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tender-rosiey · 8 months

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“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”

— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)

a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.

his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.

not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.

no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.

he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.

it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”

“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”

“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”

he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”

a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.

d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”

“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.

he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”

but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.

you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.

your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”

she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!

at least, that’s what he thinks.

d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.

how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.

his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.

a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.

GETO SUGURU:

geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.

he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.

to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.

aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.

for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.

that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.

each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.

and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.

another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.

that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.

so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.

“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”

you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”

he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”

one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.

now, you have two crying babies.

congratulations!

so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.

they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.

he should probably stop calling them that though.

NANAMI KENTO:

now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.

it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.

she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.

that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.

he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.

like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.

however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.

and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.

he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.

she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”

anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?

so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.

you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”

gojo gasps, “what?!”

you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”

nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.

with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”

she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”

“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”

a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”

your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense.

gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.

meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.

the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.

everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.

the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.

you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.

you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.

“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.

“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”

your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”

the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.

sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”

your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.

swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.

while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.

when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”

“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.

you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”

sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”

s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.

your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.

you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.

s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.

why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.

he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.

toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”

shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.

toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”

toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?”

your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”

another time was when you guys grocery shopping.

you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?

so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.

megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.

to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.

you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.

so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”

“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”

“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”

he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”

“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.

“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”

apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”

toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.

your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.

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incognit0slut · 2 months

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PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4

Behind Closed Doors 4

Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.

Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words

A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)

All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.

The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up.

There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.

This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.

How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.

You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.

Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”

There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”

Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”

“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.

“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”

You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”

"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"

“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”

And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”

You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.

How could you be upset about that?

"I'm not... mad.”

There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"

You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."

“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you?

"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.

"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”

Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.

Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.

"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.

“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.

“Do I?”

“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”

"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”

“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”

“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”

Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”

“And?”

You rolled onto your side. “And what?”

“Do you not miss my absence at work?”

“Well…”

“Well?” He prompted.

Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.

Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.

There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”

“…like what?”

“Like you’re out of breath.”

You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.

It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”

“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”

You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”

“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”

You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”

“In every way?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”

“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”

“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”

“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”

“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”

"I don't understand."

At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.

“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”

You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”

"Yes?" he responded innocently.

"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

"I find precise communication to be very important.”

You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”

His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"

"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”

You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.

He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."

You could, but you’d rather not.

"I didn't want to sound desperate."

"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.

“Tell me, what do you want now?”

You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.

“I want… you.”

“Tell me how you want me.”

Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”

“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.

Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.

Your hand began to move.

“I… I want your hands on me.”

“Where do you want my hands?”

“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.

“Everywhere?”

You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.

“On my hips…”

Your hand danced across your hips.

“My stomach…”

Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.

“Between my thighs…”

You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.

“Where else do you want me?”

Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”

“Tell me exactly where.”

“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“I…”

“Are you?”

“No…”

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”

“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”

You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”

"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”

There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.

“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.

“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”

You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”

“Describe it to me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”

And you wished he was the one touching you.

You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.

Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”

You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.

“Better?”

You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”

“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”

His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.

“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"

"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.

“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”

You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.

The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”

"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”

You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.

Yet look at how much effect he had on you.

"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"

"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."

"In a good way, I hope?"

“Very good,” you assured him.

You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”

You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.

"How does that feel?"

"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.

“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”

You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.

“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”

“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”

You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.

“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”

You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.

“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”

You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.

“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”

Your breaths came in short gasps.

“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”

Your legs fell further apart.

“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”

How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.

“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”

You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.

“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”

You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”

Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”

You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.

“Oh, fuck.”

“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”

You hummed a reply.

“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”

A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.

“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”

You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”

“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.

“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”

“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.

“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”

You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.

“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”

And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”

His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”

You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”

“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.

Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”

You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”

You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.

“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”

Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.

"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”

With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”

The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.

Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.

“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”

A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"

You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”

"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"

You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”

“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”

You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”

Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.

“What?”

“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."

"Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Well, yes, but now it's… different."

You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"

"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."

A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”

“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”

“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”

He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”

“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”

“But if you insist…”

You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”

“Wait—You’re hanging up?”

“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”

He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”

And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.

But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.

It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.

“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.

You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.

“How do I turn this into video call again?”

#behind closed doors #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

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lemonlover1110 · 5 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇!

Pairing: Firefighter!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: Toji tries to be the best father he can to his baby boy

Warnings: Fluff

*This isn't finished and it probably won't be but do enjoy what I did end up writing🥹🫶 I'll do a different AU for firefighter Toji

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Toji!” You call out for your husband, wondering why he isn’t in bed. You approach the nursery, and that’s where you find your husband putting his finger under his son’s nose to check if he’s breathing. You never thought that you’d find Toji of all people doing this, but he really is doing everything he can to make sure the baby is breathing, while also making sure he doesn’t wake Megumi up.

Even after six months of having Megumi, Toji makes this part of his nightly routine. Megumi’s tiny stomach very visibly rises and falls, so there’s no need for Toji to be doing all of this. But Toji’s scared, and a new parent, so he still does.

He shushes you before you even dare speak too loud, you better not wake up the baby. You roll your eyes, a chuckle leaving your lips as you walk back to your bedroom, and your husband follows behind not too shortly after.

“I love seeing you worry about the baby, but don’t you think you’re doing too much?” You ask him as you get in bed. Toji takes off his shirt before getting into bed right next to you. He pulls you into his warm embrace and kisses the top of your head. “Please tell me you turned off the alarm.”

“I have to get up and check up on him.” He responds, and you would laugh if you weren’t affected by it. Toji’s alarm wakes you up, and it’s annoying to be constantly woken up in the middle of the night.

“Toji, you’re also really tired. If Megumi needs anything, he’ll cry.” You assure him, but Toji won’t listen to any of it. You understand him better than anybody since you’re also a new parent, but you already have to wake up to feed the hungry baby in the middle of the night, you don’t need to be woken up four other times by Toji.

“I still want to make sure he’s okay. What if he’s just sitting in his crib, waiting for daddy to come?” Toji asks, and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re so right, Toji. But can you please go to the couch? I need to rest because I actually have to wake up and feed him.” You tell him, and Toji groans before letting go of you and sitting up on the bed.

“You don’t mean it.” He says as he grabs his pillows. He drags his feet as he walks to the door, waiting for you to stop him. You hate to sleep without Toji but you’re tired and you don’t want to be woken up multiple times in the night for no reason.

“Close the door on your way out!” You yell at him, getting comfortable in your space. You want to go one night without interrupted sleep, and you hope tonight is that night. As much as it sucks to sleep without Toji, you need at least one night of good sleep. You hate to hurt his feelings, but you’re also too tired to care.

“Look here, Megumi!” You put on your baby voice as you talk to your son, attempting to get him to look at your phone camera. Megumi doesn’t care though, he’s looking away, kicking his feet and yelling for the dog. He’s opening and closing his little fist in the direction of the dog, he can’t make it more clearer what he wants. “C’mon, baby, I want to send your father a cute picture.”

He keeps ignoring you, yelling to the dog. You watch the dog walk toward you and the baby, so you pick Megumi up from his play mat before the dog can lick the baby’s face. You take Megumi back to your bedroom, hoping that once you put him down on your bed, you can finally take the picture that you want to send to your husband.

You put him down on the bed, and just as you open the phone camera to take the perfect picture before he can look away, you receive a call. Toji is calling to facetime, which is perfect timing. You accept it, immediately flipping the camera to put the attention on the baby.

“Oh my god, is that my cute little urchin wearing a sailor outfit?” Toji isn’t the type to fawn over this type of stuff, or so he thought. Toji has grown soft, in his own ways at least, for his baby boy. He’s laughing, calling his coworkers over to show off his baby. Yup, Toji has become that person.

Toji just loves being a father, he was scared that he wouldn’t. He knows some parents love their kids to death but don’t like being a parent at all– Luckily for him, that isn’t the case. He loves the fact that he’s teaching this little human the basics of how to live while also filling him with love. He loves it so much that he’s almost about to ask you for a second baby.

“You look tired.” You tell him when he stops showing off Megumi to everyone, flipping the camera on you. Toji is barely getting any sleep, even though you keep pushing him to get rest.

“I’m fine.” He replies, and before you can argue with him, he changes the topic to more important manners, “Show me the baby, I miss him.”

“I was just showing you the baby.” You roll your eyes but you still turn the camera so Toji can watch his baby boy.

“Megumi! Look at the phone.” Toji says, noticing how Megumi looks away. Megumi is stretching. Your hand goes to his tummy, tickling it which causes the baby to look back at you and giggle. It fills Toji up with immense joy but also regret that he can’t always be by Megumi’s side to experience it all.

Until he hears a sound you both dread, something that makes the loudest sigh leave your lips. That part is the only thing he hates about being a father.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” You hang up the phone before Toji can even mutter a goodbye, picking up the baby and taking him to the changing table.

You realize that in the past six months, you haven’t had any proper alone time with him. You’re both too focused on being the best parent to Megumi, that you’ve completely put your relationship on the side. He’s put everything on hold, even his own health, to be there for Megumi whenever he’s free.

You miss him, and while you knew that your life would completely change the moment Megumi came along, you didn’t expect to be so separated from him. You want to get Megumi off your hands for a couple of hours so you can spend some nice alone time with Toji, without having him worry about Megumi needing something.

It’s hard to get Megumi off your hands, especially when he’s so attached to you. He’s also a crybaby which certainly doesn’t help your case.

“Do you want to go see your daddy soon?” You ask your son, picking him up from the changing table. It’s not like he can answer, so you take his coo as a yes. You need to arrange something with the help of a couple of people, and who’s better for this than some of Toji’s coworkers?

“Fushiguro! You have some visitors here!” Toji hears from the kitchen, and he raises his brows, wondering who’s looking for him. When he walks into the kitchen, his heart skips a beat at the sight of his wife and son. Toji practically runs to your side when he sees you, pecking your lips before he takes Megumi from your arms.

“What are you two doing here?” Toji’s happiness radiates off his voice. Out of all things, he didn’t expect you and his son to come visit, but here you are. Toji kisses Megumi’s chubby cheek, while the baby’s hand grips the collar of his dad’s shirt.

“Just wanted to visit daddy for a bit since you’re always complaining about not spending enough time with Megumi.” You give him your best smile before you catch a glimpse of the woman that you came here to talk to. You squeeze Toji’s forearm before telling him, “I have to talk to Yuki, I’ll be right back.”

“Huh?” Toji furrows his brows but ultimately he doesn’t care because he has his baby boy in his arms and Megumi is trying to shove his hand into Toji’s mouth. He often wishes he could trade places with you– Toji loves his job but the moment Megumi took his first breath, he became Toji’s first priority. His favorite person; and you, of course.

“Yuki, can we talk?” Your voice comes off as a whisper, and she raises her brows. A smirk comes to her lips before she lets out,

“Are we getting another mini Toji?” She’s rather loud, and you feel your face burn. You look absolutely mortified, and she bursts into laughter. She nudges her head to the table and begins to walk to it, making you follow behind. She pulls out a chair for you, but you shake your head since you don’t really have plans of staying for long. “What’s up?”

“You’re the person here that I trust the most… And you’re great with baby Megumi.” You bring up, and you feel yourself dragging it out. She knows, but she waits for you to say it, tapping her finger on the table as she waits for you to ask the question. “Can you take care of Megumi on Friday? I want to go out with Toji.”

“Man… I don’t know, I’m not that great with kids.” She responds, and you know it’s a lie, at least from what you’ve seen she’s great with Megumi. You’re willing to argue just about anything because you want to get Megumi off your hands for a night.

“Really? Baby Megumi adores you.” You claim, which isn’t a lie, but Megumi likes just about anyone. “It’s a way for baby Megumi and his favorite auntie to get closer.”

She laughs, she knows what you’re doing, but she doesn’t mind. She has Friday off and has no important plans so she might as well try to figure out what goes on in a baby’s mind. She ends up saying, “As long as I don’t have to take him anywhere, I’m not sure how I’d work a carseat on a motorcycle.”

“Of course! If anything comes up you can call me and we’ll be at home within minutes.” You answer excitedly, and before you run in search for Toji, and even though he was just in the kitchen, he’s nowhere near the place when you look for him.

“Toji!” You call out for him, unsure of where he went with the baby. The firehouse is a big place, you sure aren’t going to look in every room.

“Check the fire truck!” You hear from Yuki, and you roll your eyes at the mere suggestion. She’s not looking at it, you’re not going to entertain it– But she also knows Toji and that sounds like something he’d do. You stop in your tracks and let out a sigh before going to the firetruck.

You walk over to the driver’s side, opening the door to find Toji putting Megumi’s hands on the wheel– A sight you find the most hilarious since Toji made it his mission to put a firefighter hat on the baby’s head; but you notice it’s smaller, leading you to assume that Toji bought this just for him and kept it hidden until now.

“Look, honey, Megumi told me he wanted to be just like his daddy when he grew up.” Toji chuckles, moving Megumi’s hands on the wheel which Toji finds hilarious. Megumi doesn’t find it as funny though.

“Baby, he can barely sit up. Try it again in a few more months.” You say as you take the baby from his arms, and Toji clicks his tongue. He follows behind you as you walk back to the kitchen to take the diaper bag and go back to your car.

“Why are you leaving so soon?” He asks, annoyed that you’ve given him his baby and taken him away just as quickly.

“We just came to say hi and talk to Yuki, and since we’ve done that, we can go home now.” You respond. The man is pouting, something that you never thought you’d see from a man as big as Toji. When you have the diaper bag in your possession, you peck his lips, “Go save lives, baby.”

“What did you need to talk to Yuki about?” Toji questions, wondering what was so important that you decided to come all the way here.

“Babysitting, we’re going out on Friday.” You tell him, and his brows perk up. He’d think that would be more of a question instead of a statement, but it’s the latter. “You can’t say no, we haven’t had some proper alone time in months.”

“I wasn’t going to say no.” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking at the ground like a child. He was going to say no, and you can’t help but chuckle. Your hand goes under his chin and you begin to inspect his face.

“You’re also turning off those alarms to get proper rest. I think you’re annoying Megumi too by constantly coming into his room to invade his space.” And before he can argue with you, you leave him alone to share his thoughts with himself.

He guesses you're right.

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witchywithwhiskey · 5 months

Note

bucky + “cut it out” - “what do you mean? i’m not doing anything”

getting what you want on a rainy spring afternoon

pairing: best friend!bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, fingering (f receiving), consent issues (but not really? idk), dirty talk, light degradation, kissing, teasing, banter, friends to lovers

word count: 2,500ish

a/n: thank you so much for sending in this prompt!! i had far too much fun writing these two, which is why it ended up being so long 😅 (compared to my other springtime fun ficlets anyway)!! hope y'all enjoy!! ♡♡

“Stop it.” The words were barely discernible with the way they were growled, the annoyed rumbling coming from your best friend, Bucky Barnes. Your best friend who had come over on that rainy spring afternoon to hang out and had promptly fallen asleep instead.

Though you would’ve expected yourself to be a little sleepy, given the long week you’d had, you found yourself feeling more restless than anything else. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to settle down and cuddle up against Bucky’s arm like you’d done so many times before.

So you were left to your own devices with your best friend, who’d fallen asleep sitting up, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted back against your couch. He looked completely at ease on your couch while you were bored. You wanted Bucky’s attention and, for some reason you couldn’t fathom, you’d decided the best way to get it was to annoy him until he woke up.

You’d been trailing your fingers over his bare arms and face, tickling him until his expression twisted and he grumbled in his sleep. It was immature, but you were having too much fun to stop, suppressing your giggles every time he made an unhappy sound.

Finally, you got some actual words out of him and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your laughter. Bucky sounded so cute when he was tired and grumpy. Maybe it should’ve made you stop, but instead you waited for him to fall back asleep, his soft snores joining the gentle rhythm of the rain and the hum of the movie still playing on your TV.

Reaching up, you trailed your fingertips ever so lightly down the bridge of Bucky’s nose, skipping them off the edge before they fell to his mouth. You were surprised by how soft Bucky’s lips felt beneath your fingers, so different to the scruffy roughness of his cheeks and jaw, which seemed to be permanently covered in stubble.

Bucky’s lips parted as you were tracing them, and you yanked your hand away, turning to face the TV so you could pretend you’d only been watching the movie if he woke up. But you watched Bucky out of the corner of your eye, and he seemed to be sleeping still. Then his tongue darted out to wet his lips and your face heated inexplicably.

Suddenly, your thoughts were filled with ideas about what it would feel like to have Bucky’s mouth pressed to yours, his stubble dragging against your skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from picturing your best friend kissing along your jaw and down your neck—his lips exploring even more intimate parts of your body…

Squirming in your seat and trying to ignore the heat curling through your belly, you turned fully to Bucky, watching him closely to make sure he was asleep. When you were certain hew as, you reached out, tracing his lips again with your fingertips, feeling their softness and the dampness left behind by his tongue.

Your body warmed, and you pressed your thighs together against a pulsing ache building in your core. You didn’t want to think about your body’s reaction to touching your best friend, but you also didn’t want to stop or pull your hand away. You wanted to stay in the moment as long as possible.

So enraptured by the sight of Bucky’s mouth, you didn’t notice when his lips parted further, his raspy grumble surprising you so much you had to bite back a gasp.

“Cut it out.”

“What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” Your reply was quick, as you pulled your hand away and leaned against his side like you were simply cuddling into him. It was normal for you to cuddle with your best friend, though you weren’t normally thinking about kissing him, or about doing other things with him, when you did.

Unfortunately—or fortunately—your new position of leaning against his arm put your face close to Bucky’s. His mouth was right there, looking oh so enticing, and an impulsive thought popped into your mind. What if you just…brushed your lips against his? Not even fully against his mouth, just the edge of it. Could it really count as a kiss if you just brushed your lips to the corner of his mouth?

You decided it didn’t.

Leaning forward, your eyes fluttered closed as your lips ghosted over the stubble next to Bucky’s mouth, then connected with the softness of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat. It felt so good—his warm breath caressing your cheek and his velvety lips against the edge of yours. You could even taste the coffee he had that morning, the flavor rich and mixing with something that was entirely Bucky.

It occurred to you far too late that you were dangerously close to kissing your best friend, and you shouldn’t be doing anything of the sort—especially while he was sleeping on your couch. You knew you should pull away and go back to watching the movie, pretend nothing ever happened. But what you really wanted was to press closer, to sink into Bucky’s chest and slip your tongue past his lips.

Instead, you just hung suspended in the moment, too wrapped up in your thoughts about kissing your best friend to notice the way his breathing shifted, his body tensing like a predator’s would right before it pounced.

Then, all at once, Bucky moved, flipping you down onto your back on the soft couch cushions and covered your body with his own, his narrow waist fitting perfectly between your thighs. His hard bulge pressed to your core, making you gasp as pleasure surged through your body, your legs wrapping around him instinctively to keep him close.

“Not doing anything, huh, doll?” Bucky rasped in a teasing voice, a wide grin on his face. “Certainly not kissing your best friend while he’s asleep, right?” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled in the dim daylight of your living room. You squirmed guiltily beneath him, but that only succeeded in grinding your heated core against his dick, making it twitch in his sweatpants.

“Bucky,” you whined, gripping his t-shirt in your fists and shaking them, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Now that he was awake, you were painfully aware that your friendship was hanging by a precarious thread, but the heat flooding your body urged you to throw all caution to the wind. Still, you knew you needed to apologize for what you’d done, and you whispered, “I’m sorry,” in a small, pitiful voice.

But Bucky only grinned, ducking down and pressing a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Don’t apologize, doll,” he said in a warm, happy tone. “I’ve been awake since you started touching my face,” he pressed a kiss to your other cheek, trailing his lips down and blowing a raspberry against your jaw, which made you shriek with laughter.

You tried to squirm away from his teasing mouth, but Bucky grabbed your hands, pulling them from his shirt and pinning them above your head. His face hovered above yours, his eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I was wondering how far you’d go,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. Then, a sly smirk curved his lips and his eyes darkened, your body lighting up at the expression. “Didn’t think you’d kiss me though.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and his voice went a little distant as he murmured, “Didn’t think our first kiss would be when you thought I was asleep.”

Your lips parted and it was on the tip of your tongue to apologize when his words sank in. Had Bucky just implied that he’d thought your first kiss together was inevitable? And did his words mean he’d thought about kissing you before? How long had he been thinking about kissing you?

You didn’t have time to fully form a question in response to Bucky’s words because your best friend slanted his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss. Immediately, the entire world fell away and your mind went blissfully blank—your guilt and trepidation melting into simple pleasure as you reveled in your first proper kiss with Bucky.

Kissing your best friend felt like coming home and sinking into the safety and comfort and bliss of knowing where you belonged. The way your lips slid against Bucky’s, you knew you belonged with him—in his arms—always. It was overwhelming and delicious at the same time, and you never wanted to stop.

“Taste so good, doll,” he rumbled, pulling away for only a second before he was diving back into your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and twining with yours.

You moaned into him, your hips working against the bulge in his sweatpants as you writhed beneath him. Bucky groaned, trailing his hands down your arms to your sides, freeing your hands to dive into his soft brown hair. You yanked on it lightly while his hands groped your breasts in your shirt, then smoothed down your waist to grip your hips and grind himself into you.

“Bucky!” you cried, wrenching your lips from his as you clung to your best friend and writhed with him. You could feel his hard cock perfectly through the soft cotton of his sweatpants and the thin fabric of your lounge shorts. He was grinding against your clit, his lips kissing and sucking on your neck and all you felt was bliss. “Don’t stop, Bucky, please don’t stop,” you begged in a breathy voice.

Bucky chuckled into the crook of your neck, suckling on your pulse point and groaning when you humped harder against him. “As if I could ever deprive you, doll,” he murmured, his voice warm and sweet and filling your mind with all the dirty things you could beg Bucky to do to you.

Dragging his face back to yours, you made out with Bucky, your kisses turning messy as you both got closer to the edge of your releases. Your bodies writhed together on your couch, your legs hitching around the backs of Bucky’s thighs to keep your clothed core grinding against his thick bulge.

“Oh god, Bucky, I’m gonna—” Your words cut off on a sharp cry as Bucky rolled his hips, fucking you into couch like he was pounding into your cunt. The friction against your needy clit was perfect, and you felt the pleasure in your body surge, coiling tighter and tighter.

“Come on, doll,” Bucky growled, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Come all over your best friend’s bulge like the needy little thing you are.” He rocked his hips into yours, grinding his cock against your clit through your clothes, hitting the aching nub in just the way you needed.

The pleasure in your core snapped suddenly, and you let out a shrill cry as you came, your body going tight and taut as you clung to your best friend. Your legs held him close, your hands fisted in his hair while you moaned in his ear, your body shuddering beneath his bigger form while you rode out your release by grinding languorously against his bulge.

Then you heard Bucky groan into your neck, his hips stuttering in their rhythm as he kept humping against you. You felt a warmth between your thighs and shivered, knowing what it was and it only turning you on more that you’d made Bucky come without either of you taking off your clothes.

A smile curled your mouth as you humped against your best friend’s twitching cock while as he came in his pants. He was groaning into your neck and you were clinging to him, feeling every trembling shudder that wracked his broad body.

“Fuck, fuck,” he muttered, riding out his pleasure by rubbing against your soaked core and milking every drop of come from his cock. “Fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the word and finally settling to lay on top of you as he collapsed. You lay entwined together for a long moment, simply enjoying each other.

Then, Bucky pushed up on his hands and glanced down your bodies, where he’d made a mess of both his sweatpants and your shorts.

You couldn’t help but giggle, only laughing harder when Bucky shot you an accusatory look. “This is entirely your fault, y’know?” he grumbled, beginning to move off you carefully so he didn’t make an even bigger mess. “If you hadn’t felt so good coming under me…”

You’d been about to make some flippant comment about how it’d feel much better if was inside you, but then Bucky shoved his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, walking bare-assed over to the laundry in the hallway. He turned to you expectantly, but your eyes were too busy taking in the sight of your best friend’s cock, still half-hard and swinging between his thick thighs.

“Are you going to help me clean up, or are you gonna make me strip you out of those filthy clothes?” Bucky asked gruffly, playfulness in his tone.

That snapped you out of your thoughts and you pushed yourself up off the couch, sauntering over to Bucky, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down to watch the sway of your hips. Once you were standing right in front of him, you tugged your shirt off over your head and pulled your shorts off, leaving you naked in front of your best friend.

Bucky’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening as they took you in. “Christ, doll,” he muttered distractedly, his gaze taking in every inch of your bare skin with a greedy glint in his eyes. “You’re constantly surprising me.”

“Well someone’s gotta keep you on your toes,” you teased, pushing up onto your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips before you darted around him and ran into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and turned on the hot water, intent on taking a shower to clean up.

Before you could step beneath the warming spray, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist and he hauled you against his body. His thickening cock wedged between your ass cheeks and his breath ghosting over your cheek as he murmured into your ear.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Bucky rumbled, his hand slipping between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your soaking wet slit. “You’re mine now—and I’m going to have so much fun making my girlfriend come all over my cock.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, thrusting his fingers into your needy cunt, making your knees shake as you struggled to stay upright.

All you could do was whimper and moan, clinging to Bucky’s arms and melting back against his chest. A smile played on your lips, though, as you realized you’d gotten exactly what you wanted—your best friend’s attention. And you knew you were going to enjoy every minute of that rainy spring afternoon with your boyfriend because Bucky, and his attention, was finally all yours.

#witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #thyme-in-a-bubble #friends to lovers

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eskumii · 7 months

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soft yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha x reader hcs

TITLE: " BAD ROMANCE " — navi. — read part two.

A/N: i'm clearing out my drafts ,, was in a huge naruto phase when i started this blog!

☆ genin sasuke is pretty mean. he doesn't notice you for your looks, personality, or even your prowess as a young kunoichi. you're just... you. in which, you don't cling to him like sakura does, and you aren't delusional like ino is. you're just okay at first, and there's not much he can go off of when he never really interacts with you. it's nothing personal, really.

☆ although sasuke is typically not a stranger to the prospect of romance, the reason why he doesn't indulge is simply because he fails to understand what romance is. if sasuke is anything, he's aware; of his surroundings, the people in it, and the turmoil that churns inside of him. the more he loves, the more he'll eventually hate, so he gathers that there's no room for it in his life. it's his curse to bear.

☆ genin sasuke would eventually notice you after being placed on team seven together, of course. you're pretty hard to ignore from thereon. in between the bouts of sakura clobbering him and naruto screaming in his face, his eyes are on you. both naruto and sakura wear the extent of their capabilities on their sleeves, but you're hard to read and that intrigues sasuke.

☆ it's not until much later that sasuke notices his feelings for you are much different than before. after all the trouble you've been through together (near death experiences & the dreadful antics of naruto), he feels like he's finally got a foothold on what it is that makes you so interesting. he's not a moron—yes, it would appear that he does like you beyond the "like" that he holds for the rest of team seven. however, it's such a foreign feeling that he's not even sure how to handle it, being that he's never had to deal with it before. does he tell you? does he not? would you even feel the same?

☆ in the end, sasuke shows his fondness for you in more subtle ways. it's not really his style to outright confess. sometimes he'll ask you to spar with him (alone, which he stresses), or he'll happen to have a "spare" tomato (or onigiri, if you don't like tomatoes) on him when you complain about being hungry during missions. if you get ambushed by rogue ninja on a mission, he'll instinctively step in front of you, or if you're out of kunai he'll lend you a couple of his—things like that. he's quite thoughtful when he wants to be.

☆ even under sasuke's merciful tolerance of you, you're not off-limits when it comes to his biting insults and sarcastic comments. normally he doesn't speak much but with you he becomes rather talkative, if you can even call it that. when someone else tries to butt in, sasuke's brooding and murderous glares scare them away. they should really know better than to talk to you when he's around.

☆ sakura obviously hates that you've suddenly become the apple of sasuke's eye when she's been vying after him since their early days at the academy. you're not even that pretty, honestly. but any attempt to sabotage you or make you look like a fool in front of sasuke is thwarted... by sasuke. he always thought of sakura like a whining gnat in his ear so it's amusing to see her cry when he blatantly ignores her for messing with you.

☆ when sasuke leaves the village, you're the first person he visits beforehand. you're asleep but that's just fine; actually, it's perfect because you don't see how he gently caresses your hair and how he gives you a kiss on your forehead. you don't hear him when he finally admits that he likes you. loves you, even. you don't hear him when he says he wishes he could take you with him.

☆ but don't worry, he'll be back for you...

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere naruto #yandere sasuke x reader #yandere sasuke uchiha #yandere sasuke uchiha x reader #yandere naruto x reader #uchiha x reader #sasuke x reader #yandere sasuke hcs #naruto headcanons #sasuke uchiha #genin sasuke x reader #yandere genin sasuke #yandere uchiha

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klausysworld · 7 months

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Hey,I like your klaus mikaelson stories very much. Can you do one in which klaus and reader(yn) were in an arrange marriage and they cant stand each other?And they slowly fall in love and at the end he gets her pregnant? As in arranged marriage I mean,something like the marriage between hayley and Jackson. And if you can please add smut,fluff,jealousy and daddy kink. Thank you

An Alliance or a Marriage?

Y/n could not believe that she was doing this.

Y/n was Jacksons sister, they always had each others backs and protected the other. So when Hayley came into Jacksons life, had him falling in love while she had feelings for Elijah Mikaelson, Y/n knew they couldn't get married. The only reason they were actually getting married was to unite the werewolf clans and to share Hayley's hybrid abilities as part of the marriage ritual.

But it would come at the cost of Jackson's happiness and most likely his life. Y/n was not stupid. She knew the price of loving a Mikaelson and it was one that Jackson could not afford and one that Y/n would not let him pay.

So without thinking, she made a fast decision.

"What if Ione of the wolves married Klaus? That way Hayley gets to be with Elijah and Klaus doesn't have to be so wary of Jackson around Hope or whatever his worry is? Wouldn't it just be easier?" She questioned and she felt everyone's gaze turn to her, most genuinely considering the possibility while Klaus looked both pissed and amused.

"I wouldn't trust anyone with Hope and under no circumstances will I be marrying anyone." He answered before storming out without another word. Jackson was second to protest then some of the other wolves.

They all went back to the bayou and tried to forget about the day.

What the wolves were unaware of were the arguments in the Mikaelson compound. Mostly between Rebekah and Niklaus. Rebekah was telling Klaus that for once, he should think of Elijah's happiness instead of only being selfish yet again. She continued to go on about how it was for Hope, how he should be the one sacrificing for Hope, not Hayley as she had already given up so much. The fight went on for hours but by morning it was settled. Niklaus would marry a wolf of his choosing.

Y/n was his choice. She was quiet but smart. Small but strong. Which meant she would be the best of his options. He knew part of her feared him, unlike some of the wolves there. She may challenge him a little but she wasn't stupid enough to truly go against him. This was proven when she silently accepted his decision.

Jackson was entirely against the entire thing. His sister was getting married to the original hybrid, moving into the beasts den and becoming apart of his twisted family. But he too kept quiet after Y/n told him it was what needed to be done. It was the only chance for everyone to walk out somewhat alive.

That was why she was walking down the aisle, Jackson unwillingly giving her away to Klaus Mikaelson before Mary began the ceremony. As the words "you may kiss your bride" left her lips, their fates were sealed. Klaus stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his brides soft lips and watched as her and every other wolf in the rooms eyes lit up with golden flames, united as one.

The compound remained busy for the rest of the day, Klaus and Y/n stayed in opposite sides of the room at all times. Elijah urged his brother to at least be kind, Klaus however ignored any and all advice and instead drank the night away. Marriage was not in the cards for him. It was not what he wanted and he now knew that he was tied to this girl, a girl he harboured no feelings toward and a girl who only looked at him with distaste, for at least one lifetime. He knew the likelihood of them every liking each other was slim and he also knew that there were lots of rules in this werewolf marriage that he would have to follow in order to have the wolves protecting Hope. So he got off his face drunk, to the point where he couldn't get himself up the stairs at the end of the night.

It wasn't the best way for Y/n to find him on their first night 'together'. When she gave him that look of uncertainty and upset when she found him at the bottom of the stairs slurring his words, he just rolled his eyes and told her to piss off. But she didn't. Instead she fought against his sloppy attempts of pushing her away and instead managed to get him up the stairs and to bed. He fell asleep in seconds leaving Y/n distressed and alone on her wedding night. Instead of sleeping she went back downstairs and cleaned up the mess left over from the wedding.

Klaus had come down in the morning to find her scrubbing the corner of the room. He glanced around and noticed everywhere was spotless, his eyes travelled to the stairs and he was hit with the memory of leaning against her as she struggled to carry him up each one. Guilt bubbled in the pit of his stomach but he ignored it and made his way into the room and past her.

Y/n just stared at the nonexistent spot on the ground and tiredly rubbed the sponge against it.

Rebekah came downstairs after a little while and frowned when she saw Y/n, exhausted and leaning against the wall while her arm moved almost robotically to scratch away at the floor.

“Y/n? Darling we have maids for this” she whispered softly, supporting her new sister-in-law and guiding her to stand up and walk toward the stairs.

“I was just helping” Y/n mumbled, “wine was spilt” she stated as she glanced over to the area she thought was stained with alcohol but when Rebekah glanced it was completely clean. She lead Y/n toward Klaus’s room but paused when she noticed the mess it was in and began to realise why Y/n hadn’t been to sleep. With a soft sigh she brought the she-wolf to her bedroom and helped Y/n out of her wedding dress.

“I suppose this isn’t the way you had hoped to get out of your dress” she joked gently but Y/n didn’t look amused.

“I’d rather you than your brother” she murmured and Rebekah gave a small laugh.

“One day you won’t think that” she whispered as she grabbed some of her pyjamas and passed them to Y/n. “He’ll become kinder after some time, it’ll be a difficult ride but you’ll get there. Besides he must already like you to have chosen you out of all the wolves” she convinced but Y/n just scoffed as she crawled into Rebekah’s bed and let her head hit the pillow

“Lucky me.” She quipped and Bekah hummed.

“I’ll get him to let you rest for today” she told her as she exited the room and let the girl sleep in her room for the day.

Klaus claimed not to care what Y/n did with her time, where she went or who she was with but Rebekah reminded him that she was his wife. Whether he was happy about or not.

“You either need to set her up a nice room for her to have for herself or you need to actually be her husband and have her feel comfortable enough to share one with you. My god Niklaus, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with her. It won’t give you a disease if you smile at the poor girl.” She scowled and Klaus glared but kept his trap shut.

Klaus knew Y/n was beautiful. She was delicate little thing, from what he had seen she could be very sensitive for a werewolf at times. But he knew she had a certain fire in her. He wondered what he would have to do to light that flame and have her snap at him. He wondered if her fear would override that anger.

It was much later in the day when he went to check on his new wife. Part of him worried she had ran away but he knew that she would stay, for the survival of her pack.

He found her curled up in his sisters pyjamas and bed. Reluctantly he picked her up and brought her to his room, tucking her into his bed and leaving her to rest there instead. After all, his bed was where she belonged now.

When evening came around, he made his way back to his room. As soon as he started getting ready for bed, Y/n forced herself up despite her still clearly needing sleep. He sighed as she left the room, ignoring his presence and going downstairs for the rest of the night.

Some days she would stay downstairs and behave almost zombie like as she tried to keep her mind running and eyes open, other times she just went to sleep while she knew Klaus was busy.

It annoyed him to no end but at the same time he was relieved that he never had to really see or speak to her. Still, whether either of them liked it, she was his wife and the fact that she wouldn’t stand in the same room as him was not something he appreciated.

So he did what he assumed to be best.

Forced her to spend time with him.

Often it would be in a painful silence as he stared her down and made sure she wouldn’t get up and leave. However after some time, she would have little conversations with him so that he would be sated and leave her alone for a little while later.

When in front of the other wolves, Klaus would become a different person. He would make sure to kiss Y/n’s cheek or head, hold her waist or hand. One because he had to make it seem as though they were some what happy so that the wolves would not turn on him and two because he liked to piss Jackson off. He took amusement in how the wolf would growl and scrunch his face up in distaste.

Y/n knew what Klaus was doing but didn’t see the point in arguing or getting all stressed about it, besides it only happened every now and then so it didn’t matter much.

However when Klaus began accidentally doing the little gestures when others weren’t around, as though it were his second nature, Y/n felt confused. She didn’t understand his motifs or what he wanted from her.

Rebekah told Y/n that he didn’t want anything, that he was just warming to her but Y/n was still skeptical. Even when Rebekah came into her room grinning and held out a piece of paper with a beautifully sketched version of Y/n’s face.

“He must’ve been bored out of his mind” Y/n mumbled dismissively as she handed the drawing back to Rebekah who rolled her eyes.

“He likes you” she argued and Y/n scoffed.

“He does not. He just wants me to do whatever he says”she countered and the mikaelson sister sighed

“He isn’t all bad, you know?” Bekah questioned

“Sure he isn’t. He’s quite lovely towards his daughter” she agreed and Rebekah hummed as she watched Y/n pretend to have no clue about Niklaus’s thoughts or feelings.

Klaus wouldn’t admit that he had become accustomed to Y/n’s presence and began to want it more often. He wasn’t too sure why but he had taken a fancying to her, he just had.

And he most certainly didn’t like when other people took a fancying to her as well. Not at all.

Now he knew that she would never peruse anything with anyone else, that would break the magical marriage binding the wolves together but it didn’t mean he didn’t get angry. Especially when another wolf could make her smile or blush better than he could. His teeth would bring, jaw would clench and his eyes would flicker gold.

It fuelled something ugly and twisted inside him.

Jealousy.

“Jealousy is a weak man’s disease” Niklaus had told Elijah many times over the centuries. “A man who knows his worth and his strength never had to fear that his girl would stray. Jealously means they are nothing. I am not nothing, I never will be.”

And yet, as soon as Y/n’s attention was given to an attractive werewolf, Klaus would feel as though he was nothing. He would feel that weakness that he loathed so deeply.

The only way to diminish that jealousy was to eliminate the threat. To pick away at the weakness piece by piece until only strength was left.

But that didn’t go well.

When Klaus killed a werewolf, Y/n went ballistic. It was the first time she had actually yelled at him, expressed her anger and threatened his position.

“It’s like you’re actually a fool! You hurt my pack and they will not protect you nor your child, this marriage will be pointless and finished-“ she ranted and his anger bubbled.

“This marriage will not end just because our pack says so” he growled and she glared at him, her pointer finger jabbed at his chest aggressively and it took everything within him not to snap it in half.

“It is hardly a marriage and it had only happened for the benefit of my pack and for your daughter. It is you that has a hundred enemies banging down the door at night and it will be you that suffers if you do not have the protection that I offer you.” She snapped and he sneered in her face. He wanted to kill her in that moment however at the same time, for whatever reason, he had never been more attracted to her. His wolf wanted to force her into submission. To spank and pound her until she admitted that she was his and wouldn’t ever threaten to leave him again. But he was also beyond furious at the possibility of his daughter’s life being on the line and so stormed past her before he would harm her.

He ignored her mutterings of how pathetic he was and locked himself in his arm room which was utterly destroyed by the end of the hour due to his never ending rage.

The next morning he had expected a pack of wolves to be stood at his door, angry and threatening. However he found them all sat at their long table, Y/n was at the head informing them that they had ‘found’ the pack member already dead and had brought him here so that they may take care of his body accordingly.

She lied for Klaus.

She let her family believe that it was someone else who had killed the wolf. When they accused Klaus, she snapped back at them that he was with her all day and had helped her take care of the body.

Y/n gave Klaus a look that dared him to contradict her words but he didn’t utter a word. He just stood at her side and placed a hand on her shoulder as he listened to the others discuss the traditional funeral that the wolf deserved.

Once they left, Y/n walked straight past Klaus and to her bedroom. She was unwilling to speak with her for the next few days. The only time she would was regarding Hope.

The small toddler had taken a strong liking to Y/n and often asked for her. Nobody could not love Hope once they spent some time with her so Y/n was always happy to have the baby in her arms.

Klaus too, very much enjoyed the sight of his wife holding his child. His mind began to spin together images of Y/n pregnant with his child. His wolf craved the thought. He could imagine how beautifully round her stomach would be and how he would press his hands to the bump while nuzzling into her hair.

And then he would think of how he would get her pregnant. She would be so gorgeous sprawled out in his bed.

Since their wedding day she had been in her own room but now Klaus desperately wanted her in his.

He wanted to be inside her. To claim her. To love her.

Never did he think he would love her.

Then again, never did he think he would be getting married or having a baby.

But all of those things had happened and he wouldn’t take them back. Perhaps he might’ve gone about them a little differently but he would have still wanted them to happen.

He told her that once.

One night when they were having dinner.

Somehow he had managed to convince her to share a meal with him and him alone. She couldn’t be bothered to fight over it so complied.

Y/n hadn’t expected him to actually make such an effort. Or to have been so lovely the entire evening. It was clear he wanted to impress her and to engage her, and he had but she didn’t understand why.

Until he told her of how he wouldn’t have changed things,not fully. He had admitted to her that he was somewhat happy with the fact that they were married. He didn’t say he loved her, he knew that would through her off but he made it obvious that he liked her much more than he had initially expressed.

She wasn’t so sure how to respond to him.

Y/n had thought that he was only nicer to her lately because he too was avoiding arguments but she hadn’t truly believed it was because he was being genuine.

Klaus noticed the frown on her face and looked down at his plate. “It’s a little silly I suppose” he muttered to himself, he couldn’t help the deflated feeling that travelled through him as he placed his fork down. “Neither of us wanted this marriage” he mumbled while standing up from his seat making his chair scrape against the floor with a painful sound.

Y/n felt the guilt sink in and she quickly got up also and rounded the table as he started to walk away. “Klaus,” she called softly, reaching out for his hand.

His eyes fluttered when she held onto his hand, he hadn’t felt the softness of her touch since their first and only kiss of their relationship from their wedding day.

He glanced to her and reluctantly shrugged her off. “No it doesn’t matter, I was being a fool” he argued and kept walking.

Y/n sighed to herself and rubbed her hands down her face in frustration.

The next morning Klaus ignored her, barely looked at her even.

It was later that day that she finally caught his attention and pulled him off into another room.

“Klaus” she murmured in annoyance when he went to open the door she had just pushed shut. “You’re behaving like a child” she tutted and he growled. “Would you just stop?” She told him and he glared at her.

“What do you want?” He asked, not bothering to soften his tone which made her frown again.

“I want you to talk to me” she whispered and he narrowed his eyes.

“You never want to talk to me.” he snapped, “you only want to because I made a stupid mistake”

“It wasn’t a mistake” she told him, her tone much gentler than his. “I just wasn’t expecting it”

“Why? Because it’s so shocking that I could possibly feel something-“

“God, Klaus no. You know I dont think you’re a heartless monster-“

“That strongly contradicts things you’ve said in the past-“ he argued and she made a sound of frustration.

“Well I’ve changed my mind” she told him and his jaw tightened. “Klaus I’m serious. I know you now, I’ve seen you”

“Then what is it about me that you cannot love?” He whispered and her eyes softened further. They stared at each other until Y/n stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Her arms went around his midsection and his went over her shoulders.

“It isn’t that I can’t” she mumbled and he closed his eyes

“You just don’t want to” he whispered but she still shook her head.

“I just don’t know how to” she corrected and he hummed quietly.

“But I love you” he uttered and she nodded.

“I know that now” she agreed “and I’ll make sure that I take that into consideration but Klaus, you can’t just expect that I’ll suddenly be all over you and madly in love” she told him and he frowned.

“Why not?” He asked and she scoffed softly. For centuries woman had been falling at his feet but the one woman that he married wouldn’t?

“Because the world doesn’t revolve around you?” She whispered, a little laugh in her voice that made him a little annoyed at first but when he saw her face he couldn’t help but laugh a little bit with her. Eventually he sighed and looked down with a small smile and a nod.

“I’ll earn your affections” he promised, kissing her forehead before exiting the room.

And from that day, he tried his very best to do just that.

Though of course they still had their arguments and disagreements, now he would be the first to apologise or to admit his wrong doings.

And slowly, like he had hoped, Y/n began to love him too.

Rebekah, Elijah, Hayley, Jackson and all the other wolves began to notice the much softer side to them both when they touched to spoke to each together. Some were happier than others about the change in dynamics between the two.

Jackson for one, was very put off when Klaus kissed his sister in front of everyone. What was worse was that she kissed him back and asked him to grab her a drink. They behaved like a real married couple. The wolves didn’t like it.

Some of them went as far to verbalise their opinions but Klaus’s siblings were quick to shut them up before they could upset Y/n. They reminded them that it was in the best interests of everyone that the two got along rather than Y/n living a miserable life just for the benefit of the pack. Eventually the majority agreed and kept quiet.

Jackson was most concerned.

Especially when he came round to visit and found Y/n sprawled across Klaus’s lap while reading a book..

“Y/n” he called, his gaze hard as he watched her lift her head and smile before getting up and going out for lunch with her brother. He expressed his worries and she assured him that Klaus was much better now and that she felt that she could love him. Jackson knew that her using the word ‘could’ was solely for his benefit. She wanted to say that she did love him.

With a small sigh he nodded and told her to just be happy and thanked her once more for everything she had done for him and their family.

When Y/n came home Klaus had made her a bubble bath for her to relax in. She laid in the water for a while before getting changed into comfy clothes and wondering downstairs. Klaus was in the kitchen grating Parmesan cheese over two dishes of pasta.

She smiled and sat at the table quietly, smiling at him when he placed the bowl infront of her before sitting down opposite with his own dish.

Klaus twisted his fork in the spaghetti and asked how her day with Jackson was. They chatted while they ate before loading the dishwasher and heading upstairs.

Y/n had been sleeping in his room lately. Mostly because they would accidentally fall asleep beside each-other when watching a film before bed but then Klaus asked if she would feel comfortable sharing a room with him and she agreed.

So this time they naturally just went to Klaus’s room or rather their room.

His eyes watched as she disappeared into the bathroom, a soft hum left her and her hips swayed gently. The tap started running which meant she was brushing her teeth and he followed her in and grabbed his own toothbrush to do the same. He glanced at her in the mirror as she focused on her mouth. He cleared his throat and finished cleaning up before kissing her head and going into their room to get changed into his sleep pants which he had only been wearing because he wasn’t sure if she would be comfortable with him in only briefs.

Klaus was unaware of how Y/n would imagine his naked body against hers, pressing and sliding against hers while they panted beneath the sheets of their bed.

It was why she started wearing tinier pyjamas to bed, in hopes it would entice him that extra bit.

The little shorts would allow him a glimpse of her ass, as though it was teasing him. And the little matching vest top would wrap around her upper body perfectly.

Klaus sat down on the bed and watched as she walked back in. His eyes glanced to wear her taut nipples would press against the Cotten of her clothes down to her long bare legs that he desperately wanted to bury between.

She let out a yawn as she slid into bed beside him and beneath the covers. He pulled her closer so that their bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces and sighed quietly as though having her touch soothed something inside of him.

“Thanks for tonight” she whispered as she leaned up and kissed his lips before laying her head down on her pillow. Klaus hummed and laid down with her.

“Thank you for having dinner with me again” he smiled and she returned it, her hand moved to caress his gently and he held onto hers tenderly.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, I love having dinner with you” she told him and his eyes flickered between hers as he took in her words because they both knew what she was actually saying.

“You do?” He whispered and she nodded.

“I do.”

Klaus kissed her again, for a few seconds longer this time. Just as he pulled his lips away from hers, she pushed them back together with a little more force. He groaned softly, his hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her ass to grip the back of her thigh and lift her leg up so her knee slide over his hip. His hand slid up under her shorts to feel the soft warmth of her pussy against his fingers.

Y/n moaned quietly against his mouth. Both her hands caressed his neck gently before one moved lower. Klaus grunted softly and pulled away from their kiss as he felt her hand cup his erection through his pants.

Their eyes locked as both their hands moved slowly, teasingly.

A small whimper left Y/n as Klaus’s fingers rubbed over her clit. She brought her hand under the waistband of his pants and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she felt the length and thickness of him. Klaus’s mouth fell open slightly as he breathed shallowly.

Her hand pumped his cock slowly as he slipped a finger inside her. His thumb glided over her sensitive little bud, his eyes urging her to please move her hand faster. She complied and stroked him quicker, squeezing as she went.

His hips thrust against her hand while two fingers curled inside her to find her spot.

The whole room became hot and dark as the night deepened and the blankets were pulled over their heads to make them feel closer. Their breathing mixed together and little moans left them both as their hands moved faster.

Their mouths moved together sloppily as moans vibrated from both of them and their body moved in time to meet the other’s hand.

Y/n went first, her neck arched making Klaus move his lips down to suck along her throat while his hips thrust and his fingers fucked her fast. He panted as her cry of pleasure left her and he felt her pussy clamp down and release. It only took a few more squeezes of her hand around his cock for him to cum across her stomach.

They both lay, breathing heavily and looking at eachother. Y/n’s eyes squinted to see him in the dark, his hands were moving her onto her back so he could slot on top of her. Her thighs were nudged open and a gasp left her as the head of his cock started to push into her.

Klaus leaned down and kissed her again, deepening it in seconds so he could taste her while his cock finally felt the soft, wet warmth that he had longed for.

A strained cry of relief left her and her back arched off the bed as he filled her completely. His hands slid up her body and scrunched her shirt up above her breasts so that he could lean down and wrap his lips round one of her nipples.

“Klaus” she whimpered as his hips thrust slowly and his tongue flicked teasingly. He moaned softly around the bud before sucking it between his teeth. He released it with a pop before kissing up along her chest and throat until he took her lips to his. She kissed him back hungrily, accepting his tongue into her mouth without any resistance as his hips rolled faster into her.

He only pulled away from her lips when her pussy went unbearably tight on his cock, he let out a loud groan as he fucked into her as quickly as he could.

The harsh slap of his skin meeting hers repeated through the room alongside her moans for more. Klaus could feel himself getting closer to cumming and he was determined to fill her up. He wanted her to carry his next child.

His tongue traced the shell of her ear as she cried out and his fingers reached between her legs to rub at her clit until she was crying to cum.

“Shh sweetheart” he purred to her, “let me fill you” he whispered and the realisation of what he meant dawned on her.

“Klaus” she whimpered as she felt his cock release inside her. His hips slowed but didn’t stop as his cock softened momentarily before hardening again inside of her still.

He grunted softly as he glanced down at her, his fingers gently rolled over her clit while watching his cock slide in and out of her. He could see his cum spilling out of her and he desperately tried to fuck it back inside.

“I want you to be full of my child” he muttered to her and she moaned softly, her hand lifted to cup his cheek to draw his attention to her eyes.

"I love you" she whispered and he groaned quietly as he kissed her lips just briefly so she could speak again, "and I'll love our children" she told him making his hips buck roughly into her. She moaned in response and wrapped her arms around his neck while resting her head against his. "You''ll be such a good daddy to them" she murmured and a low growl rumbled through his chest as he took the praise and thrived off of it.

Y/n felt his pace quicken and her pleasure heighten making her kiss across his cheek to his ear slowly, "Please daddy?" she purred while her cunt clenched repeatedly and her lower stomach twisted into a series of knots. "Please give me your babies" she begged and he couldn't stop from snapping. His mind and body went haywire making her scream his name. Her body was practically vibrating as her body met his for the hundredth time and her head went back allowing his mouth to reattach onto her neck.

Her eyes rolled back when his teeth sunk into her throat.

Bliss rolled through both of them until their bodies were a heated, sweaty mess amongst the sheets.

His hand held the back of her head holding her face into his chest as they panted heavily. Her eyes closed as she felt him stroke her hair soothingly while he slid his cock out of her and caressed her swollen clit ever so gently with his thumb.

Y/n whimpered weakly and he smiled as he glanced down to watch her brows furrow together while her hips slowly rode the pad of his finger until one last cry left her alongside another orgasm.

Once he had ensured she was finished, he cleaned them both up and then their bed before dropping her down onto the fresh bedding and taking warmth in her giggle when she reached out and pulled him to lay beside her.

Klaus kept her snuggled up to him all night and into the next morning before reluctantly getting up and going downstairs to join the rest of the family.

He knew that everything was finally working out.

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d3vilcvntz · 3 months

Text

silly little crush ♡

top male reader x bottom male character

he has a crush on you for months but feels like he have no chance with you because of your difference in personality. you were the outgoing and loud type of person who have lots of friends. he's basically the opposite of you, shy and can barely makes any friends. he admired you since the first time you approached him. you were just asking the directions to the building as you're new in this department, but something about that small interaction drives him crazy and he doesn't know why. he keeps ignoring these feelings as it's just a silly little crush and he'll probably move on from it later.

he was 2 years older than you, making him your senior so you did talk to him quite a lot after that because he have more knowledge than you. asking him how to do this and that, he's not complaining though. it's actually part of his day that he really looks forward to, even though he doesn't want to admit it.

you did tried to invite him to hang out sometimes but each times, he would just declined and said that he's busy. he's not actually, he just hate interacting with people, other than you of course. he would be down to hang out if it's just two of you though, but it will be weird for him to ask so he just wait for you to do it first. he just doesn't want to be seen as desperate

and the wait is worth it because you did ended up inviting him to hang out at your place. innocently asking him to teach you how to organise some files because you didn't know how to, which is not the main reason why you invited him over obviously. you actually knew about his feelings but keep it casual to see if he'll do anything about it. you taken a liking to him too since the day you got the job. he looks so cool doing his works that it made you wonder how he'll looks like in bed, getting ruined by you

you got bored waiting so why not make the first move ? he arrived at your place and both of you started talking about works as he helped you organised the files like you asked. you offered him to drink with you and get to know each other, i mean, you guys are coworkers after all but barely knows anything about one another. both of you were slowly getting drunks while sharing some personal stories

honestly, it's your first time seeing him this talkative. he's usually quiet in the office. he's so cute like this <3 the way he laughed everytime you make a joke, even though it's a lame one "i actually don't have that much friends so I don't really enjoy going to work everyday.. well that's until i met you" he said, taking another sip on his drink. you were shocked at the sudden topic but just smiled at him, waiting for him to continue "you know..it's funny that i actually like you even though we barely know each other" he spoke again

you paused for a moment "is this a confession?" you teased him, looking at him directly "...what?...wait..wait! i didn't mean that way ! i mean.." he basically panicked, stuttering on his words, face flushed "im sorry..im sorry... i must have creep you out.. i just-" before he can even finish his sentence, you gave him a kiss on the lips, a quick one

he was shocked and quickly backed away, there's a lot he wanted to say and ask but he didn't know why he feels like all of it just got stuck in his throat "i like you too" you told him, getting closer to him. that just answered all of his questions. "the feelings are mutuals then?" you asked him, giving a little smile. he feels like he's about to burst

both of you were in your bed now, you pushed him down, making him lay on it "can i?" you asked, fingers fiddling with his buttons which he responded with a simple yes. you unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his body to you. he's so pretty ♡

his hands grabbed on your shirt, basically asking you to take it off too. you slide your hand in his pants, teasing his cock. he moans so sweetly in your ear <3 you want to hear more of it, no, you need to hear more of it. slowly pulling off his pants and underwear, pouring lube all over your fingers and sliding one of it inside him

you're trying your best to take it slow and make it enjoyable for both of you. you added more fingers as time went by, getting him all stretched out and ready for you

you were trying to grab the condom by your bedside before he stopped you, eyes avoiding yours "we don't need that..it's okay if it's you" he whispered softly. shit, don't think you can't even control yourself anymore if he's this cute !

pushing your cock into him, watching how his hole swallowed you up. thrusting into him with a slow pace to get him used to it. his hands gripping the sheets, soft moans filling up the room. you began to pick up the pace and thrust deeper into him, chasing your own orgasm as well as his

you both came soon after, holding onto each other. you laid beside him with your cock still inside him as you whispered nothing but sweets into his ear, calming him down from his high

you slowly pulled out your cock, earning cute whimpers from him "no...it's gonna leak out" he said so sweetly, shoving his fingers inside his hole to keep your cum inside

it takes everything in you to not just do another round but you wanted to be gentle as this is his first time after all <3 you stood up from the bed to prepare the bath for both of you, trying to distract yourself. you have to clean it all up after all, don't want to sleep all sweaty and sticky

sitting in the bathtub together, cuddling with him between your legs as he leaned onto your chest "this is like a dream to me" he suddenly said, looking up at you with a soft smile. ah, this might be the best day in your life <3

a/n: this is so normal compared to my other works lmfao

#sub character #top reader #top male reader #d3vilcvntz's works

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niningtori · 1 month

Text

mad about you | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you, delusions of kang taehyun x you

summary: beomgyu is not only a spoiled, rich asshole whose whole life has been served to him on a silver platter, but he's also your student council vice president. things finally come to a head on your final trip as college students, but not in the way you would expect. or, beomgyu catches you, the student council president, smoking weed and tries to blackmail you for it

genre: romance, angst (only a tiny bit...? shocking i know), fluff (kinda...? shocking i know), SMUT (MDNI!!!), sub!idol, beomgyu enemies to lovers

warnings: bad writing, not proofread at all, smut (MDNI!!!), sub!gyu LMAOOOO, marijuana, dirty talk, praise, handjobs, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 7.1k

notes: please... this took MONTHS for me to write i fear i am the worst request taker on moablr. this was really difficult for me to complete but alas... it is done. if you hate it, my fault! just please don't bully me i've got enough shit going on in my life rn 💀 i hate it too but that's okay!

being a straight-a student is hard. being the student government president? even harder. being both? hell on earth. but now, in your senior year of college, you’ve finally managed to get it down to a science. things run relatively smoothly, which is due in no small part to the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve put in to make the student body happy, never mind the lengths you've gone to for the faculty. you can confidently say you can cope with nearly every trial and tribulation that comes your way with a smile on your face. well, except for one recurring disaster: beomgyu.

at first, he was nothing more to you than a pest buzzing around for no real purpose other than to mildly annoy you. it was strange because he seemed normal at first, but then he would pick on your looks, every time you made a mistake in class, and even how you happened to wear your hair that day. this was annoying and, well, hurtful. still, it was of no real consequence, so you were able to ignore him when that was the case, but now you know better than to underestimate just how disastrous beomgyu’s presence can be. as the student government vice president, he should be your first and most trusted ally, but he’s nothing short of, for lack of a better term, a major asshole deadset on making your life even more difficult than it already is for reasons unknown to you.

you think it may be because you would have probably beaten him for the actual president’s chair, which led him to run for vice president, instead. you don’t know why he minds this, though, because he couldn’t seem to care less about the council, not to mention school in general. it’s not that he gets bad grades, because he doesn’t. in fact, when he gets called on in class, he always gets the answer right even when he clearly wasn’t paying any attention. still, you work twice as hard as anyone else and yet your grades are only rivaled by his own. even taehyun, your (probably unrequited) crush, can’t help but be beaten by beomgyu as if the hand of god itself smacks down on everyone else every time you all take a test.

getting good grades should be an admirable thing, right? it helps with potential internships and jobs and all that, but the thing is: beomgyu doesn't need any of it. even if he fails all of his classes, he's set for life as the son of a formidable CEO of a company whose profits are more than you could ever dream of attaining. there is absolutely no doubt that beomgyu will succeed him, and there is even less doubt that he'll undeniably be very, very good at it. what’s worse is that even if he failed to meet expectations, he’d still get the position, anyway.

that, in comparison with your family’s laughable financial circumstances, would be enough to make you secretly hate the boy just on principle; but jealousy is ugly, no doubt, so you’ve kept your feelings to yourself. you would have fallen into a pit of self-loathing and guilt had beomgyu actually been kind, and you may have even grown to like him if that were the case, but no. beomgyu is not kind. he’s a total prick. you see it in his smug little smile when the test papers get handed back and he annihilates everyone — other than you — in class, especially taehyun. you see it in the smirks he sends you when you catch him making out with whoever his new girlfriend of the week happens to be, and in the way he openly mocks you by calling you a prude in front of the entire student population. and most importantly, you see it in the way he watches you struggle to stay afloat while he cruises on by without a care in the world.

honestly? beomgyu knows better than to bully the girl he has a crush on just because he wants her attention, but who told you to make it so damn hard on him? it’s not like he didn’t consider being nice at first, but your aloofness to his charms only caused him to believe that he was nearly invisible to you, and he simply wouldn't stand for that. naturally, the best course of action was to get you to hate him — at least that means you’re actually paying attention to him. that’s what he tells himself as he’s sticking one of his spindly legs out as you walk past him, effectively tripping you in the process and making the entire class erupt into laughter. your nostrils flare as your head whips up to meet his condescending gaze. once again, your eyes are completely on him. check and mate.

that's what it feels like, at least, until you’re hurriedly pulled up by a concerned taehyun and he’s frantically asking if you’re alright while fixing up your (now) fucked up hair. your eyes, which were just brimming with anger and contempt for him, are now overflowing with lovesickness and infatuation for the other boy. well, never mind about the whole “checkmate” thing, it’s like beomgyu doesn’t even exist in the same world as you anymore.

“you need to relax,” taehyun says, gently closing the notebook in front of you and sliding over a few of your favorite snacks.

“th-thank you, tyun,” you reply, shyly. he grins when he sees he’s succeeded in distracting you.

“no problem, we wouldn’t want that pretty little head of yours to break from thinking too much, now would we?” he teases. you feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. he doesn’t really mean them, he never does, but that doesn’t stop your heart from racing when he says things like this to you.

having a crush on taehyun is only natural. that’s what you tell yourself, but the way you have a shrine dedicated to notes he’s passed you and polaroids you’ve taken together sitting prettily in your room is most definitely unnatural. he doesn’t need to know about that, though.

“my head’s not going to break,” you huff with a playful roll of your eyes. “i just need to finish outlining the major stops on the trip and i’ll be done, i promise.”

it’s true that all you have to do is outline where you’re going to stop on the council’s senior trip, which doesn’t sound like a big deal in theory, but in actuality, you have to clear each stop with the faculty and make sure you stay within the budget in spite of beomgyu’s insufferable attempts to exceed it. he’s made light of the finances and talked up special events to the rest of the council members, even taehyun. you tried to snuff out these suggestions with realistic arguments about how expensive it will be, but his response was to call you a killjoy. simple and straightforward, but effective, nonetheless. everyone, even taehyun, was so excited to try everything he hyped up, so how could you say no when taehyun turned to you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and practically begged you to relent? you, unfortunately, didn’t and don’t have the heart to deny him, so you caved, and now you’re stuck trying to figure it all out.

“you promise?” taehyun asks, snapping you out of your spiral, with his cute cat-like fangs showing ever so slightly.

“i promise,” you nod and he cheers triumphantly. again, you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm, and you’d bask in the moment if your gaze didn’t happen to catch beomgyu’s scrutinizing one at this very moment. he looks at you like he’s watching a monkey putting on a show, and your happiness is instantly replaced with a sense of embarrassment. you’ve never told a single soul about your feelings for taehyun, but eerily enough, beomgyu seems to know something the rest of the world does not. he seems well aware of your deepest secret. why he doesn’t just expose you in order to humiliate you, you have no idea, but you do know you don't like how much he knows.

you really, really shouldn’t be doing this. and certainly not here, of all places, but you just can’t help it. smoking weed is terrible for you, and you of all people should know, seeing as how you led a presentation on its ill effects in front of the entire student body in your freshman year. but it’s hard to truly care when you’re wound so tightly you feel like you’re about to burst.

beomgyu is getting his way again, as always, and you’re worried about having to make yet another last minute change to your trip’s itinerary for tomorrow because he called today’s stop boring, which led to the rest of the council silently agreeing. so here you sit on the top of the hotel building as the rest of the group are out sightseeing, taking a long, lung-scorching drag from the blunt in between your fingers.

“didn’t take you for the smoking type, madame president,” a voice cuts in from out of nowhere. beomgyu. fuck.

you try to keep your cool, but you end up choking on the smoke as you hurriedly go to flick the blunt away, but beomgyu’s hand grabs your wrist before you can quite make it there. his touch feels like a brand searing itself into your skin, but you’re too overstimulated to notice.

“i didn’t tell you you had to stop,” he muses condescendingly as you rip your wrist away from his grasp. he winces. you don't catch it. instead, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the presumption that he has the power to tell you to do anything.

“i’m not one of your little minions,” you snap in spite of yourself. “quit acting like you can boss me around.”

“is that so?” he questions, not without an air of smugness. alarm bells blare in your ears as you try to sniff out where his confidence is coming from. sure, he caught you smoking, but it’s your word against his. that’s right, there’s no need to be scared. if he says anything at all, you can just feign innocence and say you were the one who caught him sneaking out to smoke.

“yep,” you answer with a grin at your new plan, popping the “p” with the same obnoxiousness he usually terrorizes you with. you’re no match for him in terms of popularity, but you will never lose to him when it comes to credibility.

“you’re not afraid that i’ll snitch on you? you’re not scared of me telling everyone how little-miss-perfect spends her alone time?”

“you can try,” you reply with a shrug. he’s silent for a few moments, as if he’s in deep thought.

“you know what? you’re right,” he concedes with a sigh, and shockingly so. the beomgyu you know and loathe would never give up that easily. “you don’t have to listen to what i say. nobody would believe me over you, right?”

you eye him suspiciously before giving a slight nod.

“and most times, you would be absolutely right. like, just imagine if i told them you faked being sick and flaking on everyone else just so you could get high. nobody would believe me. i wouldn’t even believe me,” he continues. you have no idea why he’s going on and on about this, but you don’t like it.

“what the hell are you playing at?” you ask through clenched teeth.

“i mean, i’m just saying that nobody would believe me. not unless i showed them something like, i don’t know, this?” he says with a grin, holding up his phone and showing you an alarmingly high resolution photo of you taking a hit of your blunt. your eyes widen in sheer horror and you immediately jump to try to retrieve his phone from his hands, but beomgyu is quicker. he tauntingly holds it up in the air with one arm and stops you from coming any closer with the other. you try to jump to reach it, but you’re no match for his stature and long limbs. damn him for being so fucking tall.

“delete it!” you shriek, but all he does is click his tongue and shake his head like the insufferable asshole he is.

“oh, sure,” he says nonchalantly. your eyes widen even further as he lowers his phone and fiddles with the screen, still keeping you at arm’s length so you’re helpless to grab it for yourself.

“r-really?” you ask incredulously, sincerely taken aback by his compliance. stupid, stupid you. he tuts in response.

“you don’t really think i’ll make it that easy, do you?”

“fine,” you relent, jaw tense and eyebrows furrowed in an almost comically exaggerated way. “what the hell do you want from me?”

“nothing much, just lemme smoke with you,” he answers with a lopsided grin, showcasing a dimple in his cheek you had never noticed until now.

“w-what?” you ask dazedly.

“god, you’re slow,” he tells you with a roll of his eyes. “smoke with me and i’ll delete the picture. i won’t even mention it again.”

“are you being serious?” you whisper.

“dead serious,” he smirks.

“... fine,” you find yourself relenting, yet again. you don’t know if you necessarily trust him to actually follow through with his words, but what choice do you have? why he wants to smoke with you, you have no idea, but if it gets him to keep his mouth shut, then you really can’t ask for much more than that.

you sigh and take a seat, walking over near the entrance of the rooftop and propping yourself up against the concrete wall behind you. surprisingly, he stays planted in the same spot as if he didn’t hear you. you pat the ground next to you impatiently in light of his hesitation. he snaps out of his daze as he sits next to you so tentatively it’s like you’re a stray cat he’s afraid to scare off. well, good. it’s best for him not to get too comfortable around you. you hate the guy, after all.

you take another deep inhale and he watches you with a gaze that can only be described as lovesick, but you’re too preoccupied to pick up on it. when you exhale, you find yourself starting to pass the blunt over to beomgyu before thinking better of it.

“wait,” you say, pulling your hand back before he can grip the blunt.

“what?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“am i gonna catch something from you if we share this?”

“oh, fuck you,” he grunts, effectively snatching the blunt back and putting it to his lips.

“it’s a real question! i’ve seen the girls you mess around with, and i’m not trying to catch anything from you!”

“i’m careful,” he argues with a roll of his eyes. “a lot more careful than you think.” you pout at his reaction, but for some reason, you believe his words.

“if i catch anything, it's on you,” you reply, hackles still raised. shockingly, he doesn't press the matter any more than that.

“... so,” he says after exhaling a deep drag.

“so what?” you ask.

“so why are you out here smoking instead of going out with everyone else?”

“do you seriously think you have the right to ask me that?” you scoff. there’s no way in hell beomgyu is trying to get you to be vulnerable right now.

on beomgyu’s end, he can’t help but feel slighted, even though your reaction is definitely his fault on account of how he essentially antagonizes you at every given opportunity.

“i’m just saying that it’s weird how you’re here instead of, you know, actually enjoying the trip.”

“oh, please. as if there was gonna be any possible way for me to have fun on this fucking thing,” you bitterly reply.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks without any malice, but with genuine curiosity.

truly, honestly, sincerely, you do not know why you say your next words. maybe it’s because you’re high, or maybe it’s because you need to tell someone — anyone — how you really feel, for once. all you really know is: you can’t stop yourself.

“i mean, how could i possibly enjoy myself when i’m left to figure everything out on my own? everyone only cares about having fun with no actual idea how we’ll do it while realistically staying within the budget and our timeline, and my vice president is deadweight, so it’s not like he’ll help,” you complain, taking a jab at beomgyu in light of your waning self control. you’re prepared to verbally spar with him after that last comment, but he surprises you.

“is that how you really feel?” he asks.

“yeah, it is,” you tell him. “that’s how i always feel,” you can’t help but add, more to yourself and less to him, but he hears you, anyway.

“i’m sorry.” you whip your head around to make sure you’re not having some sort of auditory hallucination. did beomgyu just apologize to you? it can’t be. there’s no earthly way.

“i’m sorry. i really am,” he repeats. your whole world feels like it’s thrown off of its axis when you see how somber and genuinely apologetic he looks.

“it’s… it’s fine,” is all you can really muster up the words to say.

“no, it’s not. i’ll help you as much as i can, i swear,” he earnestly insists. you nod in bewilderment at his earnestness — feeling too awkward to do much else.

things are quiet for the next few minutes while you two are passing the blunt back and forth. beomgyu can feel the high finally hitting him in full force, and it takes every brain cell within his clouded mind (as well as every ounce of his courage) to finally get out his next sentence.

“why him?” he mumbles so lowly, you don’t quite catch his words.

“what?” you lazily ask.

“why taehyun?” once again, you find yourself choking on the smoke. god, you’ve really got to get a grip and stop letting beomgyu surprise you — your lungs would thank you for it.

“w-what do you mean?” well, you always knew that beomgyu knows about your feelings for taehyun, but hearing him directly ask about them is enough to throw you off.

“i mean, why do you like him?” he asks, devoid of all the confidence he usually oozes.

“what’s not to like?” you say offhandedly. if you cared enough to pay attention to his reaction, you’d see how he withers at your words. even more so when you continue.

“he’s really, really funny. plus, he’s handsome. not to mention smart and —”

“so what? i’m all of those things,” beomgyu interrupts, irritation bitterly lacing every edge of his words. “and if you call him smart, anybody can be.” oh hell no. you’re so indignant at him calling taehyun stupid, you don’t even catch beomgyu’s childlike envy towards him, let alone why he feels it.

“just because his grades don’t compare to yours, doesn’t mean he’s stupid,” you argue.

“then what does it mean?” he asks with a roll of his eyes at your obvious bias for the other boy.

“it… it just means that he’s —”

“a real genius. yeah, i’m sure you think so,” he snarks.

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” you snap, despite your better judgment to just let it roll off of your back. if he were talking about you, you may very well have done so, but this is taehyun he’s talking about. your taehyun.

“it means he can’t compare to me,” he says, more as means to convince himself rather than convince you, but you’re so angry, you don’t even notice.

“and what makes you think you’re so goddamn special?” you ask, sarcasm absolutely dripping out of your voice.

“i’m funnier, hotter, smarter, richer. how can he compare to me?” he snorts. if someone were to ask you why you feel so defensive at this moment, you would be unable to say why, but if you had to guess, you’d say it’s because taehyun is so good it’s impossible to see him any other way. your frustration builds up, hotter and hotter in your chest until you’re on the brink of exploding.

“you say that, but he will always be something you’re not,” you spit.

“and what, pray tell, might that be?” he cockily challenges.

“nice,” you say with conviction, and it may be cheesy, but you mean it. “he is really, really fucking nice and considerate. that’s why i like him.” well, that one went straight to his gut.

“i can be nice!” he exclaims. “i tried to be nice, but you just didn’t care! it was like i was invisible to you!” all you can do is stare, but he’s not finished. “you act like you’re some fucking angel, but i saw the way you looked at me like i’m some stupid, rich asshole who isn’t worth a damn.”

finally, you realize that something is wrong.

“beomgyu, why do you even care about what i think about you?” he doesn’t give a fuck about what you have to say in any other context, today’s example being only the latest in the litany of times where he’s shown you that exact sentiment.

at this, he’s silent, which you truly did not anticipate in lieu of his tirade mere moments ago. you take a good look at the boy, and you finally register that the tips of his ears are a bright red under the fluorescence of the lone light shining next to the doorway.

“i just… i always care about what you think,” he mumbles, face growing redder and redder under your scrutinizing stare as he breaks eye contact with you.

“you could’ve fooled me,” you snort. “you’re always undermining everything i say and do. it’s almost like you’re doing it on… purpose…” you trail off, puzzle pieces finally fitting together in a way you would never suspect.

“beomgyu?” you ask.

“mm?” he murmurs, still refusing to make eye contact.

“do you… do you like me?” and the question sounds so silly you can’t believe you even asked it. this guy fucking hates you, you’re sure of it, but you grow less and less sure of this sentiment with every moment he hesitates to answer.

“... yeah. yeah, i do. but so what? you don’t even care,” he mopes, and just like that, everything makes sense. his teasing, his contrarian nature, and his obnoxiousness are just part of his ruse. he’s just like a child begging for attention by acting out, but to what end? just so you’ll pay attention to him? well, he was on the money when he said you didn’t like him even when he tried to be kind, so maybe, in his own sick little way, he was right.

but that doesn’t mean you don't feel completely blindsided by this revelation.

“what the hell?” is all you can manage to say.

“shut up!” he demands with no real heat to it, just embarrassment.

“i… i can’t believe your solution was to be an asshole,” you say incredulously. “if you had just been nice, or even just normal, i would have warmed up to you. i know i was being childish, but goddamn, you’re worse.”

if he was blushing before, and he was, he’s absolutely blood red now.

“i-it’s your fault for being so judgmental!” he sputters, but even you know he’s just grasping at straws. it all makes the worst kind of sense to you now, and you’re very much shocked at how oblivious you were mere moments ago.

“i can't believe this,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to your temples in an effort to straighten everything out in your muddled head. “you hate me.”

“you’re so dramatic,” he huffs with a roll of his eyes, which would convincingly come across as disdainful, if only his words weren’t so shaky and unsure.

you take a good look at him now, and he can feel it. he’s a very handsome guy, and he knows it, but he can’t help but feel vulnerable. he clears his throat and straightens up his posture when he thinks that you may be comparing him to taehyun... you are not.

none of his actions escape you, which is a far cry from what usually happens, but now that you've discovered his true feelings, it’s almost impossible not to catch his tells; you even wonder how you missed them. his awkward handling of the situation is endearing, in a way. you like watching him squirm, which you realize must be the way he felt about you all those times he teased you. it just makes you wanna push him more.

you’re not exactly known for your impulsivity. in fact, you’re known for the exact opposite. you take things slowly, steadily. you plan every minute detail in consideration of every possible outcome, but as for right now? right now, as you sit and watch beomgyu pout, you just want to let go and do what you really want, and what you really want is to watch him break.

you grab his face with your hands and turn it towards you, and he scowls for just a moment before blinking his big, reddened eyes in curiosity at your unreadable gaze.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks, too exhilarated by your touch to think about batting you away.

this is a bad idea — a horrible one, even — but that does nothing to deter you. how can it when his skin on your palms makes it feel like there's pure electricity thrumming through your bones? fuck it, might as well.

you don’t realize it yourself, but you look incredibly focused as you pull him in, his lips meeting yours. you’d think with the shock he must feel that he’d be taken aback for a second, but beomgyu, as always, does not abide by your rules. he immediately grabs your face and presses his lips even harder against yours. you’re surprised at how much heat is behind it — how much frustration.

it’s incredibly interesting to watch his reactions as you kiss him, which would be weird, but he’s far too engrossed in this newfound pleasure to notice your stare. his eyes are shut, but they tremble with every passing second, making his long eyelashes quiver. you never noticed how long they are before now. you chalk up the swiping of your tongue against his chapped lips to sheerly wanting to study his reaction, and oh man, it does not disappoint. he whines against your mouth, eyebrows furrowed like he’s pleading for something. you want to find out what that something is. cruelly, you take his bottom lip between your teeth and lightly bite. he whines even louder, his eyes fluttering open, and he pulls away and says his next words in a tinny voice.

“c-can i touch you?” he pants, forehead pressed against yours, lips cherry red.

“no,” you say with a smile against his mouth. he would whine again if he could, but he can’t quite do it at the moment, not when your hands have moved from his cheeks in order to explore the rest of him. you curiously run your fingers through his long, silky hair, and he can’t help but moan when you experimentally tug at it. it’s breathy and light, and you’re intrigued, to say the very least.

you don’t have the most experience in the world when it comes to the, uh, matters between men and women, but you are a fast learner by nature, so it takes no time at all to figure out where he likes to be touched. his lips, obviously, and his hair. his ears, so flushed and pink and cute, must be particularly sensitive, and you test this hypothesis by dragging your teeth along his earlobe. he lets out a loud, broken moan when you do, and anyone else in the world would have been embarrassed by making such a noise, but not beomgyu. he’s so pretty and pliable underneath your touch, which feels so tantalizing that all shame escapes him.

“do you like that, beomie?” you whisper teasingly, employing a nickname you’ve heard from a few of his ex-flings, and another strangled cry leaves his pouty lips when he feels your breath touch his ear.

“mhmm, i like it! like it so much, princess,” he babbles, eyes screwed shut as you trail your lips from his ear to his unblemished neck.

“princess?” you can’t help but question. “where’d that come from?”

“think about calling you that all the time,” he moans as you suck on a previously unmarred patch of skin on his neck. “think about you all the time.”

“and what do you think, beomie?” you whisper encouragingly, as if he’s a stupid boy just on the precipice of understanding a laughably simple concept.

“th-think about how much i wanna fuck you,” he admits. “h-how much i want to fill you up, make you m-mine.” honest to god, your panties were already feeling a little sticky just from teasing him alone, but his words make your core heat up tenfold. you shift your legs while trying to make yourself more comfortable, but you fail miserably.

“you’re delusional,” you snort, as you pull away from him, but his lips try to chase yours before you lightly push him away.

“i’m not! i-i jus’ wanna make you feel good,” he slurs, and oh god, you simply can’t be saved.

“well, wanna make your delusions reality?” you can’t help but ask before you can think better of it, but when you see how his eyes light up in hope and pure, primal lust, you realize you don’t regret it.

the walk to his hotel room is silent, so unbearably silent that you can’t help but second-guess yourself. are you really gonna do this with beomgyu of all people? but it’s been so long since you’ve let go, who will it hurt just to have fun for once? maybe you, probably you, but who cares? it can't be any worse than it is now. besides, you're graduating soon. if things go as badly as you’re pretty sure they will, you’ll never have to see beomgyu again after the fact. plus, things really can’t seem to get any more embarrassing than the humiliation ritual you put yourself through every day that you spend pining after taehyun.

and so, you enter his hotel room, which is easily double the size of yours (sans a roommate, no less) with a look of determination. beomgyu completely misses it, though, as he shuts the door behind you and immediately tugs you towards his bed, quick to rekindle the atmosphere you two had on the rooftop. surprisingly, it’s not hard to do so when he’s back to kissing you so desperately it’s like you’re his lifeline.

he impatiently swipes his tongue across your lips, mirroring what you did earlier, silently asking for entry. you oblige. he groans at the feeling of your warm tongue brushing against his own, savoring the way you taste, which yes, does have notes of weed, but there’s something sweet in there, too. something he’s only ever fantasized about with his hand down his pants.

one of your hands is currently tangled in his hair, just the way he likes it, while the other one exploratorily finds its way down his lithe body. you’ve never done what you do next before, but he seems so incredibly sensitive, it feels like a matter of course to put your hand up his shirt and tweak one of his hardened nipples. he lets out a strangled cry, which only makes you certain that you’ve done the right thing.

“is it good, beomie? is it everything you wanted it to be?” you tease. he nods like an idiot.

“y-yes, even better,” he moans. “feels s-so good.”

in the dim lighting of his hotel room, you can see that he means it as the tent in his pants gets harder and harder to ignore. the poor thing is so wound up by your caresses that he may just cum untouched, anyway, but what fun would that be? so, before you can think too much about it, you palm him through his jeans.

“ah!” he cries, eyebrows furrowed. you palm him again, rougher this time, and just like clockwork, he cries even louder.

“want me to keep going?” you ask, studying and soaking up every reaction of his. all he can do is nod.

he unzips his pants and he’s all too willing to help you slide them off of him, tossing them on the floor before hurriedly grabbing one of your hands to meet his barely clothed bulge. it’s big, because it’s beomgyu and of fucking course it is. as if he needed another reason to be conceited.

it doesn’t seem like he’s very conceited, though, as he moans like a whore at you hooking your fingers under his waistband and tugging his boxers off of him. his cock is very obviously leaking, and it’s as bright red as his ears were earlier, completely flushed with beads of precum drooling off of it. there are angry veins running up the sides of it, which sounds gross, in theory, but you can’t help but feel like they make it even prettier. you gulp when you imagine how they’ll feel when they’re dragging in and out of your pussy.

“don’t stare!” he says, breaking you out of your reverie. honestly? he knows it’s pretty, just like every other part of him, but he feels incredibly scrutinized under your gaze. you don’t listen, still very much staring as you take your thumb and experimentally swipe it over his thick, reddened tip. then again. then again.

“s-stop teasing me, please,” he whimpers, but you’re so enamored with his reactions you can’t help yourself. you spit on your hand and grab the base of his cock, which is no small feat considering how thick it is, and you give it a harsh tug. he bites his bottom lip to try to stifle his moans as you start to jerk him off, applying pressure exactly where he needs it most, but he quickly gives up on being quiet when you bend over and lick his tip. he tastes salty, but not unbearably so, and in a way, he’s almost sweet. that could just be your imagination, though.

beomgyu is no longer trying to bite back his moans, but he's stuck in another dilemma: he can't seem to unscrew his eyes for long enough to fully appreciate the sight before him. one of your hands is gripping the muscle of his thigh as leverage while the other aids in squeezing and pulling the parts of him you can’t quite fit in your mouth. you’re not looking at him, which would normally be disappointing, but it’s impossible to be anything less than satisfied when you’re hollowing on your cheeks to suck on him even harder. you take your hand from his dick and ghost your fingers over his balls, and he has to push you off of him so he doesn’t blow his load right then and there.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, wiping some spit and precum off of your lips. he’s enchanted by the way your lips are swollen from sucking on him, so much so that he almost forgets to answer.

“‘m gonna c-cum,” he says shyly.

“and?”

“i don’t want to yet. i wanna make you feel good, too,” he argues petulantly.

“oh? is that what you do in your dreams? you make me feel good? i’m surprised, i figured you’d like me to do all the work and —”

“shut up!” he hisses, and you can’t help but laugh.

“let me eat you out,” he offers, trying to distract you from his evident embarrassment. it’s tempting, very tempting, indeed, but you’re so hot and bothered that you kind of just want to get to the main event. especially since you just know it’ll feel good to finally have him inside of you. it’s been so long since you’ve been with somebody, after all.

“no, thanks. do you have a condom?” you ask, ignoring his suggestion, and he’d be humiliated if only your question wasn’t so damn exciting.

“n-no…” he stammers. your face falls for a second before he rushes to get out his next words. “b-but i can pull out!”

“sorry, this was fun and all, but i’m not letting you fuck me without protection.”

“please?” he begs. “i’m clean, i swear! i told you i’m more careful than you think. i really don’t sleep around that much, honestly,” he admits.

“what?” you ask, genuinely bewildered before calling his bluff. “bullshit. i see you with a new girl all the fucking time. quit lying.”

“i’m not! i promise — i promise — i don’t sleep around a lot. i only act like i do ‘cause of you!”

“because of me?” and it actually makes sense when you think about it. he acts out, bullies you, and pretends he’s involved with a lot more girls than he actually is just to try to get you to look his way. oh man, what are you gonna do with him?

“you’re so pathetic,” you sneer before hiking up your skirt and mounting him.

“w-what are you —”

“shut up before i change my mind,” you spit. and just like magic, his mouth is snapped shut.

you start by rubbing your clothed pussy against his bare cock. your slick has already ruined the fabric beyond salvation, so you don’t really mind ruining it some more. beomgyu is absolutely in awe at your actions, rutting against you feverishly. he’s greedy, if nothing else, so he impatiently moves your soaked panties to the side and tries to seek relief in your warm hole. you let him grab your hips as he tries to ease himself into you, but he’s stunned at the resistance he’s met with as he tries to push himself in.

“s-so tight,” he groans as his fat cock breaches the tight rim of your pussy. the muscles contract as they stretch to accommodate his widened tip.

you were right about how good you anticipated the feeling of his veins scraping against your insides would be, and you revel in it as you sink down inch by scorching inch. beomgyu, on his end, looks absolutely devastated as you slowly take him in. his mouth is twisted open in a silent scream, and his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. when your ass finally meets his hips, you can feel his length pulsating all the way up to your cervix. it’s a snug fit, too, and it takes everything in him not to hump you like a fucking dog.

slowly, you raise yourself up again, almost completely off of him, before slamming yourself back down. then again. then again. he whimpers when you do it, grabbing your hips to help steady you as you ride him for everything that he’s worth. he’s enraptured as your breasts bounce with each movement, and he can’t help himself now — he begins to thrust into you wildly, matching your rhythm and making you cry out. if you were in your right state of mind, you’d feel sorry for the poor souls who are on the same floor as him.

“pussy so f-fucking good,” he grunts as he feels you squeezing around him, and you’re about to smirk before he pushes you onto the bed, then turning you on your side so you’re facing away from him. he tries to slide back into your needy cunt, but the new position makes you feel even tighter. still, with the combination of his slick and yours, he’s able to push himself in again before rutting into you. he presses one of his big hands against your stomach while the other one hastily grabs one of your tits, and suddenly he's back to fucking you like a wild animal.

you've never in your life felt so wanted, so needed, but beomgyu needs you in a way so carnal it makes you feel even more lustful. he nips your ear, mimicking your actions from earlier, and begs for your praise.

“a-are you feeling good? you’re feeling good, right?” he chokes out as he hits a particularly deep part of your pussy.

“so good, beomie,” you moan. “you’re fucking me so good.” those words would normally never leave your lips, but he seems desperate for your validation, and you know he’s too far gone to mock you.

“oh god, this is w-what i dreamed about,” he babbles as he takes the hand that was pressing on your stomach and uses it to massage your clit, earning a strangled scream from you. “th-this is what i’ve always wanted.” and if you could see his face, you’d notice how his eyes roll backwards in sheer ecstasy.

“i’m gonna cum!” you cry, all self-restraint gone.

“m-me too, princess,” he moans. “c-can i cum inside?” it’s a pipe dream if he’s ever had one, and you can believe that he’s had one, but your response floors him.

“yes, yes, yes! do it inside, i want it!” and that’s enough. he spits out a curse as he hammers himself into you, making you almost sob as you come undone with him inside of you. the feeling of your pussy sucking him in even more as it wildly contracts around him pulls him over the edge, so he paints your walls with his seed and fucks you through both of your highs.

he stays there until he goes soft, slowly pulling out and watching in awe as the cum spills out of your hole. he pulls you flush against his body and sighs as he tenderly fixes up your hair.

“i really, really like you,” he earnestly whispers into your hair.

“i —”

“it’s okay if you don’t like me yet,” he interrupts. “i can wait.” you’re glad you’re not facing him, because you actually feel a little awkward at his sincere words, but you can’t deny that it makes your heart flutter to hear them.

“okay,” you say.

“okay?” he asks, just to be sure he heard you correctly.

“yes, i-it’s okay. you can wait.” he’s so excited that he throws himself on top of you and turns you to face him, lips greedily meeting yours, putting every ounce of yearning into the kiss.

honestly? with the way things are going right now, he probably won’t have to wait very long at all.

notes pt. 2: yeah... i'm so sorry that this is bad i'm just used to writing angst angst angst and this def veered more into cute territory but whatever just don't bully me

permanent taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @midwinterblizzard @everythingvirgoes @sooberryworld @20-cms @inkigayocamman @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1 @shymexican @milkandoranges @that1sadgrl @archoive @paegesoobin @buttercreamerie @ifwtxt @softesyoongi @serenityism00

mad about you taglist: @m00gyu @bambammtori @yelsuki @denleave1088 @hyewka

join my taglist here!

#niningtori #mad about you #sub!idol #sub!beomgyu #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fic #txt angst #txt fic #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt x reader #txt x you #nini's hard hours #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff

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help-itrappedmyself · 8 months

Text

Danny Punches a Clown

Danny is just about done with today. He’s tired and cold and he doesn’t know where he is. After running from his parents to an entirely different dimension, he feels he has the right to be a little bit cranky. He has barely any supplies and no idea where he’s going to sleep tonight, and all of that was before an idiot dressed as a clown started running around.

Danny does not like clowns in general, but this one was pissing him off. The buffoon had shown up with a bunch of people in clown masks hauling guns, and they dragged him into an old warehouse with a crowd of people. Now they were all sitting quietly, downstairs while he and two other children had been taken away from the goons into a room alone with the man fully dressed as a clown. He’s got green hair, a purple suit, the makeup on his face, over what appears to be scars but might just be special effects makeup to make this particular clown even creepier.

When the crazy clown started muttering about bats, Danny gave up on trying to see where this would go.

“Hey, crazy clown?” He asked, standing up. He had interrupted the crazy clown’s monologue to his own computer, but the clown seemed too shocked to be upset about this. “ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” Danny shrugged, the two other kids who are with him, two boys that are entirely too young for this situation, are looking at him like he’s insane. Which, valid, the crazy clown does have a gun, but Danny is already mostly dead, so he doesn’t have the same concerns. Danny makes his way over to the side of the desk that the clown is on, realizing that his monologuing to the computer is actually because he’s streaming something. Eh, whatever, not his business so Danny ignores it. “ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The crazy clown starts laughing, full-on bent at the waist, arms wrapped around his stomach laughing. And Danny just wants to sleep, so ignoring the fact that this will put him on the video, he takes one more step forward and just punches the clown in the face.

He has to use his ghost strength for it, but he concentrates the ability on only his arm so he doesn’t completely transform. Like this, he is strong enough to knock that crazy clown right out in one punch and he falls to the floor in a heap.

“ Right, well, you kids want to come with me?” Danny asks the children. They nod immediately and run up to him, he lowers them out the window down to a stack of crates below, waiting for them to climb all the way down to the street below before lowering the second kid, because he doesn’t know how sturdy those crates are. Once the second kid is down and they’re both running down the street, he follows.

He’s about to try and figure out what to do about all the other people inside when the sound of a fight breaks out in the warehouse and the gunshots are Danny’s cue to run. He does not know enough about wherever he is to start showing off his powers just yet and he doesn’t really have enough strength to use them at the moment anyway, given the fight with his parents and his lack of sleep.

So he runs, and hopes that everything will be okay as he tries to find someplace to take a nap. And he forgets about the fact that he is going to be on that video until after he wakes up the next morning.

Now with part 2!

#dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #batman #danny phantom #my writing #dc x dp

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taintandviolent · 2 months

Text

Master ; Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: [PART ONE HERE!] It's been a few days since Eddie Munson and reader had their little hookup in the back of his van, and she's jonesing for more. After a D&D campaign, Eddie invites her back to his trailer.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.8K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), light bondage, no use of y/n, fucking to music (because he would), eating out, p in v, slight cockwarming at the end.

a/n: i am so overwhelmed by the response to my first eddie fic!!! you guys are CRAZY! thank you though, from the bottom of my heart. i hope this part lives up to the last part! ps: i've never played d&d, so just ignore how bland that section is. thanks. ps #2: the album that eddie puts on is Ride the Lightning, so if you wanna' listen to that while you read.... please do. not beta-read, yada yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

For the most part, everything had returned to normal with the very welcomed exceptions of a few heated glances, some knowing smiles, and the occasional touch when he passed by you. All of which had you reeling, viciously fanning the embers of your desire for him. Many times throughout the week, you’d considered approaching him for one reason or another, but you were holding out for reasons unbeknownst to you.

In other news, Jason had requested a new lab partner - or tried - but Mrs. Cowan didn’t bother entertaining his request, much to your dismay. So the last period was spent with him, trying to remain cordial, but silently cursing everything he did.

That morning, you’d woken up with a fiery craving for Eddie. It couldn’t be sated by merely thinking of him, or watching him from afar. You need to feel him again. Out front of Hawkins High, you bend down to retrieve your backpack, nestling your patterned Trapper Keeper in the crook of your arm.

And as if on cue…

“I’m your turbo lover! Better run for cover!”

You freeze and straighten up, a chill shuddering up your spine. There’s no way someone is just playing that song. Your thighs press together tightly, as if doing so is inhibiting anything. You spin around, searching for the source of the music. And boy, do you find it. Eddie’s van screeches around the corner, just in front of you.

You watch as Eddie then pulls into a parking spot, his arm hanging out the window of the van. He lifts it, giving you a casual wave, even though that gesture is anything but casual. For a moment, you’re almost mad. He’s all but ruined that song for you, because now all you can think about is him fingerbanging you in the back of his van. You let out a frustrated huff as the music dies off and the door creaks open.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says as he passes, his voice dripping with nonchalance. Your mouth gapes open, appalled that he didn’t tackle you in kisses right then and there. You watch, wordlessly, as he takes the steps two at a time and march after him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. He wasn’t getting away from you that quickly. Thankfully, this semester, you had two classes with him; English in the morning and History after lunch. The little game he was playing was vicious and mean, and you hated it.

“Eddie, wait!” You call, trotting down the hallways. He slows his pace and gradually turns, a sly expression on his face.

“Yeees?”

“What are you doing?”

“Uh.. y’know… just going to class.” He answers coolly, nodding his head towards Miss Tipton’s door. You steal a glance at his body; he’s wearing a Metallica shirt with his go-to black jeans, and he’s got a black backpack slung over his right shoulder. His hand is clamped around the handle of that lunchbox he always carries, his rings clanking together as he adjusts his grip. You remember what those rings felt like, entangled in your own fingers. At the lewd thought, you have to withhold a sigh. He’s so… you dig your nails into the plastic of your binder, growling slightly.

“You can’t just…” You stutter, looking at him with big, pleading eyes. “I’m going crazy over here.”

“Yeah? So what do you want me to do about it?” Suddenly walking you backwards, he urges you against someone’s locker, his belt buckle pressing hard into your stomach. Your breath comes out in a rush. “You want me to do it right here?”

He brushes the backs of his fingers along your jawline, teasingly. Your eyes drift behind him, watching people’s eyes flit to you and widen as they pass. A few people snigger and make some comments, likely disparaging in nature. Of course, they must be thinking, who would want to be that close to the Freak of Hawkins? You groan inwardly and lean your head back against the slotted metal.

“No… we can’t.”

“Then you’re gonna’ have to be patient, aren’t you, sweetheart?” His voice is husky and low, his breaths washing over your face. You frown slightly, but nod. You’d gotten something… the warmed, lingering sensation of his hips pressed against yours was enough to get you through the rest of the day, at least. He backs off, smirking, and reaches for the door, pulling it open. With eyebrows raised, he holds the door for you, letting you duck underneath his arm.

Once in the classroom, you pick a seat and settle in. After a few moments, Miss Tipton turns to the chalkboard to write something and in doing so, turns her back away from the class. A few seconds later, something hits your shoulder, bouncing off of it. You look down at your feet and spot a folded up piece of notebook paper. Making sure that the teacher is still occupied, you bend down and scrape your fingers against the floor, scooping it into your grasp. You quickly unfold it, your eyes scanning over the scrawled letters.

Today after last period. Meet me in the theatre.

EDDIE

PS: I miss the way you taste.

Your stomach tightens. Tucking your face into your shoulder, you sneakily peer back behind you. To your right, a few seats down, Eddie meets your gaze and feigns innocence, widening his eyes at you before casually scratching the side of his face with a capped pen. You withhold a smile and turn back around, tucking the note into your binder. Class continues without a hitch. In fact, it goes by surprisingly quickly.

After class, you hurry to the payphone outside, dial home and bring the receiver to your ear. It rings twice before you hear your mother’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Honey, is everything okay?” You can hear the worry in her voice.

You smile, leaning against the nearby brick wall. “Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to call you and let you know that I’m going to be home later today. I’m uh… thinking about joining a club.”

“A club? At school? Honey, that’s great. Just be careful, okay?”

You straighten up, hunching over the payphone again. “I will, I promise. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye-bye.”

Every class speeds by, having been spent fantasizing. You’re in deep, too deep maybe. Short of drawing hearts around his name, you’ve allowed yourself to become completely wound around his guitar-calloused fingers, you’ve imagined every scenario possible and succeeded in riling yourself up throughout the day. Prepwork, you’d call it.

So, later that afternoon, when you make it to the theatre, quietly opening one of the double doors, you’re almost disappointed that it’s a room full of boys. Sure, Eddie’s there, sitting at the head of the table, but it’s a room full of boys all the same. Foolishly, Hellfire Club wasn’t a frontrunner in your thoughts, you hadn’t even considered it or the fact that he had invited you to one of the sessions, and you’d agreed. You grimace and take a few steps forward, bringing yourself out of the shadows.

“Ah, she arrives.” Eddie’s voice booms, echoing in the acoustics of the theatre. He’s oozing confidence, and you bite your lip, silently talking your own arousal down.

“Hey guys,” you say, trying to mask your nerves with a casual wave. “Eddie invited me.”

“Indeed I did.” He’s perched on an ornately carved chair, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers laced together. Eddie then jumps over the arm of the chair and bends down, retrieving something from his backpack. Casually, but almost theatrically, he strolls over. Once he’s in front of you, he reaches for your hand, pulling it up and carefully lays the item in your hands, his fingertips grazing the edge of your palm. It’s a Hellfire Club shirt, just like the one he wears. A smirk crawls across your lips; you were now technically in possession of two of his shirts.

After changing behind the heavy velvet curtains, you get situated in one of the empty seats, and Eddie explains the campaign, setting the scene with all of his elaborate, fantastic descriptions. This guy was a natural born storyteller, and you could tell he had a passion for this silly little game. Too quickly, it came to be your turn. You had no idea what you were doing, and you realize that you haven’t been paying attention at all. Your attention was… elsewhere the entire time. Panic grips your throat as everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for your roll.

“Uhhh,” You look apprehensively at the dice in your palm. Unlike regular dice, they have way too many sides and you don’t know what you need to achieve. Eddie assured you that you’d get the hang of it, but so far… you haven’t. “I have no idea but roll a one-hundred to charm the DM?”

“One-hundre— WHAT! That doesn’t even make sense. She’s not even playing!” The kid with the curly hair – Dusty? Dustin? – sounded frustrated. He took this very seriously. They’d all briefly introduced themselves as you’d sat down, but your attention had been on and still was on Eddie the entire time, so you hardly retained any of their names. You are enchanted with his energy tonight; the way he masterfully navigates the campaign, engaging with each of the rolls and weaving an intricate story that none of the other players can predict, but adore all the same.

You two make eye contact. Eddie withholds a smile. You can see it — the middle of his plush lips start to spread across his teeth but he reels it back in. It takes an immense amount of self control, but you don’t make finger guns at him. Instead, you toss the dice back onto the table, not bothering to watch what you’d rolled. With a groan, you lean back in the chair, which creaks in protest. “Fine,” you lamented, lacing your fingers behind your head. “I’ll just watch. I don’t understand this anyway.”

“Lady Terowyn,” he starts, saying the name that he’d given you at the start. He holds your gaze strongly, leaning forward in his chair and gripping the sides of the table, his rings clanking against the wood. “You seem to have acquired a ferocious malady. You can roll again in hopes that Blossom Tealeaf will assist you with a cure…”

“Who was Blossom Tealeaf again?” You ask, almost exasperated and look around at the other players. Dustin rolls his eyes, slumping down in his chair. “Alright, alright. Sheesh. I’ll accept this… illness and just watch this time.”

“Alright, then. Lady Terowyn succumbs to the vicious curse and perishes. What shall you do?”

The boys fall into a heated discussion and Eddie’s eyes find yours again. Without saying anything, he’s saying a lot. He’s smiling like he did before he kissed you, and the thought drives you insane. You have half a mind to climb across the table and go sit in his lap, sweeping your hips back and forth until his cock hardens underneath you, but you wouldn’t dare interrupt his campaign; it means too much to him and the others.

So, you sat. You sat, commenting, cheering the boys on when they figured something out, and gasped when their fearless dungeon master bested them yet again. Eventually, they warmed up to you, the coldness gone from their responses, even going so far as to involve you in some of the discussions. This went on for a few hours, until finally, they lost against the merciless beast that they’d been fighting. After the group dispersed outside, Eddie towed you to his van, promising he’d take you home.

He pulls you into a kiss, his tongue dancing along your lower lip and slipping inside to wrestle with yours. You moan into his mouth, and slide your hands into the warmth inside his leather jacket. Never breaking the kiss, he gently pushes you against the side of his van, the metal cool behind your back. One of his hands moves to your leg, hitching it up around his waist to bring you even closer to him. He bucks his hips into you once, and your breath hitches.

“It really is fun,” he starts, brushing his lips against your neck, trailing delicate kisses down the length of it. “Y’know… if you’d actually try playing it.”

You whine, tilting your head to the side and allowing more space for him to kiss. “Listen, I was distracted, okay?”

“Oh, by what?”

“Like you don’t know.”

Eddie chuckles, a breathy sound just underneath your earlobe. His lips ghost down your neck, stopping at a place between it and your shoulder, and he sucks the skin into his mouth. You wince at the sudden pressure, but don’t protest. It’ll inevitably leave a mark, and it seems he knows it. Smiling at the reddened skin, he leans back to look at you, to gaze into your half-lidded eyes.

“You wanna’ go back to my place? Wayne’s outta’ town…”

You aren’t sure who Wayne is… but the implications of that hang heavy between you two. For a moment, you say nothing, letting your gaze drift back and forth between his eyes and his lips, but finally, you nod. Eddie grins and is dragging you around to the passenger side before you have a chance to change your mind. He throws open the door and circles his hand in front of it, beckoning you inside. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

You can’t help but smile – the theatrics of his campaign are clearly still lingering. Once you’re in, Eddie shuts the door and hurries back around to the other side, retrieving his keys from his pocket. Tossing a confident smile your way, he stabs them into the ignition, turns them and the engine of the van roars to life.

The drive from the high school to the trailer park takes about ten minutes, but feels like twenty. Every time he pulls up on a stop sign, his hand drifts over to your thigh. He kneads it, his rings bumping together. Just when it starts to get good, just when his hand starts to drift up your skirt, he pulls it away, and accelerates.

Once you’re inside, Eddie flips on the lights and turns to you, expectantly. He knows what’s coming. He’s been riling you up the entire ride. The second the door is shut, your lips are on him, smearing hot, wet kisses all over his neck and jawline. Eddie’s laughing breathily, his hands roaming around your waist and ass. “So needy,” he says.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we….” Your voice trailed off, meeting his mouth in a sloppy kiss. Eddie keeps you there, holding your face tightly. He walks you backwards past the kitchen towards his bedroom until the back of your calves hit the mattress, and you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands trail up your waist, winding around the front of your body. It’s warm to the touch, and Eddie smiles as his large hands cup your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Fuck, Eddie, oh my god…”

You claw at his leather jacket, trying to push it off his shoulders. You can’t get enough of him, and want him naked on top of you immediately. Enough teasing, enough foreplay. You’re desperate for him.

“Someone’s grabby. We’ll fix that.” He pushes you lightly backwards onto the bed, your ass bouncing against the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest.

He reaches around, pulling the black bandana from his back pocket, and shakes it out from its folded state. The heat that blossoms between your thighs is only worsening, becoming unbearable. One knee pressed into the bed, his body tilted slightly forward towards you. “Hands together, m’lady.”

At first, you stare, dumbfounded, up at him. He was… so cute. The dim, yellow lighting of the table lamp behind him creates a halo around his fluffy hair, akin to a renaissance painting. Some artist had to have painted an angel from this point of view… but there was nothing angelic about what was taking place. Nothing, because you were about to —

“Hello?” You blink once, twice. Had he been speaking the entire time? He quirks a brow, very obviously waiting for your response. His warm, chocolatey eyes hold yours in a death grip as he wraps the bandana around your wrists, tying it tightly in a knot. He hadn’t told you to look at him, at least not verbally. Deep down, you knew that you couldn’t look away if you tried. He knew that too. “Hands to yourself until I say so.”

“Yes, master.” He freezes, with his fingers still on the buckle of his belt and raises his head back up to look at you.

You try to speak, to undo what you’ve said, but only squeaks and a nervous string of ‘Uhhh’s come out. You drop your bound wrists into your lap with a dramatic huff, and roll your head back, staring embarrassed at the ceiling of his trailer. Truthfully, you hadn’t even known where that came from; you’d never called anyone ‘master’ in your entire life, and even mocked the concept. Master and Servant was a Depeche Mode song, not something you practiced in the bedroom.

“I don’t knoow — dungeon master? I don’t know where that came from, I’m — Eddie, please — PLEASE!” Your head snapped back up.

“Hey,” He cooed, brushing your bangs from your eyes. “It’s okay. I liked that. I just couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not.”

Eddie brings his face close to yours, nuzzling his nose against your cheeks. “Lay back for me, sweetheart.”

You do, bound hands resting on your stomach. Eddie shrugs out of his jacket, and pulls his shirt up from behind his back, tossing it onto the floor to join the rest of the clothes. You haven’t seen him shirtless before; the visual has your cunt clenching as your eyes dance over his tattoos, memorizing them.

You watch him with hearts in your eyes as he strolls half-naked over to his stereo, pops in a tape, shuts the door and hits play; the heavy sound of Metallica fills the small room. You smirk. He would. As the song builds, Eddie returns to the edge of the bed, creeping closer, walking his hands on the mattress until he’s close enough to press a kiss to each of your kneecaps. Just like before, he unzips your skirt and peels down your tights, taking his time with the action. Your breath catches in your chest when you feel his calloused fingers ghosting along the outside of your thighs, sweeping along the flesh as it prickles with goosebumps. It’s not cold by any means, but the sensation of his fingers has your skin reacting.

“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes…” he says, admiring the way you look, pantsless but still wearing the Hellfire Club shirt. “God damn… you should be on the cover of an album or something.” He tilts his head, staring for a moment longer before he’s pulling the shirt over your head, and yanking your panties over the wide curve of your hips.

The rest of your clothes join his on the floor of his bedroom, and you’re naked, lying on his stained sheets, writhing in anticipation. Eddie pulls your thighs apart carefully but forcefully, like he’s opening the jaws of a lion. He slots himself underneath your legs, hoisting your thighs onto the curve of his shoulders. As soon as you realize what’s about to transpire, he feels the sudden tension in your body and slides his hands up your waist tenderly.

“Just relax. I know what I’m doing.” His voice is commanding and heavy with desire.

Your eyes roll back in your head, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip; you feel your cunt clench at his lusty tone. You can feel your face flush with heat. Something about him makes you trust him, turn to putty in his grip – in fact, you’ve never trusted a man more in your life. You nod, inhaling a deep breath as he presses a kiss to your cunt. Some of your pathetic, shuddering whines are lost in the heavy guitar and drums of Metallica, which you’re grateful for. The feeling of his lips against her makes your whole body jerk violently, and Eddie’s hands are suddenly pressing down on your hips, holding them tight to the mattress.

“Easy, baby…”

You clench your jaws and shut your eyes, trying to slow your breathing, but that does little to pacify the feelings and how deeply he’s turning you on. His lips hover, his breath washing over her in small, warm gusts before he kisses her again, nuzzling his nose against the soft mound before his tongue slips in between the folds, flicking upwards. Still tied together, all you can do is lift your hands and wad them into tight fists. You could reach forward and push his head further into you, but he’d specifically ordered no touching. You whimper and writhe against the mattress, to which Eddie softly shakes his head against your cunt, muttering a ‘Mm-mm’, and again grips your hips tightly again, holding them in place.

“You like that?”

He swallows hard, before his tongue juts out again, toying with your clit, mercilessly flicking it back and forth and up and down. He encircles the swollen bundle of nerves and hums into your cunt, pleased at the visceral reaction from your body. Even over the music, you can hear the slick, suckling and slurping sounds he’s making, and above all, how wet you are, which is slightly mortifying, considering he’s only just started. Your juices leak onto his mattress, leaving yet another stain on his sheets.

“Words, sweetheart…” He pauses to say. One hand drifts between his legs, where he palms himself over his dark jeans. Eating you out has his cock achingly hard, and he wants nothing more than to sink it into you.

Words? You don’t even know what those are. You can barely form a single word, let alone an entire sentence as his tongue laps at you again, flattening out against your sensitive flesh. It takes you a few tries, but you finally manage to squeak out: “Huhhh- mmm-yeah. Gonna’... gonna’...”

Eddie pulls back slightly, pressing a single slick kiss against your inner thigh. “Yeah? So soon?”

You whimper, nodding. “Mmmh…. So…. so good…”

Bringing his hands underneath your ass, Eddie hoists your hips up, giving him a better angle to suck on your puffy clit. That does it – you’re unable to stop the floodgates. You cry out, bringing your bound hands to your face and pressing the balls of your palms against your mouth, pinching your bottom lip between them. Eddie swallows down your orgasm, bringing the tip of his tongue to your entrance as it squeezes.

As Eddie stands up and wipes the slick from his chin, the song changes, a single reverberating bell rings throughout the room. It brings a smirk to his lips. “For whom the bell tolls…” He says, running a single finger along the length of your quivering thigh. “The bell tolls for you, sweetheart.”

Completely spent, you lift your head weakly, brows peaked together in question. “Wh…what…”

Eddie palms himself again, stroking the swollen shaft through the fabric. His gaze is heavy, sweeping over your naked body as your chest heaves with laboured breaths. His long fingers move quickly, working to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. The jeans fall loose at his hips, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of a lewd outline and a spot where the blue plaid fabric has darkened with pre-cum. He kicks them off and steps out of the circle, smiling at you.

“Nothin’, baby. C’mere.”

Eddie gets onto the bed with one knee first, and walks his way over to you. You turn your head to look at him and heave a shaky sigh as he reaches underneath your torso, twisting you so you’re laying rightways on the bed, your head on a pillow.

“You ready?”

“R-ready for what?” You breathe.

“To have your world rocked, sweetheart.”

“Again?” You coo, looking up at him with big, dreamy eyes.

Eddie hooks his finger around the bandana and twists it around his index finger, tightening the fabric around your wrists. He yanks your hands up over your head, pressing them against the wall above. With his other hand still free, he pulls the waistband of his boxers down over the curve of his ass, allowing his heavy cock free. It slaps against his tummy, bobbing dangerously in front of your core. It occurs to you then how turned on he is over eating your pussy… his cock is leaking and twitching in front of you, begging for release.

Fuck.

At first, Eddie leans down, pressing his cock against your tummy as he kisses you. The kisses are sweet, tender, but passionate with a lingering hint of animalistic demand. He’s being gentle now, but you can feel the unbridled want behind his actions.

“Do it,” you say. “Fuck me.”

Eddie runs his tongue along his bottom lip and grins, taking hold of his cock with his free hand and giving it a few long strokes. A bead of precum oozes from the tip, stringing down to your stomach. He lines the tip up, and a warning pressure builds at your waiting entrance. You clench around the velvet soft head, and Eddie lets out a deep groan.

“Holy shit…” he says.

He tries to be gentle, but as soon as the tip breaches your slick hole and he feels how wet, how warm you are, he can’t help but sink every inch deep into you. He bucks his hips once, forcing his cock deep inside, and halts, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feeling of fullness. You gasp and tighten around him again, pulling a throaty sound from him.

He begins rocking his hips back and forth, his shaft sliding wetly out of you. It doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to find a mind-shattering rhythm that has you gasping and clawing the wall above you. He holds onto your bound wrists still, pinning them tightly against the wall. The power in his thrusts come from his core, bucking relentlessly up into you.

You lift your legs slightly, scooting up and pressing the roundness of your ass against his torso. As he thrusts, his palm presses low into your stomach, rings denting the flesh.

Over the drums and guitar, the slick, hollow slop slop of his cock hammering into you fills the room, and your vision goes blurry as your lids drift shut.

“F-fuck, Eddie… fuck!”

His wanton, concentrating gaze drifts between your legs, watching as he impales you over and over again. You moan loud, much louder than James Hetfield was singing. Eddie shudders and groans, making a deep, almost pained sound.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that? Those moans are gonna’... Jesus Christ.”

You smile devilishly and meet his thrusts, rutting your hips against his. You see him clench his jaw, the muscles fluttering on the side of his face. The feelings are tantalizing him, and each jerk of his hips brings him closer to an orgasm.

“Jesus Christ,” he repeats, looking down at your sweat-glistened body, watching as your breasts rock back and forth with each movement of his hips. You strain against his grip, wanting so desperately to touch him.

“Master,” you whimper. “Let me touch your body… please….”

The singular word makes his cock twitch inside you. His other hand joins the right, and quickly undoes the knot of his bandana, tossing it behind him. Your greedy fingers immediately snap to his torso, clawing their way up his toned abdomen. Your digits trail over his tattoos, tracing them absentmindedly as Eddie keeps fucking into you, his jaw hanging slack, expression completely blissed out.

“Harder, Eddie,” you moan, pressing your head back into the pillow.

He obeys. Happily. He takes hold of your thighs, pressing them back against your body, exposing more of your cunt to him. His cock leaves you for a moment before he’s slamming back into you, heated and heavily.

It doesn’t take him long to reach a climax at this angle, or for you to reach your second one. You scream out, clawing at his abs as you clench around his dick, squeezing it in a vice-tight grip.

“Shit-shit-shit—” Eddie curses, looking down at your pussy. You feel the swelling throb of Eddie’s cock inside you as he paints you insides white. Your own orgasm has you shuddering against him, crying out his name.

Eddie collapses atop of you, his cock still inside, and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” you echo. “Yeah. It was.”

After a few minutes, you turn your head, and press a single kiss against his plump lips. “Soooo, can I sit at your table now? I’m tired of sitting at Jason’s preppy table.”

“Absolutely.”

#praying that this lives up to the first part lmao #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #myfics

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mondaymelon · 8 months

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₊⊹ 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞! | genshin males x gn!reader

「 "𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!"」

— in which you give him chocolates before he attempts to give you his??

— fluff. highschool!au but built like a shoujo manga lmao ... happy valentine's day ~ ♡ another fic will be going out tomorrow :)

THOMA, albedo, ayato, alhaitham, childe, KAVEH, HEIZOU, VENTI, GAMING, CHONGYUN, KAZUHA, wriothesley, tighnari, freminet, lyney ♡

Calling yourself a "romantic" person would be quite a stretch.

Saying Valentine's was your favorite day of the year would be even worse.

Sure, sure, you'd heard plenty of things, from the nagging old man manning the grocery store, always red in the face from regular swigs of cheap liquor, or the seemingly never endless musings from your classmates, swooning and fainting every moment anyone, or more specifically, the leads starring in those dramas of theirs, did anything remotely affectionate.

Young, innocent love, while a splendid thing, for someone like you, your really only option was to endlessly pine after someone who would certainly not return your affections.

The recipient of such foolish affections? That much was obvious. What a rather hopeless person, you were.

At the very least, he seemed to enjoy your presence. A smile would adorn his lips, and he'd always meet your gaze with his familiar greeting of, "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Fuck, you hated how such a simple line, questioning of your wellbeing, could tug at your heartstrings so effortlessly. The man was playing you like a fiddle, and a part of you didn't try to resist that.

So the moment February 14th rolled itself around, bearing promises of youthful laughter, baby cupids, hearts, and sweets, you tried not to pay heed to the extra weight of chocolates in your school bag.

Had you stayed up late making them just the right sweetness, making sure they were perfectly heart-shaped?

Yes. As stated previously, you were truly hopeless.

"Ah, good morning." Wow, look at you, taking the initiative to greet someone? Truly, a day of magic and wonder! You're almost jump scared at the sight of him in your classroom, just what the fuck was he doing here? He leaned against the doorway, looking terribly pretty in the morning lighting.

This was not doing wonders to your heart.

Upon seeing you, he straightened his posture, looking suspiciously sheepish with an extra non-characteristic, flusteredness on his features. "You're here early today."

"It's Valentine's." That's all you managed to sputter out with that tied tongue of yours.

"Yes, and?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, not entirely convinced, and followed you to your seat like some sort of lost puppy.

Your brain raced to find a rationale he'd deem reasonable. "Uhm, ah... my friend... is planning to confess to a guy, so I had to come early and help her... set up the place she's planning to do so at?"

"I see... ah," His eyes lit up like he had thought of something. "Are you free after school? We should meet up afterward, so you can tell me how it went...?"

"Yes!" You responded a little too quickly, and cussing yourself out in you head, you corrected it. "Ahem- yes, I'd like that." The burning feeling that arose on your face was starting to become too prominent to ignore.

He didn't seem to pay it any mind, and instead beamed in a close-eyed smile. "Perfect. Then, I'll see you?" You were to bid him goodbye, but he ran off before you could even utter a sound, leaving you rather dumbfounded, blank-faced and still feeling the tingling warmth on your cheeks.

Holy shit, is this my chance?? You’d made chocolates on the eensiest, weensiest off chance that you might grow bold enough to hand it to him, even if under the pretense of “as friends”, but with the violent way your heart was pounding in your chest, you didn’t think avoidance would be an option.

Ahaha, you were making a mistake, weren’t you?

Only one way to find out.

The rest of the day went by as predicted. Fanatic screams and a wave of crazed people chasing after the more popular figures of the school, throwing boxes of chocolates and bouquets of roses... hey, wasn't this a safety hazard? There were other screams too - but not of excitement, but terror as a man was crushed and trampled under a wave of love-sick girls chasing after the popular boy in class 2-A.

You just hoped that he wouldn't sue the school. The place was already cutting enough corners when it came to the monstrosity of cafeteria food.

The bell rang, signaling your freedom, and you massaged your shoulders with a sigh. You'd survived, somehow. As you stepped out the door, a ding from your phone alerted you with a text, and as you lit up the screen, the corner of your lips unconsciously turned upwards into a soft smile.

hot guy <3 - don't forget.

hot guy <3 - ill be waiting for you

Stepping into his classroom, you scanned your surroundings for the familiar sight of the man. Low and behold, there he was, sat upon, presumably, his desk, and staring out the window like some main character. You walked over, trying your best to disregard the clamminess of your fingers - or more specifically, the hand that was holding your homemade chocolates hidden safely(?) away behind your back. His features brightened at the sight of you, and he swung his legs, ushering you over to share the view with him.

"Sorry, did you wait long?" You sheepishly grinned as he scooted to the side to give you space to sit down next to him. As you did so, you were made painfully aware of how his body was still pressed up against yours. “I almost got trampled on my way here, not a pretty sight.”

“...Pretty sight?” He echoed his words, tilting his head as he pondered, the slightest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. “You?”

“W-What? No, I-” You cleared your throat before he could say another word, trying to dispel the blush on your features. Naturally, you failed to do so. “What kind of things are you saying now? Just who’d you learn that from?”

“Haa? What do you mean, learned? I just said the truth, that’s all…”

God, he was so adorable. This man had definitely run off with your heart.

Now or never, you supposed. Standing upwards abruptly, you pulled out the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’d been hiding behind your back the entire time, visibly trembling as you held it outwards.

“Will you be my valentine?”

It took him the count of three to respond, his eyes round and doe-like. He blinked rapidly, and then his cheeks flushed - not with his usual cheeriness, but a red that definitely spoke of flusteredness. “H-Hey, that's no fair…”

“...What?” Damn, was this your rejection? You had expected as much, but-

“I was supposed to give you chocolates first, y’know…”

And just like that, the familiar boy before you reached beside him into the darkly lit space and pulled out his own box of chocolates, lightly colored and wrapped beautifully in shimmering golden ribbon. “It took me so long to do this, and yet…”

“Holyfuckingshitwhat.” The curses flew from your mouth, condensed into a single word. “W- H- Y-You… You got chocolates for me?”

Now this was a first. Seeing his cheeks and tips of his ears all rosy, and seeing him all kicked-puppy-like. He nodded slowly, “Mhm… But, this is good too!”

He likes me.

Hoooooly shit.

“Ah, oh no, I didn’t give you an answer, did I?” His usually soft eyes now filled with panic. “Don't tell me I'm too late, I’ll be your valentine!”

The chocolates, surely, would be sweet. But the sensation of your lips meeting his, the undeniable warmth he bestowed upon you — it was sweeter than anything. ♡

(a/n) lmao guess what. i got sick again. i was sick last month and i mfucking sick and dying again and the only thing saving me is shitty couhg medicine that doesn't even work and like expired coughdrops my couhgdrop supply is running low and oh god i don't THINK IM GOINNA MAKE IT-

hahah anyways remember when i said id come back. well . guess what. ive been working on original works for a while now, but the delulu has indeed returned ( for longer than a week this time, hopefully )

i did work on some stuff during my inactivity! the post will probably be out tomorrow, but please don't be upset if i push the date back :)

anyways whipped up this quick drabble so all of you could be well fed on valentines. remember that its okay to be single on this day, and that there are plenty of other people out there like you. there is no shame in being single, and i love every one of you ! mwah <33

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori

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xxsabitoxx · 9 months

Text

Fushiguro Megumi hates it when you get injured.

Something about it, no matter how big or small the injury is, just gets under his skin and pisses him off. Which comes off has him being mad at you, unfortunately. It’s not his intention, fuck no, he’s just so upset it happened in the first place.

It’s not till you get injured bad that you realize he’s not mad at you, rather, he’s mad at himself. There is a lingering guilt in Megumi’s eyes when you get hurt, as if he failed you.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” You had questioned late one night, laying in an infirmary bed with an IV in your arm because Shoko’s technique and the curse’s attack were not working well together. Meaning you were on strict bed rest until you were fully healed. Megumi hated that too, of course.

He didn’t answer, instead he flipped the page of his book with pursed lips. “I’m talking to you, Meg. It’s rude to ignore.” That got to him, closing his book slowly as he dragged his eyes up the bed to look at you. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

You repeated your previous statement, knowing he heard you the first time but he wouldn’t answer unless you asked again. “Yeah.” His tone was low, not convincing whatever. “Liar.” You shot back, moving your arm to rub your tired eyes.

Megumi watched the tube move with you, the dark liquid slowly dripping from the bag down the line and into your veins. “I’m not lying.” He nearly spat, anger bubbling in his gut at the sight of the retched medical machinery you were hooked too.

You sighed, “I’m sorry for getting hurt. I know it’s frustrating and all but li-“ but Megumi was cutting you off with a near incredulous look. “What?” Was all he said, leaving you to blink at him as you tried to wrap your head around his confusion.

“Y-you’re mad cause I’m careless, right? Because I keep weighing you down by getting myself injured?” You stated this as if it were factual, watching Megumi’s face morph into one of genuine bewilderment and mild offense.

“No?! What the fuck makes you think that?!”

"Because... you don't talk to me for like three days after the fact?" Megumi couldn't exactly fight you on that. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it really did come off that way. "I...shit no that's not..." he tossed his book on your bed, hands coming up to rub his face as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not mad at you. I've never once been mad at you for getting injured. I just..." he sighed, turning to look at you now "...I just get frustrated with myself. I don't like seeing you hurt, it makes me feel like I didn't do enough. Then, I sit here promising myself to do better for you the next time we go out on a mission together, and then we end up right back here. With you in a hospital bed."

Megumi's face had turned a shade of pink. He always felt fidgety having these kinds of conversations. Especially with you, especially about his feelings. "Oh..." you started, mulling over his words carefully before sighing. "You can't beat yourself up over this stuff, Megumi. It's my life and my choice to be a sorcerer. Getting hurt is part of the job." You watched him shift in his chair.

"I know it's part of the job. I just don't like seeing you get hurt. Especially when I'm supposed to be supporting you. We're supposed to look out for each other on these missions and I keep failing you." Megumi's eyes darted anywhere around the room, hands folding neatly as he tried not to seem nervous.

"Megumi." You stated it bluntly, praying he'd look up. He did, of course, he did. For some reason, he couldn't deny you when you said his name like that. "C'mere." you whispered, motioning him to sit on the edge of your bed. He listened, getting up to move the small distance and trying his best to keep you stable as the bed dipped.

"You can't go on with your life quietly beating yourself up for things that are out of your control... and mine for that matter." Your hand carefully reaches up to touch his cheek, smiling at the warmth burning under your fingertips. Megumi looks at you, head-turning reluctantly. "I love you too much to let you feel guilty."

Quiet. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The look on Megumi's face was utterly priceless. Pure disbelief. No way he heard you correctly. His tired mind and sore back must be playing tricks on him. "You... what?" He croaked, brows furrowing in denial. You smile, huffing out a laugh. "I said I love you, Megumi."

He wasn't sure how to act in that moment. Every word he could think of was fizzling out before it could reach his mouth. Instead of killing himself trying to respond verbally, Megumi did the only thing he could think of. A surprised squeak left you as his lips pressed against yours, hands shaking as they gingerly cupped your cheeks.

The kiss itself lasted maybe twenty seconds, leaving you a little breathless from being unprepared as he pulled away. "I... guess that means you love me too?" you teased him, a grin on your face. Softly, Megumi huffed out a laugh before responding.

"Yeah, it means I love you too."

Started this a few days ago and didn’t even realize it was Megumi’s birthday today! So, happy birthday, Meg :)

Hope you enjoyed! - May

#banner from cafekitsune #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujustu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #jjk imagines #megumi imagine #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi fluff #fushiguro megumi fluff #happy birthday Megumi :)

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auroralwriting · 3 months

Note

Consider: Bucky thinking he’s misplaced his dog tags, only to find that the reader’s been holding them hostage/wearing them because he’s (accidentally) ignoring her, and the reader knows this was the best way to ensure she finally gets his attention

attention

avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!reader (after tfatws)

bucky's been ignoring you, and you know how to get his attention.

word count: 1.5k | warnings: light angst but overall fluff

Bucky had never been one to keep too busy. He liked things low key, relaxed, casual. Even while Sam, himself, and you were reforming the Avengers, he always made time for you, his best friend.

Deep down, though, you knew you both weren't just friends. Late nights drinking beer and dancing were enough to tell you that you both were more than just friends. It seemed like Bucky knew it too, seeing as he refused to go on any dates Sam tried to set up or even download Tinder, which he wouldn't have done anyways.

After a long, hard few months of trying to find funding, Clint had suggested Kate Bishop, his somewhat protege, who happened to be rich as fuck as you'd later find out. After seeing her skills, you knew she was perfect for the team.

Kate was quick to suggest Yelena, who took a week and a half longer than Kate to convince, meaning it took her a week and a half to say yes after what she called, 'obsessive behavior' of finding her and begging her to join.

Now, the Avengers were back, and slowly becoming better. Sam was busy working out arrangements with the government while Kate bought the necessary equipment for you all. Yelena was focused on making the best uniforms for you all (filled with many pockets), and Bucky was focused on finding leads to focus on. You, on the other hand, handled the press that was looming over you all.

Even with all of that, Bucky made time for you. However, it was becoming apparent he was finding excuses to not see you.

It began with the excuses that he was busy with leads.

"Buck!" You called in a sing-song voice as you walked in the room he was sat in. "I just bought us a twelve pack, and I think Star Wars is calling our names." You smiled as you walked up next to him.

He barely even looked up from his computer screen, "I can't tonight. I think I have a lead and I need to focus before it goes off-grid."

Okay, that seemed totally reasonable. "Oh, of course. Maybe tomorrow," You smiled.

"Maybe," Bucky said, voice so nonchalant you weren't sure if he had even registered your voice. So, you said a soft goodbye and left the room, feeling confused and awkward.

The next time it happened, it was four days later. Bucky was sat on the computer again when you approached. "Hey Bucky, I was wondering if you wanted to take a nighttime drive on your Harley? It's been a while since we've ridden."

"Outta gas," Bucky's voice was monotone as he replied. "Some other time."

Immediately, it felt like a punch to the gut, which you've felt more than once and this one hurt worse. "Oh, yeah." You muttered as you walked away.

That night, you contemplated everything that had been happening. What had you done to upset Bucky to the point of avoiding you? There had to be some reasonable explanation to this, right? The only way to find out for sure was to get Bucky to actually speak to you again.

When the morning came, you woke up extra early. Bucky was an early riser. You weren't sure if that was from his time in the military or Hydra. You made your way to his room where he was absent. It took just a moment to see the steam leaking from under his bathroom door for you to figure out he was showering. As you looked around his room, you looked at the table next to his bed and saw your target: his dog tags.

Bucky never did anything without those on. They were a part of him, and you'd never even seen him without them on. Maybe it was a bit too invasive, but it felt like the only solid way to get Bucky to speak to you.

You carefully walked up to his nightstand and grabbed the tags, looping them around your neck and tucking them under your shirt. The metal was cold on your sternum, and you had to wonder if the coolness of the tags reminded Bucky of his arm.

The thought was quickly thrown to the side as the noise of running water disappeared. You quickly made your way out of his room, making sure to be extra silent due to his super soldier hearing. You shut the door as quietly as you could and made your way to your room where you collapsed on your bed, the adrenaline of it all making you feel out of breath.

You looked at the clock, six forty-three. The time began now to see how long it took for Bucky to realize you were the thief of his dog tags.

Bucky felt the panic rise on his chest when he saw that his dog tags were not on his nightstand where he left them after getting up. He had the same routine: wake up, take off his tags, and shower.

He searched all around the area to see if they fell. No luck. Bucky felt stumped about where they could be.

There was no way they could've fallen off at any point yesterday. Sam and him spent the evening sparring, and he would've told Bucky if he'd seen the tags laying around. Plus, Bucky remembered taking them off when he woke up.

So where could they possibly be?

They couldn't have broken and fallen off without him noticing, right? They were tags from the forties, there was a chance they just didn't withstand the test of time. Bucky always knew they were on him, though. Those tags were almost a part of his body. He would have felt if they weren't on.

Then, it hit him. The only person who knew just how much they meant to Bucky was you. Was there any way you had taken them?

Bucky quickly made his way to your room, knocking on the door a little bit harsher than he intended too. He looked at the clock that was hung on the wall next to him, it was seven o'eight. There was no chance you were awake.

The door opened slowly and a very anxious looking you. All Bucky could see was just your head, the rest of your body was hidden behind the door.

"Well, look who's come to see me." You said in a flat tone.

Bucky sighed, "I'm sorry, I've been busy. Have you seen my tags?"

His abruptness made you flash your eyebrows upward. "Your dog tags?"

"The only tags I wear," Bucky sighed, growing more frustrated by the situation as the second hand on the clock ticked. It was then that Bucky spotted a flash of silver from the small part of your neck. He pushed the door open further and was able to spot the chain just peaking out from your shirt.

Before Bucky got a chance to say anything, your eyes became watery. A small sense of newfound panic coursed through Bucky's veins. "You kept blowing me off," Your voice sounded small and fragile as you admitted your feelings to Bucky.

"Doll, you know I didn't mean too." Bucky sighed as you sat down on your bed. He was quick to follow, sitting thigh to thigh with you.

"But you were so mean," Bucky didn't think he could feel his heart break more until he heard you small voice call him mean. You were right, he was being mean, but it wasn't on purpose.

Bucky set his hand over your own, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "M' sorry, Doll. I didn't mean to be mean." Bucky sighed, his head hanging in a sense of shame. He'd never meant to hurt you.

"Why?" You asked in reply, looking at him with confusion.

Bucky stuttered over his words for a moment, taking a breath to calm himself. "I realized that my feelings for you aren't just.."

"Friendly?" You offered. Bucky's eyes flashed to your face, surprise taking over his features. He didn't know you also realized it, too.

"Yeah, that." Bucky nodded. "And I got scared." Bucky sighed, his metal hand rubbing over his face as he took a shaky breath. "I never expected myself to feel this way about someone, especially someone so good."

You felt your heart melt at Bucky's words. "Buck," You mumbled, flipping over the hand that was over yours so your fingers intertwined.

"I never meant to hurt you, doll." Bucky reiterated, looking at you with a gentle care. "Please, forgive me."

"Only if you forgive me for taking these," You replied, hand slipping from his so you could take off his tags.

You set them in his hand as he stared at them. "You know exactly what to do to get my attention, huh?" His next move surprised you, his hands going behind your head as you felt the coolness of the chain relaxing around your neck once more.

"Bucky, no. I can't-"

"I want you too," Bucky urged, staring deep into your eyes. "They're yours. I'm yours."

You felt your heart warm at his words. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, doll." Bucky replied, a soft smile playing his lips as you enclosed your fist around the tags.

"I'll guard them with my life," You promised.

Bucky exhaled, "I know you will."

#bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you

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