#so this is also like a small thank you for all of you as well <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[andypantsx3]

BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER

SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long it’s taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope I’m not too rusty—and if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!

Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.

It was something to do with his power, you’d always suspected—as a support engineer unduly interested in other people’s capabilities, you’d spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other people’s powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izuku’s skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.

You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izuku’s keys at the door.

One For All fit cleanly into Izuku’s own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he did—too sweet and eager and lovely.

“Look what the wind blew in,” you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didn’t mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didn’t like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.

Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold he’d tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.

“Lots of small, easy fights today?” You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.

Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. “I only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,” he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.

You gestured at the pot of soup you’d left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.

Izuku’s eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. “I love you,” you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.

You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last you’d need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it right—such as immediate cooling in pro hero Shouto’s temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.

The implementation was going to be so cool—but the theory was so mind numbing.

You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.

“Introduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,” he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you had—he was just as much of a nerd as you were.

“Introduction to Snoozing and Napping,” you grumbled, turning back to your page. “There are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.”

Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.

You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. “It’s an algorithm used for robotic motion planning—you not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.”

Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.

You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to follow—he’d always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. You’d long thought if he hadn’t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.

He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity you’d only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.

His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.

His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.

“I admire how smart you are,” he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.

You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. “Not smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,” you promised him.

He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. “I know you won’t have a problem when you’re awake.”

You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuit’s zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.

“Gotta try to impress you somehow,” you joked, your skin prickling as Izuku’s fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings you’d lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that he’d come inside and warmed up.

“You do impress me,” he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.

You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.

“I will study hard to live up to your faith in me,” you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.

Izuku’s chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. “Tell me more?” he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.

“I’ll read it to you as I go, then,” you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izuku’s eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.

“‘The algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phase’,” you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. “‘In the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.’”

Izuku’s long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.

“‘The algorithm is recursive,’” you continued, “‘It can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.’”

You almost jumped as Izuku’s mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.

“‘Optimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normal–that is, Gaussian–distribution,’” you read on. “‘The following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.’”

Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.

You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. “Please—keep reading,” he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.

You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izuku’s fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.

You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.

“‘Regardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,’” you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.

“Um—‘Although there may be better nonlinear estimators’,” you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.

“Oh my g—uh! It—um—‘It is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,’” you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. “Ah-–Izuku—”

Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.

“Keep going,” he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.

“Extensions—oh—‘Extensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,’” you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izuku’s long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.

“Ah! Oh my god—the—um, the basis—-” you said, breath growing short. Izuku’s fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.

“‘The basis a hidden Markov model—oh, fuck—such that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables have–ah!--Gaussian distributions,’’’ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.

Izuku’s fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.

Still, you tried to refocus your attention.

“‘K–Kalman filtering has been used successfully in—oh—multi-sensor fusion—ah, ah!--and distributed sensor networks–fuck, please, Izuku—to develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,’” you said, your tone nearly a cry.

Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izuku’s hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.

“Please, Izuku,” you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.

The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.

You lost yourself to the feeling—caught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsense—garbled syllables of Izuku’s name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.

Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.

You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting out—and you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.

Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.

You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. “You’re so smart.”

Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izuku’s wild mess of curls as you kissed him.

“Well you are amazing,” you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.

The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.

“I hope you know I learned nothing though,” you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izuku’s flank, tracking towards his waist. “I think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.”

Izuku’s ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. “Maybe you could read it to me this time?” you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.

You settled yourself on the tops of Izuku’s thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.

Izuku’s answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.

It was time to return the favor—wholeheartedly.

REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's the holiday season and Joel is a Scrooge.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, oral sex (m!receiving), SQUIRT, creampie, threats of violence, alcohol

Celia's note: uhm hello??? what the flip thank y'all sm for all the love on my first post!! I got so many requests to make a part 2 so dinner's ready y'all dig in!!!!

Read the first part! > part 1

Jackson looked so pretty this time of year. The Christmas lights, the snowmen, the comfy sweaters and chocolate chip cookies; you loved it all.

Especially gift-giving.

To you, there was really nothing better than seeing someone's face light up when they open a present.

This year, there was someone special you planned to go all out for.

It had been 3 days since Joel Miller fucked you in his house, on his bed.

You hadn't stopped replaying the moment in your mind, especially the part when he finished all over your stomach.

However, it just so happens that after those amazing thirty minutes, Joel was called away by Tommy.

He had to leave and do something that you weren't allowed to know about. Undoubtedly some dangerous mission that pained you to think about.

So your victory was short-lived.

But, like the gentleman he was, he walked you home and made sure you were okay before he left. You wanted to kiss him goodbye, but felt too nervous to do so.

You don't know why—he literally had his cock in you a few moments prior.

Yet you couldn't, and just had to watch him walk away.

Now, you haven't seen him in three days and were starting to get serious withdrawals. Whatever he was up to couldn't have come at a worse time.

You finally had the taste of his perfection, now he was gone, leaving you to deal with your desire alone.

You tried to preoccupy yourself with helping set up all the Christmas decorations around town as well as baking an absurd amount of treats.

You also managed to get him a little gift in the meantime, stuffing it in the cutest box with the prettiest wrapping paper.

God, you hoped he'd come back soon.

And luckily, he did!

You had heard from Maria that everyone had returned from their trip—safe and sound.

She had also told you that she was throwing a little Christmas get-together at her and Tommy's house to celebrate.

She was careful to mention that Joel would be in attendance.

So, that night, you whipped up your signature cinnamon apple recipe and put on your cutest outfit.

You topped it with some fuzzy reindeer antlers because you were in a very festive mood.

As you walked alone to Maria and Tommy's, you were freezing your ass off in your skirt and sweater. You wore tights with your skirt in hopes that it would help with the cold, but who were you kidding?

You didn't care, though. You just cared if Joel thought you looked pretty or not.

You pranced up the steps of their porch, letting yourself into the house and getting immediately bombarded by the hoard of people inside.

Maria made it seem like it was going to be a small thing, but the entire Jackson population seemed to be in her living room.

Thankfully, Tommy catches you come in and walks up to greet you. "Hey there stranger," He grins, looking down at the dish in your hands. "What you got there?"

"Brought desert," You chirp, handing it to him with a proud smile.

"Well well," He muses as he takes the glass container from you, looking it over with surprise. "Didn't think you could tie your own shoes, let alone bake anything."

You roll your eyes before scoffing. "You're just mad because I can tie my shoes and bake something before you can conjure a coherent thought."

Tommy fakes a wince before chuckling. "Alright, touché kid. We're gonna be playing charades in a little bit so stick around, alright?"

You nod, having absolutely no intention of 'sticking around' for charades. Tommy wanders off with your apples, finally giving you a moment to survey the party.

Obviously, you were looking for one person in particular.

You squeezed through all the crowds of people, scouring what felt like every room in the house.

But no dice.

Joel was nowhere to be found and sadness washes over you like a tidal wave.

Was he doing this on purpose?

Torturing you by depriving you of his presence? This was hell.

You plant yourself by the special eggnog and down several glasses to take the edge off.

You were tipsy in no time, it really didn't take much. It was like Maria just dumped an entire bottle of vodka in the bowl and splashed some milk in it. It was disgusting, really, but it was getting its job done.

As you hunched yourself over the bowl, someone tapped you on your shoulder.

You spin around, your hopes high.

"Joel!—Oh. Hi Connor." The disappointment you feel inside displays clearly in your tone.

You're now face to face with the boy who has been unsubtly trying to sleep with you for months.

"Hey there! You look fucking great tonight." He flirts, a smug grin on his face.

You grimace because you know he thinks he's so cool, even though you'd rather die than stand here with him right now.

"Thanks." You say flatly, turning back towards the eggnog and pouring yourself another glass. For some reason, Connor takes this as an invitation to step closer, now invading your space.

You don't even bother trying to hide your disgusted expression. His cologne is attacking your nostrils, and it doesn't even smell good.

"That skirt looks amazing on you." His eyes unabashedly drag along the skin of your legs, making you shiver in disgust. He takes it too far when his hand comes up to brush your arm.

"You come here with anyone?" He coos, leaning against the food table like he was hot shit or something.

You couldn't stand this douche. Just as you were about to tell him to fuck off or something, you feel someone looming over you.

"She did." A gruff voice comes from behind you, and you immediately recognize that it could only be one person.

You whip around, your face lighting up at the sight of Joel.

His expression is settled into a natural scowl, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of you both. Even though he looked scary as shit, he was so fucking hot.

You're instantly horny just at the sight of him.

Connor scoffs, looking between the two of you, but your eyes stayed glued to Joel.

"Really? Him? But he's like—an old man." Connor spits, which immediately earns a glare from you.

Just as you're about to cuss him out, Joel beats you to it.

"Walk away before this old man breaks your jaw." His voice is stern, not to be tested.

It makes your core tighten with need.

Hearing the threat that he assumes to be all too real, Connor doesn't waste time scurrying off.

You turn back towards Joel, a warm, relieved smile spreading across your face. “Hi,” You whisper, wanting to hug him so bad but holding yourself back because he wasn’t a big fan of PDA. “M'so glad you're back." You do, however, step closer into his personal bubble.

His face softens when he finally looks down at you, and you can almost swear you see his lips curling up into a smile.

"Yeah, me too, kid." He husks out, looking between you and the bowl of half-empty eggnog. "Enjoyin' yourself?" He asks with somewhat of a disappointed look on his face, clocking that you were a little tipsy.

"Now I am." You answer truthfully, beaming up at him. "Have you been here the whole time? I was looking for you earlier but I couldn't find you."

Joel shifted on his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Just got here. Tommy was talkin' my ear off at the door." He explained, an exasperated look on his face.

You laughed and nodded, knowing you both shared that experience.

"Are you having a good time, though?" You ask, actually curious because he seemed like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

He shrugs, brushing a hand through his short hair. "This Christmas holiday crap is givin' me a fuckin' aneurysm." He huffs out with complete honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What? Really? Why?" The shock and bewilderment in your voice isn't lost on Joel.

He sighs out, knowing you're about to explain the magical spirit of the season or whatever.

"The blizzards, people spazzin' out over gifts, all 'cause some fat guy is coming down chimneys—s'all just ridiculous."

You want to giggle at how actually annoyed he sounded, but you hold it down.

Grouchy old man.

"I'd let you come down my chimney," you flirt, but then correct yourself. "I have let you come down my—"

Joel shoots you a glare, daring you to finish your sentence.

You know when to cut your losses, so you don't.

"Well, speaking of gifts," You start, rummaging in your bag to pull out your present for him. You hold it up, the pink wrapping paper making him cock an eyebrow. "Merry Christmas, Scrooge."

Joel feels an unfamiliar feeling swimming around in his stomach at the sight.

He slowly takes the box from you, looking at it like it was a puzzle.

He really wasn't expecting anything from you. But he supposed people who have had the other persons genitals inside them should probably give them something for Christmas.

He finds himself very pleasantly surprised.

After a moment, he finds something to say.

"Couldn't find some manlier wrapping paper?" He coughs, his voice low but it's obvious he's joking with you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Just open it!"

Joel somewhat grins at your impatience but finally starts to open the box.

That grin drops off his face after he sees the contents, an immediate bittersweet feeling swelling in his chest.

You're watching his face so intently, so scared that he didn't like it based on his reaction.

Joel pulls out the watch from the box, clutching it tightly. He's not saying anything, so you hear yourself start to ramble.

"Do you like it? I just saw that the watch you wear is broken so I figured I'd get you a new one. If you don't like it I can take it back."

You're starting to crumble underneath the weight of his silence, anxiety bubbling in your gut. Just as you're about to ask him if he's okay, Joel finally looks back at you.

"S'real great. Thank you." His tone is genuine, you can tell he's telling the truth. But why does he look so pained?

"Of course." Your murmur, your eyes searching his. After a moment of silence, you clear your throat. "There's one more thing, actually."

Joel's shoulder slump. "You got me another present?" He asked tiredly, looking at you with disbelief.

A guilty smile paints your face before you gesture for Joel to follow you. "It's upstairs. C'mon."

He doesn't know how much more his heart could handle.

Reluctantly, he follows you up the stairs, wondering why you had a gift waiting for him in Tommy's guest bedroom.

You open the door and close it behind you both, purposefully not turning the lights on.

Joel walks into the center of the room, standing aimlessly and confused as to why you hadn’t flipped the light switch yet.

But then he hears the rustling of clothes and when you eventually turn the lights on, you're wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

His cock immediately gets hard.

"What do ya think you're doin'?" He whisper yells, trying to keep his eyes on your face but that proves to be impossible because your tits looked so good in lace.

"What? You don't like it? I bought it for you." You give him a 360 and he has to brace himself against the bed.

Fuck you looked good.

He sits down on the mattress, dragging a hand down his jaw in thought.

He's debating if he's really about to fuck you in his brother's house.

Why were you always making him go against his morals?

A few seconds of silence pass between the two of you before Joel snaps his eyes back to your figure.

"C'mere."

Got 'em.

You squeal excitedly before running over, slotting yourself between his legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

In turn, his large hands come out to hold your hips, his gaze zeroing in on your perfect-looking cleavage that he was now eye-level with.

Just as he was about to slide his hands up to grope your breasts, you sink down to the floor.

Joel's puzzled as he watches you get on your knees, looking up at him with those mischievous eyes. He truly has no clue what you're up to, that is, until you bring your lips to the bulge in his jeans.

You place the softest kiss on his clothed hard-on, earning a groan from him.

Now he knows what you're trying to do.

He juts his hand out, holding you firm by your shoulder.

"You ain't gotta do that, sweetheart." Joel says softly, probably the softest you've ever heard him say anything.

Your body erupts in goosebumps when you hear the endearing pet name slip so effortlessly from his lips.

"I want to—been wanting to since, like, forever." You murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his inner thigh.

Joel wasn't sure what to think right now.

His past romantic experiences taught him that blowjobs were a hassle for women—something that they did only if they felt they had to.

But here you were, looking up at him with those wide eyes and wanting nothing more than his dick in your mouth.

You surprise him everyday.

His dick has literally never been harder, especially when you finally start unzipping his pants to let it spring free.

You gaze up at him again, waiting for his green light.

Joel had one hand white-knuckling the edge of the bed, while the other gently caressed the side of your head.

He offers a short nod of approval, already trying not to come just by the sight of his cock so close to your face.

You waste absolutely no time in grabbing the base of his dick with both hands, gingerly licking at his tip to warm him up.

Joel throws his head back, groaning at the feeling.

You tilt it up so you can drag your tongue all the way up his shaft, then bring your mouth down on his tip.

"Fuck," Joel curses, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back open, not being able to look away from you.

Tears are falling from your eyes the farther you go down on him, the sensation of his head poking the back of your throat was making you dizzy.

But you don't stop. You're eager to please.

Your hands pump at the length you can't reach, while your warm mouth and tongue swirl around him.

You're too good at this, and Joel knows he's not gonna last long.

He can't help it when his hand in your hair turns into a fist, tightly gripping the strands like he was afraid you might go somewhere.

You moan when he accidentally pulls your hair forwards, forcing you deep on his cock. You bet he didn't even realize what he just did, based on the way his chest was heaving and his face looked so lost in pleasure.

You gag and more tears spill from your eyes, but you don't even dream about lifting off. If Joel was getting off on this, you were going to do more of it.

You moan, still keeping his cock in your mouth as you try to go even deeper down on it.

"Oh fuck—" Joel suddenly yanks your mouth off his cock, breathing heavily as he stares down at you.

You cough and sputter at the loss, looking up at him with that same fucked out expression you had last time.

"Why?" You manage to whine, wondering why he stopped you before he came.

Joel doesn't answer—instead he picks you up by your armpits and places you on the bed.

The quick change almost gives you whiplash, but Joel's surprisingly steady and husky voice guides you.

"On your stomach, pretty girl." He mutters as he taps your leg in a gesturing manner.

...Was he trying to kill you with that bedroom voice of his?

A whimper crawls its way out of your throat, your body having an audible reaction to his sweet words.

You flip over onto your stomach, instantly arching your back for him.

Being the impatient man he was, he rips your panties and throws them to the side in a lust-driven blur.

You literally didn't even care. Sure, they were new, but you'd just find another pair. The only two thoughts in your mind right now was Joel and Joel's dick.

Something warm and soft prods at your entrance before slipping to wedge between your folds, gathering up your slick.

You try to push back on it, but Joel holds you still, making you lose the rest of the small amount of composure you had left.

"Joelpleasefuckme," You sob, your cunt weeping for his cock. "need you so bad it hurts,"

You reach back, your hand finding his that was holding your hip and squeezing it.

Joel didn't want to admit to himself how much he loved the neediness in your voice, your obvious desperation made him harder.

"M'gettin' there, don't gotta beg me baby." He mutters, his hand that you grabbed intertwining with your fingers. His other hand was rubbing circles in the skin around your hips.

You feel that same sensation of his tip, but then Joel also brings his chest down to engulf your back.

You're already trembling, but when he begins to pepper kisses down the nape of your neck and back, all while slowly sheathing himself inside your pussy...

You effectively lose your mind.

"OhFUCKJoelloveitsomuch," You blabber, not having enough strength to hold yourself up anymore so your head drops into a pillow, muffling your moans.

Effortlessly, he pulls you back up so that your back is flush with his chest, his one arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you secure.

You rest the back of your head on his shoulder as she starts rocking into you, letting your body go limp because you know he's got you.

"Can you take it or do I need'a stop?" He asks, his tone making you dizzier.

You frantically nod, turning your head to the side to look at him. "I can take it, promise I can," you muster out between moans. "please don't stop—want your cock in me forever-"

Joel chuckles.

God, he really never stood a chance against you.

"I don't know about forever sweet thing, but I'll see what I can do for tonight, yeah?"

You giggle airily, like you weren't all there, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Your eyes are closed for a second but you feel his lips on yours, hungrily taking whatever they wanted.

You passionately return his kiss, mewling into it because his lips paired with the slow thrust of his dick was enough to drive you crazy.

The stretch of his cock is as close to heaven as you're ever gonna get.

His speed picks up which means your moans get louder, and Joel has no choice put to bring his other hand up and cover your mouth.

There's still a party going on downstairs, after all.

"Gotta be quieter baby," he pants, even though he's not slowing down his speed at all.

You whine into his hand, surprisingly loving the feeling of it because it's like he's swallowing you whole.

You feel that tight coil in your stomach slowly start to come undone, and you know you won't last long now. You try to tell Joel, but his hand is muffling your noises.

All the sudden, he speaks in your ear—his voice low and raspy. "Don't want you doin' this with anyone else, hear me?"

...Well.

You weren't expecting that.

His words probably made you soak the sheets because of how wet you became.

He sounded so stern when he said it too, making your heart flutter even more.

You nod, tears pouring from your eyes. He lets his hand off your mouth for a moment and you immediately jump at the opportunity to speak.

"Only want you, only ever wanted you, Joel—m'all yours, always been yours," You mewl after gasping for air, your body jolting with each of his deep thrusts.

"Fuck," Joel swears, quickly but carefully putting you down only to flip you over onto your back. Now in missionary, he buries himself all the way inside you again before dropping down so your faces are centimeters apart. "All mine, huh?" Joel reiterates, and you can't tell if he's mocking you or maybe asking for clarification.

Probably the ladder.

You agree nonetheless, a string of yes's spilling from your mouth.

"Yeah, just for me." He pants, slamming into you with more vigor than before. Your cunt is constricting around him like a vice, he's—not planning to last much longer either.

"M'gonna cum," you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

When Joel hears this, he drops a hand down to rub at your clit, making you come undone altogether.

"Ohfuckohfuckohfuck waitwait Joel-" You feel something..unique boiling, but then Joel's expert fingers release the flood gates.

You scream as you squirt all over his cock, your entire body writhing with the overstimulating pleasure.

Your juices soak him. When he see's this, he comes immediately.

He groans as he finishes inside you, unloading into your snug cunt. The feeling is incomparable for the both of you.

Once the haze of perfect pleasure dissipates, Joel realizes what he's just done.

"Shit," he grits, pulling out and watching his seed drip from your hole. "Fuck."

You manage to sit up on your elbows, looking up at him with teary eyes. "Don't worry," Your voice is quiet and cracked—you just had the squirt fucked out of you, after all. "I've been on the pill since we had sex the first time."

Joel looks down at you, stupefied.

Eventually, he feels his heart start beating again and huffs out a sigh of relief. "Thank christ." He leans back against the headboard, raking a hand through his hair and thinking about how that was a fucking close one.

You're lying next to him, still trying to catch your breath. "That felt so good," You manage to murmur, your body still shivering from the after shocks.

After you catch your breath, you turn your head to look up at him. "M'serious about what I said, about bein' yours."

He looks at you and your serious face for a moment, then brings his hand down to gently ruffle the top of your head.

"Yeah, I know you are." His texan drawl prominent.

"I'd let you brand me with a fire poker if thats what you wanted." You say flatly, no joking tone in your voice whatsoever.

Joel is taken back by the sudden jump in intensity, assessing you to make sure you were being for real.

You were, and when he realizes this, he shakes his head. "You've lost your damn mind." He grunts, dragging a hand down his face.

You shrug.

"I think a ring would do the trick." Joel mutters, not meaning for it to have some kind of underlying message or anything. But you're quick to jump to conclusions.

"A ring?" You squeal, moving to lay on his chest which earns a huff from him. "Didn't know we were already goin' steady like that, Miller!" You tease, the giddiest smile on your face.

"I didn't mean—quit. You know what I was sayin'." Joel grunts, looking at you with an unamused expression.

You don't quit though.

"My ring finger is a size 6, would love 2 carats but if you can swing for 3 that would be perfect—also, I hate silver bands, it has to be gold—but make sure it's not that super yellow fake gold, I like more rustic looks, I mean, if that wasn't obvious-" You cast him a glance, alluding to the fact that he was rustic looking.

Joel rolls his eyes before gently nudging you off him, getting off the bed and walking over to your clothes that you discarded a long time ago.

You continue rambling from your position on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling as you recited, in extreme detail, how you loved oval shaped diamonds the most.

He walks back over and manhandles you to sit up. "Lift up your arms." He mutters, putting your sweater back on you.

"Hm, gettin' some serious deja vu right now." You murmur, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, yeah, hush." He grumbles before sliding your tights and skirt back on as well.

The act is so kind and heartwarming. You mumble a thank you before standing up, almost falling back down because your legs were still a bit weak.

Joel made a motion like he would've caught you, reaching his arms out. "Careful." He warns, planting a hand on your lower back for stability. You giggle and nod, regaining your ability to walk slowly but surely.

You guys tried to discretely walk back down the stairs, but with Joel's hand on your back and your happy expression--it wasn't hard for people to guess what happened.

***

A couple days had passed since Tommy and Maria's party.

You were finishing up some hand-made Christmas cards on your desk when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming!" You shout, leisurely making your way to the front door.

When you open it, no one's there. You look around, only seeing a familiar male figure walking away in the distance. When you step outside to shout after him, you feel yourself kick something.

Upon looking down, a small velvet box lays at your feet.

You pick it up carefully, opening it to reveal a gold ring placed so delicately inside. The small note inside reads:

Merry Christmas. -Scrooge

[dollishmehrayan]

# HOW BATBOYS REACT TO YOU WEARING THEY'RE COLOR ── .✦ ( eg. nails, clothes, anything ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so I first did a small idea of this (here) and then I thought why not do it based off this anon (here) so yeahh, anyways I kinda fell so off course like genuinely I need to make more batboys content, tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick notices instantly. He’s hyper-aware of the blue.

“Wait, are those nails painted Nightwing blue? Babe, did you do that for me?” Cue the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

Compliments you non-stop. He’s not subtle about how much he loves it.

“You’re really pulling off my color, you know. Almost makes me think you’re trying to steal my spotlight.”

Gets extra touchy holding your hand, brushing your hair back, etc. “You’re so cute I can’t even deal right now.”, “It’s just blue and black colored nails dick.”

If it’s a clothing piece, he’ll joke, “Matching outfits for day? Say the word, and we’ll be Gotham’s most fashionable duo.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason notices but plays it cool at first. “Nice color choice,” he says casually, though he’s dying and resurrecting inside.

If it’s your nails “You’re carrying my whole brand on those hands. Should I start paying you royalties?”

If it’s clothing, “Careful, babe, wearing red this well might make you a target and you might be mistaken for me.” But his smirk shows he’s all for it.

Low-key proud you’re repping his colors but doesn’t know how to express it well. Might just stare a little longer than usual.

Ends up pulling you closer while murmuring, “You look good in my color. Too good.”

Secretly starts thinking of ways to return the gesture, like wearing something in your favorite color. (He’s hoping it’s not absurd neon colors😭)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Blushes immediately. He’s not even subtle about it. “Wait… is that red because of… me?”

Obsesses over the details. “Did you match your nails to the exact shade of my suit? That’s, like, the coolest thing ever.”

Super flustered but also unbelievably touched. “I didn’t know you liked my colors that much.”

If it’s a clothing item, he’d be stunned for a moment before saying, “You look so… wow. You’re killing it.”

Gets a little shy but can’t stop glancing at you all day. Ends up fiddling with your hand if it’s your nails.

Might text you later "Thanks for making my day with that. You didn’t have to, but I really, really loved it.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Notices instantly but acts unimpressed. “Hmph. So you’re inspired by me today?”

Low-key thrilled but refuses to let you know. If it’s your nails, he might sarcastically say, “Subtle.” But he’s secretly staring.

If it’s clothing, “Green suits you. Perhaps you should wear it more often.” It’s his way of saying you look amazing.

After some time, he’ll let his walls down. “It’s not awful… You look better in my colors than I do.”

Will absolutely brag to Alfred or the others about it later. “Clearly, they understand quality when they see it.”

Ends up gifting you something else in his colors—maybe a scarf or bracelet—just to see you wear it again.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce notices immediately but doesn’t say much at first. He’ll just give you that classic Bruce Wayne smirk.

If it’s clothing, he’ll subtly comment, “You look good in black. Suits you.” (High praise from him)

If it’s nails, he’ll gently take your hand and examine them. “Interesting choice. Are you sending a message, or…?”

Deep down, he’s really touched but doesn’t know how to express it. Might make a dry joke like, “So you’re my sidekick now?”

Later, when you’re alone, he’d admit, “It’s nice seeing you in something that reminds me of… us.”

Low-key loves the idea of you wearing his colors often. He’d never say it outright, but his actions like buying you more black and yellow pieces make it clear (to a point half your dresses were either black or yellow even you’re gold jewelry has yellow hints and accents😭😭)

[street-smarts00]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 

WC: 1.8k

Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)

Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 

This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 

What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 

You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 

You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 

While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 

He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 

“Are you at least winning?” 

He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 

That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 

Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 

Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 

“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 

JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 

“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 

JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 

He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 

“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 

Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 

You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 

“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 

Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?

You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.

“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.

When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 

Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 

“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.

Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 

“Did you paint this?” He asked.

You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 

A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 

“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 

The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 

“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 

“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 

The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 

The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 

You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 

Not that he had to know you loved him. 

He didn’t know that. Right? 

As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 

You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 

“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 

You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.

“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 

He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 

You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”

“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”

His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 

He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.

“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”

You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“

“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 

“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 

“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”

”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  

The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.

”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 

While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 

“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”

“But, that was three months ago.”

He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”

Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 

“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 

You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 

His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.

He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 

Your heart damn near stopped. 

“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 

“I’d love to,” you beamed. 

His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 

You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”

“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 

God he was cute. 

“That sounds great.”

[burrowdarling]

A Magical Surprise

Summary: You plan a trip with your little family to Disney, but you have a magical surprise for Joe of your own. Requested by this anon!

Pairings: dad!Joe Burrow x mom!reader

Warnings: none, some Disney adventure fluff, Joe having major dad energy, pregnancy announcement

Note: Hi! Thank you to the anon who requested this. Some good ole tooth-rotting fluff after all the spice I've written recently. I think this turned out cute, and I somewhat proofread it (oops). Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You and Joe had talked at length about taking your little family on a getaway. The two of you as a couple hadn’t taken a trip since you had your son, aside from going to see Joe play. It took a bit of time for you to get to that point and were only able to travel to so many games. Your son had not taken a trip outside of Joe’s games before either, having both of your families local was a blessing. After some planning and brainstorming, the two of you decided what better place to take him than Disney. He was at that age where he was able to go on the rides and actually enjoy it as well as you and Joe getting to bask in some memories while he was little. Everything was still so new to him in his little world, that being able to bring his favorite characters to life would be an amazing sight to see.

In the days leading up to the trip, you had been feeling somewhat off. You hadn’t thought too much of it, but there were some similarities to the symptoms you had felt when you were pregnant with your son. You decided to play it safe and take a pregnancy test before you traveled. Sure as shit, the small plus sign popped up fairly quickly and confirmed your suspicions. You were so excited, having discussed before that it felt like the right time to try for baby #2. It was eating at you that you hadn't told him yet but had the perfect idea planned out to surprise him during your trip. 

You were able to play how you were feeling off to Joe by saying how you must’ve gotten a little bit of something from work, but how you knew you’d be feeling better in time. He seemed wary, but took your word for it, doting on you for anything you asked for. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay mamas, gotta be feeling well so you can enjoy our trip” Joe would say, bringing you crackers and seltzer to settle your stomach. Little did he know, it was your morning sickness hitting you in full force. You couldn’t wait to tell him.

Your flight was a breeze, your son sleeping the entire way like a saint. It gave you and Joe some time to catch up and just talk. It was so nice getting to reconnect together with no other worries to bother you while you’re in the air. Being married to a star had its perks, having taken a private flight meant no needing to wait around in an airport full of strangers and a smooth arrival, avoiding baggage claim and a car waiting for you. Joe loaded in all of your bags while you got your son settled into his carseat, making your way from the tarmac to the hotel. 

After a long day of travel, you got your son to settle down to bed somewhat easily. You were laid in in the hotel king bed when Joe came in from 

You got up bright and early the next day, hoping to beat the rush of the crowd. You’d also hoped you wouldn’t be bothered, having the fast pass as well as going during an off peak time. Your son's face had lit up with excitement the moment he got inside the gates, wondering what someone as small as he was must’ve been thinking about everything around him. His entire childhood was right before his eyes.

“I wanna go on dumbo” he exclaimed, about to take off before Joe reached out to scoop him up into his arms, a fit of giggles ensuing.

“Not so fast little man, this isn’t like the park at home we got to keep you close by. We can go on Dumbo, let’s go get in line” Joe said after he got him to settle enough to listen, his little arms flailing with elation at his dad’s word. You look at your two boys with a warm feeling in your chest, knowing today was the day you were going to tell him he was 

After quite a few rides, it was getting to be lunch time. You could tell that your boys were hungry, knowing you’d need to stop for food soon if you were gonna keep at it for the rest of the day. Your little boy was starting to get a little hangry, ready to throw a tantrum when he was told to wait for his mouse ears hat he wanted. You assured him he would get it, after he got some much needed food in his belly. That was, until you realized this was the perfect opportunity for your reveal idea.

“Hey hun, would you be able to grab us some lunch? I’ll wait for the hat to get made and meet you both at the table” you said, silently hoping he would abide by your request. The food court wasn’t far from the stand, knowing he could keep an eye on you from a close distance.

“Sure thing, want your go-to?” he asked, your boy in his arms resting on his side. You nodded, giving him a kiss of approval before he walked off to get some lunch. You exhaled a breath you didn;t realize you were holding in, knowing this would be a big moment for you two.

You got to talking with the park employee that was working the stand, explaining your idea to her and gushing over how cute it was going to be. You were going to have your son’s name stitched into the front of the hat. On the back, you had her add in “Big Brother”, letting the reveal come from the little hat on your son's head. She got it back to you fairly quickly, the sight of it beginning tears to your eyes from how happy this life has made you. 

You were excited to be growing your family with the man of your dreams, snapping yourself out of your thoughts to compose yourself. You were making your way to your family when your heart melted all over again. Joe and your son were sitting at a picnic bench, your son trying his hardest to reach the table on his own from the bench seat, but being lifted up by Joe to be sat on his lap. He seemed perfectly content with the new seat, easily able to reach his food on his own. 

Joe looked up at you as you approached the table, a big grin across his face when you sat down. Your son had matched his energy, eyes lighting up when he saw you with the ears in hand.

“Hey mamas, we got you some chicken tenders and fries” Joe said while your son had cut him off “those are your favorite, mine too” he said as he reached over to take some of your fries with his little hands. You laughed as he did so, pushing the small tray closer so that he could reach. 

“I got your hat for you sweetheart, we can put it on after we eat. What ride do you wanna go on next?” you asked, hoping to keep his immediate focus off of the hat clutched in your hands. He placed his index finger on his chin, tapping as if he was deep in thought. He pointed his finger straight up with a look of surprise on his face when he must've made his decision.

“I wanna see Mickey Minnie castle” he cheered happily. You couldn’t say no, even if that was on the other side of the park from where you were currently. You and Joe exchanged looks, knowing one of you was going to be carrying him not too long into your walk.

As you got closer to the castle, your son was itching to walk. He looked absolutely adorable with his little ears on, seeing the secret stitched onto the back as you walked close behind your boys. You snapped a quick picture as they walked up to the castle, knowing this would be a memory you wouldn’t want to forget. 

When you reached the castle, you asked one of the many photographers around to get a photo of the three of you. The photographer snapped a couple of shots, thanking her and moving on before you made your move towards the reveal. 

“Joe why don’t you flip his ears around, I think there was something on the back” you said nonchalantly as you stepped away from him. He tilted his head in confusion, but listened to your words. You watched as he slipped the elastic band from under your son’s chin and turned the back to the front, pausing to read the words in front of him. 

Joe turned his head slowly towards you as he processed the words “Big Brother” on your son's head. He seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he spoke up.

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant again?” his voice hopeful as you saw tears begin to well in his eyes. You gave him a small nod as tears started to come up for you too. Joe took a few steps over to you with your son in his arms as he embraced you in as tight of a hug he could muster.

“I’m so damn happy baby, how long have you known?” Joe questioned, his voice full of adoration from the news. 

“Not too long, it’s the whole reason I haven’t been feeling well. It’s been the hardest secret I’ve had to keep, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you” you laughed lightly, watching him process and a realization cross his face.

“I knew you couldn’t have gotten something from work that fast. God, I’m so excited I get to go through all of this with you, this was such a cute way to tell me even though I wish I knew sooner so I could’ve been there for you more” he set your son down, giving you a one-armed squeeze while your son grabbed onto your leg.

“Everything you did and still do for me is perfect. You’re an amazing dad to our little boy and I can’t wait to see how you handle one more little boy or girl” you said, giving him a kiss to add a finality to your words.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping for a girl so we both can have our own little minis?” Joe asked while lifting your son onto his shoulders to give him a good view.

“I just know you would be an amazing girl dad if it’s anything like how you treat me” you said, imagining Joe with your daughter and knowing how much he would spoil her.

“If I treat you like my queen, I would treat her like my princess,” he said as you all looked up at the castle in front of you. Your life felt like a fairytale that you got to live with your dream man.

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 20: Massage

Today, you get to give your boss a nice massage. I hope you enjoy it, she will.

Length 1.9K

Solar X Mreader

You come home, sighing after another day of work; as soon as you’re through the door, you head to your bed and collapse. Your body aches; you’ve spent the day running around trying to support your boss, Solar. You drift off to sleep. There were a million things you wanted to do, but sleep took over, and you awakened the following day. You shower and get dressed before heading off to work. When you get to your desk, you see a note from Solar; you groan, imagining what she could possibly want at this time. You pick the note up and read it, “Hey, I’ve seen you working pretty hard these past few weeks. As thanks for all your work I’m sending you to a resort. Enjoy your paid time off. The stuff for your trip is in the top left drawer.” You crack a smile, happy that it wasn’t more work. You open the drawer, and much like she said, it’s there, along with all the other information you need. You notice the flight is tomorrow. You work hard and finish the day before packing at home. In the early morning of the next day, you're on a flight, and by one p.m., you’re at the resort. 

It’s not until you’re making your way to your room that you notice that you haven’t seen a man there at all. Every worker and guest you saw was a woman; they were beautiful women. Stepping into your room, you find a note in the middle of your bed. You lay down and grab it, “Out by the pool is a special reward for you.” The message had lipstick on it; you begin to consider why Solar would do that when you realize this trip might just be work. You sigh and change into a pair of swim trunks before heading to the pool, where you spot her. Solar was lounging by the pool, wearing a tight blue bikini. Despite wearing a wide-brim straw hat and sunglasses, you could immediately tell it was Solar. She seems to be aware of your presence, too, as she lifts her head and turns toward you. She waves you over. You sigh before walking over to your boss. 

She smiles at you, “Hey there, welcome to my resort. What do you think?” You stay silent and stare at Solar; she could be insufferable sometimes.  

You look her over quickly as you speak, “Was it really necessary to make me think this was a vacation?” You ask, noting the way her bikini clung to her, hugging her modest chest and the high waist bottoms, making her beautiful legs look longer. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed. You’re here with me.” That wasn’t something that excited you, even if Solar was wearing a bikini. You just knew she would want you to take care of things while you were here. Seeing her in a bikini was a change of pace, though. The only time you had seen more skin from her was when you walked in on her changing; while it was something that you couldn’t get out of your head, it was also something that didn’t make up for the work she had you do. Solar smiles and takes off her straw hat, placing it on the lounge chair beside her. She adjusts her hair, making an effort to show off the sides of her tits. 

Solar pulls on your arm, having you come closer to her. “Oh wow, you’ve gotten so strong. You could use these hands for something nice, and I know just the thing.” Solar holds onto your arm, reaching to the small table beside her and grabbing a bottle of oil. “You wouldn’t mind helping me with this, would you?” You already know she’s just asking to sound polite. She wouldn’t let you refuse. 

She places the bottle in your hand and turns onto her stomach. You glance at her full ass, getting hard as you see the piece of flesh shake as she adjusts herself. You try to focus on the task at hand and cover your hands in the oil, pouring some on her back as well. “Oh wait, let me get this off.” Solar blurts out just as you’re about to begin. She unhooks her bikini top and places her hands back at her side. You see her breasts bulge outward as she lays flat. You begin at the top, massaging the oil into her skin; your rough grip and the pressure you apply make Solar squeak out soft moans.

Listening to her moan keeps your cock hard; your boss was moaning because of you. You move down Solar's back, kneading it and making her moans continue. Your cock twitched each time she moaned, and the longer you stared at her body, the more you wanted her. Solar glances at you, noticing the hungry look in your eyes. “Why don’t you get my legs too?” You stop, looking at her legs before nodding. Starting at the bottom, you slowly make your way up her calves and to her thighs; you listen to Solar hum in approval as she feels your hands squeeze her thighs. “Oh, that feels so good. Keep going.” Solar moves her legs apart slightly, her breathing getting heavy as she gives you another order. “Make sure to get every part.” You take a deep breath as you move to her inner thigh, your fingers rubbing against her clothed slit. Solar moans, refusing to hide her voice as she feels your hand rub against her. You move up, kneading her ass and making her moan as you massage her. Solar’s flesh jiggles once you let go, settling slowly. You’re getting harder, beginning to imagine fucking your boss.

Solar continues to glance at you before finally deciding to make another move. She takes off her sunglasses and moves onto her side, denying you a look at her breast by using her arm to cover herself. Solar stares at your hard-on and smirks, “Is that for me? Are you going to give me another kind of massage?” She says in a teasing voice. As you try to explain away your bulge, Solar moves onto her back. “Get my back, will you?” She moves her hand away from your chest, revealing her small tits to you. You watch as your boss moves her hands to her bikini bottom, taking them off and throwing them away. She wasn’t bothered being naked in front of you at all. “Well? Get started.” You pour the tanning oil onto Solar’s stomach, kneading it into her skin, moving from the center outward. She coos as she feels your hands move upward to ward her breasts. You try to avoid them, but she grabs your hands and moves them up. “Don’t be afraid; I need you to help me.” You knead her breast, listening to her moans yet again. You’re at full mast as you're touching your boss’s breasts. Solar can feel herself getting wet, enjoying your touch. Once you’re done, you begin to move down her body, covering the front of her powerful thighs.

The young woman reaches for your hands again, “I think you’re forgetting a spot.” She says, moving your hands to her inner thigh, right by her cunt. YOu nod and begin to massage Solar’s legs again, glancing at her perfectly shaven cunt. Your hand grazed her slit, making her coo, “Oh, that’s it. Right there.” You rub your hands against her slit, making Solar moan. You wanted to fuck her; it was the only thought in your head as you she moaned your name.

Solar smiles and reaches for your shorts as your hand runs across her slit; she moans your name louder as she feels you push a finger into her slit. Returning the favor as quickly as she can, Solar pulls your shorts down and runs her hand along your hard cock. You both moan, attracting the attention of the other guests. “Don’t think about them; this is normal here.” Solar tells you as she rubs her palm against the tip of your cock. She grinds against your hand, wanting you to go deeper, and her moans get louder. You mouse your other hand to grope her breasts, kneading them. Solar arches her back, reveling in the pleasure. 

She could feel the precum staining her hand and stopped stroking your cock to taste it; she hummed happily, licking her lips before pulling you in closer and swallowing your cock. The pleasure becomes too much for you to focus on fingering Solar, and you pull your fingers out, grabbing her head instead and pushing her against your pelvis. Your boss takes you easily, your cock ramming the back of her throat as she bobs her head. Her tongue runs from side to side as she bobs her head. Solar was not going to let you go; she moved her hands to your thighs, grabbing them as she sucked your cock. Your cock began to throb because of her, you were reaching your climax, and she didn’t care. Just as you were about to warn her, you cum, filling her mouth with your semen. She gags as her mouth fills up but quickly recovers, taking every drop from you. Solar pulls away slowly, opening her mouth with a smile as she shows you your cum. She swallows your cum, showing you a now empty mouth before dragging you onto the lounge chair.

Solar straddles you, grinding herself against your cock. “Mmm, fuck.” She groans. Solar places her hands on your chest, rubbing it as she feels your cock throb against her slit. “Let’s get down to business.” Solar raises herself, grabbing your cock and pressing it against her entrance. She coos, lowering herself onto your cock. “Oh, that’s it.” She moans, continuing to lower herself onto your cock. You grab Solar’s waist and drag her down, completely engrossed by the pleasure you’re getting from her tight cunt. You lean in and kiss her neck, leaving marks on her as she begins bouncing on your cock. Solar holds you against her as she moves along your shaft. You squeeze her ass, kneading the soft flesh and making Solar’s moans grow even louder. You lift and drop Solar onto your cock, reveling in the feeling of her cunt tightening around your cock. “Oh, fuck,” Solar groans, feeling your cock impale her. 

Your grip tightens, and Solar’s moans grow louder as she feels your nails dig into her flesh. You begin slamming your boss down on your cock, her pink walls clamping down around your cock as you begin to reach your climax. Solar holds you tightly, whining as she feels herself about to cum. “Solar, I’m cumming,” You groan as your cock begins to throb inside her. 

“Cum inside me! Do it!” You slam Solar down onto your cock, filling your boss with your cum. Something you never even thought about. Solar’s nails scratch your back as her body shudders from the pleasure; her climax hits her hard, making her run out of breath. “Oh shit,” she groans, feeling her pussy become full. “I think I’m going to need some more from you,” she smirks. “Let’s go back to your room.” You hold onto Solar’s ass as you lift her, carrying her to your room, every step causing your cock to move inside the young woman. Solar groans, holding onto you with a smile as you pass guests along your way to your room.

[cherienymphe]

Suburbia X

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, blackmail, voyeurism, stalking, breeding kink, eventual violence, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland

➥ series masterlist

~

“Thanks for coming.”

That was what you finally said to Peter after you both had been sitting on your couch for what felt like hours. In truth, it was only about ten minutes, but the silence was so tense and heavy—and you were so nervous and terrified of the young man in front of you—that the time didn’t pass normally in your mind.

Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and without them he looked beyond only twenty-three. Or maybe that was all in your head. Maybe the reveal of his true character and nature made him seem so much more intimidating…and in turn, older. His dark curls framed his face as he gazed at you, patiently waiting for you to say what he was no doubt eagerly waiting to hear.

“Well…” he ran his eyes over your face. “Over the phone I asked if this was about our talk, and you said sort of, so naturally I became curious.”

You nodded at that, glancing away from him and taking in the silence of your house. Your girls were asleep, and you envied them in this moment. You envied their innocence and their complete ignorance of what was going on around them and their own part in it. You would never in a million years tell them what you were about to put yourself through just to protect them and their quality of life, but you hoped they’d grow up to understand the lengths you would go to for them.

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“I wanted to tell you face to face that you were right,” you finally said, looking at him.

Peter’s face was hard to read, but there was a noticeable glint in his dark eyes that made your heart stutter. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he straightened, and it made him appear taller. You felt so small and insignificant beneath his gaze, and you desperately tried to remember what you were doing and why you were doing it. Peter had seamlessly shifted the power dynamic—and in the worst way possible—and you desperately needed to have the upperhand again.

“When I chose to be a single mom…I did it with no regrets and because it was genuinely what I wanted.”

Peter leaned in a bit, and you spoke up.

“...and so…determined to prove something, I think that I never even really considered the possibility of more. Of more helping hands, of more comforting figures in their lives, of more…love that could be given to my girls,” you continued, looking between his eyes. “...and me.”

Peter wasn’t saying anything, and you felt a stab of panic, wondering if he saw through you.

“You were right. You are so good to them…and me, and it’s terrifying not only because it’s new but also because it’s you.”

You abruptly stood, turning away from him.

“You’re so much younger and I hired you and Peter, you have to understand,” your voice cracked as you stared at the wall. “You have to understand how I’m feeling because this makes me look and feel like some predator, like-.”

You cut yourself off when familiar hands took your arms, forcing you to face him, and you watched the way Peter’s expression softened with one look at your face.

“I know that I said some unkind things, but this situation is very tricky and scary and has the potential to really change my life in a way that can’t be undone or at the very least not for years and years to come-.”

“I know that,” he whispered, finally speaking again. “Trust me, I understand-.”

“You say that, but if this doesn’t work out, you're not the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout. Do you truly understand how people will see me? It doesn’t matter that this was reciprocated. Cougar will be one of the nicer words I’ll be referred to as…”

Your words died in your throat as Peter gently shushed you, one hand coming up to graze your now tearful cheek. The way he looked at you told you that he believed everything you were saying, but you couldn’t be sure. He leaned in a tad, and on instinct, you turned your face away. Your gaze lowered to focus on the floor, and you felt Peter’s breath on your face as he sighed.

“No. You’re not the kind of woman to just jump into something like this, and I should have known that,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “I should’ve known that you would panic and freak out and follow your initial instinct of rejecting this in every way you can.”

The younger man rubbed your arms, hands gently sliding up and down over the fabric of your sleeves, and you shuddered.

“You’re smart about things, and it’s why I love you,” he murmured, making your stomach churn. “I should have thought about that, gone about this differently.”

You finally met his gaze, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he looked at you. It reminded you of that night—or what you could remember from it, anyway—and the morning after and the day at the restaurant. One of his hands tightened on your arm, and you swallowed at the position you put yourself in.

“...but you don’t understand what you do to me,” Peter chuckled.

It was light, and his teeth winked at you, and his eyes gleamed in a way that terrified you. It didn’t matter what you believed because Peter believed he was in love with you and was the one for you and was the best father for your girls. His mind was made up, and you felt that you should’ve accepted as such when he went through such great lengths to back you into a corner.

He handled this whole ordeal like a man with nothing to lose, and you supposed that in a way, that was true. In this scenario, you were the one with way more to lose. If this ever got out, you would be the villain in this story, and it was something that Peter had so eloquently thrown in your face.

“I don’t think I can say I regret confronting you like I did at the restaurant,” he confessed, his thumb brushing along your lip. “...but believe it or not, I didn’t take pleasure in putting things into perspective for you like that.”

So that was what he was calling it.

“I don’t take pleasure in hurting you in any way, even if it is only making you uncomfortable for a short while, but I needed to make you understand. Understand what you mean to me and what I would do to have you.”

When his lips gently brushed along yours, you let him kiss you.

“You don’t even know the things I would do for you—the things I have done for you,” he whispered into the kiss, and you couldn’t stop your form from trembling.

Peter noticed, and he made a humming noise.

“There are a lot of things for you to fear in this world, but now that we see eye to eye, I’ll never be one of them.”

You felt tears kiss your eyes as he tried to kiss you again, but spoke, effectively halting his movements.

“It’s not you I’m afraid of, Peter.”

A lie.

He seemed to understand what you were getting at, and he chuckled again. The dark-haired man pulled back some to gaze at you like you were so silly, and you hated how boyish that smile made him.

“You’re it for me, Y/N. Don’t you get that? Hmm?”

He held your gaze with his own dark one.

“Whatever comes of this, you’ll never have to doubt my loyalty. I’m going to be by your side when things inevitably progress into something more public, and I will make sure that whatever those…” he took a deep breath, lip curling over his teeth. “...women put you through, it will be worth it.”

His brows drew together as he fought to make you believe his words.

“I swear to you, now that it won’t hold a candle to coming home to me everyday. I’m going to make you so happy that whatever they have to say won’t mean a thing to you.”

Peter kissed you again then, deeply inhaling.

“I’m not going anywhere…”

You knew that those words—if nothing else—were true, and that was what you hated.

You stood with your arms around yourself as you watched Peter bring a suitcase into the house. You had prepared yourself for this, anticipating by all of his actions so far that Peter was not one to take things slow. Or at least, he didn’t want to take things slowly with you. Besides, if you were going to get your hands on every copy of that tape he possibly had, then you needed to be up under each other’s noses.

You needed him to be comfortable enough to bring his things—his laptop—into your house and not spare your proximity a second thought. When he caught your eye, you gave him a gentle smile, and while he was slow to return it, he eventually did. You took your time in nearing him.

“I know how nervous this makes you,” he told you, and he reached for your face. “It’s okay. We’ll be discreet for a while, and I’ll gradually make myself at home, and when the time is right…”

He trailed off, a secretive smile dancing on his lips at the thought of going public with you one day.

“Thank you,” you finally replied. “You don’t even understand how much that puts me at ease, Peter. Especially since I know how difficult this is for you.”

The look he gave you encouraged you to elaborate, and so you did.

“While I might not completely understand it just yet, you do love me, and it can’t be easy hiding a relationship with someone you care about so much.”

You noticed the way his face fell a bit at that, and you reached out to rest your hand on his arm.

“I don’t doubt that you want to navigate like any other couple in the world, but you’re being considerate of me and how this will affect me, and it means a lot.”

You stepped closer, and you watched Peter’s eyes drink in the action.

“You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him.

At that, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you played with the fabric of his sweater.

“...and I’m sorry that I let my fear and panic prevent me from seeing that before.”

You watched him take a deep breath, dark eyes still trained on you.

“It’s okay,” he quietly told you. “I forgive you for that, you don’t have to…”

He shook his head.

“Don’t apologize for it.”

You took his hand, and Peter was eager in threading his fingers through yours. He pulled you along up the stairs to unpack, and you told yourself that smiling in his face and kissing him with your eyes closed and telling him what he wanted to hear was the easy part. As you walked down the hall—Peter taking the lead—you reminded yourself that the hard part was only just beginning. 

The real challenge would come in cohabitating with him like he was someone you cared about. The truly hard part of all this would come when he wanted to shower together and wrap his arms around you in bed and pull you against him like you were any average couple in love. 

When he wanted to have sex with you.

This would go beyond just acting, but you would have to fully embody someone else—someone who cared about this man almost as much as he cared about you but was simply hesitant and nervous. You would have to take on an entirely new persona, and to make it all the more challenging, you had to do it in enough time to get what you needed before he wanted this relationship to go public.

…because you didn’t care what Peter said.

He wasn’t going to be content with keeping this between you forever.

You hadn’t missed the way he’d said Bucky’s name at that restaurant. There were more sides to Peter you hadn’t been privy to yet, and you hoped to God that you never would be, but you knew without a doubt that there was a part of Peter that wanted to show this entire town you belonged to him. Peter had never struck you as that kind of man, but then again, there were a lot of things about him that you absolutely would have never guessed.

As you helped him unpack what he brought over, you tried to keep your face even at the sight of clothes and toiletries and nothing else.

“I’ll have to tell Nat that I rehired you, of course,” you said to him, hesitantly glancing his way. “It seems silly to have you hide away any time she comes over.”

Peter found that funny for some reason, and he nodded.

“Of course. What are you going to tell her when she asks why?”

You stewed on that for a moment.

“I haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll tell her that I just really need you around, right now,” you eventually came up with, and it wasn’t a lie.

“Well, it’s not a lie,” he said, voicing your own thought. “You do need me.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, pausing in his unpacking to give you his attention. Peter’s intentions were pretty clear, and you didn’t doubt that said intentions had been on his mind from the moment you’d uttered the words ‘you were right’ earlier. While you knew that it would eventually come to that—probably as soon as hours from now—you weren’t mentally prepared. You couldn’t make your body do that, right now, and so you hurried to ruin his mood.

“I’ll have to tell Bucky the same…”

Your words had the desired effect, and you relaxed a little when Peter froze. He lifted his head from the crook of your neck to rest his chin on it, and while you had expected several things, you hadn’t expected the next words that came from his mouth.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Mr. Barnes to come by here, anymore.”

You couldn’t stop your frown at that, and you pulled away just a little to turn and face him. Peter’s visage was entirely serious, and your frown deepened as you realized this. His expression didn't relent at all the longer you stared at him, and you were the one to break the tense silence.

“Peter…”

“I’m serious,” he confirmed, moving to finish unpacking the rest of his clothes. “Now that our relationship has evolved, I don’t want him coming by here anymore.”

“...but he’s my friend.”

The younger man gave a scoffing bark of a laugh at that, and you watched him run his hand through his thick curls.

“Friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”

The humor disappeared from his features by the time he looked at you again.

“He’s your friend because you didn’t want more with him. If you had, he wouldn’t be your friend right now, and we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”

You blinked at that.

“The kind that would involve me telling you to break up with him because I actually dislike sharing.”

His tone was serious, and you swallowed as he stared you down. Your lips parted, and you snapped them shut, thinking over your next words carefully.

“If I suddenly stop being friends with him, it’ll be very suspicious, Peter.”

He stared at you for what felt like too long, expression unmoving before his lips suddenly pulled into a small smile.

“While true, I imagine that him walking in on you coming around me would be even more suspicious.”

His words had you blinking furiously, but before you could respond to such a thinly veiled threat, you heard a familiar cry. The curly-haired young man didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing in favor of checking on whichever twin had woken up from her nap first.

You were still tense from his parting words, and telling yourself that you needed to pick your battles wisely, you softly sighed.

You knew that you couldn’t just outright ask Peter to delete that video. It was so brazenly stupid that not only would Peter accuse you of not trusting him, but he might even suspect this whole thing was an act. He’d be right, of course, and it was why you had to convincingly get him settled into a comfortable lull. 

…and you had to do that by committing to doing things you weren’t comfortable doing.

Your fingers clawed at your sheets as Peter’s tongue swiped between your folds and pressed itself into your core. Your girls were down for the night, and you knew that as soon as they were, and dinner was done and put away, Peter would waste no time in reaching out for what he felt now belonged to him.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened,” he’d murmured to you, humming at the taste of wine on your lips.

You’d concluded that you needed something in your system if you were to commit to this.

“The sounds you made, the way you tasted on my lips,” he’d breathed into your mouth. “The way you felt wrapped around me.”

He’d taken a reprieve on the stairs, just pinning you against the wall and kissing you. His hands hadn’t stayed in one place for long, touching every inch of you that he could, and when he seemed satisfied, he continued in pulling you towards your bedroom.

“Fuck,” he’d swore into the kiss the moment you were through the threshold. “I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”

The moments that followed bled together into one long endless pleasurable moment. You didn’t know if it was a relief or not that Peter was so skilled and so determined to make you come undone. You found it shockingly easy to surrender to his ministrations, unable to swallow down your moans and whimpers as he ate you out.

His tongue—so warm and firm—greedily lapped at you, and his fingers pressed into your thighs so hard that you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises in the morning. Your chest arched as you squirmed on the bed, and unable to help yourself, one of your hands found it’s way to his curls. Peter hummed against your cunt, and you knew that he liked that.

You confirmed as much when he reached up to find your other hand before forcing it to find a home in his hair right next to your other one. You were completely naked—Peter having wasted no time in getting your clothes off of you—but your nudity did nothing to cool you down. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you absentmindedly recalled that Peter was only partially undressed.

It seemed that he only just remembered that too, and when he pulled his mouth away from you, you were ashamed of the stab of disappointment that tore through you. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, and you blinked as you watched him sit up before getting undressed.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he did, pulling his lip between his teeth as he rejoined you on the bed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The wine in your system definitely helped you to relax, but if you were honest, it did more than that. Playing this part came to you easier than you anticipated, and that worried you a little. Maybe even scared you a little.

The younger man was gentle in running his hand up your leg, fingers dancing along your skin as he did so. His dark eyes appeared even darker if that were at all possible, and in this moment, it was evident that Peter cared about nothing more than he did the thought of being inside of you again.

Glancing down, you caught sight of his cock—erect and wet at the very tip and just waiting to fill you up.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, reaching for your face.

When he kissed you, you didn’t swallow down your hum in time, and your throat vibrated as it climbed out of your mouth and into the kiss. Peter’s entire body covered yours as he made himself comfortable on top of you, and—playing your part—you rested your hands on his back. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you.

Peter didn’t waste any more time.

Forcing your knees to hook over his arms, Peter lifted his hips and dipped his cock into you with one smooth thrust. A choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time. Your hands slid over him, unsure of what to grasp onto, and you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that started to fall from your lips.

Peter was fucking you with the assured confidence that he finally had you.

The strained grunts that left his mouth were in time with every push of his cock, and you were almost ashamed of how wet you were. Although, you supposed that it would only prove to help you in convincing Peter this was genuine. You were literally dripping around him, and you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were playing a part. That you were doing what you needed to do to earn his trust and get him to let his guard down.

Although that was easier said than done when his lips kept seeking yours out. Every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasped again when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin there. His toned chest repeatedly brushed against yours with every movement, and the gentle stimulation against your hardened buds made you shudder beneath him.

Every time he dipped his cock into you, the sound reached your ears…and his too.

“You’re dripping for me,” he whispered into the kiss. “I love how wet you are.”

You wanted to come up with something to say to reel him in more, but you were genuinely at a loss for words. It was hard to focus on anything besides the feel of him stretching you out.

“I’m so glad you came around, So glad,” he murmured, kissing you over and over and over again. “I really…I really didn’t want to do things the hard way.”

Your bed shook beneath you as Peter pounded into you, his curls tickling your skin.

“You may not believe that, but it’s true.”

He finally paused, holding himself inside of you as he pulled his head back some. He stared into your eyes—both of your chests heaving—and he looked between them as you struggled to catch your breath.

“I meant it when I said I don't take pleasure in hurting you. That’s not something that makes me happy,” he said through uneven breaths.

He slowly pulled his hips back before snapping them against you again, and you gasped. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, carefully watching your face.

“...but I’ll do what I have to. You understand?”

He didn’t give you time to respond.

“I’m smart, and you know it, and I know you know it.”

Your nails dragged along his skin as he thrust into you slowly, taking his time in pushing the length of him into you.

“So if all of this is just you playing at something, then you need to be prepared to play at it for the rest of your life,” he whispered to you, staring into your eyes. “...because you don’t know the things I’ve done to protect you.”

Your wide eyes looked between his at that.

“...and I’ll do worse to keep you.”

[sunboki]

⎯ COUNTDOWN TO LOVE. a Christopher Bahng fiction

🎁 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. countdown to christmas, best friends to lovers! au, pining, non-idol! au, comfort, worry of unrequited feelings, slight angst, fluff, cuteness overload

WORD COUNT. 6.5k ☆ 34 minute read

WARNINGS. swearing(??), mentions of a dick(?), insecurity, usage of terms of endearment, mentions of inferiority, mention of vomit, reader is said to wear makeup on an occasion

AUG'S NOTES. this was a very soft and sweet opposition to Christmas Blues last year which, notably, was remarkably “blue” in nature. in the midst of writing i found myself worried this new approach to lighter, best-friend-to-lovers feelings would be too plain—but i had to remind myself this isn’t enemies to lovers, nor is it nearly as angsty as Christmas Blues!! though i hope their feelings can be both established and understood well, so thank you for sticking with me this far :) i hope this fuzzy piece keeps your heart warm during this cold winter<3

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. It had always been natural between you and Chris. Knowing someone for almost ten years comes with that. And yet, when he confesses that he doesn’t want to keep up this cycle but pursue you one winter, you’re hesitant in thinking it will work out. Then again, you’ve never been one to deny him.

or alternatively :

Five days till Christmas, five dates to see if you feel the same.

December 20th.

“Move your arm.”

Sunday morning sunlight streams through barely cracked blinds, making your brows crinkle at the onslaught of brightness in distaste. That, along with occupying a mattress with none other than Chris Bahng.

A weekly occurrence at this rate, if not daily. And no, whatever earlier assumption about you two sharing a bed is wrong.

Totally.

Oh, he’s also pitiful to boot, evident with the loud whine heard in response as he rolls over—messy curls unruly upon just awakening. 

And.. somehow beautiful, with those big brown eyes and lips the color of burnt russet parting with a highly exaggerated yawn.

But pitiful most of all. 

“‘S warm—“ Chris groans out, inch-worming his way to wrap big arms around your form, beckoning you snuggled against his back with a content sigh.

“Too warm,” You scowl, squirming about in his grasp, disagreeable sorts of sounds leaving tight lips. Chris simply giggles.

“Say,” He begins, weighing his chin upon your shoulder, fingertips slipping beneath your shirt to feel your skin, tracing the lines of your abdomen, rising to rest on your belly. 

A surprising lover of skin-to-skin, he is.

“What if we became something more?”

When you know someone long enough, an established sense of normalcy alternative to everybody else appears, whether that’s the plentiful times you’d heard Chris squeal like a girl after walking in on him in his boxers, or the not-so pretty nights out where he’d hold back your hair while you threw up in the bathroom a bar whose name you can’t recall.

But then again, it’s always been just that.

Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t demand anything from you, didn't judge you. Listening with an attentive ear those days you would cry on the phone, and bring you a donut before morning classes after passing an exam.

The small things.

So it makes you wonder when you started seeing him differently. And if he felt that same way too.

A slow progression of love, like a river in its path of eroding canyons over thousands of years. Familiar, comforting. Done without a second thought like muscle memory. His fingers curling against yours in busied atmospheres, the look you both give each other when a certain song comes on.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

With your face peering over his monitor, wide eyes he adores peek at him from an upside down angle. 

Cute, he thinks, tapping your nose with a chilled index.

Chris always keeps it cold in his apartment, partially because he remembers you’d told him you sleep better that way, partially because he loves to hear you complain about it in the morning.

As for the big question popped earlier today, he chooses to wait patiently per your request (after staring at him like he’d grown an extra pair of eyes then proceeding to smack his arm before realizing he was serious).

So, yes, you’re thinking.

And it scares Chris more than he’d like to admit. 

He knows the risks, the “let’s try this” somehow turning into an ugly breakup and never speaking again.

And he can’t afford that when it comes to you, because you’ve become the most important person in his life without even noticing it.

Even if his love is one sided. Unrequited. 

He’d be okay as long as he has you.

Just the thought makes him anxious, makes the clicking of his mouse arranging the tempo to become erratic in pace, head-dizzying.

“Chris?”

Until your voice finds him, and the torrential waves of his ocean go back to their slow lapsing. Calming the waters as always, trademark to you.

“New track,” He offers, eyes flickering up to you with a meek smile emphasizing the charming dimples there.

Majoring in music comes with both perks and downfalls: hours spent studying and cramming terms down his throat whilst managing personal projects, and, of course, the fleeting satisfaction after passing an exam by a stroke of luck.

But he loves every moment of it, especially having you listen to some of his favorite productions. Some he’ll strum on a guitar amidst his arranged apartment shared with Changbin and Han—roommates you’d grown quite acquainted with—in the late evening, his heart likely beating out of his chest watching your sweet face nod along.

At the moment it’s him here alone, Han having already relocated back home for the holidays, Changbin at his part time job, working lighting and electrical work at a live-house.

“Can I listen?” 

Slow to nod, he beckons you closer with a wave of his hand, carefully placing headphones overtop your ears.

And yet, as your head bobs and face wrinkles up just like he does when hearing something catchy, he can’t help the grin on his face watching you.

You’re beautiful, and he’s too fond it might just be unhealthy.

It’s too easy to fall in love with you.

He has a feeling he’ll be thinking that a lot.

December 21st.

Enough. 

If there was an early New Year’s resolution, gaining a lack of hesitation would have to be on the top of the list.

Of course, that would ensue plenty of compromising situations if you did things impulsively considering the amount of times you’d wanted to kiss him, but, for the most part, it would work in a sensible manner.

“Five dates.” 

Last night you slept over (similar to most nights), clad in one of Chris’s old t-shirts and a pair of suspiciously clean basketball shorts for the gym-addicted man in question, Changbin, to offer you.

By the stove, Chris occupies himself with cooking eggs, lips puffed in a way downright dangerous to your “no hesitation” resolution and lack of t-shirt displaying a broad, muscled back adding to the list. 

Your tongue pokes against your cheek, arms crossed over your chest.

”Five dates.. mhm.. gotcha…” Each nod from the man assures you that, no, he doesn’t “gotcha”; his attention long since drawn to what lies in a sizzling pan and the low hum of “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz rumbling from the small radio on the corner of the kitchen island.

“Chris,” You grunt, brows lifting, resisting the urge to laugh when he glances over his shoulder with that sheepish expression, all-telling.

Or maybe that comes with the years. Unspoken gestures understood without fail.

”Sorry ‘bout that,” He murmurs, and you curse every aspect of your vision being a spectator to his trapezius rippling while dishing down two mugs from the cabinet. One that you bought him, the other purchased by Han.

The latter patterned with.. odd shaped bananas he’s sworn are not the shape of a dick.

But that’s a story for another time. 

Although, that’s the least of the oddities. Between the Danny Devito cheeto ornament(how they got their hands on it you couldn’t guess) added to their tiny Christmas tree and the rug in the bathroom with old stains no one talks about, you’ve decided to turn a blind eye for the sake of learning things you don’t want to remember. 

“What do you think if.. y’know, before we try something new,”

You pause, scorning the sly smile on his face when turning to face you, long fingers quelling the stove’s flame momentarily.

He thinks you’re the most darling thing he’s laid eyes on, and you think he’s going to laugh at you.

”We go on five dates. And after those five dates, I’ll make up my mind.”

”Is this a part of your “thinking”?”

Jerk. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

Gnawing at your bottom lip, your face pinches.

“Yes.” The words are quiet, too hushed for your liking.

Chris doesn’t make you quiet, he doesn’t make you shy. Yet, these days you find yourself falling back into a cycle of nervous, foreign feelings when speaking. As if he’s picking you apart piece for piece.

As if he hasn’t already read every page of the book named you over and over again.

But now the pages rewrite themselves, too many filled with the word “love” and “affection” and “more than friends” and—

“Can I kiss you after those dates?”

Jerk. For the second time.

”And if I say no?”

He lights a fire under your feet. Maybe it’s the heat causing blood to rush to your ears.

Chris lifts his mug. ”Indirect?”

You scoff, he giggles, squeaky in pitch just as it’s always been. Your cheeks warm.

Because in the midst of a once-normalcy, you can feel a storm brewing. It’s unclear if it’ll be a hurricane or a refreshing rain shower, and perhaps the unpredictably is supposed to be thrilling.

Or maybe it’s doomed, and the debris left after that hurricane will lay untouched, uncared for.

So it’s the feeling of his arms wrapping around you beckoning those thoughts out of reach, holding the doubt just high enough you don’t have to see.

Hear, listen, overthink. For now, all there is to fret about is Chris, and the warmth of his hug, pulling you infinitely close against heated skin.

Then does it register to you he’s always read your pages the same, and he would for as long as you’ll give him time to reread. If they change, they change together.

How foolish you forgot such a thing. As if he wasn’t your best friend first.

“Yes, you can.”

When those five dates are over, kiss me.

His nose buried into your shoulder, he murmurs a quiet “thank you”, a satisfied hum resounding from his chest, eyes crinkling up in the corners with a smile.

“Is that my shampoo?”

If anything, you feel as if you’ve been having dates over the years you’ve known Chris as he lists out ideas from a website on his phone. Except, yours weren’t touchy feel-y and certainly not regarded as “dates”, but simple things.

Dinners, falling asleep on his shoulder (something he remembers very well), baking together.

It’s a cold day, and after his hug that squeezed every fiber of sanity from your being, you now resorted to trying to figure out what that first date should consist of. 

The first of the five, pending.

“Ah,” Lips parting to exhale, you peer from the nearest window, watching hot breath fog up the glass whilst gazing out at vastly falling slow blanketing the ground a winter wonderland. A white abyss from your viewpoint.

“It’s snowing.” 

A chaste pause ensues.

“Might as well go out ‘n enjoy it, hm?” His voice, paired with a grin saturated in too much mischief for your liking resounds from over your shoulder.

Unable to react fast enough, Chris, sneaking up behind you without your knowledge, hoists you over his shoulder in seconds time—now (unfortunately) adorning a hoodie over his once bare torso.

Your shocked shriek rings about the apartment in reply.

“Out of the way! We’re goin’ outside!” Chris giggles victoriously, shouting to no one in particular as your fists beat at his back upon making for the door.

The faintest gust of frigid wind has goosebumps slithering up your skin—granting the man a cacophony of “No! Let me down!”’s he seems to soak up like praise.

Well, before relenting.

Because then again, who was he to deny you? To some degree it felt like every bone in his bone dragged him close to you, trailing after your footsteps like a lost puppy.

“One of these days,” Sighing heavily like that of an old man, a firm hand pats your thigh before you’re reluctantly flopped onto the couch, glaring up at him in a manner he deems too pretty to keep from smiling at. 

That same hand comes to hold your face, smushing up your cheeks and, in turn, earning plentiful laughter you simply huff towards. 

“Don’t pout—“ He whines, your heart rate spiking when another hand comes down towards your hair.

If there was any restraint of yours left, it would be relinquished instantly if he so much as touched your hair—

He flicks your forehead. And proceeds to slump down beside you.

“Oh you prick-“

His hand reaches to gently cover your mouth, bringing an index to rest on plush lips of his own. 

“No pouting, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Oh he’s going to get it. 

Playing you like a fiddle.

And damn does he do it well. 

.

.

.

Head tipping, your eyes flicker over his features—silently admiring such a side profile. With the perfect curve of his lips and hook of his nose, he could rival sculptures found in museums.

This was after trying to tackle him (to no avail, sadly) and curse his very existence (another fail). 

Then, the mediator came by in the form of a movie night and the small sheet of chocolate chip cookies warming in the oven, scent steaming the air with a mouthwatering aroma. 

Your first of five, initiated.

“Mm.. Don’t we have movie nights normally though?” The remark offered quietly, you shift closer to his body, pressing your right side to his, knees tucked beneath a blanket he’d arranged across either of your laps.

Love Actually plays on the screen ahead, but your focus couldn’t be deviating more.

Ever the attentive soul, Chris is equal in the shared admiration, honeyed irises fixed upon you in his peripheral prior to a careful finger lifting, looping a strand of hair behind your ear.

In turn, his gentle palm cups your jaw to tilt your head, sweeping an additionally stubborn hair from the other side of your face as well.

Your heart feels moments from bursting, and he looks at you as if you’re his whole world.

You are, but that was a matter unnoticed on your end.

It’s a quiet debate. Dangerous and fickle. Move too quickly and something might go wrong, hesitate and an opportunity may vanish to never be seen again. Do you kiss him? Is that how it works? Or is this a matter of “kissing on the first date”, treated like a taboo? 

More so, what happens next? After the kiss?

His eyes flicker upward to yours, lacking that boy-ish, charming smile he usually dons. Instead, he’s serious, calm. Then to your lips, like the melody of a slow song, flickering with the dips and pitches of the rhythm.

Leaning in, you can’t help but comply, and every thought within your mind numbs into nothingness—

Beeep!

A sharp, acrid stench makes your nose burn, face transforming into both realization and panic upon witnessing the tendrils of smoke curling from the oven.

“Shit!”

And after frantically racing to salvage what little remained of the cookies while Chris furiously fanned the smoke detector, your “date night” turned into a shared glance, laughter, and the both of you trudging to his bed for the night, leaving the remaining bit of Love Actually for another day.

So no, rest assured you didn’t kiss him on the first date.

Maybe tomorrow. 

December 22nd.

Y’know how Chris mentioned going out into the snow “one of these days?”.  

That day was today, apparently.  

“You don’t get it I’ll slip-“

“But you can hold onto me, yeah?” He laughs, squeaky still. Gloved hands find purchase on your hips, gently easing you forward where your back rests to his chest. His right hand shifts upward to rest against your spine, a feeling you have to swallow down wallowing in your stomach.

“Slow steps, I won’t let go.”

Don’t ever, you wish to say. Don’t ever let me go.

And not to keep me from slipping.

Maybe if you were ice skating or slow dancing this would be romantic, but the ugly, waddling manner you make down ice-coated stairs kills off any hope for swooning.

That is, until you do slip, and the man is a fraction too slow until you’re flat on your bum outside his apartment complex, heated from both annoyance and the knowledge far too many embarrassing pictures have been added to his camera roll just now.

In which.. a wonky, slightly-melting snowman comes to be not long afterward, neither of you willing to admit your creation is not “creative”, but horridly unsightly.

“I love it!”

Of course he does. Random pipes substituting as two arms and a carrot nose while Han’s fedora from 2016 awkwardly sits atop a head disproportionate from its body.

Your second date ideas offered a galaxy of possibilities, but after awakening late and coffee’s failure to open your eyes further than half-lidded, you figured today would mimic yesterday as a day spent at home.

He’d get some assignments done in the evening, and you’d probably turn on another Christmas movie while waiting to finish Love Actually in his company later on.

“We should come up with a name,” Nodding proudly at the aforementioned abomination, you cross your arms across your chest, your partner in crime brainstorming in a seriousness practically comical to the situation at hand.

“Hm.. something happy! I mean, look at his face, it’s happy, isn’t it?”

Mind you, cold, visibly dead extra coat-buttons are what stares back at you as its “eyes”, and you easily nod in feigned agreement as he takes ceaseless pictures of the thing with obvious delight, likely to send to friends and family alike.

The bottom snowball is melting, and a pipe has already fallen off what was supposed to be its arm, but Chris is beaming, and you'd rather slice off your own tongue than keep him from enjoying this moment.

Happy. 

You feel as if you’d do anything in the world to see him smile.

.

.

.

“Eh? Who’s that?”

5pm, and you’ll probably have to pummel the door open in the morning thanks to the blizzard-like conditions outside.

Among plenty of assignments he told himself he’d fret over in the evening, an unfinished paper sits in front of Chris while his thumbs twiddle along the keyboard of his phone, your chin hooked to his shoulder to glance down at the device—a habit of yours he finds himself unreasonably fond of.

Changbin came home early from the live-house, with most events cancelled from the cold and too little work to be done, there was no need to keep workers around. Dinner beckoned conversation and knowing glances from the roommate whenever you and Chris spoke, earning a scolding scowl while he simply grinned innocently in reply.

It seemed your love was obvious to everyone but you two. How tragic.

Though, amidst photos of both your earlier wipeout (a matter you don’t mention) and snapshots of the snowman he’s currently trying to send while seated at his desk, a certain name within the text catches your attention:

Mister Sunshine.

Chris chuckles sheepishly, your brows lifting in silent inquisition.

“It’s.. the snowman’s name. I named him.” He murmurs, the back of his neck doused pink. A facet of his embarrassment.

He named the snowman Mister Sunshine.

That smile of his making an additional appearance lies responsible for an internal scream to ring throughout your body, deafening your brain despite an external silence.

And in that moment, your feelings become harder to ignore than ever.

December 23rd. 

“You should get all pretty today.”

Your attention, once drawn to the different kinds of cookie-cutter molds, flickers up to him when he speaks. 

As it always does, hanging onto his every word as if fearful there’d be a day you couldn’t. 

Quizzically does your head tip in confusion, spurring the heat blooming by the back of his neck all the way up to flushed ears.

He waves quick hands, having been eyeing through the assortment of donuts Changbin brought home last night after his “buy one get one free sale” turned into buying a dozen at the shop by the live-house. 

“I mean, ‘s not like you aren’t pretty every day, but- y’know- like—“

It feels cruel letting him futilely try explaining, but gosh is he too cute.

And hearing him call you pretty feels too good to end abruptly. 

It also makes you wonder what happened to the smug-grin-wearing, playful person he could become at times. The one so confident and sure, now rosy.

An alter-ego sounded too far-fetched most days, but as for today… fairly accurate.

“What I meant is,” Turning, Chris extends the mug of coffee your way, heated glass warming your palms as you take it.

A part to your shared daily occurrences, routine. 

“I want to take you out tonight. We can go window shopping, see decorations, yeah?”

Perhaps the steam of your cup is what warms your cheeks, and very quickly do you come to recall you’re the one making him wait. 

He was willing to go all in from the start. And then you feel even crueler.

“Okay, tell me when to start getting ready.”

But you nod and pretend, because maybe you’re good at staving down things you know will come up anyway.

He’d always chided your procrastination.

.

Too long have you spent burning holes in your mirror with each scrutinizing glare, and the longer you stare, the worse what’s reflected becomes.

Chris had sent a small text proposing a forty minute window before heading out, in which ensued your frantic scouring around your room for both an outfit and coordinating accessories. 

Sure, you may have known the guy since your ugliest years, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to spend some extra time on yourself, right?

Your third of five dates, and you should be bouncing up and down with cheerfulness, looking forward to “getting all pretty”, dolling up for an evening with your favorite person, your best friend. And, come recent days, your admitted love interest.

But you aren’t. You don’t feel cheerful, ecstatic.

And walking out to his awestruck form doesn’t feel revitalizing, and sure as hell far from a confidence boost.

“You look.. wow.” He gapes, drinking in every article of clothing, the way you’ve got the prettiest of ribbons in your hair a crimson red, your cute socks and warm sweater.

An angel, he wants to say. That, along with many things you’d slap him on the shoulder for speaking aloud.

Worst of all? He knows your tell-tale signs in and out. 

“Hey.”

His face seems to melt. Like crying, and it makes you want to cry. The sad, tiny crease of his brows, the puff of his bottom lip.

Worried.

“But, I mean,” Your voice chokes up, and you hate every bit of it, the emotions compiling to the surface—ones impossible to stave down.

You don’t feel nice. Putting on an outfit you both liked and thought you looked good in, fixing up your makeup, the little accessories to compliment certain colors, elements.

Yet, your heart still sunk when looking in the mirror, and now, looking at Chris, it feels like all that confidence is beginning to melt—salt sprinkled on the snow of the driveway.

Greater than that, it frustrates you. It isn’t his fault he’s attractive; beautiful, even, but every second by his side feels akin to a blazing inferiority, causing the already-chilled, flushed fingertips of yours to burn, your ears to grow unusually warm.

Like a child.

How irritating.

“Hey,”

His voice, like honey and pastries and all the bestest, warmest things when in need of comfort.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

The endearment isn’t teasing this time, not even in the slightest. It’s soft and delicate, an ornate vase constructed of glass, capable of breaking from a mere breath. 

Standing outside his apartment, snow dappling the sky in endless flurries, it’s only you two in the world.

Your lip wobbles, but Chris always catches you before you fall.

“I’m the man honored to walk around with you tonight, hm?” He starts, thumbing away bubbling tears from your cheeks.

“You look too pretty for these tears, ‘don’t want to mess up your makeup now do we?” He cracks a feeble smile, smoothing down your brows and adjusting your scarf with utmost care from his mitten-clad fingers.

“Ah,” His face lights up with recognition. “You added the glittery eyeshadow.”

You can’t help but crack a laugh. Pitifully croaked, but there no less.

First day of high school and you’d shown up with a downright awful amount of glittery eyeshadow, looking similar to a human-disco ball with the sheer amount alone.

Chris, ever the kind soul knowing you since birth, gave you a two thumbs up, a tight smile, and a “looks great!” that’s lived as one of your best inside jokes even now.

Luckily, this time around the amount is agreeable, just above your lashes and shimmering avidly beneath falling snow.

“I did,” You whisper softly, gaze fluttering down to your shoes before flickering back up to him. “And um.. is it true? That..”

Oh this is embarrassing.

“I look okay?”

Perhaps if he says it, tonight you can believe it’s true.

This time he breaks your heart, with such a heart-wrenching smile on his face.

“You always look beautiful, ‘doesn’t matter how much you think you’re not, you’ll never be able to change my mind. Now let me take you out, yeah? ‘Can grab some hot chocolate,” He ushers, winding your arm to link with his as you make forward, his black trench coat swaying with the click of dress shoes, chilly nose finding sanctuary in a ruby-red scarf wrapped around his shoulders.

Beneath the streetlights and dark skies, Chris could be a prince if he so wished.

That’s another thing you can believe is true tonight.

Curious eyes of awaiting children and scolding mothers litter the streets, tiny fingers pointing to toys through the glass, busied chatter and shared affection blooming within a once blue atmosphere, now dappled in ribbons of color.

The transition from monochrome, like shutters of an old camera capturing technicolor for the first time.

Or maybe Chris was the one responsible for each flourish of color, painting your world the prettiest of hues.

“Do you remember it?”

His voice, honeyed, accompanied by a plume of air in requite of a warm exhale evokes a skip to your step, catching your footing on the stone sidewalk with an awkward clearing to your throat.

“The things you used to want for Christmas?” He continues, and you chose to ignore the knowing smile on his face, gaze shifting upward in hopes of recollection, to no avail.

“Hm.. Do you?” Quietly offered, a change in attention grants you momentary escape from the spotlight.

Well, before it truly does become momentary.

He never has been embarrassed easily, you’d like to add. A matter speaking for itself in the way he automatically clings to your side in response, swaying back and forth whilst singing along to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” you didn’t realize was blaring through overhead speakers above passing until this moment.

Predictably, he earns the bemused grins of passerby and your face (as an individual who does in fact get embarrassed easily, to your own dismay) growing fifty shades of crimson.

“Yah! Quit!” Though your efforts are as futile as your voice and it’s involuntarily chortled-ness, you smack at his hand no less.

Of course, he persists.

Until the sharp turn to a small, annually appearing hot chocolate truck ceases your complaining and his singing in synonymous tandem.

An array of memories come washing across you with each gust of winter wind, and you can practically hear the manner of squeakiness his voice used to be, the foam from whipped-cream topped cocoa sitting atop his top lip like a mustache. You’d always laugh at that.

When you burnt your tongue one year after the beverage was too hot and he remained resilient in his belief you could and would taste Christmas dinner.

You did not, but it was worth a try. Also worth seeing his big, hopeful eyes peek up at you excitedly.

Back then he was always shorter than you, until that fateful day in High school he arrived with a far taller stature than the pipsqueak you knew of most days.

A lot has changed since then. In more ways than one.

Seems his memory remains as sharp as ever, evident in the gentle squeeze he gives your hand—his you hadn’t even noticed was held in your own up till now.

“Get some, hm? My treat.” He quickly urges, watching you pad forward like a child to admire the menu in adoration, waving to the old woman you’d known since a child, always manning her tiny miracle of a truck. 

He would keep the fact he’d looked up the hours the truck would be in town to himself. That, along with the tiny heart drawn on the side of the cardboard coffee sleeve you had yet to acknowledge, one he discovers is the old woman’s doing, her knowing smile matching his own when he looks up for silent clarification.

Encouragement. 

Go for it.

He feels his palms grow clammy, internally thankful you weren’t holding hands at the moment(which was enough of a heart-attack inducing experience in itself).

The trace of lipgloss on the rim of your cup, the batting of those precious eyes.

Worst is, you don’t even know what you do. The little things compiling into something downright torturous.

And when you look up at him for that split second, his breath catches. 

Ah. 

He wants to kiss you. 

From the scrunch of your nose when you begin to laugh to the snowflakes already dappling your lashes.

Because loving you is easy, and then it’s not. Over and over again. He’s afraid, but his mind is fuzzy and jumbled with feelings, and that small bit of melted marshmallow on your bottom lip he finds himself longing to taste. Lick up the sweetness and sink his teeth into the plush skin–

The tiniest drop of hot chocolate clings to your lips, and Chris wonders if you’d taste like it too.

December 24th.

“Hm?” His hum of confusion falls upon deaf ears, too preoccupied with a call from your mom to take note.

Something must’ve piqued his attention, though you’d have half the mind to guess what.

That is until hanging up, and curious brown eyes boring into your skull from afar transform into this itch you can’t ignore.

“Chris.”

Like an annoying older brother, he is sometimes.

Then there’s that sheepish sort of sound, the “i-got-caught” giggle testing your annoyed facade.

“Hey now,” He begins after a moment, pointing an incredulous finger your way like you’ve said something outrageous, looking like some perplexed old man whilst running a hand through his hair in an odd, cheap rendition of exasperation.

He looks more like he’s choking, but you give full points for effort. 

“You haven’t put up your tree or anything? What are you, the grinch?”

Oh, so that’s what this is about. 

For context, your conversation minutes prior with your mother consisted of the formalities: “How are you? Eating well? Sleeping well?” which turned into the personal portions: “Classes? Boyfriends?”

As for the last question, you’d keep her posted. 

But what seemed to grab his attention most was the additional part where you not-so-discreetly told her you likely wouldn’t bother putting up decorations in your own place this year.

Granted, you spent most days at Chris’s anyway, Christmas as well. Why not skip the hassle to freeload?

Also, you weren’t aware this was chastising season, Mr. Bahng.

“You’re serious?”

Nope. All a joke, every bit.

“…I usually just stay here anyway..?”

Which was true! He knows this!

“Nuh-uh, ‘s gotta change. What if one year I go overseas to visit family and you’re here alone?”

Horribly fast, your stomach sinks, and you’re hasty to scorn the sensation.

This fear, innate and uncontrollable. That on a certain season, you won’t have that certain someone to spend it with. 

I won’t, you want to say; treat the words like some totally unrealistic joke, treat his argument like a fable.

The clapping of his hands wards you from your incomprehensible nightmare.

“Alright! Let’s go! We’re decorating your place!”

This year at least, he’ll be by your side.

So you nod, as you do to most things concerning Christopher Bahng.

Love makes a person so.. strange, does it not?

Maybe that’s just you. Or him, or all of it. Who knows.

Crunching of white sheets beneath your feet keep your head from falling astray, as if dancing atop dove feathers amidst your trek to the car.

Too many thoughts, too many questions likely to be left unanswered.

The moon, in her full, glowing glory blinks down from above as a feeble solace.

Of the most beautiful of love stories. For when her lover, Sun, grows tired of arduous laboring in the day, she will arrive to establish her night so that Sun may rest for another day. A night of waiting for the one most beloved to her.

It reminds you quite a bit of yourself, oddly enough, as frosted fingertips shuffle beneath your legs to bask in the passenger seat’s seat heater as a source of warmth.

Each exhale fogs up the windows as the engine rumbles to life, and it’s a wonder you didn’t have to scrape off ice beforehand.

“Mm, in Australia it’d be so warm since ‘was summer, even on Christmas Eve. I remember one year ‘got the chance to get out there during the Holidays. Jisung sent me a text saying it was four degrees celsius in Korea and he was wearing three jackets. Meanwhile, I was outside in a tank top with Berry in twenty-seven.”

His eyes adorn the same sweet crinkle of happiness, ring-clad index tapping an inaudible beat where it rests on your knee, the other finding purchase on the steering wheel as you continue onward through late-December snowflakes.

He lights up your world without even trying. His smile, his excited talking. The way his words grow shorter and shorter the more excited he is to explain something.

Nerd. 

You love every second of it.

“And what I said about Australia earlier.” Chris begins quietly, sparing you a glimpse. His palm squeezes your knee gently, and you want to shout, jump, do something to alleviate the scream wishing to claw from your throat in reply.

Since when have you become so susceptible, so easy?

Simple. Since you fell in love.

Or, more like when you realized you were in love.

This was nothing new, after all.

“You wouldn’t be alone here over the holidays. I’d take you with me.” His eyes squeeze shut momentarily in thought, tone this quieted whisper you have to crane to discern.

“Back in October, during my birthday. Do you know what my wish was?”

A wordless look of wonder urges him on, thumb smoothing along your skin in a tender rhythm, never to break.

“One of these days, I’ll take you to Australia with me. Home with me.”

“So my first love can meet my last love.”

The second portion is barely intelligible, as if it were a mere whisper in the night. 

You wonder if it was a figment of your imagination.

Nevertheless, the less-than-inviting (compared to Chris’s), pale glow of your flat’s porch light eventually comes into view, and either of you clamber from car doors with evident struggle—abundant layers against the chill making for an awkward toddle to your snow-muddled doorstep.

Quick to retrieve the boxes from your attic, the both of you get to work. Chris frets over shoveling snow from your front porch, and you set to Christmas-ifying the interior.

It’s domestic, almost. His humming from the front door to songs playing on the speaker inside, the slow transition from your usual flat to a festive explosion. 

Then, of course, the tree.

In which you awkwardly shift your weight from foot to foot while awaiting his assistance, only for you to make eye contact and want to shrivel into a ball and never come out.

Again, shy. It’s bizarre. 

“Hm.. You wanna put up the star?”

After far too long trying to figure out the logistics, a makeshift (albeit lopsided) tree resides in your living space, a few ornaments here and there clothing the sad excuse for a normally grand view. 

But it’s yours, together.

You think with that knowledge alone it could’ve been a single sprout and would have been your world all the same.

His traces, everywhere. Both of your hands clutching onto each one you can grasp.

However, spontaneity comes back to haunt you. This time in the form of his hands curling around your hips, giving you a chaste countdown before you’re lifted up to place the star on the very top.

Good luck not having a heart attack, huh.

Miraculously, you don’t. Neither do you combust or squeal or any of the wild thoughts racing through murky depths of your brain.

Instead, you’re placed on the ground once more, his index and thumb taking the side of your top to gently adjust back down where it had ridden up.

Like a gentleman.

Shoot.

He makes it hard, doesn’t he?

Leaning to prop his chin on your shoulder while you admire the twinkling lights, you’d like to believe it was a hallucination that he pressed the most imperceptible, tiniest peck to the clothed junction of your neck and shoulder before pulling away.

“C’mere,” His words fall a near murmur, having to lightly tug at your wrist to truly garner your undivided attention without blood rushing to your face.

As for him, he simply had to pull you from the tree for the sake of his own wellbeing, the sight of warm lights reflecting in eyes he’d easily get lost in making each swallow harder to manage.

That, and there was.. a surprise of a sort. The sweep of a hand on the way out from his apartment, the fretful (clumsy) fastening of this so-called surprise under the guise he was clearing your porch.

Which he was, respectfully.

Just with a little something extra involved.

Nonetheless, oblivious to his plan, you follow along, anticipating some sad copy of Mister Sunshine to be made from fallen pine needles and buttons.

So when he points upwards, nothing short of a roller coaster occurs in your chest.

A spider, a roach, something scary—

A mistletoe.

Right above your head.

He’s got this giddy, nervous grin wobbling on plush lips, eyes searching yours like some little boy seeking a reaction. And you feel like you’re staring at elementary schooler Chris all over again.

At his cheery face knowing he’d be getting ice cream on the way home, when you lied about being able to taste Christmas dinner with a burnt tongue. 

A single lightbulb flickers orange, illuminating the mistletoe residing just beside.

Finally not-burnt cookies sit in their container back at his apartment, Love Actually long since completed. Your snowman, named Mister Sunshine, occupies the complex’s front walkway, and too many mugs of hot chocolate have been downed these past few days to count.

When your own place gets lonely, a tree you had put up together keeps you company, so that those nights alone this winter won’t be so cold. 

“Can I..?”

Chilled temperatures nip at your nose, and you feel like crying listening to the softened manner he asks, the tentativeness in the way his hand reaches to cup your cheek.

The sound is more like a plea, and you’d be beyond embarrassed if it was anyone but Chris.

“Please.”

And beneath that mentioned mistletoe, Chris kisses you for the first time, and December 25th makes its slow approach above the horizon.

When becoming more grows scary, Chris holds your hand to remind you there’s nothing he won’t step into with you. No matter the doubt, the fear.

It seems this winter you won’t be lonely. Because you won’t be spending this Christmas alone, nor many to come.

He’ll make sure of that.

One day till Christmas, four dates till you told him you felt the same.

You never got to five anyway. 

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[lexirosewrites]

Slick Sunday my beloved

Sorry if this makes no sense, it made sense in my head :)

Think how Steve’s parents are especially shitty and just doesn’t come home for Christmas anymore. And O!Steve knows himself well enough to know that spending Christmas alone = drop that no one can help him out of because he practically lives alone. To fix this Steve, the good dude that he is, volunteers to sit with patients at the hospital who’s family have to leave or can’t get there. He just want to take care of people and make sure no one is alone at Christmas the way he is. So he sits there and he talks to them and he just keeps them company (the old ladies love him).

Anyway a couple of days ago A!Wayne had a fall while working at the plant and while he’s certainly not a week man he did hit his head and arm badly and they needed to keep him for a few days to make sure nothing went wrong. Earlier that week he sent A!Eddie away to visit his aunt in Kentucky for Christmas so he’s kind of alone right now. One of the nurses ask if he want a volunteer to visit him on Christmas Day and he agrees because why the hell not (if they’re rude he can just ask them to leave).

Christmas Day comes and Wayne is a little shocked when a young guy walks in and presents himself as Steve Harrington. Everyone knows the harringtons are pretentious dickheads so he’s a little suspicious. But then Steve starts talking. And asking questions about Wayne and Eddie and the trailer park and suddenly hours has passed. Wayne asks if Steve can come back tomorrow and he agrees, this time he also brings cake. Wayne asks about Steve’s family once and get sad look in reply. That is the moment Wayne thinks to himself ”I already adopted one pup, what’s one more?”

A week later Eddie comes back and walks into to the trailer to see his uncle with his arm in a sling and steve ”prettiest omega in Hawkins” Harrington standing at the stove cooking dinner. He has a very small meltdown and after Wayne explains who Steve is and why he’s there Eddie has another very small meltdown. This is fine, he can handle very pretty nice omega Steve being in their trailer (he cannot). Then Steve turns around and he’s wearing an apron and one of eddies Dio T-shirts (he spilled sauce over his polo) and at this point Eddie is fully planning a wedding in his head. when they’re cleaning up Steve asks Eddie if he could maybe tell him a bit about dnd because ”the kids I babysit really like it” and eddies very logical response to this is

”Will you please have my babies”

Steve blushes, Wayne laughs and Eddie dies of embarrassment.

”Can we at least court first?”

Steve blushes more but he’s also smiling as he says this. Wayne looks like he planned this all along (maybe he did). And at this point Eddie is pretty sure he’s hallucinating but he’ll take what he can get and just tackles Steve to the floor to scent him for the first (of many) times.

Hope you like it. Anyways love your work!!!

woohoo instant love steddie is a treasure! thank you for playing along with my slick sunday challenge too!🥰🎁☃️🎄❄️

[0omillo0]

Your fics are so good literally I check this place every day. I would mainline skz angst fics if I could. Angst/hurt/comfort PLEASE. Hyunjin one where reader was in an abusive relationship in the past and they get into an argument that was really miscommunication and Hyunjin like, doesn’t raise his fists but like turns around fast or something and spooks reader and they run off, no phone no keys no nothing. Pure flight mode.

Hyunjin x reader ; angst -> comfort

warnings: abusive ex, mention of fighting

a/n: I’ve FINALLY finished school I’m so tired, but I’m happy I can write all your requests now! (thank you xoxo). also thank you for requesting this! It’s the same problem I have so it was comforting writing this

•

It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault.

You kept telling yourself that, repeating it silently, like a mantra, as the tension between you both began to rise. The words in your head sounded steady, but your body didn’t believe them. The weight pressing on your chest grew heavier with each exchanged word, with every flicker of frustration in his voice.

Hyunjin was nothing like him.

But no matter how hard you tried, the past didn’t stay buried.

Your ex had turned arguments into weapons. He had wielded raised voices like shackles, holding you captive. Apologies had come like clockwork after the damage was done, hollow promises that nothing would change. It had taken years to leave—years to find your way out of the cycle. And when you met Hyunjin, with his kind heart and gentle soul, you’d believed healing was possible.

You wanted so desperately to believe it.

The argument started over something small, something so inconsequential you barely remembered how it had begun. You’d mentioned the groceries—how there were none left at home—and he had bristled.

“I can’t do everything, Y/N,” he said sharply, barely glancing up from where he stood at the counter, his voice carrying an edge that made you pause.

It took a moment for you to respond. “I didn’t say you had to. I was just—”

“You were just what?” He turned then, meeting your gaze with frustration flickering in his dark eyes. “Pointing out another thing I forgot? Adding it to the list?”

The words hit you like a wave, unsteadying your footing. Your heart sank as you studied his expression.

“That’s not fair,” you said quietly, your tone cautious now. “I wasn’t trying to blame you for anything.”

“Well, it sure sounded like it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice lower now but no less biting.

You took a step forward, something twisting painfully inside you. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. You hated the tremor that betrayed you, hated that you already felt like you were losing control.

“I’m not acting like anything!” he shot back, his voice louder now, filling the space between you. “Why do you always have to push? Why can’t you just let things go?”

“Because I care about you, Hyunjin! I care when you’re upset, and I don’t know why you won’t just tell me what’s wrong!”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he turned his head, shaking it in disbelief. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Did you think of that?”

The words cut deeper than you expected, the sharpness in his tone stealing the air from your lungs.

“I’m just trying to help—”

“Well, maybe I don’t need your help!” he interrupted, his voice breaking into a shout.

You flinched at the sound, the echo of it slamming into you like a freight train. Your heart was pounding now, your breath coming shorter. Your feet shuffled backward, almost on instinct, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“God, you act like you need to fix everything,” he continued, his frustration spilling out unchecked. “Like you need to fix me.”

Your breath hitched, and the room around you seemed to shift. For a moment, Hyunjin’s voice wasn’t his—it was someone else’s. Someone whose words were weapons. Someone who’d told you time and time again that you were the problem.

“I don’t want to fix you,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to steady yourself. “I just want to understand.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need you to understand!” His voice broke again, louder this time, frustration and exhaustion tangled together in every syllable.

And then it happened.

Hyunjin turned sharply, his hand flying up to rake through his hair in agitation. The movement was sudden, unintentional, but your body didn’t care. Your mind didn’t stop to think.

You ran.

You didn’t even remember the door slamming behind you, your bare feet hitting the pavement as you fled into the cold night air.

The streets blurred as you moved, the echo of his voice—louder, sharper than you’d ever heard it—ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, your breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. You didn’t stop to grab your keys or your phone. You didn’t stop to think about where you were going.

The only thought in your mind was to escape.

The cold pavement stung your feet, but you barely felt it. The thin fabric of your shirt did nothing to shield you from the biting wind, but you didn’t care. The fear clawing at your chest was louder than anything else.

You didn’t stop until your legs gave out beneath you, your body collapsing onto a park bench in the middle of nowhere. The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths.

You curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as tears spilled down your face. The trembling in your hands wouldn’t stop, no matter how tightly you clutched at your arms.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice breaking between sobs. “He’s not like that. He’d never—”

But the fear wouldn’t let go.

When Hyunjin realized you were gone, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. The door was ajar, swaying slightly in the wind. The apartment felt empty without you there.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice laced with panic as he grabbed his coat and bolted into the night.

He searched everywhere he could think of: the café you loved, the little bookstore down the street, the convenience store on the corner.

But you weren’t there.

He called your name again and again, his voice growing hoarse as the minutes dragged on.

And then he saw you.

You were curled up on a bench beneath a flickering streetlight, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Y/N!” he shouted, relief and guilt flooding his chest as he ran toward you.

Your head snapped up, your tear-streaked face locking onto his. For a moment, you tensed, your body shrinking back as if to protect itself.

“It’s me,” he said softly, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s just me.”

He approached slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of you. “Can I come closer?”

You nodded after a moment, your breaths shaky.

He knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly before he reached out to place his coat over your trembling shoulders. “You’re freezing,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not your fault,” you cut in, your voice barely audible. “I panicked. It’s—it’s my past. I just…” You couldn’t finish, fresh tears spilling over.

Hyunjin reached for your hands, his own trembling as he held them gently. “I don’t care how long it takes, or what it takes—I’ll do whatever I need to so you feel safe again. Please, just let me take you home.”

The apartment felt warmer when you returned, but you still shivered beneath the blanket Hyunjin had wrapped around you. He made tea in silence, his movements slow and careful, as if afraid to startle you.

When he finally sat beside you, he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“I want to know,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I want to understand what you’ve been through. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But when you saw the worry in his eyes, the love that hadn’t wavered despite everything, you told him.

You told him everything.

Hyunjin listened without interrupting, his hands gripping yours tightly.

“I’ll never raise my voice like that again,” he said when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll never make you feel unsafe. I swear.”

You nodded, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you. You let yourself believe him.

tags: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght

[just-some-random-blogger]

Sweets & Sweeties

You opened a bakeshop called Sweets & Sweeties which was just beside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and one day you accidentally lock yourself outside.

George Weasley x Reader (x Fred Weasley) | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, Murphy's law, fred lives stfu, fluff, rizzler!Georgie, typos, etc.

A/N: i have this fic called tormented spirit and its fucked me up cos of how sad it is HAHAHAH i need a break and thats coming from someone who LOVES angst. ALSO i was never super into Harry Potter so idk lore™ but I've been watching the phelps twins and their baking show related content and i'm just so endeared by them AHHHHHHHHH. please leave comments/reblogs because this feels a bit mid cos i havent written fluff in 100 years T_T | cross posted on ao3

@pendragora if i have to suffer, you have to suffer

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was always busy. Everyday, there were children and children-at-heart going up and down the block, eager to buy themselves trinket or treat to promptly cause mischief.

Because of the shop's success, your own shop also benefitted from it. Sweets & Sweeties was your dream come true. As a child, you loved sweet treats, and you would grow to learn you loved making them just as much.

You hadn't expected to sell out as often as you did, and you knew it was all thanks to the fact the establishment next door brought as many customers as they did, who then became your customers.

You were extremely grateful, and tried time and time again to show it through a simple gesture of a gift. It was rather hard to find the time to do so however, as the neighbor establishment was constantly packed. The first time you saw the owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he had introduced himself as: "George Weasley," he says, dusting off his hands before reaching one out for you.

You merely stare at him, your smile flattening slightly, only to grow wider as you chuckle. Both of your hands held a tray of cake, and it was quite a weighty cake at that, "I-"

"Right," he brushes his hands on his trousers, "right. Sorry, let me help you with that."

He takes the cake from you and ushers you deeper into the store. You gasp when a small child runs across him, unfortunately bumping into his side. Thankfully, George manages to lift the cake, evading the collision. The girl who bumped into him looks up, eyes wide, hands clutched, looking rather guilty, "s-sorry, Mr. Weasley."

The tall man's brows furrow as he looks down. He whines, "s'not Mr. Weasley, it's George."

The girl stares at him for a moment.

"Say it with me: George."

She clutches her chest and mutters, "Georgie?"

George purses his lips together in a soft smile and nods, "Georgie it is then."

Your hand comes to your mouth as you chuckle and follow after the red haired man. He leads you into the back office and you gasp yet again, this time, because of the photograph on the wall. It was a family portrait of a myriad of other red heads breaking into a wide grin.

"There's two of you!" you point.

George sets the cake down on his desk and crosses his arms once he's besides you, "nah. There's only one person in the family as good looking as me," he turns to the photograph, "that's my twin brother, Fred."

"Oh," you turn to him, taken off guard by how close he was, "is..." you casually take a step back, "he around?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, "probably showing the customers how to use the thingamabobs."

You chuckle and nod, "well," you motion vaguely, "I know you're very busy, so I won't take any more of your time."

The man tilts his head, lips curled into an soft grin as he shrugs, "you don't hear me complaining, love."

You aimlessly look off to steel away the giggle that threatened to leave your lips, "right," you clear your throat, "ehhh, do tell me if the cake is to you—"

Before you can even finish your thought, George is back at his desk. He swipes a dollop of frosting and tastes it.

"—r... liking."

He raises his brows as he nods, "it's to my liking."

The both of you just stand there for a moment, staring at each other. You're now rather painfully aware of your breathing.

You start when the office door bangs open and a near exact replica of George comes walking in, "you would not believe what just—"

George's eyes are on you as you turn to his twin. You raise your hand, "hi... I'm-" you point to nowhere, "-the baker next door."

He turns to George, then back to you, reaching out his left hand, "Fred Weasley."

You smile and shake his hand, speaking your name in return.

"Hey!" George walks over, reaching out a hand, "I didn't get a handshake!"

You turn to George and his outstretched left hand, about to shake it, but Fred does not release you, and only turns to his twin.

"Fred-"

"I'm not done."

George watches Fred shake your hand, "well that's more than enough."

"Not really," Fred shrugs.

You chuckle softly, making them turn to you. You then offer your other hand to George, crossing your arm over the other, "here."

George looks at it and takes it with his right one. The three of your shake each other's hands for a questionably long time.

When you're finally released, you hold back a laugh and rub your palms on the side of your hips, "right... it was a pleasure to meet you both."

They nod in sync, "the pleasure is ours."

You giggle and raise a hand in regard, "come by my shop sometimes."

They wave back at you as you head for the door.

"I'll make you both a cuppa."

They smile as you exit their office. Once you were gone, the brothers instantly turn to each other.

Fred says, "she's cute."

"Yeah, I saw her first," George counters.

"Pfft, so what?"

"So, everything."

Meeting them was so... notable, that you thought about it the entire day. You found yourself giggling about the handshake for the nth time as you closed up, and right after you heard the door click, you whip your head back in realization that you'd left your bag in the counter, along with your keys.

You shake the doorknob, trying to will the door open, though you knew it was pointless, "no, no, no, NO!"

You step back and stare at the windows of your shop. You ruffle your hair and huff as you debate how bad the idea of breaking the glass with the rock would be.

You stare that your sign that read Sweets & Sweeties, feeling taunted by it so suddenly, and then you remember you forgot another thing. The window on the rooftop was surely open from when you opened it to let out some steam. What's more, it looked like it was about to rain!

"Oh," you groan and wrap your arms around yourself, "thank goodness I left my brolly too."

You crouch in front of your unlit shop, feeling rather helpless.

You hear a bell ring and turn to the shop next door. Out comes George and Fred, much wiser than you, with their brollies and suitcases in hand. They call your name in unison and you sigh as you come to stand.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" one of them says.

You freeze at the pet name, and he seems to catch on. He points upward, "sweetie."

You turn to your sign and feel bashful. You awkwardly chuckle, "right, I-"

"You alright?" another asks.

You look between them, "yeah," and shake your head, "no, ehhh, sorry... I... which is," you point in confusion, "which?"

"George," the one to your right raises a hand.

"Fred," the one to your left raises a hand.

"Right," you lower your head as you shake it, "sorry, I don't-"

"You'll get used to it," they say in unison.

You huff as you look back at them, both of their lips are pursed, "right..." you turn to your shop and point, "I, eh... locked myself out."

They turn to where you did.

"And I left my bag..."

They turn back to you.

"And my keys."

They make a face.

"And my brolly," you turn to you feet for a moment, "and the window in my roof open."

"Oooh," they say at once. George bares his teeth, "bad luck."

"And," Fred adds, looking up, "it looks like it's about to rain."

"I know!" you gasp, placing your hands on both sides of your head.

For a moment, the three of you stand there, soaking in your misfortune. A moment later, George turns to his brother and says, "hang on."

Fred turns to him.

"Don't we have a window in the roof, Fred?"

Fred turns to you, "that we do, George."

George turns to you too, "how are you with heights?"

"Ehhh..." your lips part, "....fine?"

With that, the twins head to the entrance of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, beckoning you over. They reopen the lights, leave their things by the door, and lead you upstairs.

"Now," George (you think) says, "I'd like to think our roof's pretty sturdy, but," he pulls out wand from his coat jacket, "I can always do a good ol' Levioso if anything goes awry."

You are comforted by the thought and nod as you make your way up. When you get to the top, you see a singular tiny window by the side of the roof and you momentarily wonder if this was a good idea.

"D'ya know what," George (you think) says, turning to his brother, "you should go down and watch her as she crosses, so in case anything happens," he points, "you can make sure she doesn't fall."

Fred (you think) shakes his head, "why me?"

"Because it was my idea to cast Levioso, Fred," George (you were right) retorts.

"Then you go down!" Fred whines.

"I'm not going down," he crosses his arms, "I just got here."

"Yeah, so did I—"

"SCISSORS, PAPER, ROCK!"

You watch to the instant match the twins have, finding one rock and scissors at hand. George grins, raising his winning fist. Fred rolls his eyes and sighs. He turns to you before going down.

George smiles and motions with his head, "come on then, I'll help you up."

He drags a box towards the window and reaches a hand out to you. You take his hand and step up, then reach for the sides of the window, pulling yourself up to get on the roof. You are glad their window was right in front of yours and that it wasn't a far walk at all.

Fred, who just got outside, catches his breath before cupping the sides of his mouth, "careful!"

You turn to him from below and call back, "trying!"

George watches you closely as you cross to the other side. He probably shouldn't think the wobble of your limbs endearing, but he does. The moment reach your window, he claps, "aye!"

You are quick to jump down, grunting as you do so. You turn around and smile at George who was already smiling back at you. He raises his hands, "you did it, sweetie!"

"I did, wheezing wizard!"

"Well," he tilts his head, "it's Wizard Wheezes but..." he shrugs, "you can just call me Georgie."

You raise your brows.

"I- I mean George."

You chuckle and purse your lips as you shake your head, "too late, Georgie."

"Now, hold on-"

"See you downstairs, Georgie!" you give a toothy grin as you close your window. You bite your lip and giggle to yourself for a moment, "cutie."

Georgie clenches his jaw as he stares the window. He sighs and kicks the box away before closing it, "damn."

[ressjeon]

pretty doll | kim line (m.)

genre/au: smut, slight bdsm? (i have no idea what AU this is but you’ll see)

summary: when Namjoon left, he said to stay put and you obeyed as usual but why did he leave you with his roommates when they were this hot?

wc & rating: 5.6k | 18+

warnings/content: explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, oral (both receiving), fingering, deep throating, face fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration (spitroasting, we're back lmao), exhibitionism (public sex 🗿), praise kink, reverse cowgirl, edging, cum play, degradation, size kink, groping, pet names, etc.

a/n: happy taejincember y'all it's been a long ass time! anyways, this was my dream years ago so it's initially written in 2021 and i'm finally posting it lmao. thank you to the amazing Danica ( @dee-ehn ) for this very very gorgeous banner & divider 💞

It’s hard to explain the relationship between you and Namjoon.

But you never bother explaining when people around you ask because you’re not the type to put labels anyway, and so is he. This simply is an arrangement and you’re not together by any means so you’re both free to do whatever you want, with whoever you want.

There are only two rules that you both have been following for a while now though. One is simple; no kissing on the lips with other people but the other one’s a bit complicated. Enough that it took a while before you got used to this dynamic between you and Namjoon, causing small arguments here and there around the beginning. However, he has always been patient and handled you with care, showing it to you in his own ways that you learned to tune in with it in time.

Like right now.

.

“ahh..Namjoon” you whine for the nth time to no avail. He's been eating you out since the moment you arrived here in the park earlier like a starved man as he always does. Well, according to him, your cunt’s the only one he devours, part of the other rule that you both agreed on. 

When his mouth is not on you, his two fingers are, sometimes three, before he stops. He does this when he senses that you're about to cum, chuckling deeply before releasing the swing that you’re sitting on to tease you further. You’ve been squirming nonstop on it due to the cold breeze that’s been hitting your wet core since the first time he fingered you here. 

You do love it but Namjoon’s mercilessly doing this to you...

In some random playground, in broad daylight, in this chilly weather.

Good thing there’s no one in sight but even then, that would’ve been the last thing on your mind with how Namjoon’s torturing your pussy like he’s punishing you. It also doesn’t help that you’re not wearing any panties as that is what he prefers when you're with him. He reasons that it’ll be easier to finger you or eat you out anywhere he likes. 

He does the same. Going commando each time you go out since you’re always needy when he’s near, always wanting to suck him off, always wanting to sit on his cock no matter where the both of you are.

One of his strong arms catches the curve of the swing seat you’re sitting on, stopping it from hitting him when it sways forward. Then he brings back his fingers inside your swollen pussy again, making you shut your eyes, breath hitching with each intrusion. All you can focus on is his long fingers massaging your abused walls at this point, your knuckles turning white while gripping the swing chain so hard because you’re nearing your peak once again.

Your eyes suddenly open when he reaches that soft spot inside you, moaning louder than you’ve already been as soon as you lock your eyes with him. He’s looking at you intently, as usual, never straying his eyes from observing your face while his fingers continue pumping in and out of your pussy. 

Namjoon’s always been handsome but he’s looking more gorgeous to you from where he’s kneeling, not seeming to mind the small wood chips digging into his denim jeans. The strands of his short honey-blond hair above his undercut being blown by the wind, causing your walls to flutter more around his wet fingers whose pace is now turning slow. You squeak when Namjoon continues to retreat his fingers, spreading your pussy lips apart before pushing in, scissoring your pussy again.

And then he removes them abruptly and doesn’t swing you back this time.

“sorry doll, we have to get going. i have some last-minute holiday shopping to do”

You pout at Namjoon’s words, eyes nearly watering at what he said. His tone’s apologetic as he stands up from the ground, holding his hand out for you to take but you’re still reluctant to leave. He retracts and waits for you instead at the wooden edge of the box, face teasing as he wipes his cum-coated fingers against his denim jeans which further added to your distress.

“i didn’t cum yet” you whine in displeasure, looking up at him with big eyes from your seat, hoping that’ll change his mind about staying a bit and letting you finish but he doesn’t falter. 

So you’re back to pouting, the dazed sensation from his edging beginning to leave your body. 

Realizing that he’d never really budge, you stand up and turn around to check if you didn’t leave any mess on the swing seat. Thankfully there’s none, though the embarrassment stays in you despite frequently fooling around with Namjoon in public places like this. You’re trying to pull down your skirt as you’re nearing him, to make sure the wind doesn’t blow it up and expose your bare pussy to any possible passerby. 

He seems to be enjoying seeing you sulk as the grin on his face widens, "later okay? you can stay at my place for a while". 

Namjoon cages you with his big arms and you lean on his chest, nodding in relief at what he said. He never breaks his promises so you have a hunch that he must be planning something for later then. Excitement courses through you at the thought but his edging made you a bit hungry though, your stomach growling a bit which doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

"let's go Joonie, hope you have my favourites there" you smile sheepishly as you look up at him and he chuckles in return, one hand sliding down to your waist to hold you as you both start walking to his place.

The fancy apartment building looms over you both as you arrive at Namjoon's place. He shares it with his two other close friends, Seokjin and Taehyung. They’re gorgeous like him and each time Namjoon brings you here, you couldn’t help but steal glances and ponder their whereabouts when they’re not around. You’re rarely here that’s why and when you are, they're either both absent or the other one's missing.

You’re wondering if they’re here this time though, you haven't seen those two in a while.

.

Namjoon opens the door with his own key, pulling you inside after setting them on the key rack. It’s something his roommates have implemented given the number of times he lost his keys. Their place is not that big for three people but the interior shows each of their tastes that somehow complemented one another. It's because they’ve known each other for years, gradually learning more about each other that you’re sometimes amazed at how synced they are in what they do. 

You instantly shiver at the change of temperature as soon as you enter their unit, the heater’s finally switched on much to Namjoon’s delight. The heat is warming you up but you’re feeling warmer seeing both his roommates sitting by the round kitchen table.

Namjoon nods to them as a greeting while he walks hurriedly towards his room. This leaves you awkwardly standing by the door, contemplating if you should follow him or join his roommates in the kitchen. You’re still not close with Taehyung and Seokjin despite Namjoon bringing you here for a little while now. You talk to them of course but Namjoon subtly demands your attention all the time. Quite a contrast because he never displays affection towards you when other people are around. It’s just him by nature, seeing as you’re not together anyways so you respected that.

Unable to decide, you drop to your knees to unbuckle your platform heels, facing sideways so they won't get to see your bare pussy. Namjoon’s just by his bedroom and you’re thinking of following him there for a quick fun. You’re still on edge but disappointment arises in you when he comes out with some bags in hand just as you’re out of your wedges. 

Namjoon takes a piece of paper from his pocket with one hand, unfolding it to double-check the list of things that he has to purchase. He’s already set on this, turning to you to give a quick hug before putting back his olive green jacket on.

"behave doll, hmm?" he pats your hair and you smile in return, dismissing the joke that you were about to make about his high-time plan as you bid him goodbye.

Seokjin and Taehyung know of you from the times Namjoon brought you to their place. They’re also aware of your "relationship'' so they aren’t fazed at how you and their roommate treat each other. Namjoon leaving you here alone with them is surprising though, they never thought that he’d let you out of his sight especially when other guys are around.

Before your arrival, they’re at the roundtable, munching the Christmas cookies that Seokjin baked earlier. Both men are facing the door when you and Namjoon enter, allowing Taehyung to steal glances at your bare legs. Seokjin elbows him after noticing and he coughs loudly before adjusting the way he sits and greeting Namjoon back. He shouldn’t look again but your skirt’s riding up and he’s tempted so he took another cookie to stop himself.

You haven’t looked at them but they can tell that you’re conflicted about whether to talk to them or not. However, your expression changes as soon as you spot the fridge, approaching it with eager eyes. Each man was about to talk to you but the greeting on their tongues halted when you suddenly bent your body after opening the fridge, exposing your bare pussy in front of them.

Taehyung grips his glass full of milk as he stares at your glistening cunt, almost choking as he tries to chew the cookies he's eating. He knows that he should look away because you’re technically Namjoon’s girl but he can’t help it. There's no way you’re not aware of what you’re doing to them, meaning, you might know how they see you already. He gulps a large amount of milk to clench his drying throat while he can hear Seokjin coughing excessively beside him.

“Give me some Tae” Seokjin discreetly asks beside him, still coughing a bit from choking on the cookies. Taehyung doesn’t even realize that he’s been holding the box of milk with his other hand this whole time, turning around to pass it to Seokjin and noticing the guilt in his hyung’s eyes when their eyes meet.

Like his younger roommate, Seokjin also can’t stray his eyes from your cunt. He tried looking away from your smooth legs when you came in with Namjoon earlier but he can't possibly do that now that you're purposely doing this in front of them. Not only that it shocked them but it also confused him a bit. Sure, he noticed your subtle glances on them before but that’s the only thing you’ve done so far. Still, he’s not sure what you’re planning but the mere absence of your undies shouldn’t have been a surprise; you’re Namjoon's “doll” after all. 

Taehyung thinks it's an invitation while he knows Seokjin will think it's a test. He’s not sure but you’re pushing their limits right now and the self-control that he’s been holding all this time is so close to snapping. You might be oblivious but Namjoon usually teases both him and Seokjin, flaunting you by putting you on his lap whenever you come over. He may act indifferent but his eyes hold that devilish look in them, knowing exactly how his roommates get riled up when you visit. You on the other hand are unaware, never giving Namjoon’s gestures any thought as something else. 

Seokjin didn’t think Namjoon would use you this time though, his most prized possession.

He leaves the table as soon as he recovers from coughing, going straight to the living room’s sofa which is just right across the roundtable to get a moment of clarity. That's failing cause he can see you and Taehyung from here. His younger roommate still sitting on his staring at you, more like at your swollen, wet cunt, fuck.

Seokjin shakes his head, thinking how absurd this whole thing is. Here they are, his younger friend still ogling at your pussy and him struggling from the pull to look back at your bent position.

The living room’s pretty tense at the moment. None of them can guess what your next step is or if you even have one. 

But you surely do, at least that’s what Taehyung’s been thinking, or you won’t be doing this without Namjoon around. His ogling gets disrupted when you stand up from the fridge, turning around to close it with a pack of soft breadsticks in your hands. He hadn't seen those when he scoured the fridge earlier so Namjoon must've hidden your favourite snack where only you can find that's why it took you a while.

Or maybe, you're simply teasing them.

He watches you sit beside him, excitedly opening the box of snacks Namjoon prepared for you. Your sole focus seems to be only on your food, not looking at him or anywhere else. He wonders if you’re purposely ignoring him though, prompting him to make the first move but he won't. 

Until you give in first.

Initially, Taehyung wanted to break the air and start a conversation with you as soon as you sat beside him but you seemed to be very hungry. Namjoon surely did something to you before coming here, that explains why you've been agitated this whole time. Your pussy lips were twitching earlier and your display of hunger just proves Taehyung's assumption.

For now, he’ll let you eat in peace to gain back that energy that he’ll drain as soon as you give him a sign. His eyes, however, can't stop staring at how you bite a breadstick. Your luscious lips closing on it looks so inviting that it’s making his mind imagine how they would look really beautiful around his dick.

"do you want some Tae?" you surprise him with that soft voice of yours, eyes looking straight at him as you bite the breadstick and slowly chew it in your mouth, without blinking.

There it is.

Taehyung secretly smiles, almost cursing and closes his eyes for a bit before standing up. He doesn't miss the surprised look on your face when you just realize that he's only wearing a towel underneath. He was showering earlier and finished just in time when you and Namjon arrived. Of course, he didn’t wanna miss seeing you just in case you were only here for a bit, changing can wait. 

He can’t pass the opportunity up even though Namjoon’s aware of his attraction to you already. Taehyung never hid it unlike Seokjin, he was very obvious since the first time they met you. He knows that he shouldn’t feel this way, the thought of hitting on you never even crossed his mind before. 

But you’re extremely making it hard for him right now.

His grin widens as he walks around the table to stand before you, prompting you to turn and look up at him.

“yeah, i want some”

He retracts his smile as his eyes meet yours. Big eyes looking at him questioningly though he’s starting to believe that you know what you’re doing to him when you swallow the breadstick entirely, your lips moving back up and slowly sucking the tip while the naive look in your eyes is slowly changing into a cheeky one.

Fuck it, he’ll just apologize to Namjoon later.

Taehyung sees your eyes scanning his half-naked body until they descend toward his crotch, a bulge already visible. Hesitation suddenly emerges in your eyes because Namjoon could come home any minute and catch you both in a compromising position. But then you put down the breadstick you’re holding, reaching out to the wet tissue on the table to clean your hands before putting them on top of the towel that’s covering him.

He notices right away that you understand how he’s expecting you to do something to solve his huge problem. He looks at Seokjin who’s giving him the “don’t you dare” look but he sets his jaw at him, his eyes determined on his decision to play with you. He shifts back at your eager eyes looking up at him while one of your hands starts rubbing his bulge, realizing that you’re waiting for something from him.

“go ahead, baby”

Your core clenches at the pet name, smiling excitedly at Taehyung as you pull down the towel that’s wrapped around his hips. What welcomed you is a very angry-looking huge cock that almost slaps you in the face, its tip already coated with precum. You bite your lower lip at how delicious it looks, your mouth watering to taste him.

Namjoon may punish you for it later on but you can't help but be petty that he didn't let you cum earlier. Placing your hand around Taehyung's throbbing cock, you stick out your tongue to give his tip kittenish licks. He lets out a deep groan at that and you really like it so you begin stroking the rest of his cock, hearing more of his deep moans for the first time.

Seokjin calls your name when you're about to swallow Taehyung's cock in your mouth. Why he did, he doesn’t fucking know. He just felt left out somehow even which is hilarious seeing as he’s the one who’s purposely avoiding you. He’s not doing any better when he can clearly see you and his youngest roommate.

Staying away was no use as he couldn’t get the image of your wet cunt out of his mind. He should've just gone back to his room to end this madness, at least one of them has to be sensible. But Taehyung already gave in and Seokjin might not get another chance to have you.

He’s been doing his best to calm himself down from wanting to pounce on you since you are Namjoon’s doll.

But then you turn to him in surprise and he sees your eyes move down towards his crotch, to the bulge that he’s been sporting. He didn't think you'd bother entertaining him when you're already occupied with helping Taehyung.

Seokjin watches how you mindlessly bite your lip while looking at it. He’s fucked. He’d been too obvious and maybe calling your name earlier was also because he wanted to see this exact reaction from you.

Looking back at Taehyung, he sees the smirk on the younger roommate's face, already knowing that his hyung is definitely getting more riled up at his stunt. He hates how the younger’s plan is working even more so when your hands start pumping Taehyung absentmindedly, causing the younger one to hiss. It's a sight that Seokjin finds so hot that he couldn’t help but take out his dick from his pants and calls your name again. 

Your eyes bulge out at how big his cock is, and like entranced, you stand up and leave Taehyung standing there. While approaching Seokjin, your eyes never strayed away from his cock. You want a taste since it’s so big like Taehyung’s, yearning to feel its weight in your mouth.

However, he stops you right when you are about to kneel between his legs, turning your body instead which confuses you. Your eyes search for Taehyung, who's still watching you both from where he's standing, fully naked with the towel now perched on the chair that you were sitting on earlier. 

A frustrated whine was going to erupt from you until you felt Seokjin’s fingers lifting your skirt, making you bend forward as a reflex. Thinking he’s going to eat you out, Taehyung immediately goes in front of you to help you balance but Seokjin’s just staring at your bare pussy. You want to lower your body to sit down on him so you can also pay attention to Taehyung, whose cock is in front of your face. Seokjin stops you though, hands moving to spread your ass cheeks further so he can see your twitching cunt more.

"why nothing under baby?" he finally asks, his raspy voice filled with curiosity as to why you went commando today. This is the first time that he's talking to you directly other than calling your name earlier, adding the "baby" in it now that causes a stir in your stomach. 

"mhhmm, so that he can fuck me anywhere" you whine, hoping that he'll hurry up so they can fuck you already. 

Seokjin should’ve expected it, and the mention of Namjoon momentarily brings back his guilt about what he and Taehyung are about to do with you. As if you can sense his dilemma, he watches your head turn around as your hand covers his, smiling at him to assure that everything is okay with you.

Relief washes through Seokjin's face as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s not just daydreaming this whole thing because you do want them both. He doesn’t know what to do later when Namjoon arrives but for now, he’ll just enjoy what you’re offering. While he’s still contemplating, you decide to sit down on him, your damped pussy lips sliding on top of his swollen dick which causes him to groan inwardly. 

You don’t waste time as soon as you settle on Seokjin’s lap and take Taehyung’s awaiting cock in your mouth, sucking half of him off slowly and giving kitten licks around his tip until he gets impatient, one hand withdrawing from holding up your arms to grip your head. 

Taehyung eyes you with a warning look, clearly not amused at your teasing so you immediately take him whole until his tip reaches the back of your throat. Enjoying the sound of your gagging, he thrusts again, causing your head to bump against Seokjin who’s dipping his head a little to focus on finding any ounce of resistance within himself. Taehyung finds this entertaining, noticing his older roommate refusing to hold you even though you started grinding on Seokjin’s dick unconsciously while sucking him off.

“let go hyung, we all knew how much you want to fuck her” 

Seokjin seethes at Taehyung’s remarks, glaring at him because the younger one’s right no matter how much he denies it. Despite the innocence you’ve been showing each time Namjoon brings you over, the look you always give to him and Taehyung is quite the opposite. You do this without Namjoon noticing but they do, further confusing them about how you see them. 

They shouldn’t care in the first place but the mutual interest between you is what pushes Seokjin to release a deep sigh before gripping your bare waist, hard.

“fuck”

You hear Seokjin curse before moaning at his hard grip, making your breathing quicken. Finally.

Out of all of them, he’s the hardest for you to decipher, not knowing what he’s capable of doing so you’re beyond thrilled now that he’s finally giving in to you. Your excitement increases while hearing him rummage through the side table’s drawer, possibly looking for a stash of condoms so you release Taehyung’s cock from your mouth to turn around to stop Seokjin.

Revealing to them both your intention all along. You never let anyone fuck you raw aside from Namjoon as it is the same for him if he’s fucking others but-

"i want to treat you..", you try wiggling your hips under his grip before looking up in front to meet Taehyung’s blown-out pupils as you continue, "the both of you". Taehyung’s hold on your arms tightens, causing you to wince a bit but a grin graces your lips which didn’t go unnoticed by him. Seokjin stops his movements too, still processing what you just said before bringing his attention back to you.

"you're gonna treat us baby?" a yelp comes out from you when Seokjin suddenly slaps your bare pussy. He spreads your legs further, both hands creeping in your inner thighs under your skirt until you feel his fingers prod on your already wet folds but one of your hands left the other man’s grip to stop him.

"N-Namjoon fingered me already" you inform them both breathlessly, acting a bit shy with your tone but both men know what your real intentions are through the mischief that they see in your eyes.

Your skirt’s still on and Seokjin starts tugging it, clearly demanding for it to be removed so you let go of Taehyung's hold so you can take it off, with Seokjin assisting you until the skirt's discarded somewhere on the floor.

Now you’re only on your pastel purple buttoned-up crop top as Seokjin guides your hips back to him. He fists his cock with one hand, guiding it along your folds as he brings your body down to his cock. When your cunt finally opens up to him, Seokjin releases a guttural moan, closing his eyes as your warm walls envelop his cock.

"big, oh fuck, so big" you whimper, mouth falling open at the slow intrusion because fuck, you feel like his cock could literally split you in half. You continue lowering yourself more, with Taehyung assisting you with your arms until the back of your thighs touches Seokjin's firm thighs.

“can see your pussy now being stuffed clearly with my cock" 

Seokjin breathes out against your shoulders, his mind reeling at how fast everything happened. You were just teasing them both earlier and now his cock’s inside you. You’re even letting him fuck you raw, which he never expected. He’d think this treat from you is too much but who is he to complain? he's been wanting to fuck you since the first time Namjoon introduced you to them.

You grab Taehyung's hips as leverage, pulling yourself up so you can position your legs by Seokjin's thighs. Planting one of your palms at the edge of the couch, you drop your body back to Seokjin's lap and start rolling your hips on his dick. The man behind you groans in surprise, hands latching on your hips to guide you at once.

Suddenly though, Taehyung grips your hair to pull you back towards his neglected cock which you immediately put back in your mouth. Humming around him, you bob your head faster and Taehyung couldn’t help but buck his hips further in your mouth at that.

"fuck, Joon-hyung must've trained your throat a lot hmm? you take me very well baby" he caresses your head and you preen at his praise, opening the back of your throat more to take him deeper than you already are.

“still.. so tight” Seokjin continues to moan deeply behind you, hands alternating between groping what he can touch and guiding your hips as he bounces you on his cock. 

Taehyung lolls his head back at how warm your mouth is around him. He only opens them when you begin moaning more around his cock again, his eyes focusing this time on your bouncing breasts. Your crop top is doing nothing to hold them.

“hyung, take it off” he signals a dazed Seokjin who starts unbuttoning your crop top right away.

Taehyung takes a sharp breath, seeing your breast bounce freely now that you’re fully naked that he couldn’t resist fucking your mouth more. His rough thrusts cause your eyes to water which Taehyung finds so sexy, his cock twitching at the sight. Seokjin’s the same with how his hands are greedily groping your bare tits, trying to thrust up into you at the same time.

"pretty..pretty doll..shit"

Your legs are on fire at this point but you asked for this and it’s worth seeing both men crumble because of you. Taehyung’s about to cum, his lower abs flexing and his hand's tightening their hold on your head. He spews more curses so you eagerly match his thrust, winking at him as soon as he locks eyes with you which takes Taehyung by surprise.

He might not be aware of your dynamics with Namjoon as much as Seokjin’s but he knows his hyung.

He’s fucked but it stupidly triggered his release. He cums a lot, so much that even if you try swallowing all of them you couldn’t and you’re not allowed to. Instead, you open your mouth to show him how you play his cum around inside your mouth before letting it dribble on your chin, dripping through the column of your throat down to your perky breasts that Seokjin has been massaging nonstop.

His labouring breaths are a sign that he’s about to cum as well but you’re just the same, feeling the lower band of your stomach about to snap. Now that your mouth’s not stuffed with Taehyung’s cock anymore, your moans are loud and clear. Seokjin’s hitting your soft spot continuously, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“shit, omy-” a loud cry came out from you, your back arching and jerking while you gushed on Seokjin’s cock. Your head landed on his shoulder, whining at his unchanging pace as he too was chasing his own release. Seokjin’s hold on you got firmer and he eyes Taehyung quickly before pulling you up, the latter catching you while he shoots his cum on your ass.

You surprise Taehyung when you nuzzle your face against his groin, licking his cock clean after and an amusing smile appears on his handsome face.

“cockslut” he mutters, brushing your messy hair away from your sweaty face. The raunchy pet name elicits a giggle from you as you let go of his hardening cock. Unbelievable. The grin on your lips stays on until you feel your legs straining from exhaustion.

Seokjin’s cumming so much that when you tried sitting back on his lap, his cock’s still releasing more cum. You take his twitching cock and place it between your ass cheeks as you sit, rubbing on it which causes him to release even more.

All three of you are exhausted, feeling the very wet and sticky cum on your bodies and his softening cock between your soaked pussy. Your eyes are barely open but a satisfied grin graces your lips. Taehyung decides to kneel in front of you, playing with the drying cum around your breasts while you're resting. They’re still sensitive to Seokjin’s nonstop assault the entire time they’re fucking you.

He grabs your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he smiles at you fondly.

"baby's a whore"

"yeah, filthy baby" Taehyung muses in response, looking at you with amusement. Seokjin does the same, murmuring praises beside your head and leaving a peck on your shoulder while caressing your arms.

"filthy doll"

The deep voice that answers from the corner of the room halts the three of you, immediately changing the once dazed atmosphere.

Taehyung’s eyes turn to you who mirror the same nervous eyes as he does. You start to squirm on Seokjin’s lap as you see Namjoon standing by the door, holding some bags full of Christmas decorations and gifts. His expression is void of anything which makes Taehyung and Seokjin at a loss on what to do next. The apology is ready to come out from him as he eyes Seokjin who turns quiet and shares the panicking eyes, unsure of how to hold you now that Namjoon caught the three of you.

“hyung-” he starts nervously, his plan on fucking you after was replaced by the need to explain the whole situation to his newly-arrived roommate but Namjoon cuts him off, only staring at your dishevelled form with one raised brow.

"did you enjoy your treat doll?"

Both men are too stunned to speak at Namjoon’s question, their eyes widening in confusion at their roommate and how this conversation’s progressing. Namjoon normally doesn’t share what’s his and as much as they’re not sure if you are, you’re still considered as his so the man’s amused face further confused the other two.

"i did", you meekly answer him, wiping Taehyung’s cum from your mouth with the back of your hands before standing up with wobbling legs as you walk towards him.

Seokjin hisses when your body’s warmth leaves him, instantly grabbing the tissues on the table to start cleaning himself up and putting back his clothes on. Taehyung’s still fully naked with his perplexed expression, eyes never leaving you as you walk towards their roommate so Seokjin hands him something to cover himself up with.

Namjoon catches your waist, eyes scanning through the mess of his roommates’ cum on your body. He takes a coat from the standing rack’s hook and puts them on you, ignoring the stains of cum that will transfer (presumably if it’s his). He stares at you for a bit and you’re beaming at the pride in his eyes for fooling his roommates and getting what you want at the same time.

A smile slowly appears on his lips and to your surprise, Namjoon kisses your forehead gently, in front of his roommates who mirrored your surprised reaction. This is the first time Taehyung and Seokjin witnessed Namjoon be affectionate to you with them around. But his strong grip around your waist says the opposite, one hand coming down to grope your ass, earning a whimper from you after. Just a reminder to everyone who you really belong to.

"do you have my request?" you break the silence in the living room, acting all normal like you didn’t just fuck Namjoon’s roommates in their living room and him catching you three. Your focus is only on him, looking at his eyes with obvious intent.

"of course" he gives a dimpled smile and takes your hand. He stops by the table to put down some of the shopping bags except for a specific bag that you’ve been eyeing since he arrived. 

As you both retreat to Namjoon’s room, he turns to his roommates who are still glued to where they’re standing.

"consider this as a birthday gift, for you both"

e/n: ngl i miss being this nasty lol 21 year old me was definitely something else. the writing's a bit different since i haven't opened this doc in about 2 years 😅

[moonstonejpg]

support

k. bakugo x reader

where bakugo has a crush on a girl in the support course

w.c: 1,707

tags: pure fluff, kiri and denki being the best wingmen in the world, oh also ua is a college not a high school bc i said so

bakugo is my comfort character i love him sm and want to protect him at all costs ♡

If he didn’t know any better, he would think the sudden pounding of his heart meant it was acting up again like it did occasionally after Edgeshot revived him, because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t have crushes. And despite it being a natural part of life, it freaks him out a lot more than he’d care to admit. Because Bakugo has always had the same plan, get into UA College and become a top ranked hero; nowhere in his plan did he account for the girl with a heart of gold in the support course.

“Katsuki!” You call, arms full of some unknown material as you jogged towards him. You had a bright smile on your face, and your eyes were lit up with excitement. He couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across his lips as he gazed down at where you skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I did it! Here—hold this please.” You shove the item in your arms towards him, hands animatedly waving towards the different places on as you explain. It took a few moments for Bakugo’s mind to catch up to what was happening in front of him, but once it did his gaze snapped up to meet your eyes in shock.

“—and so, basically, you put this on under your hero suit and it absorbs the shockwaves from your blasts, turning it back into itself to heat your muscles.”

He blinks, his thoughts spinning to the conversation from last week when you had caught him sitting on the rooftop of the college. Instead of leaving, you plopped down next to him, starting a conversation after a few hesitant moments.

“I know you love your quirk, and honestly I do too!” you giggle, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “But if there was something you could change—or well, something to help, what would it be?”

He cocks his head to the side, mulling over your question; he wants to give you a good answer, an honest answer. So, he dips into the vat of his insecurities, unearthing a small secret he’s never shared with anyone.

“I—when I use it too much my arms and shoulders start to ache, and even if I pause to conserve my energy it seems to just leak out and then…eventually both body parts end up going numb. It’s been happening more frequently now that we are training longer, and it—it sucks to be quite honest.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, eyes fixed on a distance point on the horizon. He glances sideways at you, noticing the indent between your eyebrows. Your tongue pokes out, and he realizes this is your thinking face. He’s amazed that he can see the wheels turning, and wonders what’s going on in your brain.

It’s silent for a few moments, before you jump up, an excited gleam in your eye. You start to leave, pausing to turn back to him, your face now serious. “I won’t tell anyone; your secret is safe with me.”

He nods once, and the seriousness evaporates as you smile at him, then disappear down the stairs.

“Was…is this okay?” You ask suddenly, the excitement in your eyes dimming slightly as he stared dumbly at you, not a single word leaving his lips since you handed over the gadget. “I—I just thought that—I can take it back!”

“No, I—"

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I had just thought…well, either way it doesn’t matter.” You reach your hands out to take the thin fabric back, but he holds it above your head, forcing you to stop and look at him in surprise.

“I love it, you just—you surprised me is all.” He mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I wish I could do something to thank you, something other than just standing here looking like a fool.”

“I don’t need anything from you, really! It’s, well, it’s a gift.” You reply quietly, twisting your hands together then shoving them back behind your back. There’s a light pink stain on the apples of your cheeks, and Bakugo gets the alarming urge to kiss you. Instead, he fists the cloth in his hands and lowers his arms, cradling the material to his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers, still in shock that someone would do something like this for him.

You nod once, a soft smile on your face as you turn and leave the hallway, his eyes not leaving your back until you’re just a speck at the end of the corridor.   

Hours later he’s still thinking of the exchange; feeling incredibly stupid for not asking for your number at the very least. He’s supposed to be helping Kirishima and Kaminari study for their exam in the library, but how could he possibly do that when all he wants to do is replay your smile over again on a never-ending loop.  

“Bakugo? Hey, Katsuki!”

Fingers are suddenly snapping in front of his face, effectively ripping him from his thoughts. “What?” He grumbles out, smacking Kirishima’s hand away from his face.

“What’s up with you lately, dude?” Kaminari asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugo doesn’t respond, distracted by the familiar girl at the far end of the rows of books.  

Kirishima throws his elbow into Kaminari’s side, rolling his eyes at the huff of indignation the blonde lets out. He tilts his chin up to the other end of the room, and that’s when they notice Bakugo’s eyes locked on to where you’re seated, book in hand.  

They watch, transfixed as a slow smile stretches across the blonde’s face, his chin nearly dropping in his upturned hand to watch you.

“Oh. Oh my god.” And suddenly everything makes sense to the pair. Kirishima and Denki lock eyes, secretive smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“She’s really pretty.” Kaminari muses, shutting his textbook and leaning back in his chair.

“Mm.” Katsuki grunts, only half paying attention.

“And way smarter than you.” Kirishima says, eyes locked on his friend.  

“Wait, what?” Bakugo asks, attention snapping back to his friends.

“So the day has finally come…our blasty boy has officially grown up.” Kirishima pretends to wipe non-existent tears, sniffing a little.

“What are you two idiots talking about?” Bakugo asks gruffly, flipping a page in his textbook.

“Oh nothing, just—"

“When’s the wedding?” Kaminari asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Again, what are you even talking about?”

“You have a crush!” Kaminari coos.

“I mean, I would like to crush your heads together.” Bakugo mumbles, but they can’t miss the way his cheeks turn pink. He avoids all eye contact, choosing instead to pretend to read the page in front of him. “She ah.” He clears his throat, “She made me this material to go under my hero suit, something about the shockwaves from my explosions being fed back into the material to…well, anyway, she brought it for me today. And I should have asked for her number, but…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.  

I’m scared.

Kirishima puts a steady hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, knowing the fear his friend feels is more than warranted. Bakugo is silent for a few moments. And then, “I have all of these hard edges, and I don’t know how to be soft.”

“You don’t need to be soft; you need to be yourself.” Kaminari whispers, smiling at him. “And something tells me she probably feels the same way about you.”

Kirishima and Kaminari lock eyes again before standing and calling your name. Bakugo watches in abject horror as they approach you, his knee bouncing faster as they speak, the distance too great to listen to what exactly was being said. His eyes flit across the trio, panicking slightly.

He knew deep down that his friends just wanted him to be happy, but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to leap across the room and strangle them both. Bakugo briefly considers blowing the entire room up but decided against it at the thought of another bill being sent to his parents.

He watches as you put your book face down, eyes moving between his friends. They say something, then you frown before responding. The exchange feels like hours but is only a few minutes before you stand. You look over, locking eyes with Bakugo, then begin to make your way over to him.

He catches both Kaminari and Kirishima shooting him a thumbs up, before scuttling out of the library, leaving their books and backpacks behind where Bakugo sits. He scrambles out of his chair, choosing instead to lean a hip against the edge of the table as you approach.

“Hi.” He whispers, reaching a hand back to scratch his neck.

“Hi.” You reply, pressing your hands together before twisting them together again. He recognizes the movement from hours before, cataloguing the nervous habit in the file in his brain under your name. “They said you had something to tell me?”

“I—you make my chest feel weird.”

“Um, what?” You squeak out.

“No! No, I mean—god, I’m fucking this all up.” He heaves out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling before locking eyes with you. “I appreciate your gift, more than you know. And I like how smart you are, and that I can see the wheels turning in your head when you’re thinking really hard. I like how you aren’t afraid to talk to me, and I haven’t…I’ve never felt like this about another person before. You haven’t left my mind since the day I met you, and I-I like you, a lot.”

Your jaw drops slightly, eyes flickering back and forth across his face. He swallows, taking a step towards you before hesitantly reaching to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can I take you on a date?” He asks quietly, swallowing nervously.

You blink before a smile splits your face, and you nod. He smiles back, and before you lose courage, you push up on the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek, giggling when you pull away and see the now bright red color flooding his cheeks.

“I like you too, Blasty.”  

[takes1]

[final part] kuroo x hard to get!reader

ohhh this was a fun little series. thanks for the support :)

warnings. nsfw, minors DNI

details. face sitting / riding kuroo / pining!kuroo / complicated crushes / hard to get!reader / switch!reader / switch!kuroo / rbf!reader / manager!reader / whiny!kuroo / training camp setting / degradation kink / quickie / play fighting kink / kuroo with a big ego / player!kuroo / 3.3k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu here. part one. part two. requests open.

There was only a small pause, short enough for him to realize what you were doing.

"Please just come in," He sighed, candid and contrite, "Until the storm passes."

At this point, you were both locked in a tense game of chess, unwilling to sacrifice too much truth at any given point, but unable to stop playing until somebody won. You let him slip your raincoat off of you and hang it up, gentle, attentive, playing eye tag for the length of time it took to close and lock the door.

The kitchen stole your attention almost right away, filled with the sounds of a ritual slaughter. The shouting was accusatory and excited, like someone had been deeply wronged.

"Stop that before you set something on fire!" Kuroo shouted.

He picked up the peace offering and carried it towards his needy, weary team.

Your eyes widened a little at his team captain voice, safe to react because his attention was split. You trailed behind him, hesitant, towards the commotion.

"Keep it down. We've got a guest."

The noise was broken for a moment of silence at the presence of hot food, landing right on the dining table, then a million eyes on you.

It looked like everyone was dressed comfortably because there were no girls around. You averted your eyes immediately from the few that were in just their underwear and found that most of them opted for no shirts.

None of them cared very much. They all went in on the giant bag like a pack of starving wolves, shoving each other out of the way, grabbing as many as they could hold all at once. One hit the floor and was picked up, placed right into somebody else's mouth for safe keeping.

You took a step back, closer to Kuroo. He was so tame compared to them. The bag was empty in 20 seconds; it would've been less than that, had they not been fighting over lukewarm scraps.

"Where's your Coach?" You surveyed the room and found nothing but Nekoma players, munching obnoxiously.

It was the most prevalent thing on your mind. You didn't want to be 'caught,' though your surface-level intentions were innocent and backed by evidence.

Right before you left your own team's corresponding lodging, Coach Ukai was rounding up all the guys, trying to put them down for bed like twenty rowdy toddlers. If everyone sat still, you'd be able to still hear him yelling down the pathway.

A short guy you caught earlier today as Yaku answered, between three big bites of a bun, "Oh, Coach Nekomata went to bed, like, an hour ago."

The guy was ancient. It made sense that he wouldn't be as involved as Ukai in his old age, but he also had no need to. His team was well-behaved. Despite their frenzy, they were still a much quieter group than Karasuno.

In fact, after all the initial thanks and praises sung for your angelic timing, it felt too quiet. You wanted to leave, get back to your familiar and fun team, despite the weather. Kuroo could sense it in your stiffness.

The team was preoccupied with their supper. He had to make some bold maneuver, or you would voluntarily forfeit and slink back in the rain- because that was somehow a more appealing option than admitting you wanted to have sex with him.

Fukunaga clocked the complicated mess that was your current dynamic for exactly what it was. Some weirdo mating ritual. First he noticed that Kuroo wasn't eating. Then that he was only speaking to you. He was the ticking clock personified, double fisting two delicious buns without blinking. His unwavering stare cut into you from across the kitchen.

You shivered at the intensity, shifted just a little towards Kuroo with your head turned, defensive, towards the lanky guy. "He's creeping me out."

Kuroo leaned further down to mutter against your hair, dismissive, "Him? Shouhei's harmless."

He lingered, bent at the waist, just to take in another breath of your hair. You smelled so good. He couldn't let you go back just yet.

"How about we go upstairs?"

Aside from Fukunaga, nobody had a mind to notice if you left now. It wasn't a 'Yeah, let's fuck,' but it was close, so you sat in hesitation for a good, still minute.

-

The pace naturally quickened the closer to the door you got, like you were being chased by something. It was mostly the threat of time, but the predatory vibe you both got from each other was substantial, like if you let your guard down for a second, the other would eat you alive.

There was a rushed cadence to the way you entered the room and how he slid the door closed- only slowing to completely lock it as quiet as possible.

Everything was still for a moment. The end game was in sight, and neither of you could predict who would be the first to let up. Would it end here, or as you were coming down?

"What's your deal?"

"What deal?" You snapped, arms crossed, glancing about the large room filled with pallets.

This was so risky. Nothing about the danger of getting caught up here appealed to you. You weren't sure if he understood how comprised you'd be if anyone heard about this- you'd have to quit your manager job, at least.

It made you rigid, inflexible conversationally and physically. He fought the need to cross his arms, too.

"Why did you really come over?" He threw his chin up at you. When he tried to close the distance, he noticed how you took a step back.

The irony was eating him alive; you were so delicate to work with, but merciless in your methods- and you just kept coming back around, sparing no time for him to find just the right angle to work through your impossible armor.

His dismal attitude marked the next words out of his mouth, "You just- get a kick out of torturing me, or something?"

A hum- no, a laugh. He looked at you to figure out what it really was, and found your expression a little softer.

You looked around the room, head rocking side to side, "Mmm...Yeah."

Kuroo rolled his eyes at how much it took for you to be honest with him. He muttered to himself on the way to his bedding. You could leave if you wanted, but he needed to sit down. Dealing with you made him tired.

It was passive enough to get you curious again. You came around eventually, taking the time to mosey through the little aisle of space between where everyone slept. He only looked up from his hands when he felt you sit and lean against his side.

The flinch back was too strong to be ignored. He winced at the way your brows screwed up, forming a negative, probably wrong idea of him already. He could hear you being let down.

"You're all talk," Your voice was kind, dismissive, but your gaze pierced right through him.

He had to act like it didn't hurt, as if you didn't just twist a knife in his stomach.

It wasn't his fault you had conditioned him to be wary of you, if he wanted to stay in your favor- if he wanted a fair chance at pleasing you.

It frustrated him that you put him in a box so quickly, inspiring rough and ready action.

But you didn't back down from the quick, hungry kiss he stole from your parted lips. It was a challenge, after all. You met it, leaned freely into it- fingers filling with his messy, still-wet hair, while he palmed at your waist to pull you into his lap.

"You're not a-," Kuroo cut you off on purpose with another kiss, so you pushed him against the floor, eyes narrowed at his smirk, "You're not a virgin, are you?"

Fingers hooked under the waistband of your pants, searching absentmindedly for your panties, he laughed- genuinely amused.

"Fuck no," Was a sigh, distracted by the subtle but undeniable rock of your hips on top of him.

The sensation was so much better than his hand. He pushed against you, eyes scouring every inch of the perfect sight before him.

"Then why are you acting like one?" You pulled your shirt off, tossing it a reachable distance away.

That look in your eyes was back as you struggled to undo the clasp on your bra for a second; what he could now read as 'You better be worth it.'

Kuroo sat up with a quickness, forcing you to rock back and lean against his thighs, his brow sifting through the implication of your words, but his eyes ready to deliver.

"What, I can't be a little nervous?"

Big, agile hands slid behind you with another crushing kiss.

Your bra was off in half a second, replaced with his warm palms. He groaned against your lips at the feeling- you melted a little into his hasty touch, his wordless declaration of desire.

You arched into his touch, into his kisses descending in a messy, wet flurry down your collarbone and over your perky buds. The addicting sensation of his tongue made your thighs squeeze, your hips to rolling over his with a gasp as you unbuttoned yourself.

Those big hands swallowed up your sides easily, so pleasant compared to the cold air that made your skin prickle.

Soon, you were pushing him again, harder because he wasn't as easy to remove this time.

His eyes searched you, watching you get up and only concerned for a moment before you took the rest of your clothes off, standing over him. He realized he couldn't catch his breath, perfectly still in awe at your confident smile, that self-imposed nudity you used just to get a rise out of him.

"Shit," He groaned. His back of his head hit his pillow and he openly palmed himself to the sight of you.

Those cat-like eyes were blown out, so dark against the whites of his eyes, a little hitch on his breath already before you could even think about sitting back down. You nudged his shin with your foot to bring him back to the land of the living, telling him to take it all off.

The guy was a nice size- worthy of some of his cocky attitude, at least. You sat on him to slide back and forth over him.

"This what you wanted, pretty boy?" Your eyes were smiling, but your little frown was what completed the look for him.

The clipped whine, loud, though it never got past his lips, told you yes.

You put your hands on his chest so he had to watch you slide over his cock, coating him, showing him how wet you had gotten from that killer body he flaunted around so freely. He was kind of a whore, and you wanted him to know it.

It felt heavenly but he would never have guessed it, based on that pissed off pout you still had. His nails dug into the fleshy part of your thighs, a big sigh to collect himself before he let go, hands clasped behind his head. It looked casual, enjoying the view.

"You wanna know what I want?" He teased.

You cocked a brow at him, still using his slippery member to get off with little circles of your hips. He rode a fine line.

"I wantcha to sit on my face."

Kuroo blew a kiss at you. It wasn't the kiss, rather the good idea that made you slow to a stop and hum.

"Oh yeah?" Your low-lidded eyes burned into his soul as you dipped to eye level.

Your breasts squished against him, a thumb brushing his glossy lips- you took his cock with one hand and lined him up against your pussy, sensitive head rubbing back and forth.

The little bit of pressure against you, as he bucked instinctively with a throaty groan, helped your point.

He was under a spell, breath shallow, his fingers coming undone with the built-in need to steady your hips and fuck you already.

You spoke to that struggle in his eyes, "You sure that's what you want?"

Kuroo unlaced his hands and, when you thought you had him, sitting further back on his cock, he pulled you up and off of him.

"Was saving just enough room for dessert, baby," He muttered, dark and restrained, but still managing a little bit of humor to shine through.

He sure did. That slick tongue of his did more than just aggravate the shit out of you- he could guess what you wanted by how you were riding his cock. Nothing too aggressive, just dizzyingly consistent and enthusiastic.

Because it was the notion of worship that got you off. How good did it feel? How much did you want to fuck him? That depended. How bad did he want it?

"F-uck," You moaned under your hand, legs shaking under the locked pull of his arms, "Fuck-mmnh!"

Kuroo's excited, well-placed moans vibrated against you, faltering your balance at the worst of times.

You kept a rough hold in that mess of black hair and rode his flat tongue with no shortage of eye contact.

It was like you hated each other, how vicious those looks got.

You couldn't stand it. You'd be damned before you came on his tongue. He was going to give you your orgasm with his cock.

When you tried to get off, he readjusted his grip, stronger-- you had to start prying his fingers, one by one, off of your thighs. He loved how whiny and cute you got in the struggle, but noticed you never once begged him to stop.

You jumped, failing one last time to get his arm off, at his silly groan buzzing against your clit, "Ah-!"

It took pressing your palms against his face to get him to let go.

His gaze was brutal, taking in the way your legs shook, as he pushed the rest of you off of his chin and onto his aching cock.

There was no point in changing positions. It was obvious you wanted to be on top. He wanted the view.

"O-ohh," You threw your head back, eyes screwed shut, at that perfect, pretty cock stuffed in you.

Your tight pussy took the breath out of him. His hands filled with your hips, bringing you slow, up and down over what you had been too proud to admit that you needed.

His low-lidded eyes took in every curve of your perfect body, every little bounce he fucked into you, especially the shocked expression taking your face. It wasn't dissimilar to what you had looked like watching him earlier that day.

"That feel good, pretty girl?" He raked his nails gently across your thighs.

He seethed at the intense feeling of you starting to fuck him right back. It was a move he hadn't experienced yet with any other partners.

And you got to watch him completely unravel before your glossy eyes.

"F-uck-!" He gasped, "H-oh, shit," was spilling out of his mouth, between the light sounds of him bottoming out into your soaking wet cunt.

His brows were screwed up, real vulnerable- it sent a chill through you and ended swirling up fast, turning into tension in your tummy that he threatened to fill.

You prayed nobody was in the hallway, or they'd be able to hear some downright incriminating sounds.

Your palm pressed over his loud mouth, barely swallowing your own whimpering to tell him, "Shh..."

The way you threw your weight back into his thrusts demanded a very whiny cry into your hand. You knew it; you knew he was a whiny fuck. You clocked him so well from the very beginning.

Maybe he would've been more of a dominant presence if he was used to dealing with girls like you- or maybe he liked giving up some responsibility, once in a while.

His big, strong hands groped at your tits as they bounced, brushing his skin just enough to get some sharp, rolling pleasure.

He slowed, his hips rolling deep into you- he moved out of your hand and took a breath through his mouth to gasp.

"You better not cum before me," You warned, a little stilted because of how close you were, but deadly serious.

Your resting face was just so bitchy. You looked like you hated him, but loved his cock by the way you fucked him.

Kuroo kept his edge at bay with his eyes unfocused, trying not to watch you. Just for you, just so he could feel you cum first.

He was so grateful -barely holding on, just a dumb toy for you to fuck at this point-, to hear a high-pitched break in your gasps, "Mm-!"

"A-h-mmn-!" You kept your sounds muffled so well with one hand, forcing him to keep his at bay with the other.

The tension in your face was incredibly cute. Probably the only look of its kind, when it came to what you were willing to show him.

It was all he could do to fuck you to the height of it, rough but so dangerously close after that he had to pull out halfway through yours.

And boy, were you glad to be keeping him quiet. That guy could wake up the whole camp if he wanted to.

He came all over his own tummy, sweaty and out of breath, not even pushing back against your hand. He looked exhausted. You were tired, too, but didn't wear it as clearly. You spared a minute to catch your breath.

A slow, little peck to his forehead.

"All talk."

You slid your hand off of him and composed yourself enough to stand, gathering up your clothes. You grinned at the deep frown you were able to conjure while he was still swimming in post-orgasm bliss.

Kuroo groaned, sleepy and filling back up with something unpleasant, running his fingers through hair. He sat up, still glossy with cum.

You were nearly dressed when he was carefully pulling his pants back on.

He was so broody at your words, grumpy when you got a tiny glance at his face- there was a shared, quiet understanding that he still needed to walk you back, so you quietly waited for him to wipe off in the bathroom and pull a jacket on.

The journey to get out the door was comical and exaggerated in nature. Lots of looking around corners, waiting for people to get distracted, for you to slip outside. Thankfully his team weren't concerned with your whereabouts.

Kuroo still had not said a thing to you until you were back at Karasuno's lodging. You had already made your peace with this as the end of it, entirely, and understood he wouldn't want to look at you again after tonight.

When you about to turn, to go inside, he spoke up.

"Did you get what you wanted?"

It was mean and assuming. You deserved it a little.

"Did you?"

He deserved it too. It felt like you both lost, in a way.

You leaned into a last-second kiss, hands coming out of your pockets to run your fingers through his hair again. It fell naturally into a very long, lustful thing between you. His hands pulled you against him, hot and heavy, hardly ready to let go when you heard some stirring from inside.

"Fuck, no," He admitted, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.

The door was unlocking.

"It's a long training camp."

You said it vague enough so Daichi would have no idea what you meant as you walked by him.

He threw a hard look to Kuroo before closing the door, who returned it tenfold.

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[katyawooga]

pLEASE sevika x idol/singer reader? :( I WANNWA DO THOSE CUTE DANCES INFORNT OF SEVIKA TO GET HER REACITON AEAEHAHAUAUUUAUAUAUAUAU

oh my gosh anon this is so cute!!! :3

men and minors DNI pretty pleaseee

also let's pretend the meeting at the vander statue didn't end in attacks from noxus for the purpose of this ask 😊 i started writing this when act 2 came out so imagine this is in between act 2 and 3

to absolutely no one's knowledge, sevika was a superfan of yours. zaun had very few 'celebrities' of sorts, but you, a breakout singer that used to be a girl-for-hire at margot's, had made a name for yourself.

you regularly held gigs around the undercity, most frequently on the roof of the chembarons' little lair at the very peaks of the underground. ever since silco shoved off, you've been able to spot his number two in the front row at nearly all of your shows.

the riots going on recently because of the colourful spectacle topside had temporarily paused your gigs, but that didn't stop you from supporting zaun and doing pop-ups to raise morale. sevika herself somehow got your contact and convinced you to come to a rally near the vander statue. you were excited to be apart of something so directly involved with jinx and protesting. you wore jinx-er attire and even brought flares for the audience.

"come onnn, shoot faster!"

you had also gotten jinx herself on stage with you. she happened to be a big fan of yours and one of the reasons sevika reached out for this gig. you sang jinx's favourite song together with the crowd bumping. her presence made the attendance a lot bigger and the atmosphere a whole lot more exciting.

"just a little bit of energy, yeah!"

you spotted sevika in her usual front row spot, admiring your act and jinx for finally getting out of her lair. sevika was holding the hand of a small blue-haired girl jumping around like a maniac watching jinx. it was a sweet sight, especially since they were both mouthing along the words of the song and sevika dancing a little with the girl hanging off her mechanical arm.

"i wanna try somethin' fun right now!"

the crowd set off their flares of blue and the scene was clouded with aqua while you and jinx continued to sing and entertain.

"i guess some people call it anarchy!"

—

after your numbers were over, you thanked the crowd, thanked jinx, and thanked sevika for planning it all and giving her credit where it was due. she was a little bashful but it made her all the more authentic to you.

"this was really fun!" you approached sevika once she had pawned off the small girl to jinx, the two of them giggling together. "i'd love to show more spots like this. i've never seen zaun so pumped up."

"you were great. you and jinx really hit it off on stage, the people loved you two."

it was your first real conversation with the left hand of zaun and it was a little silly how starstruck you were. she was a bigger fan of yours and you were the actual pop star here.

"i saw that you loved us too," you poked a little fun with her. "knowing all the lyrics, dancing along..."

she, of all people, got flustered and scoffed, waving off your words. she had a good time watching your act, just like she always did, but someone actually noticing it for once kind of embarrassed her.

"well, if ever you wanna see a little shimmy from me again, don't hesitate to reach out for a gig. with how much jinx, the kid, and i love your act, zaun'll be in the clouds with how high you've lifted our spirits."

parting ways with sevika and waving goodbye to jinx and (seemingly) her younger sister, you couldn't help but feel giddy. the most revered and loyal person in zaun was a fan of yours, she wanted to keep spotting your act, and now you had jinx as a wingwoman on stage. you never thought life could get any better as a little singer from the underground.

i'm sooooo sorry this took me so long But i am back to getting requests and asks written since i'm on break now :) feel free to send some!

[shrimpyjackal]

sorry if this was answered in a previous post, but how did peri become a villian/what led up to it?

AHEM, this is part 2 of the backstory!

Part 1

Well, Peri still havent quite fixed his skills in godparenting, so Irep is in Dev`s favor, especially with all that Da Rules loophole stuff.

This is not good for Peri-Weri, and pal desides to start with small changes in his tactics... Such as staying up late to discover more loopholes in the rules in advance, so he can impress his godkid.

However, after some time, his wand begins to act strangely, `cause cannot do all those things . Due to the limit on his magic and forbidding of Da Loopholes. Thank you, magic capper on the cane, you are doing your job.

This limits him a little bit, just a tiny bit NO HE FEELS LIKE SHIT. But Peri starts to question whether it is really necessary for him to wear this at all.

And yes, that was the moment when he took the thing off, it tickled his brain a bit. And then put it back on. The next night he repeated the proccess, but also tried to cast something. That was much easier. Then the next day. And next-

And then it was time for the Anti-Fairy Convention. Irep had to be there. PERFECT for a chance to demonstrate to Dev that his fairy godparent can do anything and HE is the awesome one here, not the lapis block-

So yeah thats pretty much the in- lore explanation there! Hope this helps!