heart, fake wounded at your jab. “You already think so little of me? I was here with friends but they bailed on me,” he explains. “Saw you by yourself and thought we could both use the company.”

His answer puts you more at ease and you finish off your second beer of the night.

“So, figure I gotta ask. How old are you?” It really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but if things are heading in the direction you hope they are, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable if you’re too young.

He seems startled by your question, like it’d never occurred to him to ask and he falters before answering. Did it make him uncomfortable?

“You know,” Frankie starts with a chuckle. “Normally, I’d be offended but I’m not. ‘M 42.”

Nodding, you blow out a breath that you didn’t realize you’d be holding. “Newly 30,” you tell him, bringing your refilled drink up to click against his own.

The age reveal doesn’t seem to bother him, at least from what you can tell. You’d never cursed your age before until now, hoping it hadn’t put him off.

You turn on the barstool to face Frankie, hoping to break the tension.

“So I have just one question for you, Frankie.”

He nods, turning to face you and waiting for you to continue.

You hold up a finger and place it on his jaw near his mouth, the one spot not filled up by wiry grey and black hair. His eyes are wide at your touch and he’s tense.

It was something you’d noticed right away when he sat next to you, your attention drawn to it for whatever reason. His terribly patchy facial hair was endearing.

“Why is this the perfect place for a kiss?”

The way Frankie looks when he laughs makes your heart ache in the best way. He tosses his head back, mouth wide as he tries to contain his laughter. His dark eyes crinkle, nose scrunched up at your blunt question and you retract your hand, satisfied with his response.

“How much have you had to drink?” He manages to get out between wheezing while he catches his breath.

“Couple shots of tequila while I stupidly waited. Two beers now, thanks to you,” you nod at the empty glass. “I might be drunk? It’s hard to tell, honestly. I think I’m fine.”

“So you’re just normally like this?” Frankie laughs, tilting his head. His fingers drum on the side of his almost empty pint glass, something you wonder is a nervous tick.

You push your empty glass away, hoping it’ll get the bartender’s attention and it does. Ordering Frankie another beer and a vodka cranberry for you, you turn back to him. “Guess so. If it’s too much though, I can pretend you never came over here and finish the game by myself.”

“Not what I meant,” he’s quick to tell you. “Just wanted to know what I’m getting myself into is all.”

Silently your lips tick up in a smirk and you start on your drink, turning your attention back to the game.

Over the next hour, you get to know Frankie and vice versa. He’s ex-Army; out for the last couple of years and he’s slowly getting back into the real world. Explains how he doesn’t have any family in North Carolina but all of his buddies live here, so he moved.

Frankie’s a helicopter pilot, giving city flyover tours to people coming in from out of town. He doesn’t love it but he loves flying so it’s enough for him, he tells you. You can see it in his eyes how passionate he is about flying and it makes you grin.

In turn, he asks about you. Normally you wouldn’t give up so much information about yourself to someone you don’t know all that well but Frankie has slowly started to feel like anything but and you feel guilty letting him give you so much only to get nothing in return- so you tell him. Maybe too much. About how your job working at a law firm is the most boring thing, especially when you had no interest in law. Which in turn sparks up his question- what do you want to do? That ends up setting you off on a tangent about your love of photography but how hard the industry is to break into to do it professionally or at the least get paid for it.

“Here, hang on.” You tell him, sliding your phone out of your back pocket and pulling up your Instagram. Social media was, normally, the bane of your existence but you used the app for your photos and nothing else, you tell him. He nods like he understands, telling you he isn’t much better technology wise.

Frankie’s quiet as he scrolls through your feed. He’s slow about it too, clicking on a few to see them bigger, and you bite your lip in anticipation at what he might be thinking. It’s nerve wracking to show anyone your passion and you manage to finish off your drink while he’s still scrolling, waving off the bartender as he asks if you want another.

“You’re fucking talented as shit, you know that?”

His response catches you off guard and you can instantly feel yourself getting warm at his compliment. It feels different, coming from him. A stranger who’s slowly becoming something more.

“You’ll have to let me take your picture some day,” you shoot back, kicking your dangling foot against his.

“You don’t have pictures of people on there though,” he’s quick to point out, handing you back your phone.

“Well no, but that doesn’t mean I don’t. It’s hard convincing people to hike with me is all.” Nature photography was your niche but you could already envision photographing a portrait of Frankie on a mountain with the sun illuminated behind him.

Frankie finishes off his beer and sighs loudly, turning to you with his brows raised. “Well, we’ll have to plan something then won’t we?”

You’d known that was coming and still, your stomach fills with butterflies as he all but asks you out. To see you again beyond this dark, crowded bar that smells like smoke and sweat.

“Definitely.”

Frankie asks if he can walk you home once the bar tab has been paid an hour later- he’s even covered yours too, in apology of your ruined date and unintentionally crashing your plan to wallow in self-pity afterwards.

“I’m just a couple blocks down,” you tell him, pulling your jacket tighter around your shoulders to combat the cool, spring breeze.

“No worries. Can’t complain about getting to spend a little more time with you,” he says cooly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

The line is smooth and cheesy but it still puts a smile on your face, which you’re sure was its intended effect.

You chuckle, turning to him so he can see the roll of your eyes. “Smooth, Casanova.”

Frankie puts his hands out in front of him in defense, scoffing at your jab.

“Cut me some slack, alright. Haven’t even dated a woman in years, let alone spent hours interrupted and talking with one,” he explains, knocking his shoulder with yours.

The little touch is something weirdly intimate and you cough, looking at him with a skeptical eye.

“I find that hard to believe, Frankie,” you chuckle, “You’re a good looking guy. Can even hold a decent conversation. No dates? Really?”

He shakes his head, shrugging. “Wasn’t in the right headspace for it. And now that I am, I just so happen to meet you and who knows. Was it fate?”

You spot the teasing tone of his voice immediately and you shove him lightly as you start to approach your apartment building. “You’re an ass,” you tell him, giggling as you try and pull your keys from your pocket, fingers fumbling and they drop to the ground with a clang.

You both reach down at the same time, heads knocking together and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. Laughing so much your chest aches with it and you can’t breathe, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and you glance over and Frankie’s no better, clutching his stomach as you both sit on the ground around your fallen keys.

“We’re a fucking mess,” you manage to get out between left over laughter and catching your breath.

Frankie lets out a loud breath, trying to calm himself and he nods in agreement. Picking up the keys, he hands them to you and stands, offering you a hand that you gladly take and try to steady yourself once you’re safely back on your feet.

“You alright?” He asks, running his hands over your hair and brushing at the crown of your head. As if he’s inspecting you for any injuries and you hold your breath.

The best you can manage is a nod, eyes flicking to meet his and you search them for any sign that he’s feeling exactly what you are.

He is. Expressive brown eyes that tell you everything you need to know.

Frankie sighs, pulling his hands back from your face and groans. Kicking at the pavement and mumbling quietly to himself.

Has the moment passed? Did you not react how he was expecting?

Turning back to you, he gives you a self-deprecating smile. “We’re drunk,” he explains. His tone is apologetic and you wonder why he’s saying the words if he feels bad about them in the first place.

“Maybe a little,” you agree. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t had, what I’m sure is, a much better date than I would’ve if that guy had shown up.”

You can tell your words mean something to him. It’s like he’s got this loose energy that he doesn’t know what to do with. Like he wants to shout and scream and run down the street. It makes you want to know more about him- what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling.

Bouncing on his toes, Frankie hurriedly pulls out his phone from his front pocket and hands it to you. “I wanna see you again. Put your number in there?”

The phone is old. Flip-phone old and you laugh as you figure out how to program your number in there, adding your name along with a smiley face at the end before handing it back over to him.

“I had a really great time tonight, Frankie,” you promise him, fiddling with your keys. “Thank you for saving me from what was probably going to be a terrible night.”

“Me too,” he agrees, pursing his lips.

It’s like he’s deciding his next move and it catches you off guard when he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

Once there’s a fair amount of distance between you, Frankie heads down the sidewalk and waves. “I’ll call you,” he tells you, calling over his shoulder.

“You better,” you yell back.

Your grin is huge and you’re sure he can see it, even as he continues to walk backwards, watching you, and he disappears into the night.

---

Frankie calls the next day.

Phone numbers that weren’t saved in your address book were usually sent straight to voicemail but there was a nagging feeling deep in your gut to just answer it so you move to the edge of the sidewalk and out of the crowd and pick up.

“Hello?”

You catch a sigh and Frankie’s voice sounds over the speaker, bringing a smile to your face instantly. “Hey, it’s uh. Frankie. From the bar last night?”

Laughing a little, you nod to yourself. “Yeah. I remember you. Almost knocked me out when we bumped heads trying to pick up my keys.”

“Oh good,” he sounds relieved and you glance around as you wait for him to speak again, hoping the conversation was more than just chit-chat. “I know we just saw each other yesterday but I was wondering if I could see you again. Tonight maybe? If you don’t have plans. It’s fine if you do, I just thought I’d ask.”

He’s rushing through his words and you can tell instantly that he’s had to psych himself up to call you from his nervous tone through the receiver.

You don’t have plans and you’re more than eager to see Frankie again. Wondering if last night was a fluke and hoping that it wasn’t. Relationships weren’t your forte but maybe this was the exceptiontion. He was the exception.

“Yeah, I’d really like that Frankie. Just wanna meet me outside of my building around 7?” You chew on your lip nervously.

“Yeah,” he tells you. “That- that would be great. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you chuckle. “Bye Frankie.”

“Bye.”

Suddenly thankful that you were done running your errands for the day, you headed back home with a grin on your face that didn’t seem like it wanted to leave. Cheeks aching, you wondered what and if he had anything planned.

It had been too long since you’d gone on any sort of date. A real date; something planned and thought out unlike the blind dates you were used to. Frankie didn’t seem the type for a typical dinner and a movie, and something about that idea had you even more excited to see him. Everything about the situation with him was unpredictable: the chance meeting at the bar, to the walk home where you laughed harder than you could remember. There was clearly something there between the two of you and it was exhilarating.

The rest of your day was spent cleaning and daydreaming about the night you might have with Frankie. You wondered if this was how it was supposed to feel when you liked someone. The concept was foreign to you, your relationship history basically nonexistent. Was it possible that he was just as nervous as you were?

As 7pm rolled around, a text sounded over your phone and you leaned over on the counter to see Frankie telling you he was outside. Grabbing a light coat on your way out, you took a deep breath and locked the door behind you. No turning back now.

Frankie was dressed similarly to last night. Jeans, a t-shirt and a tan jacket that looked like it’d seen better days. His hat was missing and his hair looked soft, the ends curling around his ears. You greeted him with a smile as you walked out of your building and he nodded, rocking back on his feet.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” He asks, nodding his head as you both started to walk left down the sidewalk. “The fact that we met last night and we’re seeing each other again?”

You chuckled, “It’s weird in the sense that I’ve never done this before. Any of it. But no, to answer your question. I wanted to see you again and I am, so.” Shrugging, you turn to listen to him as you both continue to walk, keeping to the side.

“Yeah, me too. I mean, I’ve met people in bars. Women. But it’s usually a one night kind of thing-,” Frankie stops himself and groans, running a hand down his face in embarrassment. “That sounds bad. Fuck.”

“Ain’t no shame in the game, Frankie. I’m not here to judge you,” you promise, pausing as you wait for the crosswalk sign to turn white so you can cross the street. “Where are we going, by the way?”

Frankie waits to answer until you’re both safely across the street and heading further into downtown, the crowds getting thicker and you push yourself against his side so as not to lose him. His arm finds its way across your shoulders to keep you close and he answers, leaning his head down closer to your ear. “There’s this bar and arcade thing down a couple more blocks that I figured we could spend some time at. Maybe head to the park after that and walk around. See where the night takes us?”

It’s easy to tell he hasn’t quite planned this out and something about that makes your heart race. He really had just wanted to see you, planning this as he goes only so you can spend more time together.

“The park can get a little murder-like late at night,” you point out with a laugh,

“That’s true. Well, we can always just see where the night takes us after we play a couple of games then if that’s alright?”

“That’s the part where you’re supposed to tell me you’ll protect me,” you poke a finger into his side and laugh. “But yeah of course, Frankie. Whatever you wanna do,” you reassure him. “I’m just along for the ride.”

The bar slash arcade was… something. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t what you walked into. The building was packed to the brim; loud noises, slots and different game noises sounding from every corner, and a small bar was tucked in the left corner with a tv playing what looked like The Shining above it.

“Have you been here before?” You raise your voice, balancing yourself on his shoulder to get closer to his ear.

He nods shouting back, “Yeah, once. Came with a couple of buddies of mine. They’ve got some cool retro games in the back that we used to play as a kid. Everyone loves air hockey too, right?”

You can see the air hockey table he’s referring to. The black light makes everything under the table glow and it reminds you of the arcades off of food courts that most malls used to have. The skeptical feeling you had when walking in seems to fade away and suddenly you’re excited, wondering why you hadn’t been here before when it was so close to your apartment to begin with.

“Once the table clears, I wanna play,” you say, tugging Frankie towards the back where you see a racing game that looks familiar.

Frankie exchanges a few bills for tokens while you hold the two racing games and once he’s slid in the appropriate amount, it’s immediately turned into a competition.

As the screen starts to countdown to your race, you turn to him quickly with a proposition. “If I win, you buy me a beer.”

“I was gonna buy you one anyway,” he tells you, shaking his head as if he’d do anything less. “But alright. If I win, you have to give me a kiss right here.”

He annoyingly points to the empty spot on his jaw where his facial hair didn’t seem to grow, that you had drunkenly pointed out the night before, and you can’t help the loud bark of laughter that escapes your lips as you quickly nod. “Deal.”

You’re almost tempted to lose once the race starts, just so you can kiss him there. But deep in your gut you feel like there’ll be plenty of opportunities to kiss him there in the future so you don’t hold back. The routes feel familiar as you and Frankie virtually drive through them and you’re sure you’ve played this game before, years ago.

As you both reach the last lap and the finish line, you just barely win and pump your fists as you cross. The screen declares you the winner in big font, a trophy spinning in circles and you turn to Frankie. “So, about that beer.”

You two end up at the bar for a little over an hour. The barstools surrounding the area are a hot commodity and once you and Frankie are sat down, you’re reluctant to give them up, especially with the bartender keeping your drinks filled without having to ask.

Frankie tells you about his friends. Benny, Will, and Santiago. How they’ve kept him going since returning back to civilian life. He says they’re all one big support group to each other, knowing that even if it feels like there’s no one you could count on, one of them is always around. There’s a tightness to his voice when he talks about them, like he can’t believe his luck that he has such supportive friends. The clear despair on his face has your chest aching, and you squeeze his hand in comfort.

It makes you yearn for a friendship like that. Most of your friends are married and it’s harder to relate to them when you’re single and living in the city while they’re still living in your hometown with a couple of kids. You tell Frankie as much and he sympathizes and points out that you have at least one friend in the city now, shaking off the emotions of such a heavy conversation.

“Looks like the air hockey table is free,” you nod, seeing the table free for the first time that night.

Frankie nods, standing up to grab his wallet. “You grab the table, I’m gonna close out the tab.”

You quickly walk over, grabbing the two handles and knock a few tokens into the machine when the lime green puck pops out. Frankie joins you a few seconds later, grabbing his handle and standing opposite you.

“So, what are we competing for this time?”

You think for a moment, “Well, I don’t think I need another drink. What about if I win, you have to cook me dinner sometime this week? Maybe Wednesday?”

Frankie seems taken aback by your suggestion but readily agrees. “I can do that. And if I win, you have to cook me breakfast Thursday morning.”

His offer isn’t lost on you and you toss the puck onto the table with a smirk as the air starts to push it around. “You’re on.”

The match is filled with trash talk as you two play. You even manage to gather a small crowd of people around you, cheering you both on. It’s close. For every point you get, Frankie’s one step behind you. Your wrist is starting to ache and the countdown starts on the side, signaling the end of your game in the next 30 seconds.

“You’re gonna lose, Frankie,” you taunt, scoring another point and he tosses the puck back on the table and shoots it towards you as you block it, sending it back across the table.

Except you lose. By a point.

There are cheers for Frankie and slaps on the back as another couple takes over the table and you both move to the side to watch.

“I can’t say I’m all that mad that I lost,” you tell him honestly, glancing up and locking your eyes with his own deep, brown ones.

“It was kind of a win-win for both of us either way,” he agrees, nudging his arm with yours. “So, another date Wednesday night?”

You nod quickly, “Sounds perfect.”

--- Frankie walks you home a few hours later.

After the arcade, you both grab slices of pizza from a small place down the block and walk around, grease staining your fingers and tongues burnt from being so hungry.

Most people are tucking themselves back into their beds at the late hour, your watch showing it was coming up on 2am as you both approach your building.

“A successful first date, I think,” you turn to him, arms wrapped around yourself as the wind turns cold around you. You sniff as your nose starts to drip, scrunching it up and Frankie laughs.

“I think you’re right,” he agrees, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against chest in a hug.

You savor the warmth as you press your cheek against him, then turn your head. “I should go inside. And you should head home, it’s so fucking late.”

Untangling yourselves, Frankie shoves his hands into his pockets and knocks his arm against yours. “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

Nodding quickly, Frankie shoots you a smile and turns, jogging across the street to where his truck is parked.

It’s like seeing him walk away pushes something inside you, itching to see him just once more and you call out to him quickly before he can get in his truck, “Frankie! Wait! I forgot something!”

He turns to watch you run across the street as he stands in front of the driver’s side door, looking at you curiously once you’re stood in front of him.

“What did you forget?”

“This.” And you lean over to press a kiss to the bare spot along his jaw, the sparse hair around it tickling your lips and you pull away with a grin.

Turning to glance both ways before crossing the street you call behind you, “Goodnight Frankie!”

NEXT CHAPTER

#frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #triple frontier fic #tom doesn't exist lmao #my writing #take on the world

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sweetwritertanya · 4 years ago

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Dressed Up For Halloween (Jungkook)

Summary: You have to work on Halloween and you go dressed as a character your boyfriend likes very much. You are not ready for how worked up he was once you got home.

Warnings: SMUT! There will be: erotic body touching, boob-job, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (be safe out there!), doggy-style, aftercare.

Word Count: 3181

The idea came to you early in the month, when you were working at the coffee shop your boyfriend and his friends always like to come to, being close to their company and discreet enough that they could enter in small groups without being recognized instantly. There was still the one or another who recognized them, but always manageable. As you came with a bunch of drinks that they ordered to their table, you realized they were planning a movie marathon to get them in the Halloween spirit. And amongst all the movies the group discussed about seeing, Jungkook was very fixated on watching one in particular, saying the name over and over until they agreed it was on the list: The Nightmare Before Christmas.

You made a mental note of it, kissed him on the head, to which he scrunched up his nose as cheeks grew pinker, and went back to do your job.

A quick order online, a trip to the shop to buy some fishnet tights and a new pair of black heel boots, and your outfit for this Halloween was all set up. Not only would your boyfriend appreciate it, it was a good choice for you to wear to your work place, since your boss as asked the employees at the coffee to wear a costume on the 31st, as a way to please costumers.

Halloween came around rather quickly and, much to your frustration, Jungkook actually had half of the day off. He was currently on the living room, playing games in the big screen tv. And, of course, you had the evening shift at the coffee shop, thus you wouldn’t be able to stay with him.

So, here you were, in the bedroom, putting on the colorful dress with mismatched patterns, the fishnets tights and the boots, letting your hair down to resemble the character the best it could, some elongating mascara for your eyelashes and a deep red lipstick. Apart from the blueish skin and all the stitches, you actually resembled her quite nicely. If they ever saw the movie, everyone would certainly recognize who you were.

You get out of the bedroom and into the living room, your boyfriend currently with his back to you, headphones on and focused on the busy screen in front of him while you walked behind the couch in the direction of the door.

“I’m leaving, Kookie. See you later tonight, okay?” you say goodbye with a resented voice.

“Hum? Oh, okay, I-” Jungkook takes off his headphones that fall around his neck as he turns to look at you.

You almost miss his reaction while you grab the coat from the closet at the entrance. The way those round bright eyes enlarge so greatly you can see the full ebony iris, a hint of recognition and astonishment behind that sparkle, how his lips fall apart in the tiniest of openings, straight and thick eyebrows raising up in his forehead. His body sits frozen in the couch, only really reacting when he sees you putting on your coat with a shy smile on your lips.

“You, huh…!” he gets up in a jump, letting go of the controller in his hands and coming to stand in front of you, eyes roaming up and down your voluptuous figure. “You’re dressed up as Sally. You dressed up for Halloween.”

“Yeah” you respond, flattered by the way his eyes keep lingering at you in interest. “My boss told us to bring our best outfit to work on the coffee shop. So, I’m going as Sally.”

“It’s so pretty” he murmurs, almost in a daze until he looks back at your eyes and corrects himself. “You look so pretty, Y/N. As always.”

You giggle at his compliment and lean in to give him a long peck on those uneven lips, adoring their warmth of softness against your own.

“Thank you, baby. I’ll be back before eleven at night” you inform as you step backwards and turn to go out the door.

“What, wait!”

Jungkook stops you by getting a hold of your hand, keeping you from opening the main door and instead you stand back in front of him, with raised eyebrows in surprise and confusion. You recognize the look of disappointment in his eyes, a slight pout already taking over his larger lower lips in the cutest of ways.

“You need to go? Like… Like right now? I only just saw you in your costume.”

“Well, I told you I had to work today, Kookie. And, yeah, I’ll admit I chose this costume because I knew you would like it, but that was before I knew I had to work the late shift” you explain.

But he is not really keen on letting you go and it shows when he effortlessly pulls you close by your hand despite your hefty weight, attaching his hands to your waist and back while his face gets hidden at the crook of your neck. His breath hits your skin as he speaks, creating goosebumps before he kisses it.

“I don’t want you to go. I wanna be the Jack to your Sally” he whines.

As he kisses up your neck and across your soft jaw, you struggle to remain focused and responsible, when in reality all you wanted was to ditch your work and stay home with him.

“Baby, I can’t. I need to go now, but I’ll be back. Just wait for me, okay? I’m all yours then” you assure him, sneaking past his arms with heated cheeks and chills down your spine.

“Promise?” he sulks, albeit letting you go as you open the door.

“Promise.”

He would hold you up to that promise.

As soon as you came back through the front door, barely closing it behind you, he jumps out of nowhere to hold you tight against his muscular arms. You yelp at the abruptness of it all, your purse falling out of your hands as his arms wrap around you like bindweeds, his lips regaining their position across the skin of your jaw and neck as if they never left.

“How was your day?” he asks in a whisper between the kisses at your pulse point, as if it was just a normal conversation.

It takes you a few solid seconds for you to get a grip and process what was happening, realizing he asked you a question you had yet to answer.

“It… It was fine, I think. What… what’s happening?” your confusion is more than evident in your voice as you regain your balance by holding on to Jungkook’s delightedly strong arms.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you since you left” he confesses, leaning back just to stare at your face while his cheeks and earlobes glow red. You find it so puzzling, how he could just jump on you like that and then be this shy when actually looking at you. It made your heart flip. “How pretty you looked. How I wished you would’ve stayed. I couldn’t focus, I didn’t even play my game, I was letting my team down so I logged off.”

“It’s… It’s just a cute Sally outfit, Kookie” you say, blinking as you keep your gaze on his, large hands still holding you close by your lower back.

“It just suits you so well. A-And not just your body! Your personality as well. I never realized it until today. You are my own little Sally who treats me as if I was the center of your world and I never got to show how much I thank you for it.”

You bite your bottom lip and tilt your head at him, wondering how a Halloween outfit could remind him of this, of how much you adored him. But you weren’t about to stop him, for sure.

“Well” you shrug, with a warm smile. “Show me, then.”

He giggles and you chuckle back until the sound dies out just a moment before your lips meet, engaging in caresses that have you standing on your feet and tremors run down your back while you lean in to him. He holds you close and tight, his hands roaming your curvaceous body and brushing over every inch they could, from your rolls to your fluffy bits, squeezing and folding.

You are melting into his touch, heart jumping out of your chest, when his tongue flicks at your top lip, requesting your permission. You gladly give him entrance as you open your mouth and allow him access to every single crevice, tongue twinning with yours making your shudder. He tastes like a spicy nectar that sets your whole body on fire, effortlessly doing so and instigating breathless moans from you when his lips close around your tongue and he sucks on it.

You throw your head back in order to breathe and he attacks your neck instead. You don’t even realize it, but he has taken off your coat, leaving you in the costume’s dress, and is slowly guiding you to the couch. Once your bum hits the back of the couch, your hands grasp at the solid item while his hands found themselves just underneath your breasts.

“As much as I love this dress, can I take it off now?” he questions, one hand already travelling around your back searching for the zipper.

“Yes, please” you authorize, breathless.

He unzips the long zipper at your back while you kiss at his beautiful neck, feeling beneath your lips as he swallows and sighs heavily. Once he does it, he brushes the sleeves down your shoulders and arms, the fabric of the dress gathering at your wide stomach. You stand in order to pull it the rest of the way down and Jungkook takes advantage of your distraction to pull his hoodie off his body in an elegant move.

When you throw the dress away, standing now only in your fishnets and black matching underwear, you look back at him to find him shirtless, strong sculptured muscles on display and your fingers twitch and inner muscles of your belly contract at the sight. Subconsciously, you lick your lips while he takes in your feminine shape, the way your body looked so incredibly soft and warm and welcoming.

“I really love your body, so much” he confesses in a breathy whisper. “Especially these.”

Jungkook’s hands attach themselves to the malleable fat of your breasts, cupping them and watching his fingers sinking in to the flesh, adoring the way he could barely hold them in the palm of his hands. Your back arches into his touch without your control and he begins teasing at your puckered peaks, brushing his thumbs on top of them and tweaking them as if tunning an old radio. You moaned and squirmed, this unbelievable tension forming deep down inside.

With hooded eyes, you follow the lines of his abdominal muscles down with your digits, adoring their hardness that contrasted so much with your softness. Reaching the edge of the sweatpants he was wearing, you can’t help but notice the line of his manhood, growing ever more noticeable.

“Let… Let me try something for you, baby” you decide, having an idea.

Taking hold of his wrists and bringing them down, you grab his shoulders and make him spin so he is the one against the back of the couch now. Slowly, you kiss his neck and descend down his heated body, taking in every shaking breath and gasp as you went. Soon you are on your knees, facing the tent that had formed on his pants. Pulling the sweatpants and boxers down to his ankles at the same time, you are met with his engorged and pulsing dick, crown pink and throbbing the more you looked at it.

“W-What are you- Ohh!”

Jungkook’s question is answered even before he finishes it, as you take hold of your breasts yourself and place them on either side of his cock, pressing into him. With curious eyes, you look up at him, only the tip of his cock peaking through your cleavage. He is blushed and buggy-eyed, breathing through his parted lips.

“Feels good?” you ask.

“Y-Yeah. Very much” he assured you.

And so, you continue with this new technique, getting a hold of it as you study his reactions. He liked when you pressed your tits together, smothering his cock in between them, and started to move them up and down repeatedly. The tip that rarely got to disappear into your cleavage seemed left out, so you took it upon yourself to lick at the little crown and, when you felt his legs shudder at that, you even began to suck and take it into your mouth the best you could, tongue swirling around it.

“A-Ahh… Y-Y/N, come here!”

He pulls your body up smoothly by your arms, squishing you into him as he kisses you deep and passionately, tasting himself on your tongue. He swirls you two around and, once more, you are the one against the back of the couch.

“Let me return the favor” he murmurs against your bruised lips.

Falling to his knees, you squeal as he begins leaving deep kisses alongside your tick thighs, hands caressing the sides of them as his head made its way in between them, kissing up the inner part. His fingers hook around the fishnets and the panties you were still wearing, pulling them off swiftly when you lift your rump to help him do so.

His strong hands grab you by the knees and push them apart, revealing your needy core to him. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to delve his head in, mouth coming in contact with your folds and tongue delving in between them, flicking the drenching silky-smooth flesh. Your body jolts at that first touch and you cry out, one hand of yours clawing at the couch while the other grasps at the fluffy hair on top of head. He starts moving his tongue, up and down your slit, swirling it around your hole and you can’t help it, you are pushing him in, wanting more and more. Your pussy is clenching under the amount of unbelievable tension that has formed, as if it was a giant knot that continuously has its strings being pulled, bound to crumble eventually.

Jungkook’s hands keep your thighs steady as they struggle to not suffocate him, your body resisting the urge to close them around his head. He keeps slurping on your juices and moving his face around in the most infuriatingly pleasurable way, making you moan and whimper out loud, his nose rubbing at that incredibly sensitive button every time he moved.

Your whole body felt like it was catching fire and you could feel your insides clenching around nothing as he tirelessly persisted. You wanted – no, you needed – more.

“Kook…! Jungkook, stop” you say, and he leans back to look up at you, dark blown-out eyes and red lips coated in your essence. “I want you, now, Jungkook.”

He smiles as he gets up, almost smugly, before asking you to turn around with a twist of his wrist. You place your forearms on the couch’s back to brace yourself and present your ass up to him, wiggling it as your legs kept creating some friction for your throbbing center. You mewl as Jungkook’s body bends over yours, his torso warming up your bare back and arms wrapped around your protruding stomach while his length rubbed against your slit.

“Ready?” he asks before kissing at the back of your shoulder.

“Yeah” you respond.

He enters you then, slowly inch by inch, as if savoring every moment, every feeling of your walls stretching out for him as he delved a bit deeper. When he reached balls deep, a tremor cursed through your body as his tip was placed against your cervix, the most stirring feeling cursing through your body and short-circuiting your brain.

You can tell he is trying to take it slow, kissing down your back as his hips thrusted back and forth in strong and deep movements, but not quick. It was still enough to have you gasping at every time he reached deep, the tension building leisurely. But once he finished kissing the skin of your back, standing back up and placing his hands on your wide hips, watching your skin jiggle every time he plunged into your tight pussy, the rhythm accelerated. And your hips started to move too, meeting him halfway as you raced to your end too.

“Ahh… Faster, Jungkook! Fast, baby, faster” you beg in a whiny voice, backing your hips up into his.

His answer, rather than words, ends up being a grunt and his subsiding actions. Jungkook leans back down above your chest only for his hands to come and squeeze at your hanging tits, while his hips snapped faster and faster against yours, his twitching shaft dragging against your walls persistently and stimulating all the right spots as it did so.

The sounds are lewd to say the least, your breathless moans and his grinding groans, the rapid sound of skin against skin and the squelching, revealing exactly how immensely drenched you were for him. Your back arches and you lean your head against the couch as you feel the edge approaching with each push of his cock against your cervix, crown finding that particular spot that made you an absolute mess.

Jungkook pinches and rubs at your nipples as he struggles to keep the human-defying quick thrusts, only to succumb to his own need and release his hot seed in several pumps into your core once he felt your walls collapsing impossibly tight around his cock, sucking him dry.

Both of you reach your climaxes at the same exact time, you crying out his name while he bit down on your shoulder and squeezed your tits so tightly you had to check the next day if he left marks. You felt his warm thick essence fill your womb as your body shook with the waves of absolute bliss crashing down on you. It took you both a while to regain control over your bodies.

Jungkook slips out and you hear him running out into the kitchen. You turn around in time to see him come back with a towel in his hand, a guilty expression on his bashful face.

“Sorry. Here, to clean up.”

He hands you the towel and you gently clean the juices running down your legs and the few drops already on the floor.

“No worries, I had every intention of taking a shower once I got home, anyway” you appease him.

Jungkook brings you in for a hug and kisses your temple before starting to gather the clothes thrown on the floor.

“Can I join?”

You chuckle.

“Of course.”

It was in the middle of a very relaxing shower that you hear him gasping loudly and, worried, you look back at him.

“What is it?”

“Oh no… After today, there is no way I can see The Nightmare Before Christmas with the guys ever again!”

#halloween special #13 stories for halloween #bts x chubby reader #bts #jungkook #chubby reader #plus size reader #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jungkook smut #kpop plus size #kpop chubby reader #kpop smut #smut

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adelindschade · 3 years ago

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Play Along With Me (RWYLM SNIPPET) - GYWNRIEL

So, uh, guess who got carried away with a little something in her newest chapter update? Roleplaying Gwynriel, anyone?

It started out as a joke, somewhat fixed upon the cover of one of her many erotic novels that kept her mind busy. The heroine in the midst of Civil War, finding herself besotted with the enemy, and rushing off to the swamp where, under the canopy of the mossy trees, allowed herself to drown passion in the arms of a man who promised to bring her family ruin. The swamp could conceal their torrid love affair for only so long.

The cover of the smutty book did not disappoint: the virginal white dress was hiked up, and a porcelain leg latched itself over the hip of a Yankee shoulder, his shirt half buttoned, a sword still attached to the hilt on his belt, and dark hair mused by her slender fingers pulling him closer than what propriety would allow. His nose grazed against the column of her naked throat, and his hand threatened to do away with the sleeve that protected what little decency she had left. Creamy cleavage teased the senses, and anticipation enthralled them both.

Gwyn had joked that was the dress she desired, but the more she fixated on the scenery, the plot, the nostalgia of home hit her like a freight train. A search on the web had narrowed her selection by obsession – she wanted a dress that reminded her of the mossy trees extending outward and looming like a presence over the water; the slow current of the swamp carrying branches and leaves that found themselves adrift; a dress reminiscent of a southern belle gallivanting down an alley of oaks, heaving a pile of fabric over her ankles as she hurried along in haste. Daring shoulders begging to be kissed, and coyly hidden by a tress of hair, only to be pushed aside by a eager lover determined to worshiped the tantalizing skin with tender lips in sinful secret.

She got lost in the daydream, picturing herself as the heroine, and the hazel eyes of her lover no doubt belonging to a man who pledged his hand, his honor, and his name to her – should she chose to have him. Yes, Azriel, she’d whispered in a rush, eagerly to express her devotion in more than just a few words. He’d sweep her up from her feet, bundling fabric and tussling hair in a fit of passion to seal their oaths.

Must be a really exciting part of the book if you’re dozing off, Azriel teased, grinning shamelessly when he pried her from her own salacious thoughts. A blush ran up her cheeks and her eyes broadened to the size of saucers as she felt embarrassment take hold.

Have you ever role played? She countered, hoping to return the favor, and throw him off his game. He was unphased, even more so intrigued at the prospect. He set aside his tablet and clasped his hands over a bent knee, grinning.

What have you concocted in that crafty little mind of yours? He sang mischievously.

Humor me, she demanded, turning over to face him directly. Let’s go back to the 1864. Sherman is scorching the earth through Georgia and I’m a proud daughter of south hosting his soldiers to spare the family estate from devastation while my father and brothers are away keeping the Union at bay.

Are you sure that’s the side of history you want to be on? Azriel chuckled.

Stick to the narrative. I don’t approve of slavery and my folks are good, honest Christian folk.

So was every other plantation owner, according to them, Azriel retorted brightly, teasing her.

Shut up. I get it. I don’t like it but let’s pretend. I’m the sole daughter running this estate and, to save it from burning to the ground, I allow Sherman and soldiers room and board as they continue their campaign terror through my beloved state, she harrumphed. I can’t stand you, but I have to endure the trials God has given me. All I have left is this house and I wouldn’t know what to do, or where to go, should something happen to it, since I don’t know if the men of family will make it back. I am a woman, and a proud one at that, but I have so few options.

This is a real elaborate plot, Azriel hummed, amused. His eyes flittered to the book cover, knowing the inspiration behind her sudden impulse.

She gathered herself from the bed in a dramatic fashion, looking for a throw to cloak over her shoulders. Your kind have taken up all the rooms to spare in this house, she declared, walking slowly around the front of the bed. His eyes followed devotedly. The only haven I have left is my own childhood room – and somehow, you’ve declared it as your own. What on God’s earth shall I do? I’ve been displaced but I refuse to give up the only solitude I have left in this world. Seems like neither of us are budging.

His grin was predatory, and she paused in her step, acknowledging the heat swelling to a very familiar place. Gwyn locked in her eyes and put on a mask, refusing to show how easily he unnerved her.

I am a gentleman, but you are a traitor, he finally played along, refusing to depart from the mattress. I suppose it’d be unsafe for a lady like yourself to be unaccompanied in a house full of strange men.

You speak as if you are not one yourself, she boasted with a raised chin. I’m asking kindly for you to leave. I’d assume you’d do so as it would be how a gentlemen ought to conduct himself.

Only to ladies – not traitors, he gleamed, coming to a upright sitting position. This here property is hereby declared under martial law. I don’t believe you are in a position to tell me I can and cannot do. By all accounts, had it not been the fact you were born a woman, you’d be tried and condemned alongside the rest of your traitorous kind, and perhaps strung up on the gallows, as a traitor should.

Are you threatening me? She griped back, clinging to the post of her bed.

No, Ma’am. In fact, I’m reminding you how fortunate you are, but don’t count on that luck getting you so far, Azriel remarked smugly. One might think you need to understand how it feels to be bound and at the mercy of one’s kindness, he further perpetrated, testing the waters.

You’re cruel and uncouth, soldier, she whistled through her nostrils, enraged. Her body reacted different, tight with anticipation, and excited at the prospect of what he intended.

On the contrary, I can be quite considerate, and every bit a gentleman, if given the opportunity, he said, nodding to the void in the bed. It is your bed after all. Who am I to deny you such a small comfort in such difficult times? I could protect you. You’ll find my battalion isn’t much like your fine, high society, but I’d never let any harm come to a flower like yourself.

You’re a brute, and no such gentleman. How dare you proposition me! She wailed, spinning around in search of a gun. She opened the closet door and grabbed the unloaded shotgun. He came up behind her and pinned her against him – her back molded into his chest, and arms bent tight as both hands clasped the weapon, enclosing her with no room to wiggle of escape.

Now that’s surely a good way to get yourself sent to the gallows, Miss Berdara. I understand women can be victims to fits of fury, and that’ll I’ll forgive, he said huskily against her ear. You’re full of surprises. I find that endearing.

Don’t patronize me. Unhand me, sir. I dare say, if someone were to come in here… she threatened. I’ll scream! She harrumphed, straightening herself.

There are worst characters in this home. You’re safest with me than with any of them. If you tried this stunt if any one of them, they’d be less courteous, he smiled stiffly. Let go of the gun and maybe tomorrow you can show me if you can shoot it.

Oh, I most certainly can, and you’ll find I’m an excellent marksman. It’d be such a shame if you were in the way,she gritted, refusing to relent.

Is this what those filthy stories encourage? He chuckled, using his dominant strength to reel the shot gun out of her grip, and prop it against the dresser. Corner some damsel after a little verbal spar? He grazed his nose over her shoulder, and up her throat, and then hovered over her ear. Is that what excites you?

At this point he either grabs her and throws her on the bed, where she finds she rather like the feel of a man who knows how to rile her up, or he teases her by taking liberty with his hands, and seeing how far her can test her composure, she grinned mirthfully.

What if he does this instead because she’s maddening, and he can’t help himself from having a taste? He clasped either side of her face and claimed her mouth, deepening the kiss as she gasped in exhilaration. She moaned when his teeth pulled her bottom lip when he finally released her for air. Her eyes fluttered and cleared up to finally absorb his face.

At this point, she’d slap him for being so bold, she whispered, entranced.

What’s stopping you? he smirked, gloating down over her.

That snapped her out the haze. She playfully tapped his cheek. Better?

Hit me like you mean it, he encouraged with teeth shown. Didn’t I just scandalize you? You must be furious. What happened to your self-preservation?

I’m also a woman who alone, without the warmth of man, and this proximity is making me feel things that aren’t natural to how I was brought up, she played along. Riddle me this: why is that?

#Gwynriel #hint of smut #rwylm draft spoiler #rwylm

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princesscyr-fn · 3 years ago

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Brothers x Autistic! MC Tidbits/Headcanons

I figured I’d do one as I’m autistic and I wanna be included in things. At the same time however, autism is a spectrum and each of us experience different behaviors and such. As such, each MC for each brother is different so everyone feels included! These are meant to be platonic but you can interpret this however you want. I’m asexual so writing actual romantic stuff makes me very uncomfortable lol.

|Masterlist is here|

MC is gender neutral, yall

Available on Ao3, Wattpad

Lucifer

♡ Clashing with one another from the get go. ♡ Lucifer tends to criticize you, and its mostly unintentional. He’s just looking out for you, though his pride prevents him from admitting that he cares about you. ♡ One day though, the usual comment that falls from his lips about you ends up making you snap. As a result, you are calling him every name under the blocked sun in the Devildom. (Satan LOVES this.) This is when Lucifer realizes he made a fucky wucky. (Thanks @error-code-606 lmao) ♡ Lucifer gets a super harsh reality check from Satan, reminding him that you are autistic and that constant put-downs is bad for a persons self-esteem/image issues. For once, pride feels guilt bubbling in his gut. ♡ From then on, Lucifer is more mindful of how he words his issues with you. (Still staying blunt, which you appreciate.) All the while he praises you from time to time for all the good stuff you’ve done thus far. ♡ Lucifer would keep mental notes of all your stims and triggers. ♡ Entertains stim toys and isn’t bothered by such as he tries to work. ♡ Lucifer would play soothing music for you, mostly classical or easy listening. Something to tingle your sensory. ♡ He stops your meltdowns before you could fully lose control of yourself. ♡ Soft hands are your weakness and Lucifer’s hands don’t disappoint. He’ll let you hold his hands anytime you desire. ♡ Lucifer's office is the best spot for you to have quiet time. ♡ You can talk his ear off and he would love every second of it, deep down.

Mammon

♡ He was quick to pick up on your behaviors before you could push him away. ♡ He is able to joke with you, both of you laughing like hyenas all the way. ♡ Mammon would never make fun of your stutter or mispronunciation of words. He’s patient and tries his best to help you. He absolutely hates when the other demons (not his brothers) make fun of you for something you have no control over. ♡ Both of you would find comfort in each other. ♡ You would absolutely adore his hair. Being a fan of bright colors and his hair being as white as angel wings. Bless his heart, he will allow you to play with it while denying how much he likes it. ♡ He knows the sound of coins is one of your favorite sounds sensory wise. He always makes sure to have some coins on him. ♡ Mammon would remember all of your fixations and then try to shower you in gifts relevant to your current likes. ♡ He loves music and will sing with you no matter how goofy you both sound. ♡ Late night Hell’s Kitchen runs are mandatory. ♡ You are the only person he would try so hard not to steal from. (He’d fail miserably and just keep your stuff instead of selling it.) ♡ Class would be hilarious with him, he’s a class clown. ♡ While he may be a class clown, I think he would somewhat try a bit harder on his work because you encourage him to do his best every single day.

Leviathan

♡ Things between the two of you are tense at first as both of you are socially awkward and standoffish. ♡ Though once you’re both comfortable, you will talk each others ears off about anime, video games, and everything under the blocked sun of the Devildom. ♡ You two will develop a secret language that the other brothers won’t understand. Imagine all that shit talk. ♡ You’re both stimmers! While Levi has physical and vocal stims, yours are mostly vocal with the occasional twitch and thigh slap. ♡ You both are major plushie enthusiasts. Prove me wrong. (You can’t.) ♡ Eye contact is difficult to maintain between the two of you, with both of you either yelping, blushing, and looking away while sputtering nonsense. ♡ Mention your love or interest in aquatic life or the sea and watch him fall in love with you, (he’s a sea monster, duh) though he will deny it smh. ♡ You both share a love for slime and will buy a lo of it on your trips to the human world. (When you two feel like doing things like that.) ♡ Levi will most certainly dress as a cat maid so long as you do it too. ♡ Stim games are 100% your favorite games to play with him. (Minecraft, Terraria, Fortnite, No Mans Sky...) ♡ Levi figures out that the sound of the ocean soothes you, and will imitate the sounds in his fish tanks to help you relax. ♡ You two make the best cosplay duo. No question about it.

Satan

♡ He is more understanding than you were led to believe. (Shame on you, Lucifer.) You avoided him at first until you found yourself in a heated debate with him regarding human world fauna kingdom. This conversation, though heated, gave you the chance to actually talk to him. It was then the realization hit that Lucifer intentionally kept you two apart. ♡ You two end up becoming close friends. ♡ You hate reading alone as its not engaging and gets boring quickly. So you tell Satan that you would like for him to read to you, which he’d accept without a second thought. ♡ He would remember your likes and dislikes. He would always encourage you to talk about your latest obsession. He’s always interested in hearing about what you have to say. ♡ Jingle cat ears. No explanation needed. (Might dress up as a cat maid with you and Levi, tho.) ♡ He would learn all your stims and triggers so he can help you when you need it. ♡ If you’re the artsy type, you bet he will learn all the crafts for you. ♡ The sound of turning pages satisfies your sound sensory. ♡ Nature walks, lots of them. Quiet moments together means the world to the two of you. ♡ Occasionally you fall asleep next to him as he reads to you. His voice is soothing enough to lull you to sleep. ♡ You two are so close in fact, he rubs it in Lucifer's face. ♡ Satan always finds himself holding your hand whenever you two go out to crowded public places.

Asmodeus

♡ Physical contact wasn’t your thing until you met the avatar of lust. ♡ He took it personally at first when you would stand awkwardly whenever he hugged you or how you would pull your hand away when he would try to hold it. ♡ Once you explain that you are autistic and physical contact was a weird subject for you, he is quick to understand. After all, he is all about consent and wanted to make sure you were comfortable. ♡ Friendship blossoms between the two of you quickly and smoothly. ♡ Asmo would help you with being more extroverted by inviting you to parties. ♡ He would make note of your stims and to satisfy your sensory, he would buy lotions and perfumes. ♡ Getting your nails done is fun and Asmo is perfect for that task. ♡ You have a best friend who will listen to you intently and give you good advice. ♡ Going shopping is less nerve wracking with him. Plus he would give you fashion tips so you can look and feel your best. ♡ The first time you gave him a hug on your own, he wept tears of joy. ♡ Spa days are mandatory. ♡ There is a love between the two of you that does not require a relationship to be valid.

Beelzebub

♡ Beel warmed up to you quickly, especially when he witnesses your appetite at dinner. ♡ He is always curious and asking you questions to better understand you. ♡ You are quick to share your food with him and vice versa. ♡ Eating competitions, though you would lose to him always, unless if he was going easy on you. (Good luck, chief) ♡ Playful and friendly flirting/banter. ♡ Beel would be interested in whatever you obsess with that week. ♡ He is patient with you and doesn’t judge you for things you have no control over. ♡ Includes you in all family activities because hes all about family first. ♡ You two will gush to each other about any and everything. ♡ Hell’s Kitchen dates? Fuck yeah. Those are mandatory. ♡ Though you are picky in terms of texture, Beel would gladly eat whatever food you won’t. ♡ You aren’t a very active person, but that will change with Beel. Eat first, then run it off, human.

Belphegor:

♡ Warmed up to you quickly despite killing you, mainly because you forgave him and still treated him with kindness despite the fact. (Simp *cough* *cough*) ♡ He is very understanding in regards to your sensory, stims, and meltdowns. ♡ Loves laying in silence with you (and vice versa) ♡ Belphie would show you constellations with his magic to help you sleep. ♡ Slime? You bet Belphie would be as entertained as you are on that subject. Cloud slime would be one of his favorites. ♡ You two communicate with each other better in silence. ♡ He would share his cow pillow with you. ♡ Your sensory craves anything that is soft. Belphie would be surprised at first when you mindlessly play with his hair as you lay together. ♡ Your troubling dreams became a little more peaceful with Belphie at your side. ♡ Both of you are big plushie enthusiasts and have a plushie club hangout spot with Levi. ♡ Belphies voice does satisfy your sensory. ♡ Tea time is a fun activity between the two of you. It leads to good naps as well.

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