#My hands tremble Idk how you do it but you capture every one of your muses essence first try | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellsbclls · 3 years

Note

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there???

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut.

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh, enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well.

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub,

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader blurb #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #something about this man fucking the bad day out of you 🥰#what a gentleman #ANOTHER 3K DOOZY??????#WHA T TH E FUCK???#mine*

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jimlingss · 3 years

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It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck.

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes.

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest.

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars.

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot—

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!”

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken.

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt.

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain.

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!”

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes.

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features.

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!”

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast.

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time.

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long.

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get.

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power.

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe.

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him!

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung reader insert #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfiction #LET'S GOOOO

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moo-moo-meadows · 3 years

Note

Spare Georgebur royal au please? I really like your au and feel like it's been years since I read about it!!

anon i am on my hands and knees for you,, oh my god. idk every time i talk about my georgebur royalty au i always feel like the only clown in the whole circus so it really means so much that you enjoy it, so much so to seek it out omgfhgdf i’m crying thank you. this one’s for you anon i put my heart and soul in it, as i always seem to do when it comes to this AU lmao don't tell the others i have favorites x

send prompts pspspsp

“You love me,” his voice is so soft Wilbur nearly thinks he imagined it, a mere little thought wondered, pondered out loud. It’s clear to Wilbur that it was not something he was meant to hear, but he responds anyway.

“You say that as if it is hard to believe.” Wilbur reaches over to tuck a piece of George’s hair behind his ear, fingers grazing against the jewel attached to his lobe. An icy teardrop, a tiny thing in the grand scheme of things, and yet it still makes Wilbur’s heart swell due to what it represents. “Are you not as beloved here, as I am in my kingdom?” George turns his head, letting Wilbur’s touch stray against the warmth of his cheek, and smiles quietly at him.

“Maybe it’s because it’s me, and you.” An echo of a former conversation that makes Wilbur’s smile turn even more honeyed, and this time he finds that he doesn’t quite hate the term nearly as much.

“You’ve not said it back,” he remarks, his tone making it clear that he’s only teasing. Though Wilbur’s strength lies with his words, he does not need them to feel secure. Not when he already knows that his feelings are reciprocated, if only from the way that George brandishes his earring so proudly and only ever seems to smile and laugh and blush as much as he does when he’s around him.

Their moonlit garden seems even more lovely in the reflection of George’s dual-colored eyes as he smiles wider, tilting his head further into Wilbur’s touch, and he once again is reminded of a cat due to his lover’s antics. “Won’t you rather me say I’m yours?”

“No,” is his pensive reply after not even a beat.

George quirks an eyebrow. “No?”

“You don’t have to be mine, though I’ll have you if that’s what you wish. What I want is your love, not you necessarily.” Wilbur captures George’s lips in his, who softly sighs into the kiss. Part fondly and part exasperatedly.

“Must you always out romance me at a time like this?”

“Well, won’t you humor me and say it? Why are you so shy?” George turns back to gaze at the roses, leaning his body into Wilbur’s side and therefore his warmth.

“My family never did any of that ‘love is weakness’ bullshit,” Wilbur raises his eyebrows at the sudden vulgarness of his words, but stays silent as George continues, “but they’ve always equated vulnerability to weakness, and I know love makes even the strongest men vulnerable. It’s hard to unlearn something that I’ve been taught since before I could even walk,” he pauses, a breath.

“But I think I’d like to try if it’s with you.”

(“you are the first person to make me speechless” :handshake: “you make me feel like it’s safe to be vulnerable” georgebur in my royalty au making me want to throw up /pos)

“Careful, dove,” Wilbur murmurs. He must be drunk on moonlight and their time spent together; he doesn’t even realize that the words had escaped his mouth until George turned towards him.

“Dove?” George questions, pulling Wilbur’s hand away from where it covered his mouth as though he could take the words back. “What is that? Not ‘love’?” He tilts his head and Wilbur pretends as though the word in the sense of a term of endearment in George’s voice doesn’t make his heart stutter. Most things, in that sense, make his weak heart tremble, but Wilbur is but a weak man himself when it comes to his lover.

“It’s nothing. Forget it, please.” A sliver of desperation to cover up his mistake. He doesn’t even realize, once again, how his words seem to mirror something from a past conversation that flickers almost dangerously across George’s face.

“We know what happened the last time you told me to forget about something,” George says remorselessly, in both a forgiving and unforgiving way that makes Wilbur wince the tiniest bit. “Don’t we, dove?” He leans towards Wilbur with a curious ‘I won’t let this go’ kind of expression, repeating the word mockingly to show Wilbur that he won’t just forget it this time. Not that he did any other time.

“It’s-it’s something my parents would call each other, sometimes. I’m sorry. It just-it slipped out.” The vulnerability that comes with admittance makes Wilbur almost want to shrivel up. The underlying meaning behind ‘it slipped out,’ the idea that at Wilbur’s most honest self, he mirrors the way his parents act is, to put simply, embarrassing. Wilbur thought that he was past embarrassment at this point.

George’s eyes soften. More like, his whole expression both melts and brightens, eyes flickering with a hint of shyness that seems to bubble and bubble until he turns away, looking back to where he had been looking before. “Don’t apologize for something like that,” he coughs, bashful. The hand that’s holding Wilbur’s tightens.

(woahh george pov moment!! not sure how i feel about this one. honestly i don't know how i feel about his character as a whole in the fic but I'm trying it out a little and what better to test it out than to write bits and bobs of george's pov of their first meeting?))

“Look, George. All those sparkling lights in the sky are the twin gods’ tears blessing you, and our land.” George cannot remember his mother’s face. No amount of portraits scattered across the castle nor remarks that he and his sister carry her countenance well would ever amount to the gentleness in his mother’s expression that he fights every single day to remember and hold on to til his hands are balled into fists and shaking. He cannot remember her face, but he remembers the sweetness of her voice and her gentle touch on his head as he cranes his head up to look at the blanket of stars that seemed so unfathomable to him, only a child’s mind at the time.

Every time he looks at those same stars, he wishes he had looked longer at his mother instead. What was her expression on that night? Had she known her fate? George does not often lie, but he will admit now that to him, it is not the twin gods’ tears that stain the night on this supposed momentous day.

Frankly, he’s not sure why he said such a thing to the boy with the beautiful starstruck eyes, nor does he know why he’d asked him to stay when normally he’d force him to leave. Maybe it’s because his eyes, if George could go back in time to see his child self, must be the same as his that night. Maybe it’s because of ‘fate,’ as his mother might say if she were still-

If she were still-

Maybe he had been desperate for a distraction. Not from the celebrations, all meticulously prepared, all meant for him when all he wanted to do was count stars til his vision was too blurry to differentiate constellations from each other, and all else that was happening just beyond the closed doors to the balcony they were in. And maybe it was fate after all, though there was something in George that somehow knew that this stranger would be the only one to humor him when he asked to pretend. Pretend. As though foregoing his name and his title and abandoning his claim to this land and the stars above would make everything that happened on this terrible momentous day only a lie and not something that George will have to live with for all his life.

Well, it works. The twin gods must truly favor George, or perhaps they pity him, perhaps they are apologizing and perhaps George simply chose well. The kind and beautiful stranger told the most vivid and alluring tales and spun life with his voice both in speech and in song and George did not forget. How could he, when he knew too well what those icy blue eyes represent? But maybe, he allowed himself reprieve; he laughed harder than he’d had in years and smiled, genuinely, eyes creasing and heart both heavy and oh so light, and for that night that was more than enough.

He laces their pinkies together on top of the pavilion his mother loved. The stranger takes the rest of his hand and George would only find the gentleness to be half-familiar and remember it for years to come.

#mm.asks #anon.user #georgebur royalty au #georgebur #mm.writes #momoo's new favorite word? reprieve #idk why it just #its been showing up in a lot of my drabbles recently LMAO #the last bit is wack. definitely a bit wack so just ignore it if you want but I'm trying things out #i always find it a little weird when romance manhwas n shit are just a tad TOO comfortable with the love interest compares their s/o to #their parent #like freud is literally rolling in his grave cackling rn #so i dont wanna do that #anyway!! yeah! more georgebur royalty au woohoo

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waithyuck · 4 years

Text

best friends give each other head (?)

pairing: lee donghyuck/haechan x reader (f)

genre: smut and there’s barely a plot lmao, no backstory no nothin

word count: 3.4k

warnings: female reader, oral sex (m & f receiving), swearing/explicit language, unprotected sex, best friend!hyuck, best friends to ???? idk man, hyuck is soft but also cocky so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, also ig dom!hyuck sorry for all you sub!hyuck enthusiasts out there I’ll write one for ya eventually

a/n: Ik this trope has been done a lot but this is for raya ( @gohyuck ) bc we’re both thirsty hoes,,,,,also I’ve never actually ever sucked a dick so like sorry for any inaccuracies 😬 I was excited ab this so it isn’t proof read sorry in advance lmao

——

“would you teach me how to suck a dick if I gave you 20 bucks?” you blurted out, your face already feeling hot as you stood at the kitchen counter with your best friend, lee donghyuck. he immediately froze, his hands completely ceasing as he slowly lowers the knife he was using to spread cream cheese on his bagel. you bit your lip anxiously, taking a small step back when his head ever so slowly turned in your direction, his eyes meeting your gaze.

“you–I–what??” he questioned exasperated, a dusty pink hue gracing his cheeks as his eyes practically bulged out of their sockets. you both stared at each other, his mouth agape as you tried to calm your racing heart enough so that you could speak.

“look, I’ve never sucked a dick before and I want to learn—“

“you want to suck my dick?” he cut you off, dropping the knife onto the counter with a loud clatter. he looked at you like you were insane, which didn’t help your already unconfident demeanor. you sighed, your hand going up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“No–well yes, I guess.” you pondered over the idea, “I just want to learn in case future adventures with dudes come into play!” you tried to explain, your arms now wildly gesticulating in the air giving away how nervous you actually were. that, and how your voice was coming out extra pitchy and how your words jumbled together as you spoke too quickly gave him insight into how you actually felt in the moment.

he stepped a little closer to you, his eyes narrowing and looking at you up and down in a scrutinizing way. you gulped as he watched you, your hands wringing together. he hummed deeply, the noise coming from within his chest making your legs instinctively squeeze together. you cursed yourself in that moment, screaming at yourself internally for finding your best friend attractive.

“so you’ve really never given anyone a blowjob?” hyuck asked, his head tilting to the side causing his hair to fall over his eyes. “that’s kinda surprising.”

your eyes widened, your cheeks on fire as your jaw dropped to the floor. “I mean,” he continued, his hand coming up to press his thumb against your bottom lip, trailing it across the flesh as you screamed internally. “you’re so pretty, I assumed guys were just dying to shove their cocks down your throat.” he chuckled to himself at the way you were reacting, taking pride in how much you were affected by the smallest touches.

you stood there shocked for a second, allowing his touch to poison your mind. after a minute you finally snapped yourself out of it, shoving his arm away from you and then pushing his shoulders back in anger.

“stop fucking with me, lee donghyuck.” you seethed, embarrassed and agitated. “just say no if you don’t want to.” you rolled your eyes at him and made your way to step around him to leave and hide in your room, but before you could get far his hand caught your waist and pulled you back.

“I’m not saying no,” he murmured lowly, his arms wrapping fully around you and pulling your back to rest up against his front. “it’s not everyday that my beautiful best friend offers to suck me off.”

your hand clutched his forearm shakily as he whispered in your ear, his words barely registering in your brain. nerves were flowing through your veins, causing your fingers to feel cold and your bones to chill. you didn’t reply, as you didn’t trust you voice to come out as steady as you would like. he obviously caught on to your nervousness, laughing lowly in your ear.

“what happened to all that confidence you had, y/n?” he teased, kissing the skin right below your ear. “is a couple of lewd words all it takes to get you flustered?”

you sputtered at his words, failing to find the right things to say in reply. what were you even supposed to say to that anyway? if you lied and told him no, he would definitely call your bluff, as it was pretty obvious how much you were affected. if you told him yes, you would probably feel further embarrassed and just want to dive down into a deep hole and never come back out.

you stared blankly down at the floor below you, your lip trembling as you let your tongue out to trail across them. hyuck suddenly let go of you, moving away and walking out of the kitchen to situate himself on the sofa located in the living room. you absentmindedly followed him, your feet shuffling slowly to a stop as you watched him from the doorway. he sat down heavily, spreading his long legs wide. the gray sweatpants he wore had you practically drooling, and you brought a hand up to your lips just to make sure you weren’t.

he turned his head to look at you, hid eyes hooded and he lazily pointed to the spot on the floor between his legs.

“come here.” he demanded, the deep tone of his voice causing your knees to weaken. you hobbled over to him on shaky legs, reaching your destination and lowering yourself to your knees between his thighs. he watched your every move like a predator, a look you have never seen in the years you have been friends with donghyuck. you shivered, a tingly pleasurable feeling running up your spine caused by his hungry and wandering eyes.

when your knees finally touched the carpeted floor, hyuck leaned forward, his fingers gently capturing your chin and forcing you to look at him. his eyes bore into yours before you watched them trail down your face to settle on your slightly parted lips. you watched him with doe eyes, looking innocent while in such a compromised position.

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this, y/n?” he asked you sincerely, his eyes never leaving your lips. you only nodded before breaking out of his hold, leaning up to grip the band of his sweatpants. he allowed you to pull them down and off of him, his body leaning back and his hips lifting up to make it easier for you.

you were surprised to see that he had no boxers on, the heat inside you ever growing at the sight of his pretty cock. he smirked down at you, his hand reaching down to stroke himself for you.

“w-wait, I wanna do it,” you stuttered, your hands moving to slap his own away. he hummed at you, watching as your fingers wrapped around him and began shyly working him up and down. hyuck cursed at the feeling of your warm hand around him, causing your confidence to build. you rubbed him a little faster, your grip growing a little tighter as you went on, his low groans spurring you on.

in no time at all he was completely hard, his cock standing proud in your hold. your mouth watered at the sight, and you wanted to dive in as soon as possible. you licked your lips anxiously, looking up at him for further instructions. he smiled down at you, his hand coming to rest on the top of your head. “Relax” he murmured, “just put your mouth on it and go with the flow.”

“wow hyuck, you’re such a great teacher.” you commented sarcastically, rolling your eyes. you weren’t expecting his hand to move down to lightly slap your cheek, and you squeaked at the suddenness of it.

“better check that attitude, baby,” his hand went back to your head, this time guiding you toward his dick with slight force. “you asked for this, remember?” you let your lips brush against his head, trying to think of everything you’ve read about blowjobs in the past. “I never said i was a good teacher.” after that comment he finally shut up, allowing you to collect your thoughts and press soft kisses up and down his length.

you didn’t tease for too long, recalling something you read about some people not liking it very much, and finally started suckling on the head of his cock. his head fell back against the couch, his hair splaying out every which way beautifully behind him.

you looked up at him, his eyes hooded as they peered down at you, your mouth finally opening to take in his cock, carefully, you made sure not to use your teeth, and you took as much as you could into your mouth, only stopping when your throat protested. your throat constricted slightly and his hips bucked into your mouth, causing his cockhead to ram itself down your throat and you gagged violently. you pulled back a little, tears springing to your eyes as your throat burned, your sputtering causing hyuck to pull you off of him completely.

‘fuck, I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” he spoke softly, his thumb coming up to wipe your stray tears away. you tried to ignore the name he called you, but you felt your heart jump not matter how hard you tried to will it not to. drool was already running down your chin and you were sure you looked pathetic sitting there on your knees in front of him, not being able to take his cock. “are you okay?”

you nodded, just then noticing the sudden ache in your core. it wasn’t there until he rammed his cock into your throat, which made you slightly nervous at the insinuation that you enjoyed choking on him.

he gently stroked your cheek, watching you carefully as you got your breathing back to normal. determined, you fixed your posture and pushed his hand off your face, moving to take his dick into your mouth once again. he didn’t stop you, allowing you to take him into your throat. you made sure you relaxed your muscles this time, breathing evenly through your nose as you began to bob your head. you felt the sudden presence of both of his hands finding your head, lightly caressing you as you blew him. from the sounds you could hear coming from deep within his chest, you could infer that you were doing a pretty good job so far.

“oh god, so good baby,” he moaned out, spurring you on to go a little faster and take him a litter deeper. “fuck! are you sure you’ve never done this before?” he questioned, his voice coming out breathy as he whined in pleasure. you just kept looking at him, your eyes glassy with tears as you forced him down your throat, being careful not to gag around the thickness of him.

he kept whining, his voice raising a few octaves when you experimentally kneaded his balls, and before you could go any further he shoved your head away, his cock falling from your mouth and causing a mess of spit to spill past your lips. looking up at him with a curious look, you wiped your mouth with the back of you hand.

“what the hell? I wanna make you cum!” you whined, embarrassed at the sound of your own confession. he was breathing heavily, his cock angry and flushed red, desperate to cum.

“I wanna taste you first,” he blurted, his hands already reaching to grip your arms and pull you up off of your knees. he shifted so that you could lay on your back on the cushions, and he pushed you down almost aggressively. you yelped, but didn’t fight him as he laid you down the way he wanted to. “...please?”

and how could you say no to him when he asked so very nicely? you let a small “okay” slip out of your mouth, your arms coming up to cover your face as he worked on getting your shorts and panties off. you peeked to see that he was now completely naked, his shirt discarded somewhere across the room.

donghyuck spread you thighs apart and was pleasantly surprised to see how wet you were already, smirking to himself at how much you were affected when you were sucking his cock. you whimpered embarrassingly as he stared at your soaked pussy, hunger present in his eyes as he licked his lips. he hands pinned your thighs down as he dove in earnestly, not wasting any time.

his tongue dipped into your hole before licking a stripe up your slit, brushing along your clit and causing your stomach muscles to spasm. he worked your clit with his mouth, licking and sucking like it was his job.

you squirmed in his hold, your little noises of pleasure reaching his ears and egging him on, determined to make you cum as hard as you could.

your hands flew to his long light brown locks, fisting them and tugging when he nipped your sensitive bud. he groaned at the painful pleasure caused by your pulling, his cock twitching in response. you were biting your lip, definitely causing permanent indentations with how hard you were holding it between your teeth. you couldn’t hold back your sounds, loud moans filling the air as his ministrations brought you closer and closer to release. you never thought about it before, but you never would have guessed hyuck was this good at eating pussy.

he slowly inserted two fingers into your core, causing your walls to experimentally clench. you practically yelled out at the added sensation of being filled, your sounds turning into pleas.

“please hyuck,” you whimpered, pulling his hair to lift his head to look at you, his eyes finding yours while his tongue laid flat on your clit. “please fuck me, please,” you were almost crying at this point, desperately wanting to be filled by the same cock you had been blowing not too long ago. you felt pitiful, begging to be fucked liked this by your best friend, but you were too far gone to stop now, and in too deep to care.

within seconds he sped up his fingers, sucking even harder on your clit as you thrashed below him. you couldn’t even collect yourself before your orgasm hit, rippling in waves as you clenched around his sopping fingers. he continued to eat you out as you rode your orgasm, only stopping when you tugged on his hair again.

he pulled his head back, his fingers slipping out of you. he brought said fingers to his mouth, lewdly sucking your juices off of them as he maintained eye contact with you.

“get up,” he demanded, pulling your body from the couch and helping you gain your balance on your noticeably trembling legs. you whined, your brain still foggy from the orgasm he gave you with his mouth. he softly shushed you, helping you to the end of the couch before he pressed you down to bend over the arm of it. you yelped in surprise, but nonetheless let your body become pliant as he positioned your body the way he wanted.

“It's okay baby,” he mouthed against the back of your neck, his chest hovering over your back now. “ i'm gonna give you my cock.” he spoke softly, running his hands up and down your sides in an attempt to calm you as you squirmed aimlessly, desperate for him to fill you up.

you absentmindedly wigged your hips against him, your behind brushing against his extremely hard and dripping cock. he groaned at the friction, sinking his teeth ever so slightly into your skin. he pulled himself up, and before you could complain at the loss of his warmth, you felt his hand come down on your ass. you squealed and heard him laugh as he kneaded the flesh, soothing the pain.

“you want it so bad, don't you, y/n?” they way he said your name was sinful, and the most you could do was frantically nod and whine out several slurred versions of the word ‘yes’. he didn’t make you wait much longer, and you sighed happily once you felt the blunt head of his cock push and pull through your folds, effectively being covered in your excessive wetness.

he swiftly entered you, giving you absolutely no time to get accustomed to his size before he started drilling into you, his hips slapping obscenely against your ass with each harsh thrust. your voice cried out gutterly with each movement he made, your throat feeling raw from the way you were screaming. your walls were sensitive from your previous orgasm, which made the scrape of his dick against them painfully pleasurable. It was almost too much, but you took every inch of him like a good girl just like he wanted.

his hands were gripping your hips, pulling your body back onto his cock with every drive of it inside you. the blunt edges of his nails were piercing your skin, for sure causing you to bleed. you were definitely too far gone now to care; your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as drool dripped down your bottom lip.

the two of you didn’t say much to each other, but you were very far from being silent. mixed with your airy cries were his deeper grunts and moans, and with every one that reached your ears your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing his noises to come out even louder for your listening pleasure.

he suddenly bent forward, his chest coming down to rest against your back once again as he slowed down and grinded his cock into you. he was so deep inside you, the tip of him was brushing against that sweet spot, making your walls flutter around him happily.

he nudged his head against the side of yours, his lips coming down to kiss your cheek sweetly, a complete contrast to the way he was fucking you mere seconds ago. you weakly opened your eyes to look at him, your eyes moving all the way to the side to meet his own. hyuck groaned as your pussy clenched once more around him, looking directly into your watery eyes as his soft breath hit your face. surprising yourself, you desperately leaned forward and took his lips against yours, kissing him passionately as his cock still worked inside you. as he kissed you back, you felt his fingers slide to your clit, your body jumping in his hold as he began playing with the sensitive nub. his tongue invaded your mouth first, toying with your own playfully before pulling away entirely, leaving you wanting more.

he was getting close, you could tell. his hips pinned yours against the couch with each powerful grind. he positioned his arms on either side of you, using the leverage to thrust into you once again. your clit was abandoned, but the way he pounded you still had your orgasm dancing on the edge of breaking. his thrusts became sloppy and aggressive, his breathing ragged and small whines leaving him as he worked hard to chase his release. you squeaked at the sensation, and before you knew it you were being thrown over the edge for the second time.

the white, hot pleasure enveloped your entire body, your mind going numb as your pussy spasmed hard, causing donghyuck to seize up on top of you and spill his scorching cum inside you. you barely registered the feeling of his cum splattering against your walls, flowing deep. as you came down from your high, your body felt weak and your chest heaved from the effort of the orgasm you experienced. hyuck collapsed against your back, effectively crushing you against the arm of the couch. you grumbled underneath him, squirming but then immediately regretted it as it caused his cock to move against your sensitive walls. to make matters worse, his hips involuntarily bucked into you, causing you to hiss at the overstimulation and you heard him yelp as well.

hyuck gently kissed your shoulder before pulling out of you, his cum almost immediately following, dripping down onto your already soaked thighs. he helped you clean yourself up and was kind enough not to laugh as you limped to sit comfortably on the cushions of the sofa. He joined you, and you both sat together, breathing softly in each other’s company.

“so uh,” hyuck started, his eyes looking over at you and trying not to admire the way you were glowing in the soft light of the room. “do i still get that 20 bucks or…?”

he didn't have enough time to escape before you leaned over and started whacking his shoulder, his giggles sounding off loudly across the room. donghyuck may not have gotten $20 from you, but he was sure he would get to have you and call you his from now on.

——

#haechan smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck #nct #nct 127 #nct dream

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cosmicpines · 3 years

Text

code july day 1 - future

au where jeremie's anti-xana program didn't work, taking place half a year after.

“Do’ya think we should start future-proofing our whole situation?” Odd was the first one to speak out loud in at least a half an hour, his voice echoing around the computer lab.

It was late. Not just “it’s a school night, we should turn off the Playstation” late, but “sunrise is in an hour” late. Ulrich, Jeremie, and Aelita were crowded on the couch – a fairly new addition to the lab that William and Odd had dragged over a mile to the factory after finding it on the street, a several-hour long affair that left them both sore for a week – blearily staring at chunky school-loaned laptop screens with piles of overdue library books on the floor in front of them. Odd and William were across the room, hunched over an oversized posterboard, surrounded by an accoutrement of Odd’s art supplies and printed out sheets of paper. What was keeping them up was potentially world-ending, but not in the usual way; instead of an evil AI, it was a history project due at 10 AM.

It wasn’t entirely their fault they didn’t start earlier – saving the world was a full-time job, afterall – but it’s not like they could give an excuse to Mr. Fumet that he would have believed. As the clock ticked over to 4, the prospect of having to pull the trigger on a return trip to finish loomed over them. They had already done it once, blearily uploading PowerPoint slides to the supercomputer to save them, giving Yumi an apologetic phone call in the morning. She was used to the disorienting resets at this point, having done them for half a year after graduating and moving across the country, but they usually texted ahead of time to warn her. She was sympathetic over the phone – she always was – but she was definitely irritated about having to retake an exam. They didn’t want to put her through that again and, besides, they couldn’t exactly keep the poster board from getting erased to time.

“Future-proofing the fact half of us might fail history?” Ulrich grumbled in response from across the room, leaning against the armrest of the couch. His eyes were glazed over in a stupor as he clicked idly around on the screen.

“Ulrich, are you done with your slides yet?” Aelita spat at him, now that the silent spell was broken, “I want to start stitching them together.”

“Uh… no.” Ulrich glanced at her, subtly turning his screen away from her piercing gaze, “Gimme ten more minutes? I’m almost there.”

Aelita clicked her tongue, probably remembering the last promise of the slides “in ten minutes.” She turned to her left and nudged Jeremie, “How about you – oh my god, Jeremie, can you focus?”

“Huh?” He looked up, and guiltly alt-tabbed back to a blank PowerPoint slide. “Sorry, I was just… I had a breakthrough about the bug in the Skid and I was…” He trailed off under her glare, “Sorry.”

Aelita clutched the side of her head, groaning. “Is it too late to go back to living on Lyoko where I don’t have to care about World War I and don’t need sleep?”

“Me too, thanks.” William muttered at Odd’s side, aggressively erasing a sentence on the poster, “Being XANA’s slave was less painful than this.”

He let out a bitter laugh, then raised his head, half smirk fading at the frozen-in-terror looks on his friend’s faces, “Sorry. Too soon?”

Odd, as he so often did, interrupted the awkward silence before people could make it worse, “Future-proofing us, is what I meant. Thanks for asking!” Nobody humored him as the typing across the room started back up and William started writing again, “Look, I’m just saying; we’re not getting any younger.” He brandished a red marker, filling in bubble letters on the top of the poster, “Yumi graduated. We’ve only got a semester left at Kadic –,”

“Could just all repeat a year like I did.” William grimaced. “And might again.”

Ulrich snorted, “Odd and I are probably on track for that.”

“Cheers,” William said, raising his pencil like a glass, without looking up, “Join the failure club.”

“BUT,” Odd interrupted, “Assuming we don’t! Because this presentation is going to be incredible,” That one earned a snort from everyone in the room (which was fair), “We’ll need someone who can do our jobs if we have to leave the good fight. Lyoko Warriors, the Next Generation! Kadic’s Next Top Lyoko Warriors!” He chuckled at himself, standing up, “We should put an ad in the paper: ‘Want a challenging, world-altering job? Come down to the abandoned factory!’” He hummed to himself, tapping his chin, “Our criteria would have to be strict. Can you imagine getting someone like, I dunno, Johnny? So, Johnny. Please, tell me: what’s your greatest fear? Giant crabs, you say? Why yes, that’s both oddly specific and also a dealbreaker. Next!”

Odd looked up, laughing, waiting for his friends to join in – Ulrich telling him he was being dumb, Aelita offering some other students and joking with him about their interviews, William making a snide remark about how he didn’t get an interview, a silent, but appreciative smirk from Jeremie – but got nothing. Jeremie’s head was buried in his laptop, and Aelita was – Aelita was glaring at him?

“What?” He asked her, but she said nothing, just raised an eyebrow in a you know what’s wrong look. Odd clearly didn’t, and turned to Ulrich for a clue, but Ulrich wasn’t giving him anything; he was just back to sulking, staring at his laptop. Odd ran through what he said again in his head, trying to find the offending phrase, when William punched him in the leg. “Hey –,” Odd started, ready to give a snappy retort, before seeing William was urgently tapping at the poster, where he’d just written something. Odd crouched down to read it.

you’re upsetting jeremie.

Odd glanced back at Einstein across the room, whose face was impassive, just typing away. Looking closer, though, he could see Jeremie had all the appearances of someone trying valiantly to pretend they weren’t upset – hunched shoulders, scrunched up face, not a single glance away from the screen. Aelita had stopped glaring to put a hand on Jeremie’s shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Ugh. Odd sighed, wondering if he would have to apologize for just trying to lighten the mood. How was anything he said upsetting to Jeremie? He reached over for a pencil to respond to William, scribbling down on the poster.

Can’t he take a joke?

idk. Guess he thinks you’re blaming him.

Blaming him?? For what???? bro when did I even say anything like that??

you didn’t. don’t bro me bro. not my fault

Odd underlined his first bro, giving William a smile. William rolled his eyes before rubbing out their conversation with an eraser. Odd turned back to his coloring job and took a breath, surprised to see it come in shaky. It’s not your fault he’s upset, he thought to himself, pulling the cap off his marker. It’s fine. He leaned over to finish his coloring before noticing his hands were shaking. He clenched them, angrily. It wasn’t his fault Jeremie was upset. He was fine. Not his fault if Jeremie wanted to over-react. He’ll get over it and… where were the scissors?

He dug around their supplies for them, then, picking up a pile of pictures of historic figures, streaked from the bad library printer, took a pair of trembling scissors to extracting them. They were nearly done. One more section and they’d be done. One more and they could go to bed and Jeremie would get over whatever he was upset about and it was fine and it would all go away and it was fine it wasn’t his fault and –

“I’m working as hard as I can,” Odd felt a bit in his stomach open up as Jeremie spoke in a quiet, bitter voice. Odd stared pointedly down at the poster, blinking rapidly to try and assuage the pressure building behind his eyes, “I know we screwed up by not finishing before Yumi graduated, okay? I’m just… It’s a lot to figure out and I’m trying?! Is that not enough for – No. No, I know it’s not enough – I know I’m keeping us from having a normal life and it’s my fault William had to repeat a year and… and I –,” Jeremie’s breath caught, and Odd finally dared to turn his eyes to him, seeing his friend aggressively rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I – I don’t mean to – look! It’s hard, alright?! It’s hard and I – I’m just so tired all the time and I’m sorry that we’re still awake for this too and that I –,” His voice finally broke as he started crying in earnest, his fist coming down on the side of the couch. Odd wanted to turn back to his work and brush it off, but the guilt clenching his stomach wasn’t letting go.

Hesitantly, Aelita put her hand on his shoulder again, “Jeremie…” but he shook it off again, turning away from her. She persisted. “It’s not your fault. We know you’re working –,”

“And it’s not enough! I’ve been working at this for years and I just I can’t come up with anything to defeat XANA –,”

“You had a lot of other things you needed to do first.”

He didn’t mean to, Odd was sure, but Ulrich’s eyes flickered to William for just a moment, and William’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, are we doing this now?” William grumbled, dropping his pencil. “Jeremie, you’re fine. Look, I’m sorry. Again. You don’t think I don’t regret every moment that I didn’t listen like a fucking idiot –” Jeremie, despite being wracked with tears, winced at the swear, earning a brief hint of a smile from Odd, “ – and got myself captured? Who then was a thorn in your asses for months? No. I get it. You’d probably be rid of XANA already if it wasn’t for me; you’ve made that crystal clear.”

“That’s not what I –,” Aelita glared at him, “You of all people should understand that I would never blame you for being trapped on Lyoko.”

“It’s not you that is. It’s him.” He jerked his thumb at Ulrich, who glared back at him.

“I’m not,” Ulrich muttered, “Cut it out.”

“Oh yeah? What did that look mean then, huh?”

“I didn’t –,”

“You blame me, and we all know it. You’re just butt-hurt over Yumi still, even though you had plenty of chances –,”

“Okay, that’s it.” Ulrich sat up straighter, “Maybe you��re still using Yumi as a scapegoat in all our arguments, but I’m done with that. Maybe I was an ass to you before because of her, but I don’t blame you for XANA, William. I never have. I was over it before you even joined,” He scowled at the ground, Jeremie’s crying filling the brief silence. “It was probably my fault you got captured in the first place. I wasn’t there because I had to talk to my stupid Dad and it was my job to tell Odd and I didn’t make sure – hell, even before that! Who was it that couldn’t protect Aelita back when XANA escaped from the supercomputer in the first place? If she hadn’t been alone, the Scyphozoa wouldn’t have gotten her, and XANA wouldn’t have escaped, and we would have been done.”

“Come on,” Aelita crossed her arms, turning away from Jeremie to the boy on her other side, “You’re being ridiculous. Half of that isn’t your fault.”

Odd wanted to chime in that it was Sam’s fault she didn’t listen to Ulrich, but his voice was still missing in action, his throat tight and unresponsive.

“I should have been able to protect myself,” Aelita continued, “It wasn’t your responsibility –,”

Jeremie laughed suddenly, hurt and bitter, “Protect yourself how? You couldn’t protect yourself because I was dragging my feet on giving you a proper weapon –,”

“We’ve talked about this!” She said, “We agreed it was more worth your time to work on an antivirus!”

“For a virus that didn’t exist! If I had just double checked –,”

“Double checked what? The faulty data you were being fed? There was nothing you could have done! If you want to blame anyone, blame me. Maybe it – maybe helping me made sense at first, when things were able to be stopped at a moment’s notice. But then even when you got me to Earth it wasn’t over, and things got worse, things got more dangerous – when we realized XANA could escape? That we couldn’t just turn it off with a switch? That – that should have been it.” Her voice dropped as she took a shaky breath, “You should have just let me turn the supercomputer off.”

“You were ALWAYS worth the risk, Aelita!” Odd finally snapped, terror shooting through his heart at the broken look on her face, the implications of her words, “You… you matter to us more than anything! Look, I’m sorry for bringing this all up, alright? I thought we could just joke around about running Lyoko Warrior interviews! I didn’t mean to get everyone upset. And speaking of! Jeez! All of you are such downers on yourselves! There’s like, a billion different things that could have happened!” He held out a hand, ticking them off, “Maybe William might not have gotten captured and instead XANA got Yumi or anyone else! Maybe, I dunno, Ulrich saved Aelita temporarily but then XANA tossed him in the digital sea! Maybe Jeremie could have noticed that Aelita didn’t have a virus sooner, and XANA just made a move sooner! Maybe – maybe – maybe if you had just let Kiwi be virtualized normally and not fuse with me he would have been a great Lyoko Warrior and would have bit the Scyphozoa and killed XANA! We don’t know, alright? I’m just trying to say that – ugh, forget it! Sorry! Jeez!”

Odd rubbed at his eyes, surrendering to the frustrated and exhausted stream of tears that leaked out of them. All of them, all of this – he kept trying to play superhero, to pretend that everything was going to be alright like in the movies, but in his heart he had to admit that this was starting to feel futile. Aelita’s virus, XANA’s escape from the supercomputer, William’s capture, Jeremie’s first botched attempt at his anti-XANA program, Franz Hopper’s sacrifice, Yumi’s graduation, their failure to stop space station from falling, Jeremie’s second anti-XANA program getting stolen by the AI, and now the looming threat of their own graduation… he wanted to be joking about needing to interview new Lyoko Warriors, really, but if graduation took them away from the factory… away from each other…

A hand landed on his shoulder, he realized he didn’t need to know who it was to press his own on top of it, to squeeze it and feel loved, as more hands, more friends, found their way to his other shoulder, to his back.

“I’m sorry, Jeremie,” he said, “And everyone else. I didn’t mean to –,”

“Don’t,” came a muttered reply from Jeremie, “We’re all acting tired and stupid. I shouldn’t have yelled. I knew you didn’t mean it.”

Odd let out an exhausted laugh, rubbing his eyes of the last of the tears, looking up and seeing his friends around him, “How late is it?”

“Too late,” Ulrich replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “We’ve got… three hours until classes start.”

A collective groan broke the spell over the room. Odd looked under his feet to the almost-finished-poster. Silently, all of them returned to their working positions. Odd kneeled down to finish gluing down the last of the faces to the poster. As the lull of busy work started taking over his mind, William nudged him.

“Sorry, I, uh…” William looked uncharacteristically bewildered, “This must have happened while I was – did you say Kiwi fused with you?”

#i am well aware that it is long past day one LOL #we'll see what else i get to #my intent going into this was to write exactly what odd wanted to joke about but then i realized that was kinda fucked up #codejuly #codejuly21 #code lyoko #i swear ill write fluff next i promise #mary blabs

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hqbbg · 4 years

Text

memorable.

pairing: kageyama x fem!reader

summary: you’re a virgin and kageyama’s about to change that

genre: smut

word count: 2.7K

warnings: 18+, language, aged up characters, fingering, loss of innocence, no plot tbh (but kinda friends to lovers?), awkward moments just for fun, slight hair pulling kink

author’s note: so this was supposed to be a response to a request but I'm dumb with fat thumbs and accidentally clicked the delete button on the post after I posted it (but thankfully I still had the story saved on my laptop uwu) but n e ways 👁👄👁 to the anon that requested this, I hope this finds you well and ALSO I HIT 500 FOLLOWERS!! thank you to everyone and I might have an event or something to celebrate idk yet 🥺🤧 ok sorry this a/n was long, hope you guys enjoy!! 💖

“Are you okay?”

You do your best to form coherent words, but you can only whimper as you nod your head, gripping Kageyama’s shirt in your fists as he slowly pumps two long fingers in and out of you while your shorts and underwear are abandoned somewhere on his living room floor.

It had started out as an innocent conversation as the two of you sat on his couch which had somehow shifted to the topic of sex. Kageyama was well aware that you were inexperienced, and you trusted him as one of your closest friends to not judge you for a lot of the different questions you had. Apparently being a pro volleyball player was a big plus in impressing the ladies no matter how awkward or intimidating you were, proven by Kageyama’s track record.

Perhaps you had overstepped a boundary when you’d asked him about his experience in fingering, but Kageyama certainly didn’t seem to mind and it was most definitely his idea to show instead of telling you just how good he was at it, even if he was super awkward in proposing the idea.

“Kageyama,” you surprise yourself at the sound of your voice that’s become hardly recognizable with how lustful it sounds. “Faster.”

He nods his head as he begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your sopping wet heat at a quicker pace. His fingers reach much further than your own ever could, and you feel almost lightheaded at the sensation.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he practically groans as he leans towards you. You throw your head back against the couch and soon feel his lips on your exposed throat, sucking and nipping gently at the skin. You arch your back as you feel his fingers brush a spot deep inside you that you’ve never been able to reach yourself and can’t help but cry out in pleasure. Kageyama is quick to get the hint and angles his fingers to repeatedly hit that spot, practically shooting you straight towards your first orgasm caused by another person.

“F-Fuck, Kageyama,” you moan as your toes curl. “I-I think I’m going to—”

Your statement is cut short as you feel Kageyama firmly press his lips against yours, swallowing your moans. You loosen your grip on his shirt and move one hand to the back of his head, weaving your fingers through his hair. He hums against your lips as you begin to tug on his locks, tightening your grip when you feel his thumb press against your clit, rubbing it in harsh circles. You gasp and feel his tongue slip inside your mouth as your body begins to tremble and before you know it, your walls are clamping down on his fingers and you feel your orgasm consume your senses.

“Are you okay?” Kageyama’s voice manages to reel you back down from your high as he pulls away and you look at him with half-lidded eyes, hearing a dull ringing in your ears.

“Never better,” you admit with a shy smile. He returns the smile and you notice that his cheeks have tinted a light shade of pink.

He slowly removes his fingers and you bite your lip to hold back the soft whimper threatening to slip out from the sensitivity. You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips and feel yourself blushing deeply at how erotic he looks, sucking and licking his fingers clean.

“You taste pretty good,” he says casually and you’re sure you look almost feverish from the embarrassment.

He leans forward again and kisses you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue and momentarily clearing your thoughts of anything but him. Your hands begin to wander down his chest to his waist and move towards the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Hey, we don’t have to go further tonight,” he says softly as he pulls away.

“I want to,” you say as you lock eyes with him. The dark blue tint of his eyes practically blends in with the lustful expanse of his blown-out pupils and you hate the idea of leaving him in this state without release.

“Are you sure?”

Your fingers graze over the growing hardness between his legs and you bite your lip as you nod, noting the increased pacing of his breathing. You know your friendship will change after this—whether it’s for better or for worse—but you’re willing to take that risk.

“I’m bound to lose my virginity eventually,” you say, your eyes flitting back up to look at him. “Plus, we’ve made it this far, so just make my first time memorable.”

“I think I can manage that,” he replies as he dips his head to kiss you again.

His hands take more liberty now as he uses one hand to cup your clothed breast, giving it a firm squeeze to elicit a moan from you. He slips his tongue inside your mouth and you feel him guide and maneuver your body so you’re laying down across the couch. He adjusts your positions, so you aren’t squeezed to one side as he hovers over you and slips his hand under your shirt, ghosting over the bare skin of your torso.

His lips move down your jaw and you sigh with content as he licks and kisses the skin behind your ear. Your own hands busy themselves with his shirt and he pulls his lips away for a moment to sit upright and lift his shirt up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. You have a moment to admire the definition of his muscles, the way they ripple with his movements. He leans back down to kiss your neck and collarbone, and your fingers trace the existing lines on his abdomen before arriving at his waistband.

Before you can do anything, Kageyama tugs on your shirt and you prop yourself up slightly to get rid of it. Upon doing so, Kageyama’s fingers are quick to unhook your bra as well and free your breasts, leaving you completely naked before him. He remains sitting upright and licks his lips as his eyes take their time memorizing every dip and curve of your body. You raise your arms to cover yourself from embarrassment and it seems to snap Kageyama out of his daze as he grabs your wrists and gently pries them away from your body.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare,” he says softly as he leans back over you. “You’re beautiful.”

Just when you think it’s impossible, your face burns hotter and you can barely mutter a response as he captures your lips with his again. His hands knead your breasts, his fingers occasionally pinching and rolling your nipples to hear soft moans from you. Your hands find their way back to his pants and you begin to tug them down. Kageyama removes one hand to help you and pulls his lips away, muttering curses under his breath when his sweats prove to be troublesome as they refuse to simply slip off.

You can’t help but giggle softly at his visible frustration and watch as he eventually yanks them down, sliding them off and kicking them aside. The crease that had managed to form between his brows softens when he turns his attention back to you and instantly forgets what he was even upset about to begin with—the way your lips are tugged into a smile along with your pink-dusted cheeks stirs something in Kageyama beyond his current lust.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” You ask, pulling him out of his thoughts. He can see how shy and nervous you are.

“I just never thought this day would come,” he replies honestly. Before you can question anything further, he slips his boxers down, freeing his erect cock.

You bite your lip as you look at it, head empty of every thought that does not revolve around the naked man before you. This is your first time seeing a dick in person and to be quite honest, you’re intimidated by it; how’s it even supposed to fit?

“We’ll take it slow,” says Kageyama, as if he was reading your thoughts. Your eyes meet his and you nod, only partially comforted by the softness of his voice; your mind is still trying to wrap around how you’re supposed to wrap around him.

Kageyama kisses your neck and you sigh softly as he uses his hands to relax some of the tension you hadn’t even realized you had built up in such a short amount of time. You feel his fingers prodding back at your entrance before his index finger drags up your slit.

You feel him spread your wetness around a little before inserting two fingers again for the second time this evening and you moan as he begins to spread them within you in a scissoring motion. Your hands are on his shoulder and in his hair as he continues to suck on a sensitive spot on your neck, nibbling every so often. He continues to stretch you out for a little longer until you’re writhing and whimpering under him, begging for something more. He pulls his fingers out and you watch as he sits up a little to position himself. He coats his length with a mixture of your juices on his fingers along with the precum that’s been beading at the tip of his cock and you can’t deny that he looks undeniably attractive doing so.

He positions himself at your entrance, prodding your lower lips open with the head before a thought seems to hit him and he pauses, pulling away. You look at him with confusion and he looks back at you with sheepish realization.

“Let me go grab a condom.”

You’d been so caught up in the moment that you’d also forgotten to implement protection and can only sit and watch as he hurriedly rushes into his room. You sit up and wait patiently as you hear him opening a couple drawers and slamming them, muttering incoherent words to himself before rushing back out to you, his fingers fiddling with a recognizable square wrapper. He tears it open and grabs the rubber ring as he finally reaches his way back to you.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find where I’d placed my condoms,” he mutters as he rolls the condom onto himself.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head with a small smile. “Better late than never to remember, right?”

“Good point,” he smirks back and climbs on top of you again. He gives you a chaste kiss before gripping onto his cock again and you spread your legs for him as he repositions himself. You bite your lip in anticipation as he rubs the head of his cock against your pussy again, coating the condom with your dripping slick.

You watch and feel the anticipation building as he begins to push through and your hands scramble to grip onto anything tangible, one hand settling on the back of the couch and the other cupping over your mouth to conceal the pained whimpers escaping your lips.

“Are you okay?” Kageyama asks gently as he pauses his movements momentarily. You feel the painful stretch and glance down to see that he’s barely halfway in before inhaling deeply and nodding. “If you need me to slow down or stop, let me know, okay?”

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut as he begins to push his way in again, slowly easing in.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hisses as he leans over you, using one arm to support himself by your head. He dips his head to nuzzle his face into your neck, whispering and muttering sweet encouragements in your ear.

After what feels like an eternity of being stretched and filled, he finally bottoms out and remains still to allow you to adjust to him accordingly.

“Are you okay?” he asks once again, lifting his head to look at your face. Your eyes are squeezed shut with tears lining your lashes and he brushes some hair out of your face as you shift your body slightly to feel more comfortable, though you can’t imagine how right now.

Kageyama’s patient as he continues to mutter sweet nothings in your ear until you’re finally ready for him to move.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you manage to reply. He begins to slowly pull out and eventually stops right before his entire length slips out of you and pushes all the way back in. You can’t help but cry out as he repeats the motions slowly, pausing every so often to ensure that you’re doing okay.

So… this is sex, huh?

“Kageyama,” you say when you begin to finally feel the pain beginning to dull. “F-faster.”

You can practically see the enthusiasm on his face as he nods, his hands moving to your hips as he begins to thrust his hips quicker. You continue to moan and arch your back as Kageyama sits up, gripping your hips to stabilize you as he continues to snap his hips against yours.

He hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls you closer to him to hit even deeper than before, causing you to practically see stars as you become undone under him, moaning and chanting his name. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes throughout his apartment and you prop yourself up with your elbow, using your free hand to reach out to Kageyama and pull him down to kiss you. He swallows your moans as he grunts against your lips, feeling you fist his hair in your hand.

“Fuck, I won’t last much longer if you keep doing that,” he practically growls, and you can feel your walls tighten around him, the bubble of pleasure in the pit of your stomach growing. “or if you keep tightening around me—fuck, you’re so tight, baby.”

“I-I think I’m close,” you whimper as you push yourself up further so you’re nearly sitting upright. Kageyama rests his forehead against yours, panting as he locks eyes with you.

“Me too,” he says as he does his best to maintain his rhythm. He releases one of your legs and moves his arm forward to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in circles. Your back arches and an ecstatic moan of pleasure rips through you as you’re hurled to your second orgasm.

“Tobio, I’m cumming!” You cry out as you feel your walls tightening around him, your nails digging little crescents into the skin of his back and shoulders. He hisses as he continues his ministrations, allowing you to reach your climax first.

Your eyes practically roll to the back of your head as you throw your head back, moaning his name as the bubble in your stomach bursts and white flashes before your eyes, your whole body trembling. Kageyama is close behind as he hisses, his movements growing increasingly sloppier until he also finally begins to release his load whilst being inside of you.

Your body feels spent as he slows down, thrusting his hips a few more times before stilling completely. The room is soon filled with the simple sounds of both of your heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” Kageyama asks again once he’s recovered from his climax. He gently brushes some hair away from your face and you see how soft he is now in comparison to mere moments ago.

“Yeah, I think I’m more than okay,” you say with a bashful giggle.

“Good,” he replies with a soft smile and leans forward to kiss you. Your hands move up and cup his face, holding him close to you for a few more moments before he pulls away.

“I’m going to pull out, okay?”

You nod and wince as he pulls out, unbelievably sensitive. You’re also now more aware of the growing soreness between your legs and find it hard to close your legs.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” says Kageyama as he helps you move so you’re sitting upright on the edge of the couch.

Kageyama is the first to get up and begins to make his way towards his room before stopping and turning to look at you.

“So, was your first time memorable?”

“Definitely,” you reply with a nod. The smirk you see on his face is one you only see after he wins his volleyball games and another thought crosses your mind. “What if I said it wasn’t?”

“Then maybe I can try again until I get it right.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #haikyuu reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x you #kageyama x reader #hq kageyama #hrnybbg

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binniesthighs · 4 years

Text

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: I sincerely apologize for the pain caused with last chapter...so naturally, i had to go and write more pain muahaha. i also apologize for the wait on this one, for some reason i had a weirdly hard time getting this one out of my head, ahhh i think I’m just lil sad about it all ending :( but! we’re almost out of the woods cuties!! thank you so very much reading as always!! <3 this is the second to last chapter and idk how to feel ahhhh

Part 7

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, roommate!minho, explicit language, some kissin’ and that good, good makin’ out, soft n’ intimate body touchinggg, mentions of getting drunk in the past, mentions of a toxic familial relationship, gahhh lots of crying and emotions in this one but it’s bc we’re figuring things out :)

CW: dub-con-ish scene due to conflicting feelings but it gets stopped pretty quick

Word count: 7.6k

Chapters

Jisung shared his apartment with two equally messy boys. You had forgotten their names despite meeting them and seeing them around on more than one occasion. Lucky for you, they each had distinguishing features so you named them as such: tall one and younger one with white hair. Once upon a time the four of you had hung out and they weren’t unbearable, just a bit cookie-cutter as you had called it. Both of them were in the same music school as Jisung and didn’t have many other interests outside going to music shows and playing PC games while loudly shouting.

There was never food in that apartment but somehow there was always dirty dishes in the kitchen. Sure, it smelled a bit like dirty socks, but you never paid too much attention to that when you would clambering in the door with your lips locked with Jisung’s. It was strange walking in not doing so. Tall one and younger one with the white hair sat on the couch eating pizza with feet kicked up on their banged up coffee table. They didn’t say anything as they watched you walk in, but merely rolled their eyes and pretended that you weren’t there anymore.

“We can go to my room.” Jisung raked his hand through his greasy brown strands, then kicked aside approximately ten pairs of sneakers. He held onto your hand tightly--so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

You nearly slipped on that rug that lined the wooden floors of their hallway. It wasn’t the first time.

Just as the rest of the apartment was, Jisung’s room was strewn with all kinds of random articles such as dirty clothes, tangled up cords and old to-go containers. His bed was unmade; it was those navy sheets that likely hadn’t been washed in several weeks. You could never really pinpoint what they smelled like, just that they smelled like him. You had spent nights there too, but they were nothing memorable. No groggy mornings with coffee or sunlight streaked onto his features for you to admire in the golden sheen. It had been running late to class and the dozens of times that you had left jewelry and hair-ties.

“Wanna sit down?” Jisung patted the spot next to him, and you did so.

The two of you sat in silence, the atmosphere became thick with the tangible sense of disaster that hung around the both of you. It was catastrophic.

His trembling hand came reaching for yours, and you let him take it. He sniffled, and it triggered your eyes to fill with the same hot tears.

For the first time, you wondered, what am I doing here?

“You want to lay down?” His puffy eyes asked you.

You nodded, crinkling those bedsheets that were probably full of dust.

In all your months of knowing him, you had never, never cuddled. This was the first time and you really weren’t even tied together anymore.

His nose had turned pink, and he rubbed a bit of snot away with his wrist.

“Thank you for coming here.” Jisung whispered. “But--what are you doing here? I thought that you were with Changbin now?”

I am. You thought briefly. Am I?

“I just...so confused right now. I don’t know...there’s just...I don’t know...”

A tear fell down Jisung’s cheek, and you couldn’t fathom why he would be the one crying when it should’ve been you. You wiped it away. You had never thought of it before, but seeing him cry brought a sting to your chest.

Jisung leaned forward, and the bed creaked lightly, then he kissed you. It wasn’t really a passionate one, but one that he had used to say more than he could himself. His lips tasted salty running over yours, and your brain froze deciding what to do. Jisung never changed: as broken as it felt, he was still starving, needy, and rough. You tried to find meaning in it, or if it made you feel.

It didn’t.

Jisung held your face in his hands, and with a hesitant sigh, he said, “I really, really wanted to do that for so long.”

As desperate he had seemed for you, you couldn’t find the same desire if you had tried. Maybe, you had to find it?

“Kiss me again.” You hushed.

He licked his lips with a gaze softening. “Okay.”

This time he swung his legs around your hips and straddled you with the kind of pressure that you had craved, once upon a time. He bent down to press even more of his heated desire on your skin. He was a good kisser, and you remembered once again how you really had wanted to have him kiss you like this, once upon a time. His tongue slicked against your bottom lip and you gave him the permission, testing it out just to see.

You had thought back then that he was unreal.

Jisung rutted his hips down into your waist, and you had already felt how he had hardened in his sweatpants.

You knew how it would go...or how it used to.

“Baby, I want you so bad. You have no idea. I-I don’t think that I want anyone else besides you--” He broke to meet your eyes. Your world blurred, and sobbed out from under his gaze.

What am I doing here?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Worry flooded over his face.

“I-I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this, fuck--what the fuck am I doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please just...get off of me. Please...”

He did so, but still looked just as shocked. “Did I do something wrong?”

He too started to tear up again. At last you could finally name what it was that tugged at his soft brown eyes. Fear.

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong? Y/n, I don’t understand, you’re confusing me so much--”

“--This isn’t right Jisung!” You nearly yelled with broken sobs. “We aren’t right.”

Jisung’s face fell, crestfallen. “N-no--”

“--We destroy each other!! Don’t you see?? Never have we ever been happy together, we’re just...coping! That isn’t love!!”

“Then why the hell am I in love with you??” Jisung spat out the words, and then it was immediately evident that he had regretted saying them.

A deadly silence fell over the room, and all that was left was the both of your weak sniffles.

“What did you just say?”

Jisung grabbed one the pillows then threw it down on the floor with a poof.

“Fuck!!!” He literally shouted. His face had turned red, and snot dripped down to his lip. “I have fucking feelings for you okay?? Is that enough for you?”

“Ji...yo-you can’t--”

“I can’t what?! Is it a fucking crime? Listen, I’m scared out of my fucking mind saying this to you, alright? I don’t know why the hell I am but--”

“--We-we can’t, Jisung..”

“Can’t what?!” He threw his hands up into he air in his exasperation. “Stop fucking confusing me!!”

“We destroy eachother.”

Jisung grabbed another pillow to pummel to the ground, but then stopped himself, digging his fingers into the fabric until his nailbeds turned white.

“We hurt eachother too much. An-and...I don’t think that it’s really our fault either. It’s just...who we are. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I want.”

Jisung sobbed out horribly, then buried his face in his hands.

“But I fell in love with you...?” His voice was terribly cracked.

You watched as tears dropped into your lap and made little wet dots on your jeans. “I fell in love with Changbin...”

His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, but still glistened, like the way that oil would slick in rainbows with the snow.

“Then what are you doing here?” He asked one more time, but now he had appeared to be utterly broken.

You rose from the bed, looking down at him and drying your face. “I...think I know why.”

“And?”

Outside of Jisung’s window, the view was similar to your own: city lights in an array of colors; each of them like stars on the ocean. On the wall adjacent from his bed, you noticed there was a crack. You had never realized that it was there before.

“I’m admitting something that I should’ve a long time ago.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

You had likely forgotten to close a window in your apartment somewhere because the winter cold had pervaded the whole space. It took you about ten minutes to realize that it was in your bathroom from when you had taken a shower earlier to air let out the steam.

The second thing that you noticed was the crumpled up blanket resting on the couch from before. For some odd reason, you felt the strong desire to wrap it all around yourself like you could capture some essence of him in it. Sure enough it did smell like that scent of his that you had grown so used to. You let the blanket trail behind you has you made your way to your room to pull on one of his shirts over your head.

“Who told you that you could look so cute in that?” He had said one time.

[23:16] Bin

me: can i call you?

[00:18] Bin

me: if you’re asleep, can I call you in the morning? if that’s okay? i said things that I didn’t mean...i just didn’t know it then.

i’m so sorry

how i treated you...you didn’t deserve that

i understand if you’re mad at me. you have every right.

i’m sorry that i couldn’t see that things that you were trying to show me.

i see them now.

You had thought that now the snow had finally faded into the edge of the winter that near it’s conclusion. Early March, and you wanting nothing more for spring buds to peep from the snow capped floral beds on street corners and for the white hugging the trees to dissapear forever. The winter had felt as if it had lasted for a year--even though this year you had seen less snow than other years.

There had been a time when you firmly believed that once the snow melted, it would get better. Snow was a bitter memory, and it was curse that had to happen each and every year.

The night that you had met Changbin, it had been cold. Cold like the winter that you had tried to hide from. You hadn’t thought of it until now, but he was much like the way that snowflakes melted on your skin. It reminded you of the icy coldness of the world for fleeting moments, then faded just as quickly as it arrived. The little wet mark of him warmed on your skin.

Outside of the miniscule window to your living room, snowflakes got caught up in the edges of the frame, and sprinkled the surface of the glass in their variety of gorgeous fractals and unique shapes. A full moon was painted into the sky with a brightness that could’ve paralleled the sun on this clear night swimming in deep azure.

You hugged the fabric of one of his shirts even closer to your frame, pretending for a moment that it was him that had been hugging you and not the cotton.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out weakly to the empty room.

Your phone screen flashed with the time: [00:42]. You wondered, maybe he really had given up like he said that he would’ve. Maybe he walked home in the shivering cold, hands shoved into his pockets and decided that he was done waiting; that you weren’t worth his time and the effort. Maybe he walked in his front door, closed it behind himself, and said the words, This is it. No more. Maybe he walked into his room and cried. Maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t decide if you had wanted him to cry for you or not. Both hurt.

[01:13.]

Your eyes dragged with sleep, but your mind moved faster than the pace of your dry eyelids. Dust had settled on the white sheet that you had drawn over the painting in your room. On the underside of the sheet, globs of acrylic had dried and turned into multicolored flecks: a bit like the sheet was a piece of art and and of itself. It was nearly finished, and only had about one more quadrant left that was void of color.

Your wooden pallet had been resting by the window, so it was cold to the touch--as were the little aluminum bottles of paint resting beside it. You used your shirtsleeve to dry away one tear that had battled its way to your lid, then sat back on your desk chair, facing the easel head on.

Black first. Then deep blue, then bright yellow, burnt orange and gold.

Hairs brushed over the canvas, and swept in wide strokes back and forth. With an empty mind, you smeared over the dark colors that faded to the edge of the canvas into the glowing light of the edge of the alleyway painted here. His figure was prominent, even though you couldn’t see his face. He wore black clothes that were simple. Frankly, you didn’t really remember what he had worn that night, but it didn’t matter much. Neon blue and red restaurant signs met on as reflection on his dark black hair.

It was as if your chest and hand had been weighted down even further, but you fought through it to raise them. While you let the tears fall at first, they dried after long and made the skin of your cheeks tout. The room was silent, and so it was outside with the drifting snow. Soon, the painting would be finished, and you could sleep. You couldn’t sleep until then.

if your art didn’t mean anything, what even was it?

The pink lights lining your room provided the only light to the room, however not much else was needed than that.

You bit your lip, now mixing yellow with red.

If you couldn’t tell him. You hoped with every fiber that this would.

[04:51] Bin

me: if you’re up to it, can we talk? or, i can call you?

goodnight

wait its morning

good morning then.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Chan was good at keeping his promises. There was not one time in your whole time in knowing him that he hadn’t kept a promise, no matter how absurd it might’ve been. He had promised you to buy you ice cream on the first day of snow, and he had promised to share his lyrics with you, no matter how much they would make him cringe. He promised that if you ever needed someone to watch your guilty pleasure reality shows with, he would be over as soon as he could. Next to Felix, you had figured a long time ago that if there were ever people in your life that you were destined to meet, he was one of them. Admittedly, there had been a time when you had harbored a crush on him, but as usual, you had been best at getting in your own way before anything could’ve happened. This, and you loved him as a friend too much.

Too many jell-o shots were both of your enemies. Halfway into the driest seven minutes in heaven of your life, and halfway into your confession to him, he had passed out right in your arms. You were lucky that he had forgotten the event entirely. Or, he was keeping his promise that you had hurriedly made asking him to forget that it ever happened when you and Felix carted him out of there.

While he was good at keeping promises, you more so wished that he had forgotten that one.

Chan had promised that he would personally use his ID card to get into the soundproof booth in the music department to scream.

You hadn’t ever taken him up on the offer until today.

It was nearly midnight and unopened text messages still sat in in empty bubbles on your phone screen.

Even though you had consistently texted “good morning” and “goodnight” for three days straight, the action of sending them didn’t make you feel any better.

Chan didn’t ask any questions, but merely let you through the halls which echoed from your squeaking wet shoes. The green light of emergency signs appeared to be the only guiding lights, but Chan knew the way well.

“Careful. The floor is slippery. They mop after everyone leaves.” He hushed in the silent hallway.

Your fingers and lips cracked from the cold and felt tingly warming up in the dry heat of the building. The two of you turned two more corners, then Chan carefully wrapped his veiny and red hand over the handle to the door marked with “Studio Five.” He tapped his key to the reader, and it beeped with flashing green and orange lights.

“Here. This is the entrance to the booth. I’ll enter from that door to get to the other side of the glass. You don’t...want me to go in with you?”

“Want me to wreck your ears?” You have him a feeble smile.

He mustered his own kind of strength that he had been keeping up just for you. “Hm. You’re right.” Your friend clicked on the light, and it burned your eyes at first compared to the black hall. “Take...all the time that you need, I’ll just be over there. If you wanna...talk about things, I’m here for that too.”

The booth was an ugly shade of lime green, and you wondered how anyone could ever be creative in a place such as this. On the other side of the tinted glass, you watched as Chan flicked on the light, then made his way to push the button to the little intercom system. His voice buzzed with a tinny sound.

“No one can hear you, so....go nuts.”

The walls were too padded with black foam insulation, and for a moment you considered how strange it was, that you, had entered that place to scream--not make music like the room had been used to. Even though the walls were lime green. It still brought a sense of sadness to your chest.

The room spun lightly behind your eyes, and you panted out frantically.

What the hell am I doing in here?

[23:29] bin

me: I hope that you sleep well tonight. i’m thinking of you.

“Is everything okay in here?” Chan’s voice said over the speakers.

“W-what am I doing here?” You repeated the question, feeling panic rise up your throat.

“Getting your anger out?” He tiled his head. “I-I don’t know why else because you didn’t tell me. You angry at someone? Something?”

“N-no? --I mean, yes...I-I don’t know.” You said with uncertainty. Suddenly the foam walls of the room started to close in. “I need to get out of here.”

“Woah! Woah! Y/n! What’s--” Chan chased you out of the room, back into the empty hallway with the squeaky floors and the green light.

“Hey, let’s just...take a breather here for a sec.” Your friend reached out to smooth down your arms. “If you wanna talk about it, I can help maybe?”

You tore from his gasp, then slumped against the wall to slide all the way down and sit on the cold linoleum floors with the heaters pumping steadily above your head.

“He’s not...messaging me back, and I think that I royally fucked up this time. I think that I finally did it, I finally pushed him too far.”

“Who? Changbin?” Chan crouched down to sit next to you. “Is that what this is about?”

Shallow breaths filled up your lungs, “I think...I think I just lost everything that I could’ve had with him, and it’s all my fault...I’m fucking angry at myself, Chan.”

“A-are you sure?”

“I basically told him that I didn’t know if I wanted to be his girlfriend...after everything that’s happened, everything that he’s done and how patient he’s been...but...there was Jisung an-and...I realize that I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, I want to be with him so fucking badly and I was just too caught up to see it and--”

“--Stop!” Chan barked. “Stop and give yourself a second to breathe! Did you realize that you’re not doing that?

You hadn’t. Nor had your noticed your shaking hands. However, Chan had seen them, and held them with his.

“You said that you do want to be with him but you told him that you didn’t?”

Somewhere in the hallway, one of the emergency floodlights blinked with a harsh white light.

“Yes.”

“And did you tell him that you didn’t mean it?”

“I have but he hasn’t gotten back to me? He would always get back to me, no matter what it was--it makes me worry--”

Chan cupped your hands then brought them to his chest where he held them earnestly. “Some things are out of our control, Y/n. And, I hate to say it but, now, I think you need to come to accept the possibility that maybe...” His gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say something more or better but I’m not him and I can’t know...”

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be comforting?”

Chan tsked, as he often would do with a little sarcastic drag to his voice. “A long time ago I promised you that I would always be honest with you, and you know that I hold to my word.

He rubbed his thumb into your hands.

“Do you want me to say then to go running after him? Throw it all to the wind? Even if it doesn’t end up going your way?”

“...Maybe.” You swiped a tear from the corner of your right eye. “Would it be worth it?”

“Maybe.” He sighed.

A silence filled the hall and the space between you two, and Chan kept holding your hand. It was a simple touch, but you hadn’t realized that you had craved something as such.

“Y/n? Can I say something?”

“Yeah?”

“Even if it isn’t him that it ends up being, I think that you should know that you still deserve happiness in someone. Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do. It sounds like to me...you’re finally realizing it.” He smiled with a bit of a wrinkle to his lips. “I’m proud of you.”

You squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Its...been a long time coming.” Your head hit the wall behind you with a slight thud. “I’ve been painting recently. And...it means something to me. I feel like I found something, like I’m seeing something for the first time in a long time and it makes me really... full. Like he does.”

Your friend let go, then went to play with his shoe-laces.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?”

“He just...loved me different. Better than I ever could myself, and I think that it made me realize that in order for me to love him too, I had to make peace with myself, and just...” You breathed out a laugh, “...Chill the fuck out. But--I know that I can’t let go of it forever. What happened, made me. I can’t give that up, but that doesn’t mean that I should wallow in it forever. I don’t deserve that.”

Chan leaned to give you a light slap to the arm. “Look at you.”

“I...saw Jisung too.”

While anger laced his voice, Chan remained level headed. “...And?”

“Me and him just dug ourselves into a deeper hole. Even he...he could do better. He needs a “Changbin” too. You know? I can’t be that for him. I never was even close. I feel sorry. I should probably see him one last time...”

The image of Jisung’s disparaged face burned in your memory in the midst of it all. Somehow you had forgotten that he had gotten feelings tangled it up in it all, and you had just left. Through all that you had been through with him, you couldn’t let it just go so easily.

“There’s a lot of things that I need to make right.” You sighed out with finality. Next to you, your best friend did the same.

“Whatever happens, Felix and I will be here for you. Like always.”

“Mm. Thank you, Chan. Really. Thank you so much. The two of you are the best friends that I could ask for. I don’t know how you put up with me...”

“Ahhh, don’t mention it.” He shoved his shoulder into yours playfully. “Ya know, if this goes south, we could just date.”

“What?!” Your head whipped over to him so hard it hurt.

“As I recall, about a year ago all it took were some jell-o shots...”

You smacked him upside the head, causing him to burst out laughing in that empty hall.

“I told you to forget about that!!”

“I’m just joking!! Jeez! Can you take a joke!?”

You laughed with him, your goofy and kindhearted best friend. You realized it hadn’t happened in quite some time.

“Yeah Changbin is alright, but me and Felix are forever. Got it?” He teased, and you slumped your head on his shoulder.

“I know.”

In your pants pocket, your phone vibrated and flashed with a white light.

[01:36] L. Minho

minho: i fucking hate that i’m in this position

but

bin’s in a bad way and i’m fairly certain that he hasn’t told you about it all

idiot.

anyway, his parents are being shitty assholes and i think that he really needs you right now, even if he isn’t saying anything about it. actually i know that he does.

i also wanna ask you to kindly resolve whatever shit that you have going on before you walk in our door. out of kindness for both yourself and him.

sorry not sorry. i really do love the both of you and it hurts me to see it be like this.

i suggest that you come over as soon as you can.

Your heart beat its way into your throat with a million emotions, but out of them all, fear for Changbin ached the most.

“Chan, I have to go.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

It was likely Minho who had buzzed you in.

Luckily, the night had somehow gotten warmer--at least warm enough to where you couldn’t see your breath in front of your face any more. Unfortunately though, you had still worn the shoes that Changbin would scold you for wearing on snow-packed nights. Luckily, the snow had started melted too.

The door clicked when it unlocked, and you slid inside the glass entrance that was smudged with fingerprints and the wet from dog’s noses pressing on the surface.

For a reason unknown to you, you decided to take the stairs--even though he had lived on the seventh floor. Partially you had decided that you had done so because it meant that you had more time with your thoughts; more time to decide if you really had resolved all the shit that you needed to leave on the outside of his doorstop.

You thought back to the painting sitting finished in your room. It waited in all of it’s beauty for the sun to shine on it and the rest of the world to see it. For him to see it. It was for him that you had painted it in the first place. Every ounce of pain and confusion was lathered across the canvas, it was bare for anyone to see after you had kept it concealed for so long.

He would see it.

You took each step slow and carefully, and listened to the way that the sound bounced off of the walls and how the carpet matted on each stoop.

Chan had said, “Even after all that you’ve been through, you still do.”

Minho opened the door after three clicks wearing a bathrobe and slippers. For being so distressed like his message had said, he looked perfectly cozy. You remembered that Minho really was one to keep it all together when shit would get intense. Somehow he had the ability to write whole papers over the course of one day and had passed tests after studying for only four hours. You wished you could manage as well as he could.

“Fuck. It’s late.” He rubbed his eyes. “Come in. Take off your shoes please.”

You did so, and rubbed your toes into their carpet. It was almost as if you were waiting further instructions, but you knew full well what you had to do.

Minho glared at you expectantly. “Well? Shits left outside?”

“Shits left outside.” You repeated with a nod.

“l’ll let him explain. It isn’t really my place. Just--listen to him okay? I think that’s what he needs right now.”

The apartment itself was a bit barren, the only things that were placed in the small space were the things that the inhabitants needed: a dining table, a leather couch, a TV set, a few beanbags and a kitchen kept clean by Minho. It was strange seeing a place so organized and...neat. It was as if this apartment was from an other side of the world compared to what you had grown used to previously. Changbin’s thick and dark black coat hung on one of the dining chairs, the same that he had worn the night that he had last seen you. You wondered if it had been sitting there these past few days.

“Go on.” Minho flapped his hands to usher you down the hallway to Changbin’s room. At the end of the hallway was the bathroom, and seeing it flooded your skin with the feeling of warm water and defrosting skin, lips on lips with heated desire; tracing fingertips that got caught with the translucent stream of water as they brushed down spines and hips. If you could’ve gone back to then and done it all over...you wondered if you would’ve.

“Knock first.” Minho mouthed.

You did, breath hitching when it opened slightly, and you called out his name. “Bin? Its me. Can I...can I come in?”

His hesitant voice called back to you, “Yes.”

He was a crumble on his bed, black socks twisted up with his dark bedsheets and his hoodie riding up his back to expose a sliver of skin where he laid facing away from the door. His beautiful dark hair was knotted.

“B-Bin? A-are you okay?” You advanced forward carefully, reaching out to touch his arm. You had never seen this confident and headstrong man reduced to something so small, it broke your heart into shards to see him as such. You didn’t know what to do with yourself: sit with him? Stand? Crawl in to bed next to him? Unspoken words filled the air, and he sniffed out loudly into it.

“Thank you for messaging me still.” Was what he had said first. “I saw them a little bit ago. I was...too scared to open them at first...your messages. I was...ashamed to...”

“--Bin,” You took two steps closer. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

He sniffed in with a clogged nose once more. “I’m sorry.”

Two more steps. “No, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t listen to you, and took all of your patience with me for granted. I really don’t deserve it. I tore you up, and that was awful of me. You somehow ended up being collateral damage to me figuring my shit out and I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I understand if you don’t want to keep this going that we--”

“--Can you get into bed with me?” He suddenly interjected. Changbin twisted his hand back as if he knew that yours was there in some superhuman way, and grabbed at it. “It’s...cold.”

Your heart paused, uncertain if you had heard him correctly.

“Please?” Changbin muttered. “Two bodies is warmer than one.”

Silently, you crossed the room and shimmied off your coat so it fell to the floor. It had been partially absentminded, but you had pulled on one of his shirts that day. It was light grey, and had nearly lost all semblance of his scent on it. You pulled the covers over both of you, peering just enough to see his puffed and red eyes and red wet nose. Seeing him like this, you had to fight every instinct to pull him into your arms, but rather keep a respectful distance.

From seeing the way that he dominated the stage to how he looked under the soft glow of your pink lights, to how he had looked as thin and as fragile as glass now, it had all finally made sense to you. As brash and forthcoming as he was, it wasn’t all of who he was in the slightest. If anything, it was who he had pretended to be.

Tears fell over his pink lips. “I didn’t tell you because...I was embarrassed. Fuck,” He laughed a little, “It’s so fucking pathetic. I’m so pathetic for getting so messed up over this all. I-I shouldn’t. That and...it’s not something that you should--”

“--Don’t you dare say that I shouldn’t worry about this Bin. How many times do you need me to say it?” You traced his dark hair over his ear. “What happened to being each other’s problems?”

He smiled with a weak grin, then wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Minho didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head. “He said that you should be the one to.”

Changbin sighed out, then pulled the comforter up to his nose, adjusting himself to meet your eyes with his that were strained with pink.

“They’re disowning me. For real this time. They asked me to do a legal name change and everything...as if...they’re cutting me out of the family line. Fuck, I mean, they basically are.”

His chest shook with an inhale, and a thick and burning mucus felt as if it had clung to your throat. It was anger and rage, the kind that was so foreign to you, it even started you to feel such a thing.

“Bin, I’m so sorry. They’re...they’re fucking less than human is what they are. Treating you their own son like this...like they think that they can reverse time so that you were never even born of them...” Under the sheets your knuckles clenched so hard it bit the skin of your palms. “I-I’m sorry too...that you were going through this by yourself--”

In one single motion he had spread out his arms to circle them around your upper body and pull it into hm.

There he was again. Rosemary and cedarwood.

You were in shock, but feeling the warmth from his body on yours made you shiver--it was the contact that you had craved so intensely now that you had it, it was so all encompassing that your brain scrambled feeling it.

“Thank you for coming.” He whispered to the top of your head.

Your hands snaked around his body, and you held him back.

In that very moment, you had decided that you would spend the rest of your life holding him back if he would let you. If there was someone out there listening to your thoughts, you prayed that they would let you hold him.

Changbin patted to top of your head with a trembling hand.

“What the fuck do I do?”

Your fingers tugged at the thick cotton of his hoodie.

“They said that either I meet with them to sign away my name, or I pack up, and go back with them as if nothing happened. They said that they were willing to “forgive” everything that I had “done” if I chose to come back home with them, so to school, and forget everything that I’ve ever written, performed...”

“They said that??”

The young man remained silent, but instead nuzzled further into you.

“They said that they could arrange for a meeting with their legal team to finalize it in as little as two days if I decide to do it. Those assholes expedited the whole process and called up their lawyers to make it happen as quick as possible...”

“Bin...” You cooed, and smoothed up and down his back. Being close to him like this you could nearly feel his own heart breaking in his chest against yours.

“Do I forget everything that I was to chase this...dream? Or do I go back, get their support, live a normal life...”

“--Stop.” You gently pushed his hand away to look up at him. “This, all of this is your life Changbin. It’s what you’ve worked hard for relentlessly and it’s what makes you happy, isn’t it? Yeah, it’s harder to do, but you’ve gotten so far, people love you! You’ve made a name for yourself, people want to hear your music--”

“--Yeah, my names gotten itself out there a little too well for my parent’s opinions.”

You wiped a tear cascading from one of his exhausted eyes. “They should be proud of you, not trying to suppress you.”

“They...don’t want me to be Changbin any more. Do you know how that feels? I’ve lived my whole life being me and now they just want to take away the very last thing that I have that they didn’t touch?” He stifled a sob.

“Hey! Just because you change it on paper, doesn’t mean we have to call you that!” You laughed out gently, “If you want to get a driver’s license or something it might be important...but, you’re always going to be Changbin to me, and Minho and everyone else who knows you. A name is just a word. You make up who you really are.”

Changbin laughed out, then returned his hand to pat at your head.

“Who told you to say that?”

You chuckled back at the way that he had turned your words back on you. “No one.”

“I’m just me, but...” Under the covers, your legs intertwined. “I think that if we compare a life of missed oppurtunties to a life where you leave a couple things behind, its worth leaving.”

Body heat swirled between the two of you, and it was as calming as a song. Changbin brought his hand down to caress the side of your cheek with as much gentleness one would with those fragile snowflakes.

Past his shoulder, your eye caught a small piece of paper that had been pasted to the wall above his desk: right in a space where he could see it if he had sat at his desktop. It was crinkled and held several creases and the lead that had been used to draw on it had smudged as if it had rubbed up against itself.

It was a picture of a bench, some Christmas lights, and the city skyline behind it.

Tears flooded your eyes, and then fell freely onto his his fingers where he held your face. They caught in the corners of your mouth, and heated up your eyes.

“Woah, hey, what is it?” Changbin rubbed away the wet and pulled you even closer to him.

“Y-you kept it?” Your voice wavered.

“Kept what?”

You pointed a shaking finger to your drawing posted on the wall, and his eyes widened at first like he was embarrassed, then he slowly faded into something much softer.

He nearly whispered the words, “Of course.”

“W-why?”

“It reminded me of you and that night. I think that I realized something then.”

“What’s that?” He wiped your tears once more, stretching the skin of your face as he did so.

“I realized that, well...I’m in over my head here.” He laughed out lightly. “Do you need me to say it again? I love you a fuck ton, alright? Getting over things, and healing from things...it’s not easy. You...don’t have to apologize for the mess of things and what it did to you. It’s not your fault.”

You threw your head into the crook of his neck to sob openly. But I hurt you. I made you wait...I-I don’t wait you to wait any longer.”

“And I made you wait too. My stupid...my parents fucked me up too, and I couldn’t get over the fact that this fucking mess that they made of me put a wedge between me and you. I didn’t feel like you deserved...I’m a mess too. A fucking nervous, cocky bastard at times and I don’t know how to talk about it. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“What?? No--”

“You wanna call it even then?” He grinned out, and it was his sly little smile that you had found yourself thinking of after you had seen it for the first time those months ago.

“I--”

“Damn. It does feel kinda good to talk about things.” He joked.

You cried out his name even harsher, then melted into his whole body. He was boundless in the way that he had understood you, and how he had looked you without condition or pause.

You don’t have to be scared any more.

With your face muffled in the fabric of his shirt, you let the words fly of your tongue with reckless abandon, and it felt as if you had finally been rid of the crushing shroud fogging your mind, and chaining your heart.

“I-I want you to be...my Changbin. An-and I want to be--”

“--Wait!” Changbin pulled you back by the shoulders with a new and wild smile on his face that only grew wider by the second. A type of excited panic flamed in his chocolate brown eyes. “Willyoubemygirlfriend???” He said at light speed.

You were confused as to why he had said it as such, but you nodded, finally feeling the sense of respite that you had searched so hard for. “Y-yes?”

Changbin startled you with his sudden crack of laughter, then squeezed you so tight that it became hard to breathe. Once he let go looser, he bowed in deep to press dozens of kisses on your mouth and around it. Most of them missed the mark, but that didn’t matter to him. He only stopped for a couple moments to mutter the words, “I wanted to say it first.” You would’ve laughed had he not been attacking you incessantly with more and more pecks that you struggled to keep up with.

“I-I’m sorry again that I made you wait--”

Changbin rolled his weight over to lean carefully over your body tangled up in the sheets, then kissed away at your lips with “don’t say that’s “ quietly. “Thank you for trusting me.” He said quickly, then returned, pouring out oceans of admiration onto your lips until they felt a little raw. You kissed him back too, and you kissed him like you wanted to spend your whole life holding him back. His blissful little “oh’s” tickled at your lips, and you giggled at the way that they vibrated.

Once you had properly kissed nearly all of the air out of each other’s lungs, you laid back, gasping, and each still a bit bewildered.

“Thank you for trusting me too.” You turned your head to look at him where he lay with quickened breaths quaking his chest.

“When I go through with this name thing, can you...be there?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” He said, barely loud enough for you to hear. His strong hands fell down his shirt which you wore; down to the small of your back where he snuck up the fabric. His fingers tickled at your tiny hairs there.

“I have one more loose end to tie myself. One more place that I need to make peace.”

Changbin nodded.��“Mm. We’ll get through it together.”

To your surprise, Changbin then took to pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his bare chest, then pulled off his pants from his legs a bit awkwardly under the covers.

“W-what are you doing?”

He giggled, then pulled at the hem of your shirt for you to do the same.

“Trust me.” He whispered.

You held his eyes as you did, and your bare skin too met the crinkling edges of the sheets which were a bit colder than you had expected. Changbin watched as you did so with a prideful little grin.

“I-I’m confused.” You hugged your arms over your cold torso.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He merely muttered, uncrossing your arms for him to look at you fully, then pulled you by the under sides of your chin back to his lips. He pulled gently at your bottom lip with his teeth. “Clothes were getting in the way.” He hushed, then set to unhooking your bra behind your back.

“Getting in the way of what?”

“Me being as close to you as I possibly can.”

While he had said the phrase calmly, it still sent heat rising straight to your cheeks.

“I want to hold my love like this for as long as she’ll let me. Can I?”

Your two bodies met in the middle, flush, buzzing with a kind of giddy energy that only heightened the more curious that your hands got eating up each other’s presence.

“As long as you’ll let me do the same.”

You couldn’t quite tell, but it had almost felt as if Changbin had scribbled little invisible messages into the skin of your back.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He answered.

You took his wrist to kiss at the line of a scar that lived there. Naturally, Changbin blushed rosy from the action--then promptly pretended that he just hadn’t.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 32)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: The usual. Soft Ivar, again, hope you don’t mind

A/N: I have nothing to say lol. Idk how I feel about this chapter, but I hope you like it! And thank you for reading!

Ivar’s fingers move up and down the skin your backless dress leaves exposed, trailing over the invisible lines each night and each morning he barely grazes when he helps with the laces of your dress. You noticed, a few dozen repetitions of that simple caress ago, that Ivar lingers for a few fractions of a breath on the burn scars that peek over the right side of your back.

You’re nestled close to his chest, holding onto the amulet of Thor that hangs from his neck, tracing the small details on the metal Mjolnir. It is as easy as breathing, to lay here and bask and forget there’s a world past this.

It doesn’t surprise you, really, that it is so easy to sink into comfortable familiarity, into easy intimacy. It always was.

You found early on strings that tie you together, that make you move seamlessly against one another, both when his temper rises and yours to meet it, and when his walls crumble and you stop pretending yours ever existed.

“Tell me a secret.” Ivar prompts you, and when you lift your eyes you find him already focused on you.

“A secret?”

“I want to know something about you that no one else does.” He states simply, to which you frown.

“You know many things about me no one else knows.”

“One more, then.”

You look into his eyes, pale blue eyes you know by heart by now, and after swallowing past the knot in your throat, you offer,

“Sometimes…sometimes I wish I never returned to Eleusis. I wish I could have come here with my mother, accepted my Fate, lived another life,” You smile, “I wish I could have found you earlier.”

“Do you believe we would have met?”

This time you don’t resist the urge to lean in, to kiss him and delight yourself in the soft sound Ivar breathes over your lips, in the way his eyes always seem to hesitate to open after you kiss him.

Against his lips, with your eyes firmly set on his, you offer another truth you haven’t dared tell a soul,

“Now or then, it wouldn’t make a difference,” You shake your head softly, pressing your brow against his. The weight of how long it has been, how much has changed, since you first heard these very words from him settles in your chest, right before you whisper them, “I believe the Gods sent you to me.”

There are words you cannot utter at the tip of your tongue, and your foolish heart makes you think you see those same words written in Ivar’s eyes.

But the words that would become chains if uttered remain trapped within you, for Ivar steals your breath and your words with a bruising kiss.

He demands entrance to your mouth, which you freely give, and with a whimper you muffle against his lips, he makes you surrender to his kiss. To the heady feeling of his mouth moving over yours, of his tongue dancing with your own; to the electrifying feeling of his hand at the back of your head, of his fingers tightening over your loose hair.

You once told him if we name things, we make them real. You told him real things are dangerous things.

Real things can be broken, real things can be taken from you.

And you think even then he listened, even then he took your words to heart. Because in the urgency of his kiss you feel the edge of desperation you’ve felt for so long.

The need for more time.

____

Later that night, when your heart has been allowed reprieve and it settles back to a normal pace, you lay in the darkened room on your back, Ivar’s head resting on your chest, his arm solid and warm around you, his breaths making a thrill run down your spine every time they caress the top of your breasts.

You’ve known for a long time you want him, you’ve known for almost as long that Ivar wants you too.

Yet, because of what life and what its cruelty made out of him, because of what he made out of himself by building those walls; he stops himself, he stops you.

There’s no end to your desire to kiss him, to touch him, to draw each and every sound you can from his lips. And it seems Ivar shares the sentiment.

But there’s something to be said about the intimacy that grows when you share your life with someone for months before even daring to give yourself to them, and to your doom or your salvation, Ivar and you are capable of reading each other very well.

And so you notice when the quickened breaths no longer mean desire, but fear, but apprehension, but the desire to step back. And so you notice when his need for breath is not one he can satiate while you press kisses down the column of his throat, but one he needs to fulfill by holding you at bay, by grasping your hands and keeping them from exploring.

And you understand, you truly do. And you do not wish to push him, you do not wish to be yet another experience he will years later still feel the burn of humiliation from. But you do have the feeling it is Ivar’s mind, and his insecurities, and his past; what’s stopping him, and not his body.

Because you may not be the most experienced of women, but you are quite sure you can distinguish a man’s arousal when it presses against you as you straddle him.

Still, you stop when he tells you to, you step back when he needs you to.

And as he steals your breath with hungry and demanding kisses, or with the softest touch of his mouth on yours, you try to ignore the pool of want low on your stomach that burns you from the inside; and as you hear him make a soft sound of pleasure against your lips, or whimpers your name in a shaky breath, you try to stop yourself from making him do it again and again and again.

Because for as many times he makes you stop and step back, he brings you back to him, tugs you closer and claims your mouth, drags hungry lips down your neck, lets curious hands wander and touch and grasp.

And you might lose your mind soon.

Still, much like what life has been for you since Fate took you to Ivar’s side, in between whirlwinds of chaos that steal your breath, there’s times of calm where you can forget there’s a world past him.

“What do you think could have been?” He starts, and you don’t think you’ll ever cease to be marveled at this new softness in his voice, this tranquility born out of feeling safe and…and loved. Gods, you can’t say it, but you hope he knows. “If you had come here instead of Greece.”

You whisper how you don’t know who you’d be if you didn’t have two strings of Fate tugging you each on a different direction, and Ivar gives you the answer as if it were simple.

“I could have been happy.” You reply without hesitation.

Ivar’s answering smile is tired, but strangely bitter.

“You know, one of the last things my father told me was that happiness was nothing.”

You frown, “Do you agree with him?”

“I don’t know,” He confesses, settling better in his place, almost nuzzled against the column of your throat. “I don’t know what…what happiness feels like. If it feels like…this, it is…

His words die, and you stay silent, feeling him take a deep breath. Ivar moves the arm that was a familiar weight over your waist, and extends his hand to grasp for your own, intertwining your fingers. You notice his gaze focused on the contrast of his hand against your own, before he speaks again, voice hushed,

“It is terrifying.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him admit to being afraid of something. You dare think it is the first time anyone has heard him admit to the existence of something that can terrify him.

It breaks at something within you that that something is something as simple, something as natural and as vital as happiness.

“It doesn’t have to be.” You whisper hoarsely, and you let your hand caress his hair, his shoulders, his back, wherever you can reach.

Much like earlier tonight, only this time you trace over the muscles of his shoulders not to delight yourself in the way you can make him tense and tremble under your touch, but instead hoping for the release of tension and the return of peace; you press firmly on his skin not so that you reassure yourself of what is yours, but so that he can be reassured you are there.

Ivar only hums in response, but doesn’t answer.

You close your eyes, leaning your cheek against the top of his head, for a few moments of weakness lingering in the world that could have been.

____

The dawn breaks before you’re ready for it to, finds you straddling Ivar’s hips and your hands moving with your words as you tell him of Constantinople and the wonders within it.

“They’d look at us strangely. What a pair, I suppose, the Varangian shieldmaiden and the Attic healer,” You chuckle at your own memories, “We’d speak in your language just to make them fearful.”

“You spoke in a language the Saxons understood and they still feared you.”

“Feared me?”

“Stithulf didn’t surrender you to me out of the kindness of his heart.” Ivar reminds you, bringing a softer smile to your lips.

“What a pair we make, then. The Viking King and the Greek witch.”

Ivar’s lips curve into a smile as well. A little bloodthirsty, but they always are.

And because you can, because in the few breaths that go by with his eyes on yours you find your heart quickening, because in the way his hands trail from your thighs up you know he feels the same; you lean down and capture his lips on yours.

When you pull back, you meet Ivar’s eyes and allow yourself to get lost in his smile. You don’t think in all the time you’ve been here you’ve seen him smile like this. Free, open, vulnerable.

Your hands find support on his chest, but you only have eyes for that smile. Not the Gods themselves could stop you from draping yourself over his body, capturing his mouth and tasting that smile on your tongue, feeling it pressed against your lips, hear it the soft little sound Ivar muffles against your kiss.

You pull back again, because you have to. Your hands on either side of his head, his strong body pliant and trusting underneath yours, his hair wild and mussed by your fingers, his lips still bearing the mark of your kiss, his eyes dark and hungry, his skin bearing the reddish tint of your effect on him.

Your breath stutters past your lips, and Gods, your heart will never settle to a normal pace after this. You aren’t going to be able to return to life as it was before this. Before him.

Whatever it is you are to say is quietened by the knock on the door. You move to get off your husband, but Ivar’s hands are firm on your legs, keeping you astride him.

He cranes his head back, and yells, “What!?”

“Ivar!” You hiss, looking at the door with wide eyes.

He dismisses your concerns with a soft squeeze of his hand on your thigh, “They won’t come in.”

They came in.

“You’re keeping y-…” Hvitserk stops, and his smile turns devious, “Well, good morning.”

“What do you want?” Ivar presses, but still keeps his hands on your legs, keeping you in your place. You could swear they even creep higher, settling on the curve of your ass.

Hvitserk keeps his eyes carefully trained on his brother, “Whitehair told me he isn’t going with you.”

“He isn’t. He and some of his men will stay here.”

In the moment Ivar and Hvitserk’s eyes meet, you have a feeling there’s a silent message relayed that you have no way if deciphering.

You frown down at Ivar, forgetting for a moment you’re supposed to want to move.

“Surely you don’t think I’m planning on leaving Kattegat.”

Ivar works his jaw, but ultimately shakes his head, “No, but there might be a few fools out there planning on making you leave this world.”

“What?”

“He’s right,” Hvitserk quips, and when you frown his way, you find him looking down at the floor, focused on pointedly not looking at you. “You need someone watching your back. They wouldn’t be bold enough to try something while Ivar and the army is here, but…”

“I’m safe here, you’re with me,” You insist, eyes on Hvitserk even if he doesn’t look at you. Looking back at Ivar, you whisper, “I don’t need your guards.”

Ivar turns his eyes to you, and narrows his eyes, “Don’t argue.”

“When has telling me that ever worked?” You ask him, incredulous.

Hvitserk clears his throat, and insists, “We need to know who will go in Whitehair’s stead.”

“You choose them, brother,” Ivar states simply, motioning with his head, “This is your plan, I trust you to know the right men for it.”

It surprises you a bit, and you have no doubt it surprises Hvitserk, but he doesn’t dwell on it, murmuring a few words and taking his leave.

“You can’t seriously intend to keep your best warriors with me, Ivar.” You start as soon as the door closes behind the Prince.

Ivar grits his teeth, and lets his head fall back against the pillows.

“It is done. Now get off me, we have a day to get on with.”

“Don’t dismiss me,” You accuse, affronted. Ivar gives you a look that tells you this is your last opportunity to back down, and you almost want to ask him when that glare actually worked on you. “I will not be-…ah!”

Ivar’s hands tighten on your waist, and he lifts you with ease, throwing you off him and leaving you to land on your side of the bed with a huff.

You look at him with wide eyes, with quickened breaths that have nothing to do with the surprise. You’ve felt under your own hands the strength of his shoulders, of his arms, of his back; ever since you arrived here you’ve let your eyes wander and your thoughts get away from you, but…Gods, it is something else entirely to see his strength in full display, to have him lift you like you weigh nothing, to feel the muscles of his arms and chest working.

“Ivar!” You complain, but he ignores you. He sits up, broad back turned to you, not sparing a second thought to the absolutely impure thoughts that are running through your mind at the display of strength.

Your traitorous eyes follow his arm, his shoulder blades, as he grips the chains dangling over the bed and moves his body out of the bed. As you watch him, you can’t help but despise the shirt he still wears.

You realize, almost affronted, almost offended, that you’ve never seen his bare chest. You wonder if he has ink traces, you wonder…

Gods, you’re hopeless.

Your head falls back against the pillows, and you close your eyes with a shaky sigh.

____

The feast to send off the warriors that will go raid Strepshire starts earlier in the day than previous ones. Once, you would have been naïve enough to believe that meant it would end earlier too.

You stand at his side when he raises his voice, addresses your people about the upcoming battle and what they are to ask the Gods to grant them, both across the sea and once they return, once the bitter winter settles upon Kattegat. You raise your cup alongside his, thank the people before you with a bow of your head and a smile; and take a seat on a throne that has never felt as welcoming.

Eventually, night progresses and you mingle amongst the people you know and those you don’t, and you find yourself in a small moment of seclusion, looking over the feast with a tranquil smile on your lips.

Your husband’s voice draws your attention to where he sits surrounded by his warriors and shieldmaidens, hand on Hviterk’s shoulder as they talk and laugh.

You cannot keep your eyes off him, watching with a smile on your lips as he addresses his men. You truly cannot believe he sometimes doesn’t see the way he inspires them, the way they admire him, the way his words light fires in the hearts of his warriors and his shieldmaidens.

Ivar is finishing strong words to his people when his eyes meet yours across the room. With the word these Norsemen have for a toast on their lips, the people around him honor him with raised cups. He answers their toast with his own, but his eyes remain on yours.

Smile widening in pride and something far more foolish, you raise your own cup, quietly, just for him, and drink as well.

“You’re drooling, witch.” Valdis’ voice startles you, and you turn your eyes away from the King and towards her. She laughs, heavy hand on your shoulder, and you answer only with a roll of your eyes even as a small chuckle leaves your lips.

She holds you to her side and walks you to the women of the apothecary, who greet you with smiles that you return and a few knowing glances that you pretend to ignore.

When the ruckus dies down you once again find your way back to Ivar, sitting by his side with your head on his shoulder and your eyes on the dancing flames a few feet away.

You could close your eyes and surrender to sleep like this, you realize. After almost not sleeping the previous night, the familiar hum of Ivar’s voice as he talks with Hvitserk lulls you into safety.

Still, you stay awake, masking a yawn with a kiss to his shoulder and wondering when it became as easy as breathing to move with him, around him, as if you were tied by the same string. When it became as familiar as the feeling of safety and peace in your chest and yet remained as thrilling and electrifying as running to cross over that stream in Eleusis.

After a while you find yourself thinking once again about what’s to come tomorrow, and all those days after.

Your fingers skim over his forearm silently until Ivar turns his hand around, and lets you intertwine his fingers with your own.

“About your guards…” You start, but the Viking sighs, interrupting you.

“Not this again.”

“I am not the one going to war, Ivar. I don’t need guards.”

He settles better in his seat, turning most of his body towards you and regarding you with stubborn exasperation.

“You’re grown too used to getting your way,” He states, to which you only answer with an incredulous look. Still, he pushes on, “But this isn’t something you’ll make me change my mind on.”

“Have I made you change your mind before?” You taunt with a smirk, stupidly delighted in the way he rolls your eyes at you. After a breath, you lean even closer and insist, “Love, listen to me, I-…”

You realize what you’ve said, and choke on your own words. Your eyes are wide when they meet his, and for a second you dare hope he hasn’t noticed.

But, of course, he has. Ivar stares at you in stunned silence for a few breaths, but he shakes it off before you do.

He leans closer, presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth,

“I’m listening, but I’m not changing my mind…love.” His smile is devious, and mocking, and irresistible, and Gods, you’re going to learn to regret ever giving in, aren’t you?

Forcing your eyes to stop giving in to the allure of his mouth, you return your gaze to him.

“Why is now any different than when you went to defend Dublin?”

“Because I knew I was going to return quickly when we went to Dublin.”

“You won’t spend winter away from Kattegat.” You state, stubborn.

Ivar leans closer again, kisses you before insisting against your lips, “It is smart to consider all possibilities, you know that.”

“You still d-…” Your words are muffled against his lips when he kisses you again, and when he leans back you say, “You can’t shut me up by doing that.”

“I can try.”

He kisses you again, and again, and again, each time more passionately than the last. Ivar’s teeth close teasingly over your bottom lip, and he soothes the sting with a flick of his tongue. It draws from you a soft little sound that is muffled against his mouth, he seals a pleased smile against your lips.

You pull back with quickened breaths and hold the advancing Viking back with a hand on his throat.

Your husband only smiles, eyes dark in a way that makes a thrill run down your spine, and leans closer still, forcing your hand to press tighter against his throat, daring you.

“Behave.” You warn him, only half-serious, the words quiet even if your wide and stupid smile bares every truth.

But there’s a glint in his eye, an openness in his smile, that makes you give in, that makes you use that hand you still have holding onto his throat to cup his jaw and bring his lips to yours.

Because he looks happy.

Because you close your eyes, and you still feel the weight of his body and of his pain against you, you can still hear the almost fragile whisper of I don’t know what…what happiness feels like. If it feels like this…

And you understand what it was that made Lord Hades tear the earth in two.

____ ____ ____

We’ll get back to regular programming soon, they’ll put their feet back on the ground and realize there’s still Christians to kill and choices to make soon; just let me write a soft and happy Ivar for a bit okay?

And a lil bit of a change: I have been uploading every tuesday and every saturday lately, but I’m going to go back to one update a week on saturdays from now on. Extra chapters, alternate PoV’s, that sort of stuff, it will come out on tuesdays, but not every week. I have other stuff to work on (and post) and a new project I might start posting on tuesdays very soon. Hope you don’t mind!

Thank you for reading, I would love to know what you think! Love you all!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist

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