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innerfare · 3 months ago

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Law NSFW // Smut Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Law smut from my multi character posts (Going Down On You, Sex Toys, Threesome Headcanons, Blowjobs, Playing With Your Nipples, Mirror Sex).

Genre: Pure Smut

CW: NSFW // dom Law, daddy Law, oral (receiving and giving), outdoor sex, threesomes with Zoro and Robin, toys, spanking

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Kisses:

Deep and warm, but not very sloppy. It takes a bit for him to use tongue, but when he does, it’s measured. Doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat, just pushes it slightly into your mouth. Pretends to be annoyed if you get sloppy but secretly lives for you biting and licking his ears. So many hand kisses, too. Often catches your hand when you pass each other in the hallway and place a warm kiss against your palm. Will also mutter things into your neck between pressing kisses into the crook of it. Kiss him on the cheek if you want to see him blush.

Going Down On You:

Most definitely uses it as a punishment. He’ll chastise you while he fingers you slowly, his lips mere inches from your leaking cunt. He’ll scold you for being so wet for him or for whining/being impatient.

“Poor thing, you're aching for it.”

When he does finally go down, he’s meticulous about it, tonguing every crevice and licking up every last drop. He’ll make you hold your own legs up and wide open so he can have easier access, and so he can busy his own hands with your breasts.

On the occasions he does let you lower your legs, he really enjoys your fingers in his hair and your feet resting on his back. Especially likes it when you use your feet to push him away so he can wrestle with you a little; he pulls rank, too, telling you that you have to listen because he’s your captain or a doctor.

“Y/n-ah, stay still. Doctor’s orders.”

He’s a spanker and if you get too loud, his hand will come down on your breasts or ass until you grab a pillow to muffle your cries, never mind that the sound of him spanking you is louder than your moans. Also, he has a habit of falling into bed at 2am and waking you up with his head between your legs.

His Favorite Place:

Law really is partial to fucking you in bed. He has a sealskin blanket from back home in the North Blue, and he loves having you sprawled naked across it while the Polar Tang is deep under water. But on the rare occasions he doesn’t just lock you in his cabin and have his way with you, he wants you somewhere quiet and private. He’ll bend you over his desk with his hand clamped over your mouth and fuck you hard and fast, and then he’ll pretend like nothing happened, sending you on your way with his cum dripping out of you.

Threesome Headcanons 1:

Law watching you and Robin make out, and Robin watching Law fuck you, amazed by how well you take Law’s thick cock, finally deciding she’s brave enough to take it, too. Robin coming between the two of you and bending over for Law, holding your legs open so she can bury her face in your pussy while she gets fucked by the doctor. Robin getting lost between the two of you, drawing countless orgasms out of you and giving several of her own to Law. Law cumming inside Robin first but not neglecting you, fucking through the exhaustion so you can have his load inside you, too.

Threesome Headcanons 2:

You getting drunk and asking an equally inebriated Zoro and Law to join you, fully expecting the swordsman to agree but the captain of the Heart Pirates to scoff. And Law does scoff, before promptly joining both you and Zoro in bed. These two seem so domineering but you’ll actually be able to call the shots if you say, “pretty please,” and pout; they’ll roll their eyes but do whatever you want, so long as you let them between your legs. Jerking Law off while you ride Zoro, sucking Zoro off while Law fucks you from behind, riding Zoro again while Law fucks you in the ass. Hot and heavy, but pretty chill vibe. Will definitely happen again.

Sex Toys:

He actually starts out pretty vanilla, but gets progressively kinkier throughout your relationship, meaning the slow introduction of more and more toys. What starts as the two of you sharing stolen glances in the hallway turns into you making out in the lab and ends in you tied up on your stomach while Law holds a vibrating wand to your clit. He’s also such a spanker. You two basically never have sex without him spanking you at least once. Law has most definitely used his belt on you before. Likes a butt plug on occasion but not too into it, also enjoys metal handcuffs but will not submit to being the one in them. Also, he thought he would enjoy gagging you, but the first time he did, he quickly realized the only thing worse than you arguing with him during sex is you not arguing (brats, hit Law up).

Blowjobs:

Please let him cum in your mouth. Please, please, please. He might even say please, which is a pretty big deal for a man like Trafalgar Law. "You know I like it, why do you keep making me say it?" So annoyed at you, but all that goes away when he cums and you open your mouth to show him his cum before swallowing. Was actually hesitant to let you suck him off at first because he felt like he was giving up control. Allowing you to pleasure him was difficult, struck by the fear of letting himself get lost in your touch and doing something embarrassing like whining, but he didn’t hold out for very long, and his resolve to only allow you to do it only on occasion collapsed entirely after the first time you swallowed his cum. He tries to stay quiet while you suck his cock, but he’ll grunt if you hum or moan with him in your mouth; he’s definitely whimpered before, though he’ll never admit it. He usually screws his eyes shut and tries to keep himself from coming undone entirely. His favorite part is when you lick your lips afterward, like it was a treat for you, too.

Playing With Your Nipples:

When he starts palming your tits, he takes so long to get to your nipples you think you’re going to die. He can be a bit rough with your tits, but never with your nipples, hardly ever biting or pinching, just thumbing and kissing. Probably one of his favorite naughty activities is stripping you down in front of a mirror and kneading your tits, eyes pinned to your nipples. If not that, then he likes holding you in his lap while he works, one hand beneath your shirt. He’s really into spanking, too, and that includes your tits. He’ll smack them while he fucks you, leaning down to kiss your nipples after every three or four times.

Mirror Sex:

One of his favorite things in the world is taking your clothes off and putting you in front of the mirror to play with your tits. He’s not sure why, but he really enjoys it. This naturally leads to him sitting behind you and pulling your legs open and playing with your pussy in front of the mirror, telling you to watch closely as he uses his tattooed surgeon’s hands to work two or three orgasms out of you, Law mora than enjoying the extra access to your most vulnerable spots the mirror gives him, the extra close look he can get with your legs open in front of it. Only after the fourth or fifth time doing this does it occur to him that he could fuck you in front of the mirror. Thus, you end up in reverse cowgirl (unusual considering he never lets you on top), riding him while Law sits mesmerized by the way your tits bounce. You quickly learn that if you ever want to be on top, you just have to drop him in front of the mirror and he’ll sit mesmerized as you have your way with him.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece smut #law x reader #law smut #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x afab!reader #law x reader fluff #trafalgar law x reader #law one piece #law #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law headcanons

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jpitha · 5 months ago

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Stamina

Downtime on the K’laxi Starbase, and Kelly and Evan wheel their stationary exercise bikes out into the common area and start a ride. If they're not going to be moving anyway, they might as well have a more interesting view than the wall of the exercise room. Before their commission, they both loved the outdoors, and found friendship in trying to keep their two wheeled skills.

The bikes large wheels that hum and whirr as they pedal. After a short warm up, they both get into the rhythm of motion, enjoying the feeling of their muscles being used. To help with overheating, Evan set up a fan to circulate air on them. Evan was used to short rides, but Kelly wanted him to build stamina. She was even working out how to connect a sensorium so they could ride "outside." For it to be worthwhile, she wanted a long ride, so she was trying to get him to be able to finish a century - a ride of one hundred miles (an obsolete form of measurement).

After a few moments, some K'laxi stop and watch them as they work out. Kelly and Evan, heads down as they pedal, don't seem to notice.

After half an hour or so of pedaling Evan lifted his head and looked at Kelly. “You know what I’m sick of?”

Kelly looked up from her bike. “The whole Deathworlder thing?”

Evan nodded emphatically. “Yes! I don’t think it’s fair that everyone says Earth is a Deathworld. It implies that we’re some kind of strange being. It’s othering!” Evan was gesturing with his water bottle as he spoke. The K'laxi watching were focused on the bottle being swung around, seemingly entranced by the droplets of water that Evan was flinging around.

Kelly leaned up off the handlebars, but kept pedaling. She started counting things on her fingers. “There’s plenty of other worlds that have storms, plenty of other sapient peoples that are strong, lots of places with large moons, plenty of other places like Earth.”

“Exactly! They are working so hard to fit us into a stereotype, and then they don’t have to learn about us as individuals.” Evan's water bottle was just leaking now, and droplets increased. Kelly blinked when drops hit her face. One of the K'laxi took a step back.

As they talked, the crowd grew. Deep in concentration on their ride, they didn't notice the attention that they have garnered. A Gren in the back gestured with his mouthparts, and two others joined him. A small group of Innari fluffed their feathers in agitation as they watched the humans continue to spin. Even a few humans stood on the sidelines of the crowd and grinned. They wanted to see what the others would do.

Evan and Kelly pedaled in silence for a while longer until Pen couldn't stand it any longer. His friends nudged him and whispered encouragement for him to finally speak up. “You realize you’re having this conversation, on a K’laxi Starbase, while pedaling your excise bicycles at-" He looked over at a readout on Kelly' bike "-180 watts for at least one standard hour now?”

Even looked surprised. “We’re doing a century!”

"That's when you ride continuously for 160 kilometers or so." Kelly sounded matter of fact as she reached down and took a sip from her own water bottle.

One of the Innari squawked, “You’re not even breathing heavy!” The others around them bobbed their heads in agreement.

Kelly looked over at the Innari who spoke up. When they locked eyes, the Innari looked down, their feathers flat, embarrassed. “You know what? They're right, Evan. Time to step it up.”

As Evan grinned and pedaled harder, he looked up and finally noticed the crowd that had gathered. There were maybe 10 or 12 people watching the two humans pedal without going anywhere. Some in the back were having quiet wagers about how long they could go on. A human was collecting the bets, not even trying to hide her smile.

The murmurs of the crowd finally got the better of Kelly. "Just what... are you all... doing here?" Kelly panted.

"Um.. just watching you pedal?" A young K'laxi in the front offered and took a nervous step back.

"I can see that, but why?"

"You're riding so much and you aren't even tired!" Another in the back added.

Nods and noises from assent from the crowd. They watched, fascinated as the human's active cooling started kicking in and they both developed a sheen of... liquid on their skin. They called it sweating. The K'laxi called it weird. The Innari called it disgusting.

A Gren on the side of the crowd joined in. "Yeah! How long can you go? I've got 30 stars with Mel'itar that says you can't go the full 160 kilometers without stopping."

A Sefigan near the front frowned and looked like he was having a conversation with his translator. “My translator says a century is 100, but you’re doing 160km?”

Evan sighed. “160 kilometers is 100 miles. That’s the century”

"What's a mile?" A K'laxi child from the crowd interrupted. Sounds of assent from the crowd.

"Old measurement. We don't use it anymore." Kelly finally started to sound like she was having difficultly speaking while she was exerting herself, a good while after Evan started breathing heavily.

The same Innari that spoke up earlier - Soft Autumn Breeze - stared at them out of one eye, and then the other. "You're pedaling the equivalent of one hundred sixty kilometers In one session?” It sounded like they were amazed in addition to being frustrated. Soft worked with Evan in the greenhouse, but had no idea he did... this in his spare time. It was perplexing. All this work and effort for no reason?

“Yeah” Kelly said between breaths “doesn’t count if you stop and take a break.”

Evan used his nearly empty water bottle to point at the Innari. "You're making it sound weird Soft, it's not weird."

"Evan, it is weird." Soft said, emphatically. "What you're doing is weird. You're... pretending to ride a two wheeled sapient powered conveyance on a starbase for an unreasonably long distance without stopping. If I tried that - even if you built one of those... things that fit my leg geometry, I'd collapse and die within two standard hours."

"Soft, I am riding it, it's not pretending." Evan countered.

"We're not going anywhere though, maybe that's what he means." Kelly said.

Evan shrugged. "Well, he should have said that."

By now, the crowd had started to argue about how long each species could last riding a bike. Most agreed that the humans would out-ride them full stop, but both the Gren and the Sefigans felt they could give a real challenge... for the first few hours at least. One of the humans in the crowd started taking measurements, and was designing a bike that could be printed for other species to ride. After a while a whole spin class was being set up.

Soft opened his mouth and clacked shut it again. His feathers fluttered in frustration, and he sighed dramatically. He turned around and walked away from the crowd. “Deathworlders” he muttered.

"Hey Soft, don't use that word, remember the training? The humans find it hurtful." Another Innari said as he walked by.

"Argh!" Soft stomped away as the noise of the crowd dissipated.

#writing #humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #jpitha #humans and aliens #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians

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thebearme · 5 days ago

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I remember hearing about a now fake leak title for the fnaf 2 movie pizzeria, i don't remember what the particular name was but it had to do with water. So the idea of the fnaf 2 place being a waterpark with and gift shop, outdoor dining area where you eat the pizza, pirates cove actually being in water, just EVERYTHING.

I love the idea more than anything so that just what im gonna headcanon the place to be.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf 2 #fnaf 2 fanart #fnaf #toy chica #toy freddy #toy bonnie #imagine them hosting pool birthday parties- it's so cool

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hungee-boy · 8 months ago

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Our House is Unsafe, Help Us Gain a New Start

Do NOT tag as #d*nation, #m*tual aid, #p*ypal, #c*shapp, etc.

My name is Ross and I'm the oldest child of my family, with whom I currently live with. Our household consists of me, my widowed mother, and my three younger siblings, the youngest being 16. My dad died suddenly in his sleep November of 2021 and since then we have struggled pretty much every day to keep ourselves alive and housed.

Our house, my childhood home, is a 3 bedroom mobile home built in 1990 and for as long as I can remember, it has always been hoarded and falling apart. Over the past few years, we've made significant progress in reducing the hoard and giving us space to live in, but still this is a 30+ year mobile home that is damaged beyond our capability to repair.

Problems that exist currently in our house include:

No working HVAC

Half of the house has no power

Weakened floors due to water and pet damage

Outdoor siding rotting due to plant growth and water damage

Major leaks in the covered porch's roof, causing immense water damage and mold growth

Drywall, ceiling, and flooring damage (our entire kitchen's floor is just plywood now due to damage)

So many other issues that I've honestly lost track

We, of course, originally planned to slowly fix whatever issues had come up, but our plans changed when we came across a deal to purchase a brand new 5 bedroom mobile home for a discounted price. Not only does a new house such as this give us a safe, secure, and clean place to live, but the additional rooms ensure that all of us have our own bedroom and that we have more space to live and work. Currently, me, my mom, and my sister all share the master bedroom, so obviously the concept of all of us having our own privacy is leading us to make this decision more.

Right now, we currently have $2,000 put towards the down payment for the new house, out of a $9,000 down payment. We are able to make payments early and we expected to be able to put money down every month, until my mom's job fucked her over and didn't schedule her for 6 weeks. This greatly put us behind not just on payments for the new house, but also bills and getting my mom's car insured and registered, as it's now a year overdue for both.

I'll do anything for this chance, anything if it means that my family and I can finally have a home we deserve, a home my dad would've wanted for us.

I'm desperate, we're all desperate, for a chance to live normally for the first time in our lives. Living in squalor is all I've known and the opportunity to escape it is honestly the only thing keeping me going right now.

I don't know what I'd do if I'm forced to live in this shithole another year, let alone for the rest of my life. So, please, if you have the means I'd forever be grateful if you donate. If you can't donate, then please share this. It would mean everything to me.

Links:

[PP] [CA]

Thank you if you read this, thank you if you share, and thank you so so much if you donate.

#important #idk what else to tag this as that tumblr doesnt have hidden #so mutuals if you could please rb this id be immensely grateful and will gift you art for every birthday #i mean it

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plumbertucson · 1 year ago

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Tucson AZ Plumber

#Tucson AZ Plumber #Tucson plumber #plumber #irrigation #irrigation systems #irrigation plumber #outdoor plumbing #outdoor plumber #toilet leak #tub leaks #shower leak #kitchen leaks #bathroom leaks #aquasana #water filtration #water filer installs

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faithfulren · 8 months ago

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tent troubles (pt. 2)

part two of : tent troubles – @faithfulren on Tumblr !! <3

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the camping trip had been going smoothly for the most part, with class 1-A enjoying their time in the great outdoors. however, as night fell on the second day, a sudden downpour caught everyone off guard. rain pounded against the tents, threatening to turn the campsite into a muddy mess.

inside one of the tents, bakugo and the reader were huddled together, trying to stay dry. unfortunately, their tent had sprung a leak, and water was starting to seep in from the roof.

"great, just great," bakugo muttered, glaring at the offending leak. "this trip couldn't get any fucking worse."

y/n tried to stay positive, despite the less-than-ideal situation. "it's not so bad. we can just move our sleeping bags away from the leak."

bakugo grumbled but nodded, helping the reader move their sleeping bags to a drier spot in the tent. as they settled back down, the sound of the rain on the tent fabric filled the silence between them.

"sorry about this," bakugo muttered, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

the reader smiled, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "it's not your fault. besides, it's just a little rain. we'll make the best of it."

bakugo glanced at the reader, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "thanks, i guess.. you're always so… optimistic." he still spoke in that same rough tone he always has.

y/n shrugged, their smile widening. "what can i say? i try to see the silver lining in every situation."

they sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the rain lulling them into a sense of peace. despite the leaky tent and the wet conditions, they felt surprisingly content.

as the rain eased up and the night grew quieter, bakugo spoke up again. "hey, i… i wanted to tell you that i'm sorry again for being an asshole sometimes.. i also really trust you. and i don't say that to many people." he looked away, hands in his pockets.

the reader smiled, touched by his sincerity. "i trust you too, bakugo. and i understand why you felt that way. it just shows how much you care.. sometimes."

bakugo looked down at the ground, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "yeah, well… i do care. more than I let on."

the sincerity in his words warmed y/n's heart, and without thinking, they leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to bakugo's cheek. bakugo's eyes widened in surprise, but a small smile tugged at his lips.

"thanks, bakugo. for everything," the reader said softly.

bakugo's expression softened, and he leaned in, capturing the reader's lips in a gentle kiss. it was a brief but meaningful gesture, conveying all the emotions he struggled to put into words.

as they pulled away, y/n's heart was racing, their cheeks flushed with warmth. bakugo's eyes met theirs, and in that moment, they both knew that their bond had deepened, strengthened by their shared experiences on this unexpected camping trip.

as the rain continued to fall outside, the two of them settled down for the night, their hearts full and their spirits lifted. despite the tent troubles and the leaky roof, they knew that they wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here, together.

#anime #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #x reader #fluff #faithfulren

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naatechnicalsblog · 2 years ago

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calaisreno · 9 months ago

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Under the Weather

There are days when everything goes wrong. I don't mind, as long as you're with me.

1731 words / Prompt: Weather

When John pushes the door open, he’s hit with a Baltic blast of air from within. This is surprising; it’s a cold day, but generally 221B is a bit warmer than outdoors.

“What’s going on?” he asks the bundle of blankets on the sofa.

“Not much,” Sherlock replies. “Lestrade called with a case. I solved it over the phone.”

John lets out a sigh; it becomes a small, vaporous cloud. “I mean, why is it so cold in here?”

“The temperature outdoors is minus seven degrees. In here, it is four degrees above zero. Eleven degrees warmer. You ought to be asking me, why is it so warm in here?”

“I mean,” John says, keeping his jacket buttoned and sinking into his chair, “Why is it bloody four degrees inside our flat?”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say that? The boiler’s broken.”

“Have you rung someone?”

The blanket bundle sighs. “Mrs Hudson is away, visiting her sister.” He’s using his patient voice, which means that John is going to have to shout if he wants an explanation. “I don’t know how to fix a boiler, and there’s no service tag on it, so I don’t know who to call.”

“You might have looked in the phone book. They do list people who fix boilers, you know.”

Sherlock waves a hand dismissively. The hand is wearing a purple mitten, which probably came from Mrs Hudson’s knitting basket. “This is 2010. Who uses phone books these days?”

“Maybe the internet knows who fixes boilers?”

Sherlock wags mittened hands at him. “Fingers frozen. Can’t type.”

“And all day you’ve been waiting here for me to come home and save you from freezing to death?”

The pile of blankets mumbles.

“What?”

“I said, you’re better at dealing with boilers.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to call someone to fix a boiler, Sherlock.”

“Exactly.” A pair of grey eyes and a pink nose peep out of the blankets. “The electricity still works. Can you make tea? That might thaw my fingers.”

Cursing softly to himself, John fills the kettle. At least the pipes haven’t frozen, though that might be next. He sets it on the base, and flicks it on. The light remains unlit. “What did you do to the kettle?”

“Oh, erm. Why do you ask?”

“It’s not working.”

“It is a very old kettle. They don’t last forever, you know.”

“Oi!” He holds up the base. “Why is the cord no longer connected to the base?”

More mumbling. He catches the word experiment and something about microwave not working either…

Cursing a bit louder, John opens his laptop and searches for someone who will repair a boiler. He casts an evil look at the sofa as he dials the first one he finds.

A minute later he ends the call. “It’s after hours,” he announces. “And the weekend is just starting. I left a message.”

He tries three more numbers, then five more, leaving increasingly desperate messages.

For a moment he sits, eyes closed, and contemplates the long, cold weekend that lies ahead. Maybe the telly works, at least. He takes the remote and presses the power button.

“Cable’s out too,” Sherlock’s voice says. He still in his blanket pod, but knows John well enough to anticipate his thought process. “Ice on the lines.”

“Well,” John says. It’s all fine for Sherlock, who is in a cocoon, unaffected by the weather inside the flat. “I’ll be upstairs putting on my arctic gear.”

“I’ll call for takeaway,” Sherlock says.

John’s room is even colder than downstairs. This is mainly because water has been leaking through a hole in his ceiling. The hole is a surprise, an unhappy one. Not big enough to see sky, but enough to let water in. This morning, before it started to rain and the temperature began to drop, followed by ice and snow, the ceiling was intact. His room was nice and warm—and dry.

There’s no way he can blame Sherlock for the age of the roof, the weather’s bad timing, or the bad luck that hovers over John like a small, dark cloud.

He curses loudly as he opens drawers, hunting for his long johns and wool socks. Finding them, he sits on the bed and curses again as water soaks into his pants.

“Bloody buggering hell! What did I do to deserve this!”

The fates have no answer for this.

Finally, having discarded his wet pants, donned his long johns, wool socks, a pair of corduroy trousers that fit over the long johns, a polo neck pullover, and the warmest jumper in his drawer, he heads down the stairs, cursing at a volume loud enough for the other resident of the flat to hear.

The sitting room is silent, the lump on the sofa unmoving.

“There’s a hole in the roof!” he announces. “My bed is soaked through.”

“We could make a fire in the hearth,” Sherlock suggests. He’s poking his head out now, looking like a curly-headed turtle.

“By we, I assume you mean me.” John grabs the blanket off the back of his chair and wraps it around his shoulders before sinking into the chair. “Do we have any firewood?”

“A relevant question.”

“Look, I won’t mind burning some of your books if it’ll keep me warm.”

“My books are valuable. You might try burning some of those idiotic spy novels you read. But there’s some firewood downstairs, by the back door. I’m sure Mrs Hudson won’t mind us using it. Better than coming home and finding our stiff, dead corpses—”

“Let’s not talk about corpses right now.” Not while I’m thinking about killing you. “Did you order some food, I hope?”

“Angelo’s is closed, due to weather. I ordered Chinese.”

“Thank god.” John leans back in his chair. Every muscle in his back is tight from a very long day, and he’s shivering hard, wishing for a cup of tea.

He hears movement from the sofa and opens his eyes. Sherlock stands, shedding his blankets. He’s dressed in a pair of John’s tracksuit bottoms, John’s Christmas jumper, and wool socks that look suspiciously like they came out of John’s sock drawer.

He’s glaring down at John with concern (if such a thing is possible). “Stop shivering.”

“Involuntary response,” he replies, teeth chattering. “That’s my jumper you’re wearing.”

“I didn’t have anything warm enough.”

“You made fun of that jumper at our Christmas drinks thing.”

“Well, it’s more appropriate now, isn’t it?” He arranges one of his blankets around John, tucking him into his chair. Then he strides out the door.

When he returns with a bundle of firewood, John is reflecting that there won’t even be hot water. No bath to warm him up. Just Chinese food and blankets.

The fire is looking somewhat robust by the time the doorbell rings.

The Chinese food helps, though it’s been in transit long enough that it’s not very hot. Sherlock apologises for the tea kettle. And the microwave. When they’ve eaten, he collects the empty cartons and takes the leftovers into the kitchen.

“Fridge still works,” he calls out. “Just warning you, though. It will probably stop when the indoor temperature drops below freezing.”

“Look on the bright side,” John replies. “We’ll be stiff, dead, corpses by then. Beyond caring about milk for the tea we can’t make.”

Sherlock comes back with a bottle and two glasses. “Here’s something to warm us up.”

He hands John a glass and pours. “Happy anniversary, John.”

John laughs. “Right. One year living at 221B. I didn’t expect you’d care about things like that.”

“Why not? One year is the longest I’ve managed to cohabit with anyone. It’s been… good.” He sits down, his face pink in the firelight.

“It has been good,” John admits. He remembers the first time he came through the door, saw Sherlock’s clutter, and wondered what he was getting himself into. He remembers carefully probing, trying to determine whether Sherlock might be interested…

Well, nothing ever goes to plan. That’s the story of John’s life.

He leans back, all the weariness of the day dragging his eyelids down.

“John, wake up.”

“Mm?” He sighs and opens his eyes.

Sherlock is standing over him. “You can’t sleep in your chair. In the morning your neck will hurt.”

“True, but my bed has become an ice floe.”

“Sleep in my bed.”

“What? Oh, you’ll take the sofa.”

Sherlock shakes his head. “Self-preservation, John. Body heat.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We must sleep together.”

“Together?”

“It’s the only way.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

“Science, John. If your core temperature drops too low, you die. And all the firewood is gone, so we have to improvise.”

Improvise, indeed. The bedroom is colder than the sitting room, but the bed is large and, more importantly, not a frozen slab of ice. Keeping their clothes on, they crawl under the covers and move towards one another. Sherlock’s arms go around him, and John lays his head against Sherlock’s chest.

It feels like something they do all the time. Or something they should have done months ago.

John shivers a bit, not from the cold. Sherlock smells like kung pao chicken and expensive scotch.

“Skin-to-skin might be warmer,” Sherlock says. “We shouldn’t take chances.”

John giggles. “Is the boiler really broken?”

“Of course. Did you think I was only trying to get you into my bed?”

“Sherlock.” He feels Sherlock’s nose with his own. It’s like an icicle. “You could have had me in your bed a long time ago, if that’s what you wanted.”

Sherlock is silent. He buries his face in John’s shoulder. “Really?”

“I didn’t think you wanted that.”

“Neither did I.”

“Do you?”

“Everything went wrong today,” he whispers. “And then you came home.”

“This was an especially bad day.” John snuggles into him. “The surgery was full of snotty kids and over-protective parents. Nothing interesting, just mucus and vomit. I didn’t get any lunch. The bus was late. And when I came home, it was freezing. But you were here.”

“John.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t mind all the things that are wrong, as long as you’re with me.”

“Not that I want more misery, but…” John kisses his nose. “You’re the one I want to share it with.”

Sherlock kisses John’s nose, then his lips, lingering. “Let’s get these clothes off before we freeze to death.”

#mayprompts2024

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uarmymoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

after the afterparty

pairing: nerd!namjoon X ex-mean girl!reader

genre: frenemies (? sorta) to lovers, rivals to lovers, college!au, one-shot, angsty, smut,

summary: after a night of partying with your (now ex-)classmates, namjoon finds you alone in the kitchen and unspoken feelings and desires come rushing to the surface

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, reader’s a bit of an asshole, namjoon kinda idolizes her, lots of untold backstory for the #angst, tit/nipple play, biting (lightly)

words: a little over 4.8k

taglist: @kyglover @luaspersona

crossposted on AO3: here.

image by @/chimigraphic on twitter

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You finally take a deep breath of the cold night air. Eyes closed, beer in hand, hip leaned in against the kitchen counter. Another deep breath.

This night took a real toll on you: 2 hours of pre-game plus 4 of partying and an unbelievable 2 and a half more of after-partying, all in the name of socialization and redemption. But it’s over now.

You let the silence embrace and erase you. The outdoor lights paint the room with a faint blue and the only sound is a car passing by and the sink leaking. It’s just you there. The rest have gone to bed – their own or someone else’s - or back to their own airbnbs. But, as tired as you are, you stay there in the kitchen. This last moment of silence before you leave this place for good. And these long nearly 9 hours of today won’t matter. The people at the party won’t matter. Not even that award-stealing, headache-inducing, infuriating, dimpled assh–

A noise stops your thoughts. You turn to your right to see Namjoon kneeling down to catch the water bottle he’d dropped.

“Namjoon.”

“Hey”, he licks his lips “I...I thought everyone else was gone or sleeping.”

“So did I.”

A beat of silence goes by and then another, a longer one. You could almost laugh at the silence that sets between the two of you. Had this happened a while back, you would’ve already told him to fuck off and probably insulted him somehow. Then again, had this been back then, he would’ve been vexing you endlessly by refusing to let the silence just be, doing that nervous back-and-forth on his heels he used to do all the time and talking your ear off.

This isn’t back then, however. So now, you’re just looking at each other.

Alright. You said you’d change your attitude, didn’t you? Here’s a test for you to prove you did. Your chance to do something to Namjoon you’ve never done before: be nice.

“Congratulations.”

He scoffs, incredulous.

“You’re congratulating me?”

You can’t say you’re surprised he asked. There was a time you’d rather have eaten your own two feet before ever complimenting Namjoon to his face, a time you’d have done anything to not stay in the same room as him. Let alone just the two of you together.

“Well, I did tell you I would, when you deserved it” you remind him “You won the academic decathlon, graduated top of the class, and you got the girl. You deserve it now, so there you go: congratulations.” you raise your glass slightly to him.

He hesitates.

“I got a girl.”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. You keep staring at him with those piercing eyes of yours. He hates them. Hates how much he’s always been so aware of them. Hates how much he’s always been so desperate to understand the emotions behind them. But, most of all, he hates how beautiful he finds them, how much they make him feel so on the spotlight, so special.

He watches you open and close your mouth. Once. Twice. You’re speechless? Now here’s one for the history books, he thinks. You’re probably debating whether you should ask him or not about what he meant by that. And God, he hopes you do. He wants you to ask him, he so desperately does. He needs you to want to know what he means. He needs this opening to tell you exactly why Seulgi isn’t the girl, he needs this one chance to tell you what he’s been holding in for so long, the feelings that are always on the tip of his tongue.

Namjoon waits for you to ask. But you don’t. You look away.

You can’t ask him, because that question leads to things you’ve already shut the door of, a long time ago. And he should know better than to try and get it out of you. But he’s Namjoon. Namjoon, always the hopeful idealist, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. And you, always the scoffing pessimist, the egotistical cold bitch. So, you take the coward’s route and when you look back at him all you say is:

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” So there’s no point in talking about any of this, is what you don’t say.

“I know.”

Again, neither of you talk for a while. In silence, you simply look at each other. The air between you is tense with something neither could name exactly. Namjoon breaks the silence this time.

“Dance with me?” he extends his left hand to you.

“There’s no music.”

He shrugs and insists “Dance with me.”

You look at his still stretched hand towards you and it’s almost a perfect flashback of that one night so many nights ago. When he had also reached out for you, in ways more than just physical. When Namjoon had laid out so much of himself for you and all you did was spit it back at him.

“You owe me this one”, he says. Maybe he’s an ass for insisting on this, but God knows you actually do owe him at least this one. You do, and you know it. “You didn’t even talk to me at my party earlier”, he adds.

And it’s just another time that you realize he really is a much better person than you are for using the party as leverage, and not…Well, everything else you’ve done. It’s something you’re not sure you would’ve done for him.

You softly put down your beer on the counter, looking at it while you do so. Anything to not look at him just yet. You need those extra few seconds to…You don’t know what for. To prepare? To breathe? It isn’t to think, surely. Maybe that’s it. You need to not think about what you’re going to do. When the can touches the counter, you spin it a couple times, staring at the label.

With your peripheral vision, you can see Namjoon’s offering hand still out. Again, you remember another moment, a long time ago, when he offered his hand too. You had refused it. God, you suck at this not thinking thing. Andnd you suck at not being a coward.

You finally peel away from the counter and walk quietly to namjoon. You stare at his hand and, taking your time, you slide yours in it. Feeling every inch of his skin until both of your hands are completely touching, and when that happens, you feel a breath you didn’t realize you were holding come out. You feel a bit pathetic for it. The worst part is you hear Namjoon doing the same thing.

Namjoon is smart, you know that. You and everyone who saw him beat you at everything academic-related year after year after year. He’s smart. But he’s not truly smart. If he were truly smart, you think, he’d pull away right now. If he were, he’d turn his back away from you for good.

He doesn’t. He slides his hand from yours to your elbow, caressing your forearm on his way and pulls you in. His fingers on his right hand brush against you, starting with your fingers and going up until he settles it on your waist, pulling you in even more. Not letting go of your elbow, he places your hand on his chest and you complete the action by sliding both your arms around his neck.

You still haven’t looked in his eyes, focusing on his shirt. Actually, his chest. You’d rather not think about that.

You feel his presence all around you, feel him on your skin even though very few parts of you are really touching the other. You feel his head close to yours, your feet almost touching. The two of you stand locked in place.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?” His voice is little more than a breath.

“Move.”

You hear him scoff lightly and get brave enough to glance at him through your eyelashes. Only a shadow of a smile rests on his lips, so his famous dimples are nowhere in sight.

As he begins to lead you, that quivering bravery you felt moments ago vanishes. You go back to staring at his shirt while embarrassingly hoping you don’t step on his toes. You'd count your steps, instead of just hoping you're doing it right. That is if you knew how to do that. Shouldn't there be music in order to properly count the steps? Isn't that how it works? You count by following the beat of the song, right? But, then again, there's supposed to be music when you dance regardless of the counting. God, what a stupid idea. Why did you agree to this anyway?

Namjoon pulls you even closer, joining your chests and your thighs together as you draw in a surprised breath and let out a sigh. Now, your nose brushes against his lips.

Ah, right. That is why.

You really can't do this not-thinking thing. Product of years over worrying about your social status and over analyzing every interaction you had to make sure you came out on top. It’s actually a lot of hard work being the main top bitch in the area.

Briefly, you wonder what people would think if they saw you right now in his arms. You wonder what Namjoon thinks of this whole scene.

And what an interesting scene it is: the dim lights covering you like a blanket while you quietly embrace, a dance that is little more than just swaying softly to a soundtrack of whispers and wind. You can see your pale reflections on the window. The image akin to that of ghost lovers lost to time, only united by the sound of emptiness when time is frozen. Maybe is because of that image of emptiness and stillness, and because you already decided to leave that you tell him:

"I'm sorry.” It's said so softly, so hopelessly, that Namjoon nearly misses it.

There’s so much he could say to that and yet…He puts a hand on your chin and pulls you away just enough to look at your face. With your eyebrows frowning and your beautiful eyes wide scanning him, you look as scared as Namjoon feels. Namjoon traces your face with his thumb: eyebrow to temple to cheek to your lips. This last caress makes your lips part a little, enough for only a thread of air to pass, and eyes flutter.

There’s so much he could say, but there's only one thing he wants.

Your lips touch in a strong kiss. A kiss that is like that first leap of courage into a cold pool. You know the water will be cold at first, but you also know that if you don't jump, you'll never get into the pool. And just like in a pool, neither of you breathe for a while. Just like in a pool, Namjoon is terrified of that first splash of water, scared you'll push him away.

The kiss ends and you catch your breaths. Not for long, though. You grab the lapel of his jacket to pull him in again and relock your lips. Now, you make sure it's a proper kiss, you take your time learning how to kiss him and how you two fit. After a swirl of your tongue, you feel his hand on your lower back put more pressure and pin you closer. Your legs open slightly and he puts one of his legs a little in between yours, his crotch rubbing against yours as you kiss. As you sink your finger deeper into his jacket, Namjoon firmly grabs the back of your neck and presses his hold. The shivers all over your body and your moan encourage him.

A surprised gasp leaves you when Namjoon, with one hand grabbing your neck and the other around your waist, moves you until your back is against a wall. The cold surface touching your back provides a small break from the hot and heavy air between you and him. A small part of you - the part that isn’t busy kissing him - is a little shocked at how strong he got. When you first met him, he was all height and bones. You’d heard he’d started going to the gym some semesters ago, but you sorta refused to really acknowledge it and, when your eyes and body acknowledged that independently, your brain made a conscious choice to ignore it. At the moment, you don’t have much brainpower to make any choice besides making out with him.

Namjoon likes to think he's self aware enough to not be an arrogant prick, but he can't stop the feeling of pride taking over him as you touch him with such clear appreciation of his new physique. He responds to it with his own devotion, intoxicated by your trademark perfume, the same lingering scent that would always tempt him whenever you left a room.

You feel his toned chest and your hands travel along his strong shoulders. And you feel a bit stupid, a bit clichè, because you put your hands on his upper arms and squeeze his biceps. Kinda like in those stupid movies where the sweet bimbo cheerleader fakes coyness as she fawns over the totally not humble quarterback’s muscles. Okay, so, yeah, maybe it’s a bit eye-rolling worthy, but God! his biceps! If his biceps weren’t enough…his thighs! His thighs are huge and strong and you think you’re not really ashamed of how you gladly let him put one of them between your legs. Also, you don’t care that you two are unabashedly dry humping each other, like two horny inexperienced teenagers. Well, suppose that goes with the cheerleader-quarterback thing. Besides, Namjoon certainly doesn’t seem to mind, guiding and motivating your movements by stroking your ass.

Jesus, dry humping someone should not feel this good. You keep going, more, more and more, feeling yourself get wetter with each move, feeling Namjoon get harder each time you feel his dick brushing against your lower belly. He lifts your leg and repositions himself at a better angle so it isn’t just the friction that’s doing it for you, but the hard pressure of his dick too making you nearly lose your mind in need of him - and he's barely touched you. How come you're affected by him like this?

You open your eyes to see him leaving messy kisses along your skin, making his way down your neck past your collarbones. When he reaches your cleavage he makes it a point to maintain eye contact and lazily kisses the space between your breasts. Again, Namjoon isn't particularly conceited, still, he shows a boastful smirk at your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continues his way down your body, his hands trailing its contours and feeling the soft silk of your dress he wished you weren’t wearing.

To him, you’re beautiful like a queen: proud, imposing, and powerful. You’ve always been. He thinks it’s your sharp, intelligent eyes, your intent look, but it’s also your straight and confident posture. Looking at you at the moment, though he can still see that spark of intelligence, your eyes are heavy-lidded. Your posture is not insecure, it’s solicitous, fully ready to give in to him. But you’re still you and because you’re still you that there’s still a hint of royal impatience in the way you press yourself against his body, demanding more out of him.

The vision of him going down past your belly button makes you take a breath and arch your back in anticipation. You'd sooner kill yourself before saying you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you do feel something. It takes all your little sense of self control to not grab his hair and lead him straight to where you want him. You don’t have a chance to actually do this since he’s already dipping even lower, eyeing you with malice and desire and nearly driving you crazy with need. You feel your nipples harden when he strokes your folds through your panties with his thumb before pushing the clothing aside.

“Namjoon”, you moan.

He lets out a low growling sound at that and begins exploring your pussy. Fingers and tongue take turns touching and tasting you. His fingers open and stretch you while his mouth sucks on your clit. You think you mumble something along the lines of “yes” and “there” a few times. Your fingers curl in response and your hips move following his rhythm. He licks and sucks and tastes and touches and strokes and you feel yourself closer to cumming with each movement.

Once more, you catch a glimpse of yourselves in a window. The sight is one of pure depravation. You see how dishelved you look, your lips swollen from the kisses and hair an entangled mess on your head, dress hiked up as one of your legs is proped up on Namjoon’s shoulder, a hand of his squeezing your thigh.You’re a bit impressed at how he’s still at it, when your last few hook-ups seemed to want to eat you out as quickly as possible only to say they did it. You’ve never really seen a man who seems so happy to eat pussy like Namjoon. You watch your reflection for a little bit longer while he continues edging you.

Enough. You need all of him now.

“Namjoon”, you say breathlessly. It was a command, but your mind can only think about his tongue on your pussy. You try again. You forcefully pull his head back “Namjoon.”

He hisses a bit due to the force of you pulling his hair.

“Yes, Your Highness?” you squint your eyes in annoyance hearing the mocking nickname he gave you so long ago. You hated the nickname, because you knew it wasn’t a compliment, just a veiled insult of his. However, hearing it while he’s on his knees for you…not bad, you think, not bad at all. Especially when his already deep voice sounds deeper and raspy, the words coming out with a drawl.

“Bedroom. Now.”

He’s up in a second, leading you upstairs. The way up is confusing and chaotic, with the two of you nearly running but barely letting go of each other, hot and lewd kisses exchanged while you walk. You have no idea how Namjoon finds the right door. He stops kissing you only to open the bedroom’s door, which you quickly shut behind you. He tries to put you against it, but you flip him and press him to the door instead.

For a moment, you only look at him. Spreading your hands on his muscular chest, you listen to your heavy breathing.

“Y/N.”

You kiss him again. You put your lips on his neck and take your time there, busying your hands with taking off his jacket and then unbottuning his shirt. When you finish, you stroke his bulge through his pants. Namjoon lets out a hungry hiss that has you rubbing your thighs together. The point of stroking him was to tease Namjoon, you wanted to see if you could get him so worked up as he’d done to you. Unfortunately for you, you find out that that’s a double edged sword and it’s sharper end is pointed towards you, because the more you touch him the more you feel yourself get hotter. Having him in your hand only makes your mouth water.

There’s only one thing you can think of right now. You pull his member out of his pants, stroking the full length once before you turn him and push him down on the bed. Namjoon watches you crawl onto the bed and fully take off his pants and underwear. It’s not slow and sweet or careful. Every motion of yours is aggressive and fast, eyes gleaming with a hungry determination Namjoon is sure is mirrored in his own eyes. You’re beautiful, so so beautiful. On all fours over him like a fucking lioness ready for her meal. Just looking at you like this makes him even harder.

Maybe the gentlemanly thing would be to stop and tell you there’s no need to repay the favor of earlier. But, well, maybe Namjoon isn’t a gentleman, after all. And he’d surely never deny you of anything, not when you so clearly want him. The idea of you wanting him just a fraction of how much he wants you is the best feeling in the world. Or rather, the second best. Because the first is definitely the feeling of your mouth on him.

You take his full length in your mouth, coating his dick with your saliva. Namjoon watches as you alternate between teasing kitten licks on his cockhead and properly sucking him off, your hands griping the base of his cock. God, you’re not simply beautiful, you’re gorgeous. He fights against the urge to roll back in his eyes in order to watch you going down on him. Your hair is thrown around, some of it tickling his thigh while your head keeps bobbing up and down, your makeup is smeared and your dress is a crumpled mess. And you’re gorgeous.

You make eye contact with him with your lips still wrapped around him and he thinks he’s gonna die. Or cum. Probably both. Maybe it’s his dick talking, but he thinks he’d die happy right now.

“Tell me what you like”, you tell him.

“You.”

The immediate blurted out answer shocks you a bit. You scoff.

“You really can’t keep it in.”

In the split second you don’t move, Namjoon starts to deflate. He ruined everything. He waits for you to get up and leave.

You don’t.

You lean forwards and kiss him. The kiss is nothing more than just the press of your lips together. You ignore the still lingering doubt in Namjoon’s eyes. Reaching past him, you go through the drawers on the nightstand. As you look for condoms, your tits are hanging above Namjoon’s head and he peppers kisses on them. After a few seconds, you get the condom out the drawer.

Namjoon tries taking it out of your hands.

“Give me, I can do it.”

“No”, you stop him. “It’s fine.”

You kiss him lightly on the cheek. Namjoon has to stop for a bit. You’d never been so…soft with him before. Not even in those few months long ago when you had been something akin to friends.

Not wasting any time, you put the condom on his cock. You quickly take your panties off and guide his lenght to where you want it. You two stare at each other as you sink yourself on his cock. Moaning at how he stretches you out. You love how full he makes you feel. He’s so big, his cock makes you feel so good. Having him in your mouth was one thing, having him inside you was heavenly. You place a hand on Namjoon’s chest.

“Lay down.”

Because you personally believe feminism is about having a buff hot nerdy guy under you while you get yourself off.

Head on the pillows, he watches you move your hips, leading him in a slow sensual rhythm. Moaning, your head rolls back in pleasure, mouth open to help you breathe better. The two of you pick up the pace, you bouncing on his cock a little then reverting back to grinding.

“Y/N, your dress. Please.”

Understanding what he means, you pull your dress above your head and toss it to the side. With both hands holding your hips, he only gives your tits a dazed glare. He keeps watching when you take your own hand and play with your tits. Namjoon growls and thrusts his hips upwards harder when you lick two of your fingers and use them to play with your nipples, caressing and pinching them, your palms massaging the rest of the soft flesh.

“Like that?”

The raspiness of your voice, that sparkle of meanness in your eyes, that one raised eyebrow on your face…it’s all almost too much for Namjoon. You are gorgeuous. And he’s so impossibly hard.

“Yeah.”

The word almost doesn’t come out. You shake your head and giggle at him. Only you. Only you could be bouncing on a guy’s cock, suck him off, have him eat you out, and, with just a little giggle, make the guy blush. Still, if feels so good to make you laugh. Even if it’s at him. So good.

Almost beats being inside of you. Almost.

Namjoon flips you and lays you down on the bed. Immediately after you hit the mattress, he’s already on you, mouth licking and sucking on you tit. His pace gets faster, more franctic, more desperate. Hitting deeper and deeper. When he hits a sweet spot, you moan louder.

“Yeah, there. More. More. Yes. Yeah,” you repeat the words like a mantra.

“So beautiful”, he tells you. “Almost there, baby.”

God, the pet name. “Can’t take it anymore”, you say.

“Yeah, you can, baby. You can take it all.”

He knows you can. You - open wide for him, hair spread on the pillows like a halo, nipples hardened for him, pussy clenching around him - can take it. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

On top of you, Namjoon looks like a fucking beast, in the best way possible. Eyebrows furrowed and barring his teeth, his honey skin sprinkled with sweat. A drop of it slips from his forehead and falls on your cheek and you finally cum. Moaning his name over and over. He put his mouth again on your tit, gritting your nipple between his front teeth. With a final moan out of you, Namjoon empties himself inside the condom.

For a few seconds, you don’t move, just listen to each other breathing. Namjoon feels himself getting softer inside you and, on the back of his mind, he dreads the moment he pulls out from you. Dreads the moment you realise whatever you were doing was over, and so was your business with him.

Still, he can’t stay inside you forever. He pulls out.

He busies himself with taking the condom off him and throwing it away while he notices you get tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up. He mentally kicks himself for not doing it for you, but then again, maybe you don’t want him doing this for you. That’s another kind of intimacy you haven’t given him the greenlight to do. Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

You put your dress back on and his heart aches. “First door to the right. Hey, uh - “ he begins before you leave “I’ll go get water. Do you want some?”

You shake your head and leave the room.

Silently, he puts his underwear and pants back on and goes to the kitchen, trying all the way down to not think of you.

He stays a little bit longer than needed in the kitchen. Even after everything, he still can’t feel sure of anything with you. There’s still that ugly feeling of inadequacy whispering in his head that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Tonight was just a fluke.

Namjoon goes back to the bedroom expecting you to not be there anymore. He imagines you jumping out of the bathroom window to escape him or sneaking off through the roof. If he wasn’t busy feeling sorry for what you two could’ve been, he’d probably laugh at the scenarios he made up.

When he opens the bedroom door, though, he finds you there. Curled up under the sheets on one side of the bed. Your eyes are closed and your face is serene. He hesitates.

“You’re not gonna sleep?”

You ask without opening your eyes. Namjoon doesn’t answer, but he climbs onto bed behind you. He doesn’t touch you, but he’s close enough that you feel his warmth beside you and his breathing on your neck.

A while of silence goes by. He’s not sure if you’re already asleep. However, there’s one more thing he needs to say to you, even if you don’t hear it. Something he was too much of a coward to say before.

“Stay.”

You open your eyes. You’re careful to make no move to alert him you’re still up.

You think about his request. Stay. Part of you wants to, part of you - a very small and recent part of you that is hopeful, a part that is only there because Namjoon coaxed it out of you - says you could stay. Stay. You could stay with him. Stay in his bed. In this city. Stay…

Like you said, though, that is a very small part of you. The biggest one is a coward.

When Namjoon wakes up to an empty side of the bed the next day, he instantly knows what happened.

You left.

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author’s note: my first attempt at writing smut (at least full on smut, star to finish), hope it doesn’t suck :DDDD any and all feedback/comments are appreciated

#kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon fanfic #rm x reader #rm imagine #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #my writing #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #bts

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