#but he just looked at me with judgement in his eyes and said nothing in response 😔 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livfastdieyoung69 · 3 days

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We both need punk x reader x drew so im just sliding this in front of you and waving it aggressively

Punkinytre x reader where they fight for your attention and you just kinda live for it

MENAGE A TRIOS

(Cm Punk x Gn!Kinda bratty!Reader x Drew Mcintyre)

You had always been quite close to Drew ever since his return to the WWE. You had been in NXT together for a short amount of time, and you got to spend plenty of time with him. Drew was probably one of the sweetest men on the roster, especially when you both moved to the Smackdown roster and had to put up with many big egos. The way he looked after his comeback made him not only great to be around, but great to look at. He had always been on the more handsome side, but the filled-in beard, and improved and much bigger muscles made his babyface disappear, and goddamn did he look good. Considering your many years of…friendship, it was a little nerving to see him so out to get Jey Uso that he offered to help The Judgement Day during War Games. He knew your feelings about TJD, and sure, he apologized and said it was nothing but business but it was kinda out of character for him. Even more than your displacement for TJD, you were great friends with the entire other team.

Also that night, directly after Drew’s loss, which you had made your way to the Guerilla to comfort him for, TV static and guitar hit the speakers and a man you hadn’t seen for many years, walked through the curtains. A man you held very close to your heart, just as close as Drew. You had a pretty similar relationship with him too. Around the start of COVID, WWE hadn’t been doing so well and neither was your career. You’d gotten a couple of calls from a new wrestling company looking to make it big and took a chance. With that chance, your career grew massively, enough to eventually make a great return to WWE just six short months ago, and your relationships grew too. You were held to higher standards in the locker room and looked upon as wrestling loyalty. One of the men who helped you achieve that was the one who just made the arena shake, made the wrestling community break in damn half, the CM Punk.

As much as you wanted to run out into the arena, to grab ahold of Punk and hug Drew, tell him everything would be okay, you unfortunately had to stay back. You stood with a good part of the production crew, as well as HHH himself, the man who had brought you back, who watched you practically shake in your excitement as the main eventers started to pour into the room.

Drew was one of the first to stomp into the Guerrilla, angrily making his way towards you. As much as you wanted to give him the whole ‘I told you so!’ speech, he didn’t look up to it, so instead you settled for balancing on your tippy toes and hugging as close as you could reach around his armpits- two things about Drew had never changed since you met him. His kindness towards you, and his height, the man was a damn beanstalk.

“You’ll get em’ next time, D, you did great! I’m sure it was Dominik’s fault, anyway.” You rub his back, giving him a little pat while he breathes out a sad chuckle into your shoulder. Before you begin to try to pull away from him, you catch a glimpse of the curtain moving one final time, prying your eyes from Drew’s pouting face. You aren’t able to help the scream that leaves you as you practically push Drew off you.

“OhmyGod, Phil!” He watches you rush towards him with a glint in his eye and the same grin he always greeted you with, arms opening to hold you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back!” You’re all but yelling into his ear, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He just laughs down at you, rubbing your back like you had done to Drew, who is now stomping his way to his dressing room and pouting even more.

“Couldn’t ruin the surprise now, could I?” The cheeky son of a bitch hadn’t told anyone but HHH, whom Phil had made it clear to that he was allowed to tell the whole roster except for you. Hunter just so happened to decide not to tell anyone. You’re just about climbing up him while he sways the two of you, stumbling away from the curtain entrance to get out of the way of the staff.

“I’m so glad you're back, Phil.” You muttered into his chest, covered by a new CM Punk Chicago flag shirt, just about in tears. “God, I missed you.”

His hand is placed on the back of your head, squeezing you tightly once last time with his other arm before pulling away an arm's length. He keeps his hands on your elbows, thumbs gently feathering across your skin. “I missed you too, Champ.” You didn’t even have a championship at the moment, but that was what he’d called you since your first meeting in AEW. You held the FTW Championship for most of your time with the company, passing it onto Hook when it was your time to leave in a brilliant FTW Rules Match after holding it for over two years.

Since the heartwarming (for you) return of Phil, things between you and Drew were…different. He huddled closer to you when showing you pictures of his adorable black cat Chaz, or grabbing you by the hip and dragging his fingertips up and down your side when he catches you in the hall. It's even worse when he spots you around Phil, which you usually are, he’ll wrap himself around you from behind and refuse to let go. Then again, Phil seemed to do the same thing around McIntyre. He had been touchy like that in AEW though, so you didn’t chalk it up to anything. But sometimes, you start to second guess if maybe you should chalk it to something.

Like the time you’d been waiting to get your hair fixed before your match with Phil in the chair next to you, scooched until you were maybe a foot apart. The two of you had been giggling at pictures of Larry when Drew stalked up behind you, kilt in one hand while dressed for the ring, bringing his other arm to rest just above your chest. You looked up from Phil's phone in surprise, feet pausing in their soft kicks against the bottom metal of the chair.

“Oh, hey, Drew.” You give him a grin while shutting your phone off and squeezing the warm muscles of his tricep. He gives you a warm smile through the mirror in return, scooching in closer and giving you a quick, barely touching kiss on the head.

“Hey, sweetheart. Have you seen Brittany?” He places his kilt, the blue one, on the arm of your chair. You shake your head, letting out a ‘nuhuh’.

“Why, what's the matter?” You ask, confusion and concern painting against your face as you turn to face him, his arm falling to your shoulder. Brittany was one of the few medical personnel that traveled with the roster, and the nicest one. Most people went to her if they had the choice. “You’re not feelin' good?” You stand from your chair and quickly circle it to place your hand on his forehead. Too worried about him, you didn’t notice the smug look he sent Punk or the snare he received. He takes your wrist and gently prys you from his forehead.

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet thing. Just a bit of a headache, that's all.” Another thing about Drew, he had picked up a recent thing for nicknames. Like, really, really cute ones that usually have you battering your eyelashes, but you were too worried for that at the moment.

“Well, why didn’t you say something? C’mon, Brits busy, y’know I’ve always got some medicine in my bag.” You tugged him along with a quick reassurance to Phil that you’d be right back, once again missing the look Drew gave him over his shoulder.

Or the time you had been walking the halls towards catering with Drew, laughing so hard at something he had said it forced you to stop and wrap around his arm so you wouldn’t bend your knees. They’d been feeling a little sore and Brittany had suggested stretching and trying not to use them as much as you could. Drew had even offered to carry you to catering, but you wouldn’t let him. Maybe after your match. Anyways, you’re pressed against Drew who's looking down at you like the love-sick puppy he (and Phil) is, when you’re moment is interrupted.

“Hey, there you are, Champ!” Phil is jogging up from some random hallway that cuts through the one you were currently in. You slip from Drew's grasp as you look over at the sound of Phil’s echoing voice. You greet him with a warm smile and a short, warming hug. Phil was always warm, you could remember the first time you met- he pulled you into a friendly side-hug, radiating warmth physically and emotionally.

“You’ve been looking for me?” You ask him while Drew leans against the cold, white-painted brick wall behind the two of you. With your back to him, you couldn’t see him smoldering in his new spot.

“Well, I figured,” Punk starts, looking at you teasingly while he takes off his cotton zip-up jacket, printed with his iconic fists and the Chicago flag. “Knowing you, you’d dress for the outside weather and not the weather in here, of where we will be all day.” The arenas were always freezing, but you always forgot and instead dressed for whatever season it was, so, in turn, you were always freezing too. Phil throws his jacket around your shoulders and you’re quick to pull your arms through the sleeves.

“Ugh, you’re a lifesaver! I’ve been freezing all day, I keep putting off my warm-ups.” You rattle off as you hug it close to you, the fabric holding onto the remnant of his warmth.

“Anytime, babe.” That was a new one. You weren’t usually a fan of the term, but from him…it just fit, from him. “Hey, let me know when you decide to do those warm-ups, I’ll come and find you again, yeah?” You nod and bring him into another small hug while he gives your cheek a small kiss before saying goodbyes. Of course, you don’t notice this either, but Drew won’t stop staring at you bundled up in another man's, let alone Punks, clothes all night long.

Moments like those, really do make you look back and question everything. The jealous? glances anytime you’ve somehow obtained the others’ jacket, merch, or even just an ounce of the others' time. The names don’t help either. Neither do the kisses, and hugs, and constant, never-ending praise. Now that you thought about it, it couldn’t be more obvious that they both had a thing for you. But when you really stopped, and really thought, it was kinda great! I mean, C’mon! Two great, very handsome guys who were constantly fighting for your attention and also a little fruity with each other? What could possibly be better? Even with your new revolutionary thought, sometimes you still doubted yourself.

Until the one day, when about half of the roster was stuck in the airport in a delay, and to make it worse, it was pretty late and the airport was tiny. All the stores and restaraunts were closed, and you weren’t allowed to leave cause there was no way back in. You’d been stuck in the terrible, flimsy chairs, freezing your ass off for atleast half an hour. Just like the arenas, you always forget to dress for airport weather. You’d been sitting with Naomi and her husband Jimmy, who Jey was tagging along with. The trio could always make you laugh.

Drew had been the first to approach, plopping his duffel into the seat next to you, quick to notice you just about shivering in your spot, beginning to ruffle around in his bag for something you could wear. You’re attention had been on the twins and the never-ending jokes they send back and forth when the soft material draped over your shoulders, so you assumed it was Drew. The twins’, following in the footsteps of Naomi, laughter stops as they look over you before quickly looking away awkwardly as if they were intruding. The three’s actions confuse you, but Drew’s big hand gently peeling the jacket from you and replacing it with a different one does so even more.

You finally look behind you, finding Drew and Phil glaring at each other while this time Phil removes the jacket, replacing it with his again.

“I put it there first.”

“I got here first.”

Drew rebukes, reaching to take the hoodie off of you for a third time before you twist to face the both of them, Phil's hoodie falling from your back either way. Clearly, the whole fighting thing was working on a first come, first serve thing but it seemed to finally catch up. Even with you out of reach, the two continue in their bickering, Phil even rounding your chair to get in Drew's face.

Now, the whole fighting over you thing was great when you were benefiting from it. Now, you were freezing and they kept torturing you with an ounce of warmth and taking it away and they just kept arguing and getting louder through your attempts to stop them, there was no benefit to any of this at all. Jimmy and Naomi were whispering under their breath and Jey was pretending that something was important on his phone’s home screen. God, why did they even have to argue, couldn’t you just have two boyfriends? Who said you can’t have them both?….Actually, why couldn’t you?

“Hello??” You finally yell and stand, now between them, annoyed at being ignored. You pull Drew’s hoodie from his grasp and take Phils off the back of your chair. “It’s great that you both want me and everything, cause I totally want you too, so can’t we all just chill for a second?” You take your seat again, curling up while pulling Phil’s hoodie on and placing Drew’s over your lap considering Drews was bigger. Your The boys look down at you in confusion while you get comfy.

“Wha..wait, wait. Who are you talking to, you want me or Drew?” Phil speaks up first. You look back up at him, completely exasperated, so much so your face makes Naomi burst into laughter way louder than she meant (All three of them are trying too hard to keep it together).

“Both of you, dummy! Who said I couldn’t have the best of both worlds?” When no one speaks up, your hands wave around before falling back to your lap. “Exactly. And don’t pretend like ya’ll don't look at each other either, I’ve seen everything you do on TV.” They blush at your accusation, but before Drew tries to defend himself you speak up again, grabbing both of their hands. “Now, c’mere, I’m cold.” You tug them forward, each falling into the seats beside you.

You turn to lean into Punk's neverending heat, curling up against his heat while shoving your feet into Drew’s lap. Theres still tension in the two of them, along with the three across from you, but as time passes and silence washes over it seems like everyone realizes maybe they did have no reason to fight. Drew breaks the silence with a scoff, his hand running up and down the back of his leg.

“You’re a bit of a brat, eh?” He teases you, eyebrows raised with a grin.

“Oh, gets whatever they want, this one,” Phil responds before you can, the arm around you going up to gently slide under your chin. “Just now noticing?”

“Wow, alright. I see how it is. No excuse to fight each other so we’re taking it out on me now, huh? I get it-“ You raise your hands in fake defense, moving to get up from your seat but they both pull you back down with noises of denial. You fall into laughter, the boys quickly following shortly before silence returns for a moment. You turn away, looking at the screen to see if there's any new information on the delay.

“Think you’ll be able to put up with the both of us?” Punk mutters against your head. You scoff, your hand coming up to hold his as you search for your flight on the screen.

“You think this is amateur hours or somethin’? I’ve put up with the both of you for years, seems like no one else can handle one of you, let alone two.” Your sock-padded foot prods against Drew's thighs, his grip on your leg tightening for a second in response as he looks over at you fondly. He pulls your other hand out from under his jacket, putting it in his before placing a kiss on it.

“Seems like you’re stuck with us then, lover.” Drew speaks with an all-knowing smirk as you turn bashful (those damn nicknames and that damn accent, ugh!).

You respond with a muttering of ‘Guess So’, falling back against Phil after finding your plane and seeing nothing new. Figuring you’ll be there for a while you do your best to get comfy, and thanks to your boys, it's pretty easy. Even if you weren’t the most conventional…couple? group? and even if the other two acted like they wanted to rip each other's heads off, it worked, no matter what. In every universe, you worked, no matter what.

i hate the ending but i need this out its getting ridicolous and im not reading ts over AGAIN either way it isn’t as much as i thought it was i was just fr dragging my feet through this like i love it but i just dont wanna do anything

im sick :( i havent been productive in like weeks so i figured id finally do something while im finally at home and i have nothing else to do lol.

i miss my man jeffrey and in the time that ive been doing nothing my attraction to weird little freaks has started to dominate even more over like.. normal? people? girl idk im losing my mind someone give me freak(i went to a rob zombie concert oohhh i need that man so baddddd)

anyways…enjoy ig oh also i literally just looked up throuple cuz i was stuck on a title and that was the first thing that poppedup and it made me giggle so

#liv writes;*!#wwe #wwf #gn!reader #drew mcintyre x reader #cm punk x reader #drew mcintyre #cm punk #drew mcintyre x cm punk #just a lil but i cant not #drew mcintyre x reader x cm punk #cm punk x reader x drew mcintyre #wwe x reader

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felix-the-lemon-king · 1 year

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#asking bc I was draining some olives and told this guy next to me that I really like the smell #expecting that he would also agree that the smell of olives is wonderful and we'd have a great time bonding over this #or maybe even banter with me about how olives smell bad and I am insane and strange #but he just looked at me with judgement in his eyes and said nothing in response 😔#so I have to ask tumblr now #anyway I can't remember smells so I'm jotting this memory down in list of smells I apparently enjoy for later lol

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churipu · 6 months

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OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.

note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.

"'toru, do you think i look—"

gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.

"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."

gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.

the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.

his comment made you break a small smile.

"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.

"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.

a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"

the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.

nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.

"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).

but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."

groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."

nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.

"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."

he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."

you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"

"pepper spray."

"check."

"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."

"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.

"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

"y/n, do you — oh, wow."

yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.

you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"

yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"

shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"

he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.

"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"

yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.

mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."

he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.

all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.

"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.

"any movies?"

you nod, "any movies."

"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori fluff #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader

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all4yoi · 1 month

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𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )

sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.

part one !

★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )

"y/n wait!"

heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.

"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.

he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.

"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.

heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.

when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.

it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.

they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!

so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.

he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.

he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.

he needed to fix this, asap.

it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.

"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.

"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.

you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.

"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."

"why would they say that then?"

"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.

heeseung stepped closer.

"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.

"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."

you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.

he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'

"heeseung.."

"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."

you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.

"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.

"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.

"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."

★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )

jay was confused.

the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.

he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.

throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.

walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.

"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"

that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.

"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.

"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.

he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.

jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.

he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.

your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."

jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.

"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.

"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.

"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.

this way he knew how he'd make things better.

"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.

right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?

"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.

he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.

"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"

you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.

"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.

jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.

"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."

"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."

new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.

"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.

"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.

"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."

★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )

jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.

he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.

"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.

jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.

he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.

it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.

but jokes were meant to be funny, right?

jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.

your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.

"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.

"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.

jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.

and he hated that.

"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."

"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.

"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.

"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"you promise?"

"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)

sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.

it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.

it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.

that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.

guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.

he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.

i deserve it.

he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.

"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.

"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"

sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.

"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.

"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.

"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.

"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."

your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."

"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.

"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."

— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki

— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(

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tasteracha · 10 months

Text

strawberry cake

word count: 1.3k

warnings: afab!reader, reader x jisung, consensual somnophilia, smut - MINORS DNI.

synopsis: jisung fucks you in your sleep idk there's no other plot here

i’m wet and you’re not home to help me

i’m going to bed

don’t wake me up when you get back

(i’m wearing the shorts)

11:09 pm

these are the texts jisung was met with when he finally got a chance to look at his phone. it was almost midnight, his muscles hurt beyond compare and his eyelids felt like lead when he tried to blink, but the simple message that you had sent him made his entire body sing in excitement.

it wasn’t often that you allowed him this - you liked to be awake to watch his features morph in ecstasy when he first sank into you, wanted to witness the way his eyes rolled back into his head when he came. today was a different case though; you genuinely were tired, and you knew that even if you tried to stay awake for him that you would fall asleep halfway through, and wouldn’t that be a kick to jisung’s self esteem?

so you created this system of sorts. a pair of sleep shorts that you bought that was in a color you never usually wore, just so there was no chance of confusion. a signal that jisung was allowed to do whatever he wanted to you, whether or not you were awake - when you first brought it up to him he was apprehensive, but neither one of you could ignore the way his cock jumped in his boxers at the idea.

just like it was now, as he was rushing through packing his bag so he could make it home to you. he makes it home in what must be a record breaking time, nearly sweating in excitement the entire way. if he got any judgemental looks from the way he bumped into people as he sped by, he didn’t notice, too focused on his goal to give them a sparing thought.

your body was a lump under the comforter when he finally approached you, blankets pulled around you like a cocoon so only your face was still visible. he almost felt bad at the thought of having to remove you from the warmth, but his neediness won over it.

he takes his clothes off hastily, shivering when the cold air hit his feverish skin, but he paid it no mind - there was one thing running through his thoughts right now and it was making his dick harden at an alarming rate.

he kneels on the side of the bed, peeling back the comforter just to make sure the shorts were still on - they were, of course they were. you wouldn’t tease him like that, but even when you were asleep your consent was important. he wouldn’t do anything to betray your trust.

you weren’t a light sleeper, which worked to his benefit. the cold air didn’t cause you to stir at all even though you were clad in a old bralette and skimpy shorts. he could see the outline of your nipples hardening through the fabric of your bralette, though, and he couldn’t resist from reaching towards them to rub at them with his thumbs. if awake, you would have shivered and whined, sensitivity ruling over your impulses, but now you don’t react at all. it was like you were a doll, and if your chest wasn’t rising and falling with your breaths he might believe that you were.

if his cock wasn’t hard before, it certainly was now.

he couldn’t resist from stopping to look at you, a rare thing that you don’t usually allow him to do when you were awake. his eyes roamed from the curve of your nose to the dark circles under your eyes to the plush bow of your lips, features completely relaxed. you’re beautiful. his hand moves up to your face, cupping it gently and moving it towards him so he could press a gentle kiss to your forehead. even though you didn’t feel it, he wanted you to know that he loves you.

god, he loves you so much.

you let out a soft snuff of breath when he grazes his hands over your hips and he freezes, watching your features carefully until he was sure that they remained soft with sleep. while he wouldn’t mind you being awake, that wasn’t part of the plan. you had said not to wake you up, and he was nothing if not obedient.

he pulls your shorts down to reveal your bare pussy, panties left off and a wet patch glistening on the crotch of your shorts. had you touched yourself before going to bed, thinking of him? did you come, moaning his name and wishing it was on his dick? or did you edge yourself, priming your body for him, making it ready?

either way, the evidence of your arousal was enough to make him snap as he crawls over you, a dangerously possessive look on his face as he finally takes his cock in his hand. he runs the tip of it through your folds, collecting your slick on him, and the feeling of it makes him let out a groan. he lowers his head to your neck as he pushes in, the slide easy from how lax your body was. He let out a shaky breath as he pushed fully into your tight heat as he moves his lips to your pulse point. the slow, rhythmic rush of blood follows through to his hips as he thrusts in small motions, holding himself back from taking you the way he so desperately wanted to.

he took your limp hands in his, intertwining your fingers together before pressing them to the mattress above your head. holding you down, even though you weren’t awake to move regardless. he backs up a bit as he picks up his rhythm, focusing on the tiny furrow of your brow and the way your mouth twisted up in pleasure.

you were clenching around him without restraint, like your body was unconsciously trying to keep him inside of you. he let go of one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around both of your wrists to keep them in place as his free hand wandered down your body to your clit. he rubbed at it experimentally, gasping when your hips jerked up to meet his automatically. he started a slow rhythm with his fingers as he continued fucking into you. your breaths was coming out in short huffs, lips parting again and again with every one, your body responding to the stimulation in a way your mind likely wasn’t. he wonders what you were dreaming about, if you were; he hopes that it’s about him.

without warning, your body shakes through a helpless orgasm but you remain asleep, eyes fluttering behind your lids. jisung barely has time to spare a thought of how that was even possible before he was hurtling towards his own, the rhythmic clenching of your cunt milking everything out of him until he was barely able to hold himself up over you. he collapses next to you, pressing kiss after kiss to whatever part of your body he could reach, whispering praises to you in between that fell on deaf ears.

when he could stand without his legs feeling like jelly he cleans you up, gently wiping at your dripping hole with a warm washcloth, fixated on the way you clenched on nothing when he passed over your swollen clit. he throws the rag to the side, climbing back over you so he could settle himself at your side and when he looked at you -

your eyes were open.

“how long have you been awake?” jisung asks, blinking at you.

“since you started panting into my neck,” you giggle, reaching for him so you could pull him into your side. “you seemed to like me being asleep though, so i pretended.”

“god, it was so hot,” he says, looking up at you with shiny eyes, embarrassingly fond of you. “what did i do to deserve you?”

“well,” you take his wrist, guiding his hand down towards your stomach. “i can think of a few things you can do now.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #jisung smut #han jisung #stray kids fic

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alastorss · 8 months

Text

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You've never seen Alastor sleep before.

He's always lurking around in shadows—here and there and everywhere at once. But you hardly see him and his toothy grin past his working hours.

Yet here he is, head down on the table. The usual crackling static noise that follows him wherever he goes is missing, making the room eerily quiet. It's so horribly silent that you can hear the faintest shaking of the porcelain cup against the plate.

You'd only meant to bring him a coffee. You didn't mean to intrude on his break.

You're part way through deciding if you should turn and escape while you can—god knows what would happen if he found out you were staring at him while he slept. Maybe he would laugh it off and reassure you with that malicious undertone of his, or maybe he would kill you where you stand. You could never tell with him exactly what he was thinking.

"Well, are you just going to stare at me?"

You freeze, porcelain clinking together as you jolt in your spot.

"I brought you a coffee," you manage to stammer out, placing it down beside his head which is still buried in his arms. "Charlie said you might need one."

Static fills the room again as he opens his mouth, your hairs pricking up and standing on end. "How kind of you," he hums, sounding entirely uninterested.

Finally, he raises his head to look at you. He seems bleary still—completely unlike his normal sharp self. The demon tries to blink the sleep from his eyes, but to your annoyance still has that shit-eating grin plastered ear-to-ear.

Against your better judgement, you ask him: "Are you okay? You seem—"

"Tired. I know," Alastor interrupts, eyes narrowing at your inquisition. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear."

You blink at him a few times, watching as his smile slowly shrinks the longer you remain quiet. He hates this, feeling seen and being fretted over. Loathes it more than anything in Hell.

And, well. He was having quite a nice nap until you woke him up with that incessant shaking. Was he really that terrifying even in such a docile state?

He can feel his smile fading faster and faster, hopes dashed of having the chance to fall asleep again lest he end up vulnerable with you knowing he was unguarded. How terrible.

Only one solution, then.

"Why don't you join me for a siesta?"

You gawk at him, looking absolutely bewildered. "Y-You— huh?"

It would put him at ease to know you were asleep before he is; that you aren't poking your nose around in business you shouldn't be. He could keep you asleep with white noise for as long as he pleased.

"Come, sit."

Alastor kicks the chair opposite of him out from the desk, urging you to take a seat across from him. Hesitantly, you do. It fills him with deep satisfaction that you're trembling as you do, probably only obeying him out of fear.

You're quite amusing, really. Charming in a cute way. You were so forgettable when Charlie decided to take you in, but perhaps he should play with you a little.

He has found this place boring lately. You'd be an excellent way to solve all his problems with that nervous, flustered look on your face.

Alastor's smile bounces back to full size, fangs flashy and alluring as he grins at you.

"Go on," he chuckles, voice breaking with static. "I won't bite."

Oh dear. What have you gotten yourself into?

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin x reader #radio demon #faye's thoughts — ☁

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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months

Text

Steve Harrington x shy fem!reader [4.7K] no one's ever gone down on you before and you're feeling a little shy about it. luckily, boyfriend steve is happy to show you what it's like. 18+

“I’ve never—” you swallowed, unsure of your words, hardly able to make sense of them when Steve Harrington was on his knees in front of you. “I mean, no one’s ever done this to me before.”

Steve Harrington. The Steve Harrington - as if he hadn’t officially been your boyfriend for almost two months now. Sometimes it was difficult to remind yourself of that, that the prettiest boy in town was all yours.

He’d changed since high school, was a little softer around the edges now, if you had the patience to look for the signs. Less cocky, still confident, but he’d dropped the title of ‘King’ like it stung him, taking on a gentlemanly demeanour that was much more princely. His hair wasn’t as styled, he didn’t care whatever other people said - not as much, anyway.

It suited him, this smaller crown. Less showy but still just as golden.

“Oh,” Steve replied, eyes wide with surprise but not judgement. “Shit, honey— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… assume.”

Steve took his hands from your bare knees like he’d been burned, his cheeks heated and his gaze apologetic. You couldn’t say anything in response fast enough before the boy was pushing himself up from the footwell of the BMW and back onto the seat with you. He looked panicked, like he’d done something wrong, like he’d done something terrible.

“Steve—”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, I didn’t even think— well, I just thought—”

“It’s not like I’ve not done anything,” you were rambling. Panicked. “I’m not a virgin, I would’ve told you— it’s just, I haven’t— no guy has ever wanted to do that and—“

“No, no, it’s okay!” Steve still looked wide eyed, like you were going to hate him, like you were going to break up with him. “I mean, that part isn’t okay— the guys you’ve been with should’ve definitely wanted to do that for you— but it’s, it’s… just should’ve asked before—”

He hadn’t done anything wrong, you needed him to know that. It had been a typical end to your night, first dates leading to second dates and more - fancy dinners and planned nights to the cinema and turning into comfier and more casual outings as you grew closer. So he’d picked you up after his shift and you clambered into the front seat of his car in a pair of comfy sweats and a t-shirt that was far too old. Steve had driven you both to a burger joint, shared fries and a strawberry milkshake in the front seats of the BMW as the sun went down and before it was time to go home, he parked up somewhere quiet enough for talking to turn into kissing.

He was always sweet about it, letting you call the shots and set the pace and you’d grown bolder, learned what he’d liked — learned what you’d liked.

But it had stayed relatively tame, a few hickeys and Steve’s hair a mess but nothing too below the waistline, not yet.

It was why he’d been so surprised when you’d pushed him back into the seat, his head falling back in shock onto the headrest, the back windows already steaming up from the heat of it all. Steve’s lips had parted when you’d swung a leg over his lap, dropping yourself on top of him with a held breath, your chest tight enough to burn. And without any other preamble, you’d launched yourself forward again, sweet and teasing kisses turning into something hotter, more desperate, now that you could feel the hard length of him pressed against the cotton of your underwear.

His hands had flown to your bare thighs, gripping you there as you licked over his tongue and when you let out a quiet moan, Steve felt like he was going to lose it. His hands wandered higher, skimming along bare skin and underneath your skirt until his palms found purchase on your ass, squeezing at the fat there, helping your hips move against him until you were panting into his mouth and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

Everything he’d done wrong in his life, everything he’d tried to right, everything he’d tried to fix - you were his reward, he just knew it.

He got ahead of himself then, panicked at the feeling of you rutting along his cock, the length of it pressed under his jeans and you. He could feel how warm you were, the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of your underwear and you were holding his face in your hands as you kissed him like you were scared he’d stop.

It was enough to make his dick jump, twitching and leaking at every pretty sound you made, every graze of your teeth over his bottom lip as you kissed him more and more feverishly.

He was going to come, he could feel it. He knew it. The warm, tightening sensation at the base of his spine was blooming, his cheeks turning pink, his hips bucking into yours helplessly. He wasn’t going to come in his pants, not in the backseat of his car, not like this, not with you. You deserved more than that.

That’s when he nudged you back onto the bench and dropped to his knees between the seats, crammed down into the footwell but your legs were spread and he could see that little damp spot on the crotch of your underwear.

He wanted to lick over the cotton, tease himself as much as you before peeling the underwear down your legs and pocketing the material.

And then you’d stopped him.

“I want to,” you told him earnestly, your voice a nervous whisper. He watched you lick your bottom lips, eyes wide and trained on his. “I do. I wanna do everything with you,” you admitted shyly.

You paused and Steve waited, kneeling up between your legs so his attention wasn’t as trained on the space between your thighs anymore. He leaned in, hands pushing at your cheeks, your jaw, fingers skimming soothingly over the skin there.

“It’s okay,” Steve assured you, his voice just as soft. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose bumping yours as he dropped another to the opposite side. “It’s okay to wait. I don’t mind-- at all, actually. You’re in charge here, okay?”

You leaned into him in lieu of an answer, lips searching for his and brows knitted together because he was just too fucking sweet to handle. Embarrassment still bloomed in your chest at the situation, at your own admission and you wanted to hide your face against Steve’s but the boy wasn’t having any of it.

He pulled away, chin tilting up to where you couldn’t quite reach him and he frowned at your saddened expression.

“Hey,” Steve tsked softly. “C’mon, you’re in charge, yeah?” He waited, looking at you with earnest, expectant eyes.

You nodded and cleared your throat, nerves and embarrassment swallowed with it because this was Steve. Your Steve. And he was looking at you like he’d give you the sun.

“Yeah,” you agreed and Steve smiled so you did too. “I’m in charge.”

It was only then that the boy leaned back into you, letting you press your lips to his for a kiss. He made it soft and sweet, languid and still tasting like the cherry you’d gifted him from the top of your strawberry shake.

——————

It took a few weeks to end back up in the same situation, this time in Steve’s bed.

There’d been a movie, you think, something that was supposed to be new and funny but you barely made it past the opening scene before you kicked away the remote control and moved into the boy. On your knees, weight pressed into the mattress and your mouth pushed to Steve’s because ever since that night in the back of his car, the sight of him on his knees for you hadn’t left your mind.

If Steve had been surprised at your sudden attack, he didn’t say. In fact, he welcomed it greedily, just as starved for you as you were for him and he pulled you down to meet him without much fanfare.

It was easier now, you were less shy, more willing to show your boyfriend how much you wanted him too. You showed him with greedy kisses, feverish and desperate, your hands sinking into his hair as Steve coaxed you onto his waiting lap, his hands skimming over your waist and your hips and the swell of your ass. You pushed him into his pillows without much thought, Steve’s hands taking you with him, lips never parting as he groaned into your open mouth and your tongue traced over his.

He was already hard, you’d noticed, the feeling of him in his sweats pressed between your thighs sparking the similar feeling in your tummy, the one you always seemed to get the minute the boy got his hands on you. Steve never seemed embarrassed either, always eager to show you exactly what you did to him and apart from a few fumbles in the dark, Steve’s hands slipping under your shirt to flirt with your pebbled nipples over your bra, there hadn’t been much else but kissing.

Tonight felt different.

You wanted tonight to be different.

So you did as you’d done on the car the week before, rolling your hips over Steve’s as you kissed him harder, nose pressed to his cheek as you pulled at his hair and hoped he’d fall apart for you. He did, or almost did, groaning louder than before and gripping your waist almost too tightly as he tried not to jerk up into you.

He lost it a little, hands slipping to your ass to palm at the bare skin peeking out from beneath your shorts, blunt nails scratching nicely over your upper thighs. Steve heaved out a breath, pulling back just enough to look up at you. He was all pink, flushed cheeks and messy hair pushed to his pillows, lips shiny from your kisses as he tried to slow his breathing.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he rasped, trying to sound authoritative but his fingers were trailing inside the legs of your shorts to play with the elastic edge of your underwear and he couldn’t take his eyes off of your heaving chest. “I swear, you’re actually trying to kill me.”

You grinned, still shy, still a little embarrassed at the effect Steve had on you, the effect you seemed to have on him. But despite your boyfriend’s suggestive touch, he didn’t stray any further. You remembered what he’d told you that night, eyes locked on yours, filled with sincerity.

‘You’re in charge.’

You swallowed, throat tight, trying your best to conjure up some bravery from the pit of your stomach. “Hey, Steve?”

Steve was busying himself at your neck, lips pressing kisses to the sensitive skin underneath your jaw and chin. He hummed, a silent question, a barely there answer and you almost forgot what you wanted to say when he nipped at your neck.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Remember— remember the other night? When you said… that I was in charge?” You asked quietly, head ripping back to let Steve do what he wanted, his lips still on your throat. “When you were gonna— uh, gonna go down on me?”

Steve paused but only for a second, seemingly deciding that reacting too strongly to your words would be a bad move. So he placed one last kiss underneath your jaw and then pulled back to meet your gaze. He was soft and warm, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were comfortable and when he found what he was looking for, he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I remember.” He pushed you from his lap and back onto the bed, gentle and soft with it, easing you back into the pillows so he could lean over you and place a reassuring hand on your waist. “You been thinkin’ about that?”

You were grateful to be off of him, too pent up with being on top and feeling how hard you’d made Steve, finding it easier now to look up at him, your hands playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “A little,” you murmured. And then you corrected yourself. “A lot.”

Steve grinned, unable to help it and you were adorably shy even when talking about him putting his mouth on you but it just made him all the more wild at the thought. He moved his hand to your tummy, fingers moving over the soft pudge of it, his thumb stroking close to the waistband of your shorts.

“Yeah?” He asked again, sounding eager now, sounding hopeful. “What about it, babe? Steve watched you stall, lips moving without words coming out and he smiled, making it easier for you when he said, “you wanna try it?”

You could feel yourself burning, a little in embarrassment but mostly at the idea of it. You’d spent many nights since it was first brought up lying in bed and picturing your boyfriend between your legs. You’d thought about his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could lean in and press his lips to you. You wondered what his tongue would feel like there, if he’d be soft, if you’d like it hard, slow, gentle, teasing. Would he use his fingers? Would he look up at you while he did it? Would he make the same noises he did when you kissed him? When you rocked your hips over his lap and grinded against him?

You nodded, the breath sucked from your lungs. Suddenly, the room was too warm and it only got hotter when Steve grinned and moved to kiss you, peppering little touches of his lips over your cheeks, your nose and jaw.

“You gotta tell me then, honey, yeah?” Steve murmured softly. “Just so I know you’re okay with it. I don’t want to make you feel like it’s something you have to do—”

“I know,” you interrupted. You sat up a little, back to Steve’s headboard as you made sure to keep eye contact with him. He needed to know how okay with it you were. “You’re not making me do anything, I promise. I want to. I really want to.” You smiled then, nervous and excited and with your skin rippling with anticipation.

“Okay,” Steve smiled back. “You’ll tell me if you don’t like it? We can stop whenever you want, alright?”

You nodded again and before Steve needed to prompt you once more, you promised him, “I will, I swear.” Your cheeks warmed again at the memory of your nightly scenarios. “I think I’ll like it though.”

Steve laughed then, not at all meanly. “Yeah? Well, that’s a good start.” He caught your wrist with his hand, pressed a kiss to your palm like a promise. “I’ll try my best, yeah? We can find out what you like together.”

And didn’t that sound really fucking nice?

His hand moved to your waistband again, fingers skimming over the denim before finding the button and zip. Steve tapped it, eyes on yours. He raised his brows and asked, “can I?”

You answered by lifting your hips, falling back into his pillows once more as you sucked in a breath, buzzing with anticipation. Steve fumbled with the metal once, twice, before it popped open and he took his time tugging the denim from your hips. You panicked a little as you tried to remember what underwear you were wearing but you didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before your shorts were at your ankles and then on Steve’s bedroom floor.

He smiled at your cotton boy shorts, plain and white. Nothing sexy but certainly nothing embarrassing either. But then he was moving, just like you’d imagined, up onto his knees before laying down between your own on his stomach.

“You okay for me to be like this?” Steve asked you quietly, a reassuring hand squeezing at the outside of one thigh.

Your brows rose at that and you suddenly felt horribly naive. “There’s other ways to do it?”

Steve laughed again, soothing away the sting of his amusement by kissing your knee. “Well, yeah, babe. Loads of ways.” His voice lowered a little, his hands trailing upupup until they were close to the elastic edge of your underwear. “I could have you on your hands and knees for me. Could bend you over, y’know?”

Your body lit up, flames licking at the inside of your stomach until they were crawling past your ribs. The idea of it made you squirm, hips twitching under Steve’s touch and he looked delighted at your reaction.

“Or I could get you to sit on my face,” another kiss, this time on the inside of your thigh as he moved closer, your legs over his shoulders. The tip of his nose pushed at the edge of your underwear and your toes curled into the sheets. “Really let you take charge. Would you like that? Wanna ride my face, honey?”

“I—” you didn’t know what to say to that and Steve buried his smile in the side of your thigh.

“S’okay,” he whispered. “We’ll work up to that, yeah? How ‘bout for now, I just—” Steve pressed a kiss just under your belly button, lips flirting lower until you felt his mouth just above your folds. Something in your stomach flipped. “—find out what you like best, hm?”

And he did.

You were surprised when he didn’t immediately pull off your underwear and the noise that came from your mouth when he put his lips on you was unintelligible. Steve pressed a kiss to the front of your underwear, nose nudging at your folds under the cotton. You let out a gasp, breathy and high, hips twitching up until you were pushing yourself to Steve’s mouth and you could feel his smile.

“Hey, hey, s’alright, honey,” Steve assured you. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Another kiss, and then another, tiny touches pressed over the front of your underwear before you felt the heat from this mouth opening, his tongue tracing the line of your folds. The cotton grew even more damp as Steve licked at you, pushing his tongue into your pussy, the material moving under his touch, moulding to your skin.

You were gripping the sheets now, knees falling open on each side of Steve’s face and you didn’t dare look down, not yet. Your eyes shut on their own accord, stars and colours blinking behind your lids and everything felt warm, everything felt fuzzy, like you had cotton balls stuffed in your ears and you were being pulled underwater.

Except there was a live wire in the pool with you, zaps racing through the current to make your entire body buzz, little electrical shocks every time Steve licked at you. His tongue moved deliberately slow, his eyes watching your face, your body, your chest, your mouth for every reaction you gave him.

You liked this teasing, this slow build, this lazy burn that was getting hotter and hotter. So Steve kept at it, pressing his mouth to your cunt, open and with his tongue pushed to you, doing his best to find your clit through your underwear and when he finally pulled back, he groaned at the sight. The white fabric had turned a little see through, translucent in the low bedroom light and Steve could see every part of you with your legs spread so obscenely.

It was a dirty, dirty sight. Something right out of his porno magazines he kept hidden under his bed. The material was stuck to you, showing off your parted folds, the bump of your clit, your little hole, wetter than any other part of you.

“Oh, honey,” Steve moaned, his voice a broken rasp. You looked down at him then, messy haired and pink cheeked and framed by your thighs. He was staring at your cunt, heavy lidded and with red, pouty lips that were already shining from his hard work. “Wish you could see yourself, you’re so fucking hot.”

You whined, embarrassed but not daring to hide your face from him - to hide Steve from you. He looked up at you then, smiling - no, smirking - looking too pleased with himself and he took his pointer finger and stroked it through your folds. You jumped, an immediate response that Steve cooed at and he didn’t stop until his finger was resting on your clit. It was already throbbing, a hot pulse under his touch and he circled it carefully, slow and gentle and giving it pretty, little nudges.

Steve watched it move under his finger, watched it become more obvious through the fabric and his lips parted as he looked at you. He couldn’t stay away for too long, moving his face back to you to press a kiss to it.

“Good?” He asked you, checking in with a kiss to your thigh as well. “You doin’ okay?”

You groaned your answer, your ‘yes’ coming out high and needy. But that’s all Steve needed to hear before he let his tongue drag across you again, the flat of it pushing against your clit, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your underwear so the fabric was pulled even tighter against your pussy. He moaned into you when you whined, nose buried in your folds as he pursed his lips around your clit and sucked a little.

Again, he moved away, leaving you panting, gasping, his hands tugging at your underwear again, his eyes lighting up at the way the fabric stretched over you. He swore, voice low and dirty. “Fuck, baby, I can see you clenching down for me. That feels good, huh? Getting those cute, little panties soaked for me.”

You weren’t sure where your sweet, soft boyfriend had gone, but you certainly didn’t mind this replacement. Steve looked wild, drunk on the sight of you and you were more than happy to lay back and let him toy with you, his fingers and tongue winding you tight like screw top, ready to be sent spinning.

Your hands went from the sheets to Steve’s hair, grabbing at the beats strands, in desperate need to anchor yourself to him. You almost wanted to pull him up your body, having him crawl back up to you so you could claim him for a kiss. The need to have him closer was burning. But then Steve took pity, fingers curling into the sides of your now soaked underwear and you didn’t hesitate to lift your hips for him.

They were pulled down quickly and they soon joined your shorts on the floor and before the boy could ask, your legs fell open once more, shyness gone in the heady need for the pleasure the boy was giving you. Steve beamed, lying back between your thighs and his eyes greedy, taking in all your slick, bare skin.

“Oh, there’s a good girl,” he hummed, his hand smoothing up each side of your waist, taking your shirt with it. “Play with your tits, honey, lemme see them, yeah?”

You did as you were told, face burning as you pushed up your t-shirt and wrestled the cups of your bra out of the way, tits spilling out of them. Your hands shook a little as you pressed them together, hard nipples peeking through your fingertips and it was all filth, a lewd, pornographic scene that you wanted to give Steve.

“Ohh,” the boy moaned in appreciation, the sound rumbling in his chest and he rutted down into the mattress, seeking relief on his hard cock that was straining between his waistband and his stomach. “Look at you, Christ. You’re so damn pretty, you know that? Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?”

You nodded, whining until your words were just noise but they all sounded very much agreeable. So Steve ducked his head back down and used one of his hands to pull your leg out further, spreading you wide as he kissed a line from your entrance to your clit. And just when you thought he’d suck the little bundle past his lip, he let it go in favour of licking over your folds, left and the right - and the right up the centre of you with a wide, flat tongue.

“Steve, Jesus fucking Christ,” you moaned loudly, jaw unhinged and head hanging back on his pillow even when your back arched for him. “That’s— fuck! Don’t stop.”

Steve soothed you with gentle hands on your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the fat there and he hushed you. “M’not gonna stop, honey, don’t worry,” he spoke into you, lips pushing against your pussy with every word and you wanted to cry, you wanted to beg. “You wanna come already?”

It should’ve been a mocking thing to ask, the ‘already,’ holding so much amusement but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. Not when the boy was letting the soft tip of his tongue circle lazily around your clit, dragging it down to your neglected hole until he groaned when it clenched around him, his own hips bucking once more.

“She’s so needy,” he whispered, in awe. “And so damn wet, Christ baby, you feel good?”

You nodded, head bobbing exuberantly as you propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look. Steve grinned up at you and he nuzzled closer before bringing his hands to your cunt, thumbs spreading you open as he ordered, “keep your legs open, yeah? Good girl.”

And then he was closing his mouth around you, his tongue flattened against you as he sucked gently, the pressure of your clit being pulled into his mouth too much to handle. You keened, a high gasp that left your jaw hanging, eyes clenched shut in euphoria. The colours behind your eyelids turned to explosions, glitter in the air as Steve licked and sucked at you, the same pattern over and over again until you were pressing your heels into the bed and pushing back up to meet his tongue.

“I’m— Steve? Steve, I’m gonna come—”

His answering groan was almost as loud as you, his hands leaving your folds so they could grab at your ass instead, fingers pressing almost bruisingly into each cheek so he could hold your squirming hips against him. He didn’t let up as you chanted his name, knees locking around his head like a vice and when you let out a high pitched wail, pushing at his forehead, he pulled back with a disbelieving laugh, a half gasp.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, eyes roaming over how soaked you were, the way your chest heaved, how your heavy lidded eyes were set only on him. “That was so fucking hot, honey, like Jesus Christ—”

He didn’t get to finish as you grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, hauling him up until he was frantically crawling over your body, his hands braced on the mattress as you pushed yourself up to meet him. You were both breathing heavily but you stole a kiss anyway, his lips slick and shiny and tasting like you.

You found you didn’t mind at all, your body burning at the reminder of what he’d just done, the taste of yourself on his tongue and yours, the thrumming pulse of your orgasm still simmering through you.

“Good?” Steve was grinning into the kiss, grunting and gasping when your teeth nipped at him, your tongue tracing the line of his cupid's bow, chasing your taste. “Fuck, baby—”

You nodded, nose bumping against his and you wanted to sob at how good he’d made you feel. Words didn’t seem enough to be able to express it. “Yeah, yeah, oh my god-- yeah, it was good.”

Steve was still beaming, more happy than smug, because you were elated, glowing from the high of it all and he’d done that for you. But before he could soothe you back down to earth with more kisses and soft hands, you were pushing him off of you and down onto the mattress. His cock was still throbbing and the taste of you still coated his tongue as you straddled him, your shirt falling back down to cover your pretty tits but he could see the shiny slick from your pussy peek out from under the hem of it as you sat on his lap.

He didn’t get a chance to question you.

“I wanna return the favour,” you said quietly. Soft but determined. “Show me how.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader

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sparklingchim · 1 year

Text

too hot to handle;m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5.3k

rating: 18+

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, brother’s best friend, college!au, fwb

warnings: belly button smoochies !!!!, they banter a lot hihi, oral (m receiving), protected sex, dick slaps on the face 🫢, mentions of underage drinking, spanking, spitting, dirty talk, oc loves reality tv shows & jk just puts up w it, groping, praise, a sprinkle of jealousy😋, INTRODUCING A KITTY CAT !!!! pls she is the cutest <3

summary: pov: it's a hot summer day, and naturally, your brother's best friend can't take his eyes off your scantily clad body.

a/n: wow it's been so long!! but here's a lil summer fic!! love u hope u like it MWAH 😙

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“I can’t believe those people can’t keep their dick in for just a little while.” Jungkook tilts his head in a disapproving way. “There’s so much money at stake and you're risking it just cause you’re horny?”

You silently giggle at the way his brows knit. The judgement that contorts his face is the exact opposite of his earlier claims that he doesn’t care about silly reality tv shows that are obviously pre-arranged and scripted.

“Oh, don’t act like it’d be easy for you.” You poke his calf with your foot. “You’re a very horny person, Jungkook.” You look up at him with your chin resting against his bare chest and give him a pointed look.

His bottom lip juts out as he ponders your words. “I don’t think so,” he finally says.

You gasp in mock surprise, pushing yourself away from with your palms against shoulders. You lie nearly completely on top of him, one leg thrown across his body. “That is a bold statement coming from you.”

Jungkook toys with the strap of your lacy camisole. “Honestly, I think you are hornier than me.”

You blink multiple times. “Me?” You point to yourself. “No, it’s you.” You nudge his bare, husky chest with your nail – you got your nails done for summer, the tips are painted in the cutest pastel colours.

He catches your finger and swiftly interlaces his hand with yours. “Nuh-uh. It’s not me,” he denies. “Who was the one to initiate things between us?”

“That has nothing to do with this,” you argue. “You just never initiated anything because you’re scared of my brother.” A mischievous twinkle unfolds in your eyes. Jungkook should be paid for the obnoxious number of times he has to put up with your bratty ass.

Jungkook rolls his pretty eyes. “I wouldn’t be on his fucking couch cuddling with his sister if I was scared, hm?” He looks across the hallway, pointing with his chin to Taehyung’s room. “Where even is he?”

“I dunno. Said he’d come home late.”

His fingers slip away from yours and he holds his palm against yours.

“You’ve got long fingers,” you say, staring at the size difference.

“Your nails are pretty.” He mindlessly brushes his fingers over them.

You excitedly tap your fingertips against his hand. “I know, right? Thank you!” You lean down and give his belly button a kiss.

“Another one?”

You giggle foolishly, planting another smooch on his tummy. Then you rest your head on his belly and refocus on the show playing on the television.

His palm lies on the small of your back, thumb gently stroking your exposed skin. “You were, like, all over me, though. Last year, I mean.”

“Excuse me?” you turn your head.

“Last year during summer break, when Taehyung and I surprised you.”

“I know what you mean,” you tell him. You drop his hand on his lap, a frown blossoming on your face. “But that was not the case at all.”

Okay, perhaps he is correct – but to your defence, you were struggling with your first real heartbreak around that time and needed a little distraction.

“I just wanted to get the charger and leave,” he argues with a pout, playing all innocent with those damned doe eyes

“No.” You give him an appalled look. “You were literally standing in my room staring at me.”

“Well, I didn’t expect to find you like that.”

“You barged into my room, what were you expe-”

“I didn’t barge into your room,” he clarifies. “Your door was ajar, so I assumed you’d be decent.”

You shake your head disapprovingly. “Knocking is basic etiquette.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and his hand on your back sneaks beneath your top. “You initiated it, though. Practically threw yourself at me.”

You scoff, frowning up at him. “Need a trip down memory lane?”

Jungkook smirks amusedly. His dimple pops out adorably. “What?” He twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Wanna show me what we did?”

You roll your eyes, despite your heart skipping a beat. “You wouldn’t last a second on the show.” You tilt your head towards the flat screen tv.

“I have a hot girl in my arms – gonna blame a boy for trying?”

Jungkook clearly knows how to get you. And you hate that he knows when he’s got you. His smile grows bigger and his hand wanders down to your ass, barely covered with your tiny shorts, and delivers a little smack.

“C’mere,” he whispers and pulls you on top of him. “Wanna make you scream louder than you did earlier.”

one year ago

For you, summer doesn’t quite begin until it’s the perfect day to lie on the sun lounger in a cute bikini, sipping on a cold drink and bask in the gentle warmth with good music in your ears. It’s the perfect way to relax and unwind.

Lucky for you, today is one of those summer days – just perfect enough to spend the entire day resting by the pool. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow on your skin.

Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift is blasting through your phone while you placidly flip the page of a memoir about love.

As you look up from the book, you notice that your little grey cat Moon has left your lap. She was sunbathing with you, lying flat on her belly with her limbs outstretched, but she must’ve slipped into the house a while ago. You dog ear the page and place the book on the small table beside you.

The sun dances on the water, creating a beautiful mosaic of light and shadow. A little slice of heaven on earth, you think. You love spending time in the backyard. It’s peaceful and tranquil.

And that’s when you hear the patter of feet running across the grass from behind, and before you’re able to realise what’s happening, two bodies jump into the pool, the water splashes everywhere – including you.

“What the-” You shut your eyes closed despite the sunglass perched on the bridge of your nose. Water droplets hit your face. You pull your sunglasses up to your forehead.

Two heads pop out of the water. “Hi.” Jungkook is the first to speak up. He sends a sweet smile in your direction, his hand doing a little wave.

Your heart beats faster at the sight of him. Unthinkingly, you slowly mimic the wave with your hand. Your gaze wanders over to the tattoo wreathing his shoulder, peeking out of the water, and the way the droplets run from his face to his neck before your eyes shift to your brother.

Taehyung is fixing his hair, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“What are you guys doing here?” You grab the towel next to you to dry yourself off. “Isn’t it Thursday? I thought you were coming back on Friday?”

“Surprise!” Your brother yells from the pool. When Taehyung notices the pout on your lips, he gives you a quizzical look. “You’re not happy to see me?” He pushes himself out of the pool and walks over to you.

“I had planned to bake you a cake,” you explain sullenly and stand up.

“A cake? For what?”

“Just a little welcome back cake.” You shrug. “Mum bought me the pink Smeg stand mixer and I wanted to try it out.”

“Well, that’s fine. We could bake together?” He opens his arms, and despite him being wet everywhere, you rush into the hug.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his arm. Immediate comfort surrounds you. "But it’s no fun being in the kitchen with you.”

“Yah.” He shoves you away. “Be grateful that I’m letting you ruin my kitchen with all your stuff.”

“Ruin?” you repeat offended. “As far as I know you barely even have anything in your kitchen – let alone your apartment. I’ll decorate everything really pretty, just trust me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook pushing himself out of the pool. Taehyung restricts your sight a little, so you take a subtle step to the side. But the second you have a clear view of Jungkook, you instantly regret it.

His arms have gotten bigger – stronger, buffer, just everything – and the water running down his sculpted body is pitifully failing at making this scene less salivating. Oh, and his thighs. His wet swim shorts cling to them, leaving exactly nothing to the imagination.

You hastily look away when Jungkook catches your eyes.

“You missed me too?” Jungkook chips in, standing next to Taehyung. Jungkook wears a cheeky grin and stretches his arms out.

With faux reluctance, you give in. “I guess,” you mutter and gingerly hug him. Jungkook’s big hands are on your back and you feel the slightest tingle.

“You guess?” he scoffs.

He pulls you back and peers down at you beneath his wet locks. You’re a little blinded by the proximity of his gorgeous face. His piercings twinkle in the sun just like is eyes do when he looks at you.

When his hands clasp your waist, you know exactly what he’s scheming.

“Jungkook, don’t.” You try to push him away, but he obviously won’t budge.

“When are you gonna learn that teasing me by the pool never ends well for you?” He cocks his head.

You feel Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder. “You did this to yourself.”

You huff, trying to plead with your eyes. “Jungkook. I really don’t want to get my hair wet.”

“You don’t want me to throw you into the pool?”

“No.” Your mouth twists into a pout. Maybe he’ll spare you for cuteness. Your hands travel to his arms. Or maybe you can distract him enough to let you go.

“Too bad.” Jungkook throws you over his shoulder with an annoying grin. You kick his back with your fists, but it’s hopeless. “That’s, like, one of my favourite summer activities.”

And then he leaps into the pool with you.

You admit, you did indeed have fun goofing around with them in the pool – you're still pissed at Jungkook for tossing you into the water though.

“You’ve been alone the whole day?” Taehyung asks when all three of you are out of the pool.

“Yeah, mum and dad said they’d come home later.”

“Why haven’t you invited someone over?”

“Just wanted to enjoy some me time.” You point to your copy of Everything I Know About Love. “I was reading a little.”

“How are thing with Doyoon? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”

It is a reasonable question, given that you haven’t updated Taehyung on your relationship status for, like, a month now. But you’d rather talk about anything but your ex.

“I don’t know,” you reply indifferently. When you spot little Moon plodding around the garden you swoop her up into your arms. “Have you greeted Moonie yet? She’s missed you.” The tiny grey kitty purrs in your hold.

“I spent like 20 minutes cuddling her in the living room when we got here.” Taehyung pets her under her chin and her purring intensifies. “So, what’s with Doyoon? You two had a fight?”

Jungkook joins the kitty cuddles and gives Moon belly rubs.

“I broke up with him.”

Both boys stop their movements. Moon complains meekly at the sudden lack of petting.

“You broke up with him?” Jungkook asks perplexed.

You’re aware it sounds shocking that the girl with huge separation anxiety and attachment issues broke up with her boyfriend of nearly a year, but that is exactly what you did.

“What did he do?” Taehyung's eyebrows are knitted, flashing you a glowering gaze.

You know he is not mad at you – even though he doesn’t particularly like when you keep things hidden from him – but mad at the fact that someone hurt you and he wasn’t there to protect you.

You just shrug.

“How long ago was that?” Taehyung continues his inquiry.

“Uh, like a month ago or so?” You let Moon hop onto the grass. She immediately goes to rub her head against Jungkook’s leg.

“___, if you want me to-”

“Tae, I’m fine. Really.”

“We’ll talk about this later.” In Jungkook’s direction he says, “I’ll get us some towels.” And then he disappears into the house.

Jungkook steps closer to you, now with Moon in his embrace, and changes the subject. “Watchu been up to?” He pinches your cheek. “Senior year was fine without us?”

Frowning, you shove his arm away. “Believe it or not, but school was actually more peaceful without annoying boys in the hallways.”

Jungkook snorts a laugh at your jab. His dimples popping out distract you a little and all you think about is cute and how badly you want to poke them. But instead, you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“So, everything’s been fine?” he asks. “You’re excited for college? Being roomies with Taehyung?” Jungkook’s eyes shimmer teasingly – how could they not, his doe eyes look the sparkliest around you.

Now, you don’t want to seem rude. But when you thought about moving out and finally having the freedom you had dreamed of for so long, you didn’t reckon with the fact that your parents had already arranged your move out without you. You had tabs of pretty apartments near campus saved on your laptop when your mum nonchalantly asked at dinner a few months ago if Taehyung had already removed the furniture from his guest bedroom so you could furnish it to your liking.

You were a little upset – still are upset, but there's nothing you can do.

It’s a sore subject, so you bite the side of your lip sulkily. “Why? Do you wanna move in? I heard you only got a tiny dorm.” You keep your nose in the air.

“Oh no, I love my apartment. I love having my own space and not having to share it with anyone.” Jungkook shakes his head at your wrong assumption, all innocently. “It’s not big, but perfect for one person.” He shrugs. “Will you be fine with only one room to yourself, princess?” He actually flashes you a smile – taunting you with those sickeningly wicked lips and round eyes – but you just roll your eyes at his silly remark and turn on your heel, sashaying your way back to the sun lounger.

“I’m good.” You pick up your towel from the small table to dry you off. “I’ll be perfectly fine. I don’t think I’ll be home much anyway.” You imitate his smile from just a moment ago. “Wanna have the full college experience.” You think you see his face falter for the tiniest second before he recovers.

“Told Taehyung that too?”

You purse your lips in naivety. “Of course he knows.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks his brow. You catch his eyes as they dip down to watch you drying your chest.

You blink. “What do you mean – yeah, of course I told him.” You have to contain your laughter when perplexity falls over Jungkook’s face. “What are you thinking of?” Your head falls sideways, mouth curving upwards.

“No, what are you thinking of?”

“Oh, I’m thinking of spending my time in the library to study, maybe explore some cute cafes nearby to study in – oh, creating study groups and having study buddies would be fun!” you exclaim. “And obviously cheering for Taehyung and you,” – you give him a pointed look – “at your games.” You throw the now damp towel back on the lounger. “What were you thinking of?”

He shakes his head, pouty mouth denying that he was thinking of something else. He’s guilelessly rubbing Moon’s back, who has quickly fallen into a little nap in his arms.

“Cheering us on, hm?”

“Just like old times,” you say. “Think I should apply as a cheerleader again?”

Jungkook toys with his lip ring and you hate when he does it because you already have a hard time not blatantly staring at his mouth as it is.

“You-” He stops abruptly.

“What?” you ask, trying to pull the words from him, the tip of your tongue pressing against your top lip.

“You looked good in your cheerleader uniform.” His eyes dart mindlessly over your body.

A short giggle escapes you. “I know, right? Thank you!” You give him a sweet smile over your shoulder as you walk pass Taehyung, who just stepped outside with two towels in his hand.

“Where’re you going?” Taehyung halts next to you.

“Thought I’d make us some drinks,” you reply.

Taehyung gives you a long stare. “That’s what you’ve been up to the past weeks?”

You wave dismissively. “No, not at all.”

But Taehyung can tell when you lie – can smell it from anywhere. It’s something you hate and love at the same time. Sometimes you just want to be left alone, and sometimes, when your guard is up high, he allows you to feel vulnerable through his endless poking and snooping.

“Maybe a little.” An apologetic smile forms on your mouth, eyes going rounder when you hear Taehyung sigh.

Okay, maybe you did drink a little more than you’d like to admit – you got your heart broken. What’s a girl gonna do? – but never too much. And never when you were on your own. Being drunk alone is no fun.

“I promise it’s not that serious,” you say. Nothing a little crying, cuddles from Moon and journaling at night can’t cure. Your visits at stationery stores have been a tad bit excessive this past month – but for good reason.

His eyes tell you that he’s going to confront you about this later. He nods his head to the kitchen inside. “Don’t go too overboard, yeah?”

“Oh, I’ll make you one of my specialties!”

Taehyung doesn’t join your enthusiasm. Instead, he scowls. “Specialties? ___, when did you-”

You hop into the house, not listening anymore. Once he gets a taste of your drink, his grumpy face will ask for another one instead of grumbling about your recklessness.

You don’t know what Taehyung and Jungkook are up to, but you hope they took your advice seriously when you told them to put on sunscreen if they want to spend more time outside.

You’re fresh out of a shower. The steam in your bathroom follows you into your bedroom – despite the hot temperatures, you can’t bring yourself to shower with cold water.

With a fluffy towel around you and your kitty ears headband on, you poke your head into your wardrobe to search for clothes.

You just fetched a cute pair of panties when you hear your door fly open.

“Taehyung needs a charger can you-”

Jungkook immediately shuts up.

Your panties slip from your fingers. His eyes move aimlessly over your body until he realises what he’s doing. Flustered, he turns his head around and sees the door wide open. Jungkook quickly closes it, and you don’t know why – maybe he doesn’t want anyone seeing you like this, you think he mentioned earlier that Namjoon was gonna come over too, or maybe he doesn’t want someone seeing him in this untimely situation.

Your cheeks feel on fire. “He needs a phone charger?” you ask when he shifts his gaze back at you.

“Yeah.” You almost giggle at the way he tries not to look down at your body. He already had trouble with that in the backyard.

You pad through your room to find your charger.

“I’m not sure where I put it.” You feel his eyes on you and inevitably, your entire body gradually starts feeling hot. You bend down to take a peek under your bed, tightly holding the towel in front of your chest to keep it from sliding down, but you come up empty-handed.

Jungkook clears his throat. “You know – I think he’ll be fine. If he doesn’t find his I can get mine from home.”

Returning to him, you quickly snatch your panties from the ground and throw them back into your wardrobe.

“Maybe I left it in the living room,” you say, eyes trailing over his bare chest. If he’s not subtle about staring, you won’t be either.

“I’ll tell him to look there.”

You nod. And he nods. But no one moves.

“That looks cute.” He nods towards your headband.

“Oh.” You touch the soft material of your headband. “Thank you.”

“I probably should head back.”

“You really want to leave?”

That elicits a surprised snort from him. “Do you want me to stay?” His eyebrows shoot up.

“I dunno.” You toy with the front of your towel. “Maybe?”

The crooked smile that appears on his face gives you the last push. You’ve got Jungkook alone in your room in nothing but his swim shorts – you'd be a fool not to try.

His eyes are locked on your fingers playing with your towel. Jungkook takes a step towards you. When he raises his tatted arm and gently outlines the curve of your waist with his fingertip, you let go of your towel. With a dull thud it pools around your feet.

“I-” Jungkook is speechless as he stares at your exposed body His doe eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them. He averts his gaze to your face, pointing his thumb to the door. His mouth parts, but no words come past them.

“Don’t leave.” A little frown scrunches your face. “Do you want to leave?”

“We shouldn’t-” Jungkook shakes his head, eyes furtively glimpsing at your body again before lifting them up. “You sure?” he asks. “You want this?” Hesitantly, his tongue fiddles with his piercing.

You nod and reach for his hand, grabbing a few fingers to drag him closer to you.

“You want this?” he repeats. “Need you to say it. Please.” He’s staring deep into your eyes and you see the desire and restraint striving against each other in his. His question lingering in the air controls his mixed emotions.

“I want this.” You tug him even closer.

His longing glances are all over you – he can’t seem to dwell too long on one curve, he needs to memorise it all.

“Fuck it,” he whispers. And then he cups your jaw, roughly going in for a messy kiss.

You stumble a few steps back, but Jungkook catches you, his fingers dip into the soft skin of your waist. A sigh from you mingles into the kiss. You didn’t think kissing Jungkook would feel so good. But his lips are ridiculously smooth, and he moves his mouth in a fashion that has you yearning for more. Your hands vanish in his hair, teasingly pulling at his damp locks.

He pulls back, breathing heavy. “This is so wrong.” He nuzzles his head into your neck.

“He won’t know.” When you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, you yank him back. “He will if you're gonna suck hickeys on me.”

“You just taste so fucking good,” he mumbles.

You pepper kisses along his jaw before you slowly sink on your knees. The bulge in his shorts stares right at you. Giddy sparks flash through your eyes while you look up at Jungkook.

“You’re not doing this because you drank, right?” His knuckles brush over your cheek.

“Huh?” you feel dizzy, little pink hearts swell up in front of your eyes, the longer you stare into his dreamy face. When you register his question, you deny it with a strong shake of your head. “I’m not drunk.”

He tips your chin up. “You promise?”

“I didn’t put anything in my drink,” you assure him. “I promise.”

With a smile playing on your lips, you place a kiss on his belly button before pulling down his swim shorts. The pink hearts grow even bigger when his cock pops out. It’s a pretty cock – veiny and thick, his tip glistening with a teeny tiny dab of pre-cum. You’ve never been more excited to put a dick in your mouth.

You have one palm around his cock and guide his head to your mouth. You stick your tongue out and sweep it over his slit. The muscles on his abdomen tense. Even the slightest reactions from him excites you, cheeks turning warm in eagerness.

A breathy moan escapes Jungkook at the feeling of your warm lips wrapped around his head and his fingers slide over your kitty ears headband to the back of your head. You like the feeling of his hand on you. It elicits a tingly sensation in your tummy. You take more of him, relaxing your throat as you go.

“Good girl.” His hushed praise has wetness pooling between your thighs. Your fist curled around his cock tightens fleetingly.

More quiet moans fill the room as you bob your head, tongue swirling around his length. You pull off his dick with a lewd sound and pump his cock while you suck on his balls. Jungkook’s head falls back, flaunting his pretty throat you’d die to adorn with your love bites all over.

Dragging your lips over his cock again, his palm pushes your head forward. Almost his entire length vanishes in your mouth and the corner of your eyes start shimmering with tears.

“Fuck, that’s right.” He holds you there, savouring the feeling of your lips pulled taut around his swollen cock. “Taking my cock so good.” When you retract with a gag, his thumb brushes your tear away. “But still too big, huh?”

“You wanna teach me how to take all of it?” You bat your eyes.

Jungkook grins, flashing you his bunny teeth. He glides his tip over your plush lips and to your cheek. “Think you could take it all?”

“If you teach me well enough.” Your palms rest against his muscular thighs. You squeeze them and your mouth turns round in awe of their firmness.

He taps his cock on your face a couple times. “Another time, princess. Just wanna fuck your mouth right now.” Jungkook presses his dick on your mouth. “Open.”

With his cock back in your mouth, he starts moving his hips. He doesn’t force his cock in too far, just enough to have you teary eyed.

“Scoot over there.” His voice his husky as he pulls his dick from your mouth, it distracts you a little from what he’s instructed you to do until Jungkook nudges your shoulder and nods his chin to the back. You crawl backwards on your knees, palms on his thighs. When he’s satisfied, he leans in for a short kiss and you kneel comfortably on the plush carpet beneath you.

He strokes himself, eyebrows drawn together as he ogles your body through his hooded eyes. You could sit here for hours watching him play with himself. He’s just so hot. You love watching hot men do anything.

“Wanna fuck you,” he rasps, words laced with thick, deep lust. He pushes his hair back before it falls prettily into his face. “Can I fuck you?”

Unbeknownst to him, you would do anything he asked you to do now.

When you raise to your feet Jungkook asks, “Can you keep quiet?”

Offence is written on your face as you pad to your nightstand. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck a boy into my room.”

“Who would’ve thought you’re such a dirty girl, hm?” He snatches the condom from your drawer before you can reach for it. He’s practised in tearing the wrapper open and rolling it over his cock. “Bend over your desk for me.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, arching your back for him. He shoves two fingers up your pussy and you have to bite down your lip to stifle a moan.

“So wet for me already.” Jungkook curls his fingers, and you can’t believe how fast he has your thighs trembling.

Withdrawing his fingers, he aligns his tip to your entrance. Jungkook gradually sinks his cock into you.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you whine, brows pinched together.

“You can take it.” Jungkook moves his hips while his fingers grip your ass, kneading the supple flesh. “Your pussy feels so fucking good – fuck.”

Jungkook fucks you fast – fucks you good, you think you already feel your high building up. He sneaks his around your body, pressing his palm on your tummy.

“You like this?” He puts pressure with his hand and your walls clamp around his cock. A moan escapes you. “Good girl,” he coos. “Wanna make you cum for me.”

“Don’t stop – please don’t stop,” you pant, shutting your eyes closed. Your elbows give in and you rest your arms on the desk.

Jungkook’s cock feels undeniably good, rubbing against your sweet spot and making you see stars while you uncontrollably utter tiny moans.

“Gonna cum around my cock?” Jungkook hand collides against your butt. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Your climax consumes you in lightning speed. It swamps your wholly, tears well up in your eyes. Your legs are wobbly, but Jungkook has a safe hand around you.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers.

His hand on your tummy flies up to your tits, rolling them around in his palm while relentlessly fucking you through your high.

“Has any sneaky link made you cum this fast before?” His voice is tinted in something you can’t quiet pinpoint. It’s deep, fierce.

“Nu-uh.” You’re dizzy and breathless, can’t think straight.

“Good.” He lands a smack on your ass.

His breathing intensifies, cock throbbing in your pussy. Pressing his forehead against your shoulder blade, his husky moans fill your ear. Your eyes roll. There’s nothing hotter than men moaning – especially when it’s Jungkook.

With a final thrust he spills his cum inside the condom. He exhales shakily and the tiniest whine falls from his lips. “Fuck.” Both his hands run over the slope of your ass. Jungkook plants a thoughtless kiss on the nape of your neck. “Fucking you might be my favourite now.”

“Found a new favourite summer activity besides throwing me into the pool?” You smile tiredly, peering over your shoulder.

“No – I’m talking favourite activity in general.” He absent-mindedly roams his palms across your back and down to your butt.

A giddy feeling unfurls in your chest. “Well, don’t tell Tae that.”

“Fuck, I should head downstairs.” Jungkook pulls his cock out, coaxing a little whine from you “You have a bin here?”

“In my bathroom.”

While Jungkook gets rid of the condom, you wrap yourself up in the towel again. You need another shower before putting on clothes.

When he steps out, he quickly throws on his swim shorts. “You gonna take a shower?”

“Yeah...need to fix this.”

Genuine confusion spreads on his face. “You look pretty.” With an endearing smile, dimples out and doe eyes sparkling he adds, “Always.”

Something really tightly wraps around your heart. “Thanks.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip to stop your smile from growing.

The doorbell rings downstairs.

“Oh, is that Joon?” you ask joyfully. “I need him to recommend me some books again! I missed him so much.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Jungkook tells you.

You frown. You’re not stupid – obviously you know he has one. You’ve seen the pictures he shared on his Instagram stories. What kinda guy goes to a ceramic painting place? That was obviously a date.

“I know.”

When Namjoon’s loud voice screaming for Jungkook reaches your ears, your tummy churns.

“You need to leave.” You push Jungkook towards the door. He opens it and swiftly walks out.

“Hey, Namjoon, is that you?” Jungkook yells.

As you watch Jungkook leave your room, you want him back immediately. It feels unfair to get a taste of what his kisses and touches feel like only to have them taken away.

But deep down you know you two can’t repeat this. You wouldn’t be able to keep it from your brother. Eventually, Taehyung would figure it out.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

pt 1 & pt 2 here <3

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook college au #jock jungkook #hockey player jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook scenarios

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cherry-leclerc · 23 days

Text

don’t lock the door ☆ cs55

genre: fluff, humor, smut, angst, thriller/suspense, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of homicide, erotic literature, tragedy

word count: 9k

An oleander is beautiful—yet deadly. You’re beautiful—yet deadly. But Carlos has always been gentle, and has always known how to take care of things he loves. And even if he doesn’t, he’s willing to learn, just for you. But you can’t outrun secrets. Not when they have everything to do with the only thing he adores—you.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... fingering, riding, car sex

STOP AND READ:

The story you are about to read is not meant to be admired or looked up to. Regularly, the types of fics that I like to present to all of you are light, humorous, and sweet. While I feel that this story does have occasional glimpses of that, it also deals with heavy topics such as; suicide, depression, and homicide. At the end of the day, I care about all my readers, so if any of you feel like this is not something for you then you are always welcomed to head over to my masterlist for much lighter reads. You all know me by now, so you must know that sometimes I like to mix a story of traditional love with a dash of real life struggles, such as trauma and guilt, in this case. With that, I hope you enjoy word for word.

cherry here!...did you miss me????

Tension is normally one’s enemy. It’s fairly simple, you try your best to avoid what makes your skin crawl. Isn’t that how the story goes?

Not quite.

There’s tension, yes, but it's only because you’re the opposite sex. Nothing beyond that. It could also be because you’re both introduced to each other as a pair of miserable singles. Lewis is the person you share in common.

She’s a close friend, he proclaims as you two shake hands. The touch is sticky, just like hot glue— and for a minute—it feels like a knife cuts this invisible strain in half. He lets himself salivate over your lioness stare; dark, sharp, amorous. You lean towards him just the same; dominant, mature, suggestive.

I’ve seen you race.

He hums, still attached to your desirable touch. Yeah? Why haven’t I seen you then?

Fingers press sternly against his warm skin, as if to provoke him more than he already feels himself falling into. It should be alarming the way his mind slips into a frenzy because of it, but likes it. The rush.

Maybe because I wasn’t rooting for you.

There. Right then, he disconnects. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

You grin. Well, now you know.

“You know what? Mingle—”

“Who says mingle?” you and Carlos question at the same time, judgemental eyes staring coldly.

Lewis blushes. “I-I-Is that not a thing anymore?” Silence. “Fuck, I really am getting old...”

The night consists of mimosas, because according to you, it reminds you of your late-mother. “She liked something fruity, but also fun enough to make her head spin. It was entertaining to watch.”

“How so?”

“She’d ramble on and on. Slurred about her dreams.” A sad smile. “That’s the only reason why I ever found out she wanted to become an author. She was fifty—five decades too old—but she said she wanted one last adventure before retiring. It didn’t even matter if she made it onto the New York Times Best Seller list.”

The way your eyes even out, round and almost doughy, makes him trip for a second because this is not the same girl he shook hands with nearly three hours ago. No, this version of you was almost childlike, but he supposes that's how everyone who loses a parent becomes.

It comes out shy—closed off—your laugh. As if you just caught yourself being too vulnerable. That was always the worst. “Look at me making you my therapist. I have got to stop doing that.”

His mouth opens lamely, ghostly scoff sitting upon his lips. And if it were to be released, it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. It was a weird thing to note. “I like hearing you talk.”

A beat. “We’ve only just met.”

Carlos grins, crinkles tracing the corner of his eyes like some beauty. “Then let's meet some more.”

The opportunity is there, the kind you’ve been looking for. With a sheepish smile, you nod. “I should warn you though, I’m a bit of a mess.”

Finally, the scoff escapes. And like envisioned, you laugh at the sound.

“Consider me warned.”

He fucked you that same night in the back of his car. It was late, so dark that you barely even had the chance to register the fact that you squirted all over his vintage Ferrari.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he pants as he snaps his hips up again, fast motion making you head loll bad. You wonder what he means, but as soon as his long fingers circle your swollen bud, you’re just as good as gone.

He asked you out an hour later, when he dropped you off right in front of your apartment. You happily accepted, unable to hide your excitement.

Your smile falters. “Give me a reason as to why I should say yes.”

“Um, well, you sort of already said…yes?”

The confusion that settles onto his handsome features makes you glow with satisfaction. “I could always change my mind. Pretend this night never even happened.”

Panic rushes harshly against his shoulders. He doesn’t even know why he cares so much, but he does.

Vulnerability is a bitch.

“Huh,” he hums, relaxing against his seat, head hitting the expensive cushion. And you can see it. The challenge. He clicks his tongue, bored all of a sudden. “Listen, I want you, but I certainly don’t need you.”

You realize right there and then—you met your match.

You realize right there and then—you two share the same green pride.

You realize right there and then—

“It was nice getting to know you.”

The only reason you’re even friends with someone like Lewis is because your mother married rich.

Filthy fucking rich.

Then, somehow, married richer by her third and last marriage. The man was twisted, but you never knew just how much. Not for a very long time.

He dabbled in stocks, or some boring shit like that, and later invested in some other crap. Somewhere along the line, you met the Brit.

The same Brit who now hisses at you through the phone.

“God damn it, what happened? Weren’t you two getting along?”

You sigh, rubbing your feet together as you admire the way the navy blue paint covers your pedicured nails. Stormy clouds match your mood as you shake the bottle of pills that lay on top of your desk.

“He’s too vain.”

He groans. “You my dear, dear friend, are looking into a mirror then, I suppose.”

A sharp gasp. “Are you insinuating I’m the same?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“May I remind you that you sit and stare at yourself for God knows how long before any race? Newflash, dickhead, you’re going to sweat, look like shit, and one out of ten times, you’re going to win.”

“I see I triggered something.” He sighs heavily. The sound tells you he’s not really upset or anything, but more so worried. Ever since she died, you’ve been that way.

Snappy. Defensive.

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. I know you.”

And although he can’t see, you still smile fondly. Rattling the bottle of antidepressants, you inch up higher and higher onto your chair until you face your own reflection. Shattered glass stares back at you as you feverishly look down.

“Do you still have an extra pass to this weekend's race?”

There had to be something wrong with you. Everyone could tell, and quite frankly, you could agree. Would you admit to it out loud? No, now that’s something different. Or maybe you’re just odd. That would also make sense. Whatever it was, it would explain as to why everyone around you screams with excitement as the fast cars fly by. You, on the other hand, simply stare with straight lips and empty eyes.

While all clap cheerfully when Lewis finishes on the third step, you cross your arms. While everyone runs out of the Mercedes garage to declare front row, you drag your feet slowly to the last.

While Carlos makes eye contact as he lifts his trophy—notably bigger than the Brits—you yawn.

You’re not impressed.

She’s not impressed, the Spaniard remembers thinking to himself as he smiles wider towards the stacks of cameras that turn him temporarily blind. He selfishly thinks you’re here for him, but he knows that's straight bullshit. Truth be told, it didn’t seem like you were here to support your friend either.

“It’s been so long,” Lewis huffs in disbelief as you stare across with vacant eyes. To him, you’re simply jetlagged. “Can you believe it?”

An exhale. “You did good.” Extending your legs outward, you admire the black tiles that shine back brighter than if it were to be white. “Drinks. On me.”

The Brit laughs. “Deal.”

Somewhere close by, they play jazz.

“Pretty,” you softly speak as you connect your lips to the glass. The live band sways back and forth, only adding to the charm you seem to like. And you like it a lot. “Dance with me.”

Lewis snickers. “I love you to death, but I’m gonna have to go with no.”

You frown. “Come on. I never ask you for anything.”

“You were born with a golden spoon and have used retinol since you were ten, you’re not allowed to ask for anything when you’ve already had everything.”

“Yeah…well not this.” You’re secretly envious of every lady in the room. The way they beam with sincere smiles at their husbands. Boyfriends? Flings? Affairs? Who cares honestly, you were jealous nonetheless.

The Mercedes driver watches as your fingers lazily tap against your lap, as if signaling you’re free. Guilt slithers down his neck as he sighs in defeat. “Fi–”

“Nice seeing you two here.”

Lewis wants to cry with utter thankfulness as Carlos inches closer with a lousy grin. “Hey! Oh God—hey.” You blink. “Wh-what are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, of course, because I’m not.”

The Spanirad shrugs. “I won. Wanted to celebrate, I suppose.” Brown eyes flicker towards you like thunder and suddenly you feel naked under his gaze. You swallow. “You look nice.”

And there it is again—tension.

He cocks his head to the side, almost as if waiting for a compliment of your own. Instead, he finds himself being ignored. Crossing your legs, you lift the empty glass up as the bartender hurries for a refill.

Finally, Lewis speaks up. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay—”

“Who says hay?” you and the brunette spit out with snarkiness. You bite back a smile while he releases a chuckle.

The Brit stands up, chugging the rest of his drink as he waves you two off. “I’m not that old,” he shouts as he turns the corner and disappears.

Carlos takes the time to catch up on your appearance. Last time he saw you, you had longer hair, now it appears you’ve had a trim. He likes it. You were slightly tanner, but now appear a shade lighter. It could just be because it’s winter. It's nice seeing other versions of you.

“So, how have you be—”

“Why are you still here?”

He freezes. It takes him a while to find the strength to open his mouth.

“We never finished our conversation.”

He didn’t fuck you that night, no, he took you dancing. And maybe that’s why it worked this time around. Instead of taking the time to learn all the different types of moans you have, he took the time to learn all about your upbringing.

I learned how to bike when I turned six. Had severe trust issues for a year, so I tried again when I was seven.

That must be where your scars are from, he thinks to himself, but he finds them endearing.

I like long hair, I find it beautiful, but as soon as it’s starting to grow out I think it looks too weird on me.

That must be why your hair is shorter than he remembers, but he loves it. Has the urge to run his fingers through.

My favorite movie is How Harry Met Sally, but quite frankly, I don't find Harry attractive at all, so I never really understood why Sally settled down with him after so long.

And you’re honest. Brutally honest. And he finds that attractive.

“How about you, Mr. Singapore?”

I learned how to kart before I learned how to bike, actually. I, too, have scars on my hands from small crashes.

You blush as you hide yours beneath your coat.

I have two sisters, so I mainly learned how to dance because of them. I hated it at the time, but now I’m quite grateful.

Is it possible to swoon harder?

And I don’t have a favorite film, necessarily, but I’ve watched How Harry Met Sally, and I would agree. Sally was too good looking for him.

You have to laugh. “Is that so?”

He smiles. “The name Harry sounds so…” He winks cooly before running a hand through his locks. You giggle. “He looks more like a Bob.”

“Oh my God! Could you imagine? How Bob Met Sally?” You pause. “Wait, that actually doesn’t sound half bad…”

He chews on his bottom lip slowly, nodding in agreement. Silence engulfs you two as you stare at each other with round eyes. He’s the first to crack a loopy grin and you quickly follow with a sheepish one. Then, it vanishes and he’s left looking like he swallowed a frog.

“Listen, about last time…”

“Long forgotten.”

He halts, almost surprised by your response. “No, no, there’s no need to pretend, I was a—”

“Jerk?”

The Spaniard rolls his eyes. “Great, so you haven’t forgotten.”

You shrug. “I’m a girl. We remember everything.”

“Got it,” he declares. “Ask me again.”

Now it’s your turn to freeze. “What?”

“Ask me why you should say yes to a date with me.”

“You don’t have to do this, we’re good—”

“I know we are, but I still want you to ask.”

You lick your lip anxiously before relaxing your stiff shoulders. He tilts his head as if urging you and you nod. “Why should I say yes to you?”

Satisfaction settles. “Because you like a good challenge.” He leans closer. “And isn't that what this is?”

Carlos Sainz Jr. was made for you.

“Leave me alone,” you scream, veins throbbing, as you rush past him, heading towards the guest room. You’re glad his parents aren’t home at the moment because Lord knows the embarrassment you would feel.

“No. Not until you talk to me.” As simple as that. Your eyes twitch as you turn back, then bring your hands up to your hips. He adores it when you do that, though he probably shouldn’t right now.

“You want to talk?” You let out an unhinged scoff. “Oh, would you look at that, he wants to talk! Now he wants to talk. Well guess what, fuckhead—I don’t.”

With that, you march out into the balcony. His eyes follow the way you light up a cigarette. The way you drink the last drops of champagne that linger in the bottle gifted to you by his mother.

She was kind. She was beautiful. She didn’t deserve someone being this mean to her son.

You barely recognize him because of how blurry your vision is, but his scent does it. Musky. Woody. Calm.

He hands you the familiar pill, then a glass of water. He rushes the champagne away, then takes the cigarette and squashes it against the cold floor. He doesn’t so much call you out for being a lunatic, for upsetting his dogs with all your yelling, or for pushing him. No, he doesn’t do any of that. And you have never been more in love with him than now.

“I know I can be a bit much sometimes…” A sniffle. “I swear I try to catch onto it so you don’t have to deal with any of this, but—”

“You don’t mean it.” He tangles his fingers through your hair as you sob. And it’s soft despite spending the entire day near the ocean. It feels silky. He’s obsessed. “I know you.”

You were made for Carlos Sainz Jr.

“How do I look?”

“Like an angel.” He swears he turns bright red when you blow him a kiss. “Your name must’ve been Bonita in another life because look at you…” A hand flies up to clutch onto his heart as he makes a face. “Though, I must say, you do know how to make me look bad.”

You giggle. “Oh? This old thing? I thrifted it. Nice, eh?”

He groans. “Very, but you’re supposed to be rooting for Spain.” A gag. “Not Italy.”

You frown. “That's all I had. Plus, you’re basically Italian given your working status.”

“No, amor, they pay me to like Italy. It’s a cover up, think about it.”

You huff, popping your hip outward. “Still. I like it, so I’m wearing it while cheering for the opposite team.”

“Always over complicating things.” He laughs. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re a complicated person.”

A deadpan expression. “Suck your own dick.”

“Oi, relax.”

Spinning to face the mirror, you fix your jersey one last time before skipping out the door, tube socks sliding as you go. The Spaniard lets out a dreamy sigh.

Were you flawless? Not at all.

Were you put together? Not without a prescription.

But he loved figuring it all out with you. And that’s called love.

You’re in the middle of a rampage, during dinner. While everyone stares at you puzzled, he simply laughs at your cartoon expressions.

“I mean, I offered!” A pout. “I clearly stated I could get the cap signed for her and she gave me the nastiest, ugliest, dirty-looking glare! I for sure thought her face was permanently damaged.” You relax against the chair, your shaky hand finding its way to your water bottle. “Like sorry for riding your favorite driver…”

Charles laughs nervously. “I don’t think that was a necessary thing to include…”

You shrug, raising your brows over to your boyfriend who struggles to breathe.

The conversation flows easily, like most nights you're all together, but this time there’s a minor bump. You’ve been good about it; avoiding the question for so long. Over the course of time, you’ve managed to be so mendacious, that truly no one knew the truth. Not even Carlos.

“I hope it’s not overstepping, but how did your mum pass?”

He means no harm, Lando, but you just wish so badly that you could believe that. While Carlos and Lewis were the closest thing you have to a family nowadays, even they knew not to ask. You never laid the rules out loud, but they could tell it was an unwanted topic to have on your behalf, no matter how curious they got.

All of a sudden, your mood deteriorates. The look in Lando’s eyes makes sure to strike off as an apology, but you’re so busy looking down onto your lap that you don’t even pinpoint the meaning. The table grows awkward as time ticks by.

No one has the power to change the subject, save you the same way doctors tried to save your mother—because they, too—wonder.

You gulp, feeling small, but far too seen at the same time. It was confusing. “She, um…her last husband…” Everyone feels bad, like you’re some limping puppy, zigzagging down an empty highway, but remain quiet. Then, you look up, stone cold but the tip of your rosy nose and blotchy face is enough reassurance that you still have a beating heart.

“Husband number three strangled her to death.”

You say it like you don’t care. Like it hasn’t affected you at all, and that makes Carlos blink twice as fast as everyone else in the table. A droplet makes its way down your cheek as you let out a light laugh.

“I guess he thought he was some Superior God who had a say in cutting her time short.”

They all freeze.

“I am so sorry for asking—”

“I didn’t need to respond.” You smile lamely. “It’s fine, Lando.”

But it’s not, not even close. They ripped the confession out of your throat, at least that’s what it felt like. No one stepped up, no one said anything.

Your eyes flicker to the only man who makes your heart speed.

He reaches for your hand and you grip it hard.

No one said anything.

Not. Even. Carlos.

You’ve always excelled at holding a grudge. It came fairly simple.

But as you stare at him through the screen, for the first time—and only the first time—you struggle. Maybe it’s his puppy eyes that betray you, or his gentleness anytime he steps near you, you don’t really know.

And you don’t want to.

“I was thinking mariscos.”

Hair flies past your eyes as you squint. He looks particularly handsome today, wearing a linen shirt that drapes over him like some silver armor. Long waves brush against his temples as he returns the squint, slightly smiling at your lips.

“Sounds good to me.”

Soft music roams the isolated restaurant that almost seemed to belong to just you two, and that helps you relax. You could tell it helps him too.

“The car felt good today.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, biting onto a piece of shrimp. “Felt like I was flying.”

You let out a whistle. There’s a comfortable silence that lingers for a while before you raise a brow up to the open sky. “Hey,” you start as his orbs flicker up with all the attention in the world. “Do you believe in angels?”

A moment. “I’d say so, yes. Yes, I do.”

Hum. “You sound freakishly sure.” You inch forward with teasing eyes. “Why?”

“Easy.” Chocolate orbs swirl with adoration. “There’s you.”

“I don’t count.”

He frowns. “And why not?”

“Because you love me, of course you’d say that only to be nice.”

“I say so because I know so.”

“Love is blind, love is blind,” you chant, sipping on his open can.

A second ticks by. “Why do you ask?”

And like the first night he met you, your eyes merge into doe eyes. “Because I do.” A sheepish grin. “And sorry to disappoint, but it’s not you.”

“What’s his name?” he jokes.

But you’re not even listening. “My mom was pure. She was a good person, Carlos.” A beat. “She’s my forever angel.”

His heart physically hurts at your glossy eyes, immediately reaching for your hands. “You must really miss her…”

A wet laugh. “Is there a word stronger than ‘really’? If there is, then that would be one way to say it.”

And he has to apologize, even if it’s seven days too late.

“I’m sorry for not stepping in that night. I-I-I should have said something and you should have said nothing.” Thick brows knit in together. “You don’t know how shitty I felt, but—”

“You wanted to know as well.”

The way his features freeze is enough confirmation. And you can't be mad. Not even a little. Not even a lot.

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Carlos. I should have been more open and honest with you first.” A gust of hot air slaps you across the face. “I tend to shut out people like you because…I don’t know.”

“Vulnerability is a bitch?”

You laugh. “That’s one way to say it.” Orbs scan his beauty with no shame before falling back. “You still have plenty of questions, don’t you?”

“O-of course not.”

Another laugh. “It’s okay. You caught me in a good mood. Go on.”

He’s awkward at first, but slowly eases with the sound of your breathing. “Why hasn’t he been arrested?”

“Because he’s a multi-billionaire.”

He gulps and you blink. “Why haven’t you sued?”

“Because I’m not a multi-billionaire.”

“So…he did a cover up with a wad of cash?”

“Mhm. No one dared ask whose hand shaped bruise was imprinted in her neck.”

He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, but he knows he needs this because he knows it will keep him up the same ways it’s kept him up since that god forbidden dinner.

“This was the cause of your…” He doesn’t even want to finish his sentence.

“Depression…yeah. Losing someone you love will do that to ya.”

But he wants to ask—he wants to ask more because he knows there has to be more. He’s lost people he loves too—and he loved them very much—and he never got this way. In a flash, he feels guilty for comparing his healing process to yours but quickly looks down onto his lap.

And the hot summer rain is enough warning for him not to question you any further.

The Spaniard shares a grateful smile. “Thank you for trusting me. To take care of you, and all t-that,” he stutters, blushing.

“I love you, Carlos.” A beat. “I’ve always trusted you. The only person I don’t trust is myself.”

“Be quiet,” she hisses, urgently signaling you closer. “And make sure to shut the door.”

Confused, you hesitantly push until you hear a click. Inching closer to your mom, you slowly become more and more lost as you eye the scattered papers all over your step-dads office table. “What is all this?”

Color drains from her normally youthful face. Even the brightest shade of red can’t help add life. “Proof of embezzlement.”

“What?”

She slides stacks of black folders towards you and you quickly flip through, to which you don’t understand a single thing. “He’s stealing money, that’s what. We’re not talking thousands, we’re talking millions,” she whispers frantically before growing green. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Okay, okay, hold on, you’re okay.” Rushing to be next to her, you clumsily tie her hair up into a messy ponytail before fanning her with the white sheets. You wince, quickly placing them back down. “How did you even come across this?”

Just as fast as a lighting bolt, she spins the chair. “I’m starting my book—” She gags, “I was supposed to start today, but I came in here looking for his typewriter. You know, the one with the tiny cherubs?” Across the office, you spot it, the tiny angels delicately painted onto the infamous typewriter. You nod. “Well, I started to search for some paper and instead found all of this…”

Even you grow dizzy as you eye the infinite zero’s that jump out against all types of sums. That’s not even enough to spend in ten lifetimes. It was no wonder he just recently made it onto The Forbes list. Her eyes—honest as ever—make you panic as you twirl your thumbs. “Wait…you’re not thinking of confronting him about it, are you?”

“I have to.” Pause. “Right?”

No. You don’t want her to. Not in any scenario. It’s taken you both so long to reach the life you deserve, and now that you were finally here it’s about to be ripped away from you? Your lack of words makes her glare.

“I don’t know why I’m asking you, I have to! It’s the right thing to do.”

Adrenaline. “Mom, just think about it—”

“I did not raise you to be avaricious,” she spits out, fire practically fuming out of her. You flinch. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Y-you’re right.” There goes all your money down the drain. “I’m with you no matter what.”

Knock knock.

Like mother-daughter, you both freeze as your eyes flicker to the sound.

“Angelica, are you in there?”

You never liked the name Angelica. Not on anyone else that wasn’t your Angelica.

Running over to open, she finds herself face-to-face to Lucifer himself as he cocks his head in humor. “Locking me out of my own office now?” He enters. “Fun.” Dark eyes roam the messy area. “Fun.”

Her eyes plead with you in a language only you both knew, but never did you mean to obey. You wanted to stay with her—something told you to stay with her.

“Honey, give us some privacy, yeah?”

“U-uh…” He winks like that was the go-ahead. Like that was the last permission you needed to agree. And maybe it was.

Deep down it’s almost like you knew he had sinister intentions. Deep down it’s almost like you knew he was capable of committing those sinister intentions.

Deep down.

It’s like you don’t even care.

You smile, tight lipped. “Whatever you need.”

You heard the argument that night, you heard the threats. You heard her pleads, you heard her chokes. You could only imagine what was going on inside, but you were your mothers daughter. You could imagine quite a lot.

She could’ve been an author—with his resources she might just have hit the New York Times Best Seller list. She could have been a grandmother one day—surely your kids would have lived a luxurious life.

She could have been obedient. Why wasn’t she obedient? Was it so hard to brush it all under the rug?

He was sweating, just as much as a pig. Or maybe he’s glowing, he is smiling after all. Here and there he apologizes in a lousy manner, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was—

“How much money am I gonna get to keep?”

He’s intrigued. “How much do you want?”

“Enough to not have to worry.” You can still see it; cramped rooms, tin canned meals on paper plates. You could never go back.

An eye roll. “You’re just like her…” A beat. “Fucking greedy.” You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’re embarrassed—-of course you were—who is he to judge? He sighs. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“It means I’m not transferring you anything. I want you out of this house no later than Sunday.”

Plump lips open, then snap shut, teeth gritting. “I’ll tell everyone that you’re a murderer. You’ll lose it all, w-watch.”

He’s not phased. Not even in the slightest. “And who’s going to believe you? Tell me, really, because I’d like to know.”

Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything.

And fuck yourself for having nothing at all—again.

Months swept by, the death was ruled a suicide, and antidepressant became your loyal friend. There was no one else, and sometimes you feared there would always be no one else.

Then—by some miracle—there was Carlos.

He was handsome. He was shy. He was sweet. He was kind.

He was rich.

You played hard to get, but so did he. You played the long haul, but so did he. You were a fantastic liar, but he was an ever better believer.

And it all clicked.

Just the way it was supposed to.

You’ve been accustomed to a certain lifestyle for years now, but somehow you’re always surprised about the sudden boost you’ve switched to ever since you’ve met him.

Chanel heels turned into red bottoms. Last season dresses turned into those that were not yet released. You loved everything about it.

“You look so beautiful, cariño,” he groans against your lips, desperate for more. His large hands play with the silky fabric, fighting to slide it up against your hips. You shudder. “I mean…come on.”

“Hey, hey—that’s sweet and all—” You push yourself closer to his toned body, immediately feeling his erection. You nearly whimper. “But why don’t you fuck me instead?” A kiss. “You missed me, no?”

And instead—he whimpers. “How dare you even ask?”

With that, he picks you up with ease, pinning you against the wall. You’re dizzy, because unbeknownst to him, he’s casted a spell on you. Never did you think you could fall in love, much less, have someone reciprocate.

Tender fingers make their way to your clit as you lunge forward, biting down onto his shoulder. It should amaze you how he holds you up with one arm, but you’re not. If anything, you leak more and more by every passing second.

His dirty pants make you fold as you clench around him. The way they curl, the way they pulse, all of it was your kryptonite.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you squeal, keeping your eyes trapped shut, feeling the familiar knot forming. He grins, pecking your sweaty forehead, digits speeding up. Berry lips form an O as you moan louder with every push.”I-I’m c-c-close—oh God.”

“Shh. It’s okay, let go for me, yeah? I’m right here with you.”

Gritting your teeth harder, you moan like some pornstar as you finish all around him. Almost like some rule, he desperately sucks his fingers clean. The Spaniard hums like he’s living his biggest dream of all before opening his round eyes.

“So sweet.”

You blush. “Yours tastes like shit.”

He laughs. “And yet you beg for me to finish all over your face, isn’t that so?”

Nearly choking at his bluntness, you fight back a smile as you play with his floppy locks. They’ve grown so much from the last time you saw him, so this was certainly eye candy to you. He sighs, relaxing as you continue to twirl thick strands around your fingers.

Soft legs still drape over his waist, hands still lay around your waist, and even breathing connects you both. Carlos feels like he’s nearly dozing off, but his hand remains firm, preferring to take a bullet than to let you fall.

You like to think that you like his lashes the best. But then there’s his eyes. And his nose. And his heart. And his lips. And his hands. And his sculpture body. And his jokes. And his laugh. And his freckles. So you never could choose, not truly.

Inching closer to his ear, you smirk slowly. “Wanna fuck my mouth?”

His eyes snap open, jaw clenching. “You’re such a tease.”

A shrug. “Want to or not?” You bite your lip, legs letting go of his hips as you slide down. “Because this offer ends in five…” He raises a skeptical brow. “Four…” You motion him closer to which he steadily follows. “Three…” He laughs. “Two, one!”

Sprinting up the stairs in a flash, you giggle as he chases after you. The sound of his steps make your heart beat faster as you jump onto your shared bed. Rushing past the corner, he cocks his head to the side as he clicks his tongue. Stepping into the room carefully, he swung the door closed before locking it. You frown.

“Reassures me that no one will walk in.”

“No one will walk in,” you whisper as your stomach drops. “There’s no need t-to—”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees, taking in your breathless state. “But I prefer it this way. Just you.” A closer stride. “And me.”

Palms are sweaty. Blood slithers down your throat and thighs. And yet your freeze. You feel hot and cold, all at once. You don’t like the feeling, any of it, but you try to ignore the inner monologue.

“You look stunning,” he states, finally reaching you. “You always do.”

Your speeding heart lessens. “T-thank you.”

A beat. “You’re not nervous—are you?”

Hastily, you shake your head. “N-no! Of course not!”

Thick brows knit together. “Because you normally aren’t.” His smile fades. “W-we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to, you know that right?”

Physically, you’re cringing. Mentally, you’re spiraling. The act itself makes the Spaniard withdraw, taking a steady step back and shaking his head. Panic rises fast as you crawl closer to him, reaching the end of the bed.

“I just have a lot on my mind, but I want this.” A beat. “I want you.”

It’s as if you’re a blank sheet of paper, blinking up at Carlos with such innocence. So much so, it makes his heart stop. He looks for reassurance, which you give him, and he looks for it again, which you give again without hesitance.

“Come on, Carlitos…” you slowly whisper, batting your eyes. “I know you’ve missed my mouth.”

If you weren’t so breathtaking, if you weren’t so seductive, if you weren’t so goddamn tempting then surely turning you down wouldn’t be an issue. By alas, you’re here—and even better—you’re all his.

“Eres un sueño.” It seems like an eternity passes by before he finally steps close to you once again, getting rid of whatever distance you ever had. Like it was never meant to be there to begin with. “Can I kiss you first?”

It’s sweet that he feels the need to build up to fucking you sore, but sweet nonetheless. That’s one thing you love about him—and there’s a lot to choose from—his respect towards you. Smiling warmly, you extend your arm, inviting him like an angel before he smashes his lips against you like the devil.

The contrast. It’s just what you needed.

“God, I fucking love you.”

“I—” His lips press harsher as he continues marking his territory. All of it was making your head spin like a rollercoaster. “I love you too,” you manage to spit out as he makes his way down. You blush. “I-I-I sort of wanted to…”

He blinks. “Sort of what?”

“Well, you know…” You point towards his hardened cock.

And he actually snickers. “Cat got your tongue today or what, bella?”

A groan. “You’re so fucking annoying—”

“No, no, no,” he cuts in with a whistle. “By all means, go ahead.”

Desperate hands crazily reach out towards his belt in a nanosecond. You should be ashamed how hopeless you are, but you don’t find enough strength to care. Not when he was looking down at you with hungry eyes.

“Tan linda,” he whispered underneath his breath. As if you weren’t meant to hear him. As if he can’t quite believe it’s you he gets to keep. This must all be a dream to him, he thinks.

Just as you’re about to pull his jeans down, large hands get ahold of your wrists. Confused, you look up at him, head tilted and messy hair falling over your shoulder. He grins wickedly.

“Just one more kiss.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me—”

But his soft lips move with such urgency that you don’t even have time to bitch and moan. Not that you’re trying. You can feel it; the hunger, the lust. The way you run your fingers through his hair, or how he squeezes your ass. In a matter of seconds, the room grows steamy, hot breaths expanding with every peck. It’s as if Carlos was too afraid of being ripped away from you even for a second, scared your lips might change and he wouldn’t know a thing about it.

Not knowing you might be his biggest fear.

It happens without a warning, his grip. You feel it slide slowly up your ribs—you remember thinking how much you like it, how much it tickles. Then it reaches your chest, to which his eager hands squeeze your tits, pathetically moaning into your mouth. You can’t help but giggle, but still not separating. And then…

It reaches your neck.

As soon as he squeezes, your eyesight begins to blur, but he doesn’t notice. Your chest begins to rise and fall at an alarming rate, but he doesn’t notice. And you’re terrified.

But he doesn’t notice.

“Carlos,” you whimper, but he takes it as a good sign, mouth moving with ease. “Carlos, honey…”

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is deep. “You like that?” Large palm squeezes harder. “Bet you do.”

“Okay, stop!” you scream, arms flying like some madman. “Let go of me!”

Panicked, he releases you in a hurry, jumping off of your trembling body. Color drains his face as realization hits him, but it's too late. You’re sobbing hard, shoulders bouncing up and down. The way you crawl back with fear makes his heart break as he shakes his head, running a hand against his jaw.

“Fuck.” More cries. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I am so sorry, baby…” Desperate eyes stare back at you as you hide your face against your shaky hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. I should have known, I should have known.” Inching closer proves to be a mistake when you leap off the bed, throwing a mountain of pillows like daggers.

“Stop it,” you demand. “Stay. Right. There.”

He flinches. “Are you afraid of me?”

The laugh that erupts from your throat is unlike the others he’s heard. It’s almost maniacal. It makes his skin grow with goosebumps. “Is that even a question?” Dark mascara runs down your cheeks as you breathe heavily. “You just tried to kill me.”

“No,” he pronounces. “No, you know that that’s not true. I-I-I thought you’d like it!” The glare you flicker is enough for him to wince, pinching the tip of his nose. “I should have known better, okay? Please, just…calm down.”

All your sniffles come to an end as you freeze. “Are you calling me crazy?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh my God.” Pushing your hair back, you release a chuckle. “You actually think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, stop putting words into my mouth.”

A scoff. “Okay, wow.”

He doesn’t have a clue as to how he continues to dig himself into a hole—and yet—here he is. Digging his own grave. Exhaling hard, he licks his lips before looking straight into your glossy eyes. “I love you,” he starts, but you remain as still as a statue. “And I want us to work through this. I want to be able to talk to you, yeah?” A beat. “I’m sorry about…what I did, I should have never done it knowing you’re…traumatized.”

He’s almost scared to see your reaction, but it never comes. Instead, you blink hastily, as if you’re mortified.

You should’ve known. You should have figured that karma would catch up to you sooner or later.

I mean, all sins must be paid for, right?

As soon as he starts closing the gap, you’re thumping heart picks right back up. “I just want to talk—”

“No.”

Despite his hurt, he continues his march towards you. “I just want to be near you, please—”

“I said no!”

It happens almost in the blink of an eye, the sound of glass shattering. He sort of thinks he must’ve imagined it, your hand flying to punch the mirror right besides you, but the gentle blood that oozes out of your hand makes his heart stop. Suddenly, all the scars you have make sense. So much makes sense.

“Just…stay there, Carlos,” you say, voice trembling, small hand holding out a piece of sharp glass towards him like some wannabe knife. You bite your bottom lip. “Just—there.”

“Cariño…”

“Stop it with that,” you plead, teardrops slipping. “Stop calling me that.”

Somewhere in the shard, he catches his reflection. Half-scared, half-brokenhearted. He doesn’t even know how you two got to this point.

He gulps. “Okay. I’ll stop, I’ll stop, but please put that down.” You shake your head fast, splotchy cheeks flushing furthermore. Carlos sighs desperately. “Come on—you’re bleeding.”

“I’m used to it by now.”

Tension resurfaces once again between you both as you stare at each other, awaiting for the next challenge. Playing the silent game for a second, curious to see who breaks next.

“Why did you lock the door?”

He almost laughs. “We always shut the door—”

You raise the blade up higher as you begin to lose patience. Deep down, you know you’re not capable of harming him, but how could you ever let your guard down once again when he tried to strangle you to death?

History almost repeats itself, and you’ll be damned if you ever let it happen.

“You said it, we shut it but we never lock it.” A soft cry. “What were you planning on doing to me, Carlos?”

It’s like a knife to the heart, you’re sudden distrust. The brunette finds himself struggling to breath as he blinks like a lost deer.

“You know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose, at least…”

You let out a wet snarl, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you.”

A flinch. “All of this was a mistake and I adore you.”

“You don’t, though,” you protest, the shaky vision intensifying. “If not you wouldn’t have tried to mur—”

“For the last time, I’m not your step-father!” It’s as if he’s finally reached his breaking point, just now. His body is tired. His mind is tired. Everything is just tired of trying. Carlos shrugs lamely. “If you don’t want to believe me…so be it.”

The pain that rains out of him should be enough for you to know that he’s telling the complete truth. He’s a good guy, with pure intentions. He’s not here to get even with you on your mothers behalf. None of what you’re imagining is true.

But you just can’t seem to understand.

“I don’t believe your lies, alright?” you spit out with deep breaths. You drop the blade, finally. “Open the door.”

With his head hung low, he complies, feet dragging with every step. And finally, with a hand on the knob, he turns to give you one last glance. He can tell you’re holding in your breath and he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Why it make him feel so much like a monster…

Click. The wooden door swings open as he pushes it gently.

“Now leave.”

A wave of nausea strikes with your words. “Amor—“

“Stop. Don’t even look at me.” Tension. “I don’t want to see you ever again—not even by accident.”

And that was the last stab that ended it all.

Every now and then, he wonders how you are. Hopefully better.

He hears your name mentioned once in a blue moon, but instinctively blocks it out, too disturbed at the thought of what occurred between you two.

What did occur between you two?

He could take a guess and say that you’re internally fucked. Straight and simple.

But it’s still annoying. The way he wishes to forget you with every passing birthday wish.

At first, it was because he missed you. He just wanted to forget you because he missed you—yes.

Later, it was because the memory of the cramped room suffocated him. The sound of glass breaking was stronger than the sound of his car crashing. And somehow the latter seemed better.

He just wanted to forget that day—yes.

Staring off into space has been his thing for a long time, often getting called out on it. Now, he finds himself with his eyes closed, too scared that someone might notice his feelings and feel the need to ask if he’s okay.

He hasn't been. Not since you.

“Grape or watermelon?”

Popping and eye open, he catches a glance of Lewis before rolling over. “I’m good.”

It’s tough, this silent war between both his friends. The break up simply made this…tough. Especially when no one really knows what happened.

Setting the electrolytes down, the Brit claims a spot next to the brunette. Groaning at the unwanted company, Carlos switches to sit upright. Brown eyes glare strongly before Lewis laughs it off.

“How you doin’, bud?”

Great, no yeah, just severely depressed thanks to your so-called friend. Would you mind asking her where she gets her antidepressants from for me? I mean, I would, but last time we saw each other she, uh, I don’t know, tried to stab me? And you know what’s the most fucked up shit? It’s the fact that I still love her just the same.

I just wanted to help.

He forces a shy smile. “Fine.”

A pity grimace. “I can tell she misses you, you know?”

Carlos hates how excited the thought of you alone—dreamily sighing for his return—gets him to sit up straighter, suddenly interested. It’s foolish, really.

“She would never admit it, but I can tell because I know—”

“Her?” The Spaniard lets out a mocking scoff. “Trust me, you don’t. Not entirely.”

That shuts Lewis right up as he sits there, staring blankly. A dark brow furrows. “Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two—not that I need to know—but she’s a good person. And so are you. So…don’t be afraid of reaching out.”

He flickers his brown eyes accusingly. “Why should I? Did she put you up to this?”

“She didn’t—“

But the fact is, the hesitation gives him away. Anger arises as the Spaniard rolls his eyes. “I knew it, God, I knew it!” A second. “I know her.”

The Brit drowns with nervousness as he waves his hands in despair. “She just wants you to apologize!”

A singular laugh. “Apologize for what?” He pauses, squinting at his friend. “She didn’t tell you why we broke up, did she?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t really know who’s fault it was, do you?”

Lewis looks down onto his lap. “No. Not really.”

“Great, then let me be the one to tell you that it was both of ours. I’m no saint but neither is she.”

An award silence lingers as the Spaniards voice echoes the room. Lewis nods. “Understood. I got it, okay?”

He sighs an irregular sigh. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” A sheepish grin. “It’s not my place to fix anything about your guys’ relationship, I get it.”

Carlos’ face switches to bright red as he nods his head once. “T-thanks.”

The Brit, ever happily, stands up firmly before patting his back. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“Gracias.” Lewis is just a few steps away when he clears his throat before he can even stop himself from asking. “How’s she doing?”

It came across almost softer than a mumble, and one might have missed it if not alert, but not Lewis.

Spinning to face the almost manchild with round eyes, he smiles as bright as the sun, and that makes his stomach turn. Because he knows. He knows you’re doing—

“Really well.”

Fluffy hair falls down as he tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s good.” Sure. He returns the same smile with a twitch. “That’s really good.”

Lewis has known you two for a long time now. He’s unwillingly memorized your ticks. How the right side of your face slightly twitches before every lie, or how the left side of his does the same before every lie. Much like right now.

The Brit contemplates for a minute, then two, then opens his mouth in the most hesitant manner.

“She’s moving to Germany.” Carlos freezes. “Only for a few months. Maybe a year, who knows. But…you should read her book.”

He unfreezes. “Her what?”

A faint smile. Eyes crinkled. “It’s a tough read, but I believe it was necessary. You know, to finally talk about it.”

He never quite believed you would open up this way, and yet here he was, in an unknown bookstore, spacing out. Your name jumps out like some shooting star, too difficult to ignore.

Without a doubt, you’d get a lawsuit from your step-father. Of course—you were only dragging the last name of what seemed to be the world's richest man.

For what it’s worth, Carlos is proud. This must mean you’re open to moving on. To get the necessary help you so desperately need. From start to finish, the pages are enticing. You go into gruesome depth, something you never seemed to have a problem in doing. From the mention of how her eyes remained open with no sign of life, only terror, to the fact that you got your many scars from punching the door, trying to get in on time. How he bribed his way against the laws.

Everything seemed to be coming out.

So then why, as he sits in his driver's room, staring at your picture in the back of the book, does he feel like doesn’t believe it?

Not even a generous half.

Angelica lived up to the first five letters of her name.

She was there for you in the moments you needed her the most. She braided your hair for playdates, she tied your shoe laces even when you were too embarrassed to ask, and she worked her way up, making sure you had it all.

Undeniably, she was one hell of a woman. Then again, she had more within her—pulled some trigger you never thought she’d pull.

You were going to lose it all, why couldn’t she foresee that? That conversation was going to rip your inheritance straight from your tight grip; the one that ensured your future vacations. How could she ever betray you? Her own daughter?

You were acquisitive. You were possessive. You were partially responsible for her death.

But call it naiveness, you really thought it’d work.

No one will truly know the way your soul left your body when you heard you wouldn’t get a single dollar. Not even a fucking cent. You had to find some other way to stay secure.

But Carlos was out to get you, you just know he was. You don’t have a clue as to how he found out about the truth, about what happened inside that stupid mansion, but he knew it all. And you had to get out of there.

Only it led you back to square one. With no purpose. With no money. Fuck men and their actions, seriously, too all hell with them.

However, you were your mothers daughter at the end of the day.

You could be a writer. An even better one that she could've ever been. If you wanted to, you could do it.

And that is exactly what you did.

You typed, and typed, and typed until your fingers would cramp up. The multi-billionaire was a leviathan and everyone would see that no matter what.

You, on the other hand, were an innocent bystander. Too weak to intervene, to fight back. Too young. Yeah. That was what happened that night.

But you also had your own perspective. One your mom could never match.

While she married for the illusion of love, you would’ve married for money with no shame. Carlos just happened to be the luckiest of strikes because you got both.

While she always was at the front of the room without having to try, you were always in the back with a bitter smile. Why did she get to have two dimples? All eyes would have surely been on you if you had at least one.

And while she never cared about reaching the New York Times Best Seller list—you did.

She would have jumped with joy just by selling ten copies, but not you. You always wanted more—craved more. Label it as ambition.

More copies sold means more money. A trust fund means more money. Playing the victim against your step-father means even more money. So yeah…

You did care about that stupid list.

Tilting your head back against your seat, you flinch at the taste of the pill, too familiar for your liking, but the wine helps. It always does nowadays.

Buzz.

Picking up with a level of indifference was all fake—you had been yearning this call for what seemed like your whole life.

“Hey.” His voice is almost raw. Like he could use a couple cough drops. “I-I-I read your book. It was incredible.”

And for the first time in a while, you smile. “Thank you, that means a lot, Carlos.”

You can hear the static against the line, indicating once again that you’re on opposite sides of the world and not together. You can almost bet that it will always stay that way.

The Spaniard coughs awkwardly into your ear.

“Oh, and also, congrats on making it onto the New York Times Best Seller.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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unholyhelbig · 3 months

Note

More Wandanat pls 😊

Title: Are you Avoiding me?

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2935

Warnings: pet names, sexual situations implied, broken glass, and horrible spelling (I don't proofread).

Summary: It's becoming harder and harder for reader to avoid both Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Things only get worse when they're cornered in their lab.

[A/n: This is just a little drabble, that's been sitting in my drafts for months, nothing with too much sustinance! I've been distracting myself lately with Wenclair content instead of writing]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

There were thousands of mugs with Shield’s logo on the side that floated around the compound, changing hands between agents and the high-ranking Avengers. It’s why you felt less bad about dropping the one in your grasp to the floor. It shattered into dozens of pieces, and the rest of the pale coffee you were drinking seeped out of the wreckage.

“Ow! Why? Why?” Clint’s voice had turned to a growl by the end of his sentence. He had righted himself and gripped his own mug to his chest, leveling you with a glare that was much too vicious this early in the morning.

The words were trapped in your throat and you dropped down behind the kitchen island, pressing yourself close enough to the wood to become apart of the grain. If you could just hide long enough for them to wander away, then all would be well.

The archer glanced down at you, and then back to the hallway that passed the communal kitchen. Natasha Romanoff had her brow furrowed, lifting a sculped eyebrow at him. She had just come back from her morning run, a fine sheen of sweat coating her muscles. He gave her a shrug and that was enough encouragement to send her on her way.

You let out a long sigh at the sound of her footsteps retreating. “Don’t look at me like that, Barton.”

“I can look at you anyway I want to, you’re the one that would rather be on the ground than talk to Natasha.”

It wasn’t just talking to Natasha. It was looking at her too; breathing the same air as her, meeting her fern-colored eyes across the room and ceasing to have a tangible thought pattern. You were an Avenger, for fucks sake, an ex-KGB spy shouldn’t make you fumble the way that you did.

“It’s not that hard, y/n. She’s harmless, really.”

That was easy for him to say. You huffed quietly and picked up the broken pieces of mug before depositing them into the trashcan. Coffee would make you too jittery anyway. So, if you really thought about it, your nerves had done you a favor.

“She’s terrifying.” You said, reaching for an empty glass. You filled it up with tap water and tentatively took a sip. It went down clunky and cold. “And gorgeous.”

“A combination that renders you absolutely useless.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Clint lifted both of his eyebrows at you, not saying a word. He didn’t have to. And you didn’t need all of this judgement from him in the first place. He had been so scared of Natasha that he couldn’t bring her in, in the first place. He would tell it differently, but you didn’t stick around to find out.

There were other things that you had to do; like a mountain of paperwork and a few modifications to the Vibranium arm that had found its way onto your desk. A cold shower wouldn’t do you any harm either. And if your fingers were to wander? No one would know.

You flashed him the middle finger, abandoning all thoughts of nourishment for the day. Tony kept his labs stocked with bottled water and granola bars after some nagging from Pepper. That would hold you over until lunch and if you started to drift, there were plenty of electrical sources that would give you a low-grade jolt.

Most of the time, you kept your head down, earbuds in even if they weren’t playing music. It was easier not to get caught up in the fanfare of the Avengers. Most of them were human, and they made human mistakes even if they weren’t.

You answered your superiors and fixed any problems that arose with tech and machinery, sometimes even costuming. Those things were simple, cut and dry. Your feelings for Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff weren’t even slightly that.

There was admiration from afar, and Clint would even say a numbness that clouded your brain completely. That celebrity that all other agents produced around any of the spandex wearing heroes often evaded you.

But each time Wanda stepped through the doors of your lab to get a personal watch fixed, or once, a VHS player that had the scent of smoke and burning plastic. She’d jutted out her lower lip when a copy of ‘I Love Lucy’ was burnt to a crisp.

Despite your meager salary, you had found one at the thrift and set it outside her door without a word. Not a romantic gesture, Clint. You should have seen her face. It was something you’d do as a friend, a co-worker.

Your shoulder collided with something strong, yet soft. There was a small grunt released from the back of your throat. You got a mouthful of the scent of rain and vanilla tobacco. But strong hands were suddenly gripping your forearms, keeping you steady.

Your eyes widened and met with curious hazel ones. You thought you gave Natasha enough time to get back to her room. But here she was, in that tight tank top, sweat drenching the collar. She looked beautiful, the lights overhead hitting her.

Agent Romanoff reached up and pulled one of your earbuds out, letting it hang loose against your chest. “Doctor y/l/n, are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding?” You laughed with a little too much force, compensating for the lost air by snorting and instantly regretting it. A light blush fell over your cheeks. She didn’t look mad, in fact, she looked quite amused. “No, no. I’m not avoiding.”

“So, what would you call ducking down behind the counter in the kitchen?”

“How did you…”

“I’m a superspy and you’re not exactly subtle.”

Yeah. You’d forgotten about that. She didn’t’ allude to the fact, simply continuing on her way and leaving you to your horrible conversation with Clint. But then she had waited in front of your lab, her own clearance not allowing her past the sliding doors without you in it.

She lilted her head to the side “Don’t worry about it, it’s actually rather adorable.”

The heat against your cheeks started to spread down your neck and to your collarbone. If she noticed, and of course she noticed, she didn’t’ say anything. But she released her hold, and you fought back a whimper of disappointment.

“What can I do for you, Agent Romanoff?”

“Us, actually.” She responded, eyes darting towards the locked doors. “I’d rather talk somewhere a bit more private, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely that’s alight. If this is about the Widow Bites that I redesigned then I can most definitely tweak them. We don’t want you to get a jolt every time you use them. Not that I’m saying you’re not skilled enough to avoid that,”

You kept talking as you swiped your card and it with a beep, walking into the instant familiarity of your lab. There was a coolness there for tactical purposes, but it washed over your heated skin and hopefully took some of the soft color away.

You started to flit around the lab, flicking on all the lights and the different purifiers. There was an experiment that Fitz was working on that needed a rotating heat source and that was turned on as well.

“If we remove the outer panel and with a little tweaking, we can make them non-lethal, heavy with stopping power. They can break up under the sub-cutaneous tissue-“

Again, you ran into Natasha. Her body was so warm and solid, stable compared to the way you buzzed about. The door had slid shut behind you, its frosted glass exterior shielding you from the rest of the world.

This time you didn’t’ rush to apologize, instead you pushed your glasses up to the center of your nose and stared at her in a comfortable silence. “This wasn’t about your widow bites. You said us.”

She nodded at you, suddenly seeming quite shy herself. You’d never seen her avert her gaze before and something about the reaction worried you. Your stomach was doing somersaults, flipping back and forth between pure panic and excitement. This was the longest you two had spent in one another’s space without you bolting from the room.

“For the past six months I’ve been involved in a sexual relationship with Wanda Maximoff.”

“Uh,”

It was the only word that you could muster. Thoughts that flushed your cheeks all over again ran through your mind; bare breasts pressed against each other, lips hungrily clashing, hands raking up perfectly toned muscles. Your eyes were hazy with lust, but you blinked it away just as fast as it had settled. Natasha ghosted a smirk regardless.

“It was purely sexual, we both needed to blow off some steam. I’m sure you know how that is.”

On nights when you needed to ‘blow off steam’, you went into the empty training room and ran for six miles before taking a stark cold shower to loosen your muscles. When you ran, you forgot about the dip of Natasha’s collarbone and the dexterity of Wanda’s fingers.

Now that you thought about it, there were signs that the two of them had something and why shouldn’t they? Subtle touches that led to more. The tenderness in Natasha’s eyes betrayed more. If she hadn’t noticed yet, you weren’t going to be the one to tell her.

“It was fun for a while, a supply closet here, the gym floor there. But going on month seven it’s almost losing its… spark.”

“I’m sorry?” You were cautious with your words, and she giggled, the Black Widow herself was giggling at you.

“I’m not so good at this.”

“You’re good at everything.”

She smiled “Wanda insisted that I come and talk to you first because you’re skittish. Moreso around her than me. She was upset when I told her you let me stay the afternoon in here last week, just watching you work.”

Each move you made that day was languid. There was a nervousness to you that seemed to vanish when you could open up the back of a monitor and stare at the innerworkings. You were recruited right out of MIT, and though you had been offered more than one job, you jumped at the idea of working in the Stark tower, living here.

She worked her hand through her hair and sighed “see, not so good at this.”

“What exactly is this?”

Natasha furrowed her brow and a small crease formed between her eyebrows in response. You wanted to reach up and smooth it away with the subtle touch of your thumb. That part wasn’t complicated, not like people usually were.

So, you did just that, you touched the pad of your finger to her soft, warm skin and pressed until the tension started to leave her body. Natasha’s fingers wrapped around your wrist and moved your hand until you cupped her cheek. She sighed into the embrace; eyes closed for more than a single moment.

“I want you, y/n.” She mumbled against the palm of your hand, turning it to the side and delivering a single kiss to the pulse point on your wrist. You were sure that she could feel the quickness in which it thrummed. “So does Wanda.”

You were dizzy, suddenly glad for her hold on you. Months, close to a year, you had spent ducking behind counters and taking the long way back to your dorm. They were both stunning to an intimidating degree, to the point where it devastated you.

“Say something, please” Natasha whispered, voice breaking “I know this is a lot and you can absolutely decline. We can forget this conversation ever happened and you can go back to breaking coffee mugs.”

“No! I mean, no. I don’t want to go back to breaking coffee mugs. I think Clint is running a tab, and Mr. Stark isn’t exactly generous with our salaries.”

A grin spread across Natasha’s face. It was like being wrapped in a warm towel after a long day in the rain. You’d do anything to make her smile. You were in down bad, not that you’d admit it to Bird Boy.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, not trusting your ability to vocalize anything right now. Her lips were on yours, soft and tender. She kissed you slowly, with purpose. The two of you savored the moment, a sigh of extasy escaping you, your arms winding around her shoulders, hers pressing against your spine.

Natasha broke the embrace, staring hazily at you. That cocky smile had turned into a wonderstruck and borderline goofy one. Have you broken the superspy? She’d certainly made you waver. You were effectively rendered silent.

“Oh, sweet girl, how easy it is to fluster you.” Natasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “But I fear that a certain witch is lurking just close enough for you to open the door.”

It slid open on its own with a dejected beep. You glanced down at the pocket of your lab coat, badge still attached. A small pout made its way to your lips but softened when Wanda stalked into the mostly empty lab, you felt your defenses lower.

The remnants of red twirled around her fingers- and god, you didn’t mean to stare, but they held a power to them. With Natasha slotted against your body, the primal scent of her, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. Oh, how good they’d feel on your tongue.

A pink blush crept up her collarbone and at the tips of her ears. Wanda raised a perfectly sculpted brow at you. There was no doubt in your mind that your thoughts were loud enough for her to hear them. And somehow, you didn’t mind one bit. You’d never imagine being this bold with either of them, but the kiss with Natasha had left you heady, greedy for more.

“Have you been able to do that the whole time?” You panted out, watching the door slide shut once more.

“Well, yes. But I respect your privacy… to an extent. You have quite the dirty mind, don’t you?”

“I… you… no!”

You pulled away from Natasha, crossing your arms over your chest. If you weren’t careful, your glasses would fog up just by being in the same vicinity as them both. Sure, there had been a few times where you’d let your mind wander; images of Wanda shoving you against the wall, pinning your arms above your head.

Natasha taking you over the lab table that you made sure was meticulous in every single way each night before you left. The thought of them taking control was alluring, tantalizing. You thought all the time, too much about every move you made. You didn’t want to admit that you’d welcome not thinking at all, even if it was only for a few moments.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Wanda soothed.

“That’s why Stark keeps me in the basement.”

She’d gotten impossibly close. You could smell the lavender shampoo that often accompanied her. They were both taller than you, though, not by much. Your breath still hitched in your throat at her proximity. Wanda tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, lilting her head to the side in a way that made your knees feel unstable.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, and a smile moved across her lips. “You need to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Wanda.” Natasha wrapped her arms around your midsection, resting her chin against your shoulder. You felt the incredible warmth she provided, nearly sighing into it. “This is a lot to take in. Baby steps.”

You couldn’t tell which of the two held more control over the situation, but didn’t much care when you felt Wanda’s breath hot against your lips. She closed the distance and you kissed until it stung, until your lungs were begging for air. A desperate noise that you had never made before escaped you when she broke the embrace.

All the while, the calloused pads of Natasha’s fingers were running softly over the expanse of skin between your waistband and shirt. Her touch was so delicate and impossibly warm compared to the coolness of the lab.

Natasha hugged you closer, and you allowed her to. Everything about both women surrounding you screamed control. The darkness that settled over Wanda’s stare made a wetness pool between your thighs. You squeezed them together in an attempt of subtly.

It was like fooling a seer. They could read your body like an open book and you clenched your eyes shut but could still feel the grin that stretched across Natasha’s face in the crook of your neck. It would be so easy to give up control to them.

“Does anyone else have the key to your lab?” Wanda purred, her hand splayed on your chest in a startling grounding motion. Your eyes snapped open, hazy with lust.

You were breathless, stunned. “Just you.”

Wanda’s head tilted, her tongue darting out against her bottom lip. Chills pushed down your spine, Natasha’s hold tightening around your center. You were sure that you’d catch flame right there and wake up from this dream. But neither of them vanished when you blinked.

“Good. What’s your safe word, darling?”

Natasha’s grin was nothing short of wolfish. She squeezed both of your hips possessively, hauling you with a spy’s quickness onto the nearest counter. You nudged a white mug with a SHIELD logo on the front. It fell to the floor, shattered into a million different pieces.

None of that seemed to matter.

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff #Wanda Maximoff x y/n #Wanda Maximoff x you #Wandanat #Wandanat x reader #Wandanat x you #Wandanat x y/n

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dimicul · 7 months

Text

wine red

simon riley x chubby!female reader

just something quick i wrote after i saw this ghost headcanon on tt :,)

“Nothin’, just don’t like how my stomach sticks out.”

Simon pauses, his expression neutral. He glances towards you, drinking in the sight of your features drawing into a small frown as you studied your reflection, hands supporting the small pudge around your belly. He notes how bloody beautiful you look in red, but looks back to his own shoes, urging back a grunt of frustration.

You never complained about your belly.

He’s been around you long enough to be aware of your insecurities, watching you pad towards the bathroom mirror and prod at your pimples, grumbling at the bump on your nose bridge, sometimes sat beside him in bed with a sparkly face mask on - it was second nature to know you, and although it pissed him off to no end, he also understood insecurities were normal.

But this - this was different. You embraced your body, curves, blemishes and all, the crooks and crevices denting your flesh - you didn’t care for the sly looks or judgemental comments, you wore whatever the hell you wanted. And if anyone had a problem, Simon would have fixed it in a heartbeat. This wasn’t your insecurity, this wasn’t a flaw, it was a part of you you loved.

Simon couldn’t handle your expression.

A sigh, a clacking of heels - you had torn your gaze away from the mirror, face scrunched up into one of those mopey frowns Simon adored, and grabbed the leather coat from the rack. It’s almost suffocating, the silence, and he does realise he needs to say something, but talking wasn’t always his strong suit. So his jaw clicks into place, shoulders broad and unmoving, gloved hands resting on his thighs.

Suddenly Simon is sixteen again and sat in front of his headteacher.

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, whiskey irises boring into the back of your head before you turn with a half assed smile. Ha. He’s glad he can understand your little moods now, or else this night would’ve turned for the worse.

“Come.” The baritone of his voice draws you out of your darting thoughts. You sigh, stepping forward.

You’re not prepared for when his large hands latch onto your hips gently, pushing you forward so his head could rest on your stomach.

“Si-”

And again. You’re doing things you’ve never done before - you always let him rest on your stomach, it was never something you panicked about. A beat passes and your boyfriend lifts his head, penetrating eyes contrasting starkly against the red of your dress.

“What’s up with you?”

You purse your lips, mulling over his tone. “Nothing, just - this dress wasn’t always so… fitting.”

Simon hums roughly, and you inhale sharply at his hands stroking against your hip tenderly.

“Look’s fine to me.”

Neither of you say anything. Not a lot of words needed to be said around him, but then again, not a lot of men were like Simon. Your eyes soften, and you let your palm rest on the back of his neck, your touch making him hum again, the vibrations against your belly causing you to shudder.

“Ev’ry big boy needs his big girl.”

You laugh sweetly, and finally, he exhales quietly, welcoming the feel of your nails against his neck. He supposed it didn’t matter what the hell you thought about yourself.

Because he’d always want you.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x chubby reader #chubby!reader #bodyimage #body posititivity #ghost cod #simon riley #fluff #captain price #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #john price #call of duty #angst #ghost x you

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bbokicidal · 1 month

Text

"Are You Serious...?" - Angst! [Maknae Line SKZ]

Notes : These are all obviously fictional situations, the red flags are just based off of habits we know they have (like Chan's need to be needed, Changbin being blunt/honest.) This post isn't me saying I think they have these red flags, it's just a fun angsty prompt I wrote down. If you don't like it, scroll and don't read.

Warnings : Angst with no comfort, red flag behavior - explicit warning for Han's scenario; Sexual talk, TMI, he shares information about your sex life with others. Warning for Felix's scenario; weight discussion, judgement. Warning for Jeongin's scenario; Physical contact (shoving, nudging, etc.), signs of disgust

Hyung Line | Part 2 Here

Han - Oversharing

"You should've seen it. It was so wet." Jisung had fully turned his body in his dining chair to face Seungmin beside him. The younger of the two was listening to Jisung go on about something that had happened the night before; Something that was sexual and involved you.

And judging by the way Seungmin's chewing slowed gradually and his eyes flickered around the table to see if anyone else was listening, he was growing uncomfortable with hearing so much information about his friend and his partner.

"Jisung," You reach to place a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder, catching the way Seungmin seemed to eye the others in a silent plea for help out of the conversation. "That's enough, baby. I don't think he cares to hear about our sex life." You laugh, trying to brush it off.

But he keeps talking. "She made a mess everywhere, Min. It was like those videos where the girls --"

"Jisung!" You snap this time, pulling on his shoulder until he turns to face you. His eyes widen and he stares, completely unaware he'd done anything wrong.

"What..?" He peeps, watching as you scoff in frustration and lean down to grab your purse from the ground. He turns further to face you, a few of the others quieting down as they watch you stand and nearly knock over your wine glass.

You tremble in both agitation and humiliation, pulling your bag over your shoulder before turning to walk away. "Get a fucking cab home, I'm leaving."

Felix - Ordering food for you / Controlling your diet

"Thank you," You beam at the delivery man, gently shutting and locking your apartment door to make your way back to Felix on the sofa. It's only moments before the coffee table is filled with food - two waters, a few packets of dressing, and two... salads.

Your look of confusion doesn't escape Felix but he doesn't speak up on it, popping the lid off his salad container and reaching to empty a dressing packet over top of the greens. He stirs it around as he watches you reach for the other, pulling it closer and opening it carefully so nothing spilled. "I thought we said yesterday we were going to order Tteokboki and.. -- Are you sure you ordered from the right place?"

"Mm." Felix nods, mouth full as he watches you. You spare him a glance before sitting up a bit as he swallows and speaks again. "I'm on a diet, sweetheart. There's things I can and cannot eat right now."

"Okay," You nod slowly. "I understand that, and I understand it's for your job but - I didn't... agree to this..?" You murmur, hoping it doesn't come off as disrespectful. He'd been the one to place the order and pay for it, and you appreciated that - you really did. But he hadn't said anything about what he'd ordered earlier; Hadn't bothered to mention he was dieting or deciding to order from a different place.

He blinks once, then twice, as if processing that you were unhappy. "Felix, I'm -- I respect your diet. I really do." You lift your hands as if surrendering, then gesture to yourself by placing both hands on your chest. "But you could've told me you were ordering this and I could've just told you what I wanted. I don't need to diet."

Felix's chewing slows as he listens. He's staring, gaze unwavering, very intently listening. He nods, then hums as if in thought, before his eyes slowly wander down over your form sitting beside him. When he looks back up and doesn't care to agree with you or offer a soft apology, you feel the humiliation sticking in your gut.

Your lips part and you stare, unsure of what to say after he'd just silently judged you moments ago. You stand from your spot and slip into a pair of shoes at the door, grabbing your keys off of a hook.

He stares, posture straightening. "Where are you going?"

You look back, opening the door. "Down to the cafe. I'm getting myself a treat - because I didn't deserve whatever the fuck that just was." The door swing shut behind you, leaving Felix sitting alone in silence with his sad little salad.

Seungmin - Being Evasive / Not Responding

"Seungmin."

Your boyfriend blinks down at his phone for the umteenth time since you've started watching him in disbelief.

"Seungmin!"

"What-?!" He barks back this time, dropping his hands in his lap and staring over at you. His lips are parted and he's tonguing at the inside of his cheek, annoyance written all over his face. "What? Why are you yelling?"

"I asked you twice what we were doing later. Are the boys still coming over or are we all going out?"

In the ten seconds it took you to get that question out, he'd lifted his phone back up and blocked out every word that escaped your mouth. Whatever he was doing was obviously more important. He sits quiet, doesn't give you any answer, and stares down at his screen without caring to spare you a glance.

"Kim Seungmin." You stare, fully turning in your seat to make sure he knows you're giving him your full attention. "Would you please answer me?"

He stays silent where he sits, tapping away at the screen. And you know from previous arguments like this he's likely texting Jeongin about his frustrations with you. He only looks up when he hears a soft sniffle, met with the sight of you wiping your reddened face with your sleeve. "Why are you crying now?"

You stifle a sob and turn away, tucking your hair back to keep your face clean. "Because you never fucking answer me. You make me feel like I don't matter to you and all you care about is who you're texting on your phone."

"Jesus Christ," His eyes roll as he stands from his seat, tucking his phone into his back pocket and walking down the hall. "I don't like talking to you because you act like a baby. Grow up." The bedroom door shuts firm behind him and it leaves you sitting alone at the table, sniffling as you text Chan in attempts to get an answer on the plans later.

Jeongin - Physically pushing you away

It's no secret Jeongin doesn't like skinship unless it's under certain circumstances; Usually only when someone is under distress and needs to be comforted. But being his girlfriend, you thought you could slowly ease him into being more comfortable with you and physical intimacy.

Yet even a full year into the relationship, you can't get Jeongin to give you a simple hug before he leaves for a week to Japan - or a kiss on the cheek when you bid him farewell in early morning hours to go to work. You're lucky if he touches you at all actually.

And it gets worse when he begins to actually show irritation. Your soft attempts at affection were usually met with him laughing it off or just standing there as you hugged him or kissed his cheek. But recently, he'd begun to grow upset with your ongoing attempts.

He'd given you a gentle nudge the last few days to show he didn't want you near. First it was when you'd sat too close on the couch and he'd bumped his elbow into your side to get you to scoot away; Then when you'd side hugged him before he left for work and he'd nudged you off of him as he grabbed his jacket.

Today, he'd pushed you. You understood if he was frustrated and you understood he didn't like the physical contact, but all you'd done was brushed against him to reach into the cupboard. You hadn't mean to come close and hug him or kiss him, you were trying to just make dinner. But he'd been standing there, and the ongoing attempts at affection had boiled over into anger, and he'd shoved you.

His hand laid on your side and he pushed you back hard enough to make you stumble, shoulder bumping the fridge as you turn to look at him in surprise. "Jeongin--?"

"Would you back off?" He bites, eyes narrowed into a glare as he stares you down, standing in front of the stove. "I told you a million times, I don't like being touched so just drop it and quit trying to rub up against me every fucking chance you get. You're being clingy and I can't stand it."

"I wasn't trying to," You breathe, stumbling over your words as you register that he'd actually pushed you away from him.

"You try to every waking moment of every fucking day!" He snaps again. You aren't sure what had pushed him to grow so angry but he'd never yelled at you like this and you were 100% certain you never wanted him to again. So you step back and pivot, beelining for the bedroom to get some space between the two of you. Tears form and your thoughts jumble in your head, pondering on if it would be best to excuse yourself from the relationship now - or give it some time.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagine #felix x reader #han x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #in x reader #skz angst #stray kids angst #angst imagine #stray kids fanfic #skz x you

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navybrat817 · 2 months

Text

His Favorite Person

Pairing: Librarian!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You want to be more than friends with Ari.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, sweetness, friends to lovers (of sorts), Ari Levinson (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @lovebittenbyevans requested Librarian AU, friends to lovers with Ari, and to dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff) with prompt #7 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You stood on your tiptoes to reach a book on the top shelf. You huffed out a breath and tried to stretch a little bit more, but your fingers barely skimmed the spine. It would’ve been easier to ask for some help, but you didn’t want to bother Ari. You bothered him enough during his shifts.

You should’ve known he was only standing a few feet away, watching the display with a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. “Need some help?” He asked.

Managing not to fall into the shelf from the slight scare, you pointed to the book you tried and failed to grab. “If you wouldn’t mind?” You asked, dragging your eyes from his chest to his eyes. It was like looking into a storm, but warmth lingered in a way that told you not to fear any destruction left in its wake. “Please?”

Rugged was the word that came to mind whenever you glanced at him. A dark beard to match his long hair and jeans that showed off his large thighs, he even had the sleeves of his tight shirt rolled up so you could see his veins. The man could've easily passed for an adventurer instead of a librarian and you were certain he caught you staring at him more than once.

It wasn’t polite to stare, but was it fair for him to be so good looking?

“Don’t mind at all,” he said, plucking it from the shelf and placing it in your waiting hand. “You could’ve just asked me to grab it from the start, but you just had to be stubborn.”

“I wasn’t being stubborn,” you argued. He raised an eyebrow in response. “You just have a lot to do and I didn’t want to bother you,” you said, hugging the book to your chest.

“You were being stubborn, you’ve never once bothered me, and it’s part of my job to help.” Ari made a show of looking around, his silky hair flowing with the motion. “But I guess you’re right. I have so much to do since it’s so crowded today,” he joked.

It wasn’t a secret that the library was hit and miss in town. So many wanted their stories electronically and didn’t appreciate the feel of a book in their hands. Ari did what he could though since he took over as head librarian. Between overseeing the daily operations and managing his employees, he took his job seriously. You had no doubt he’d bring a much needed spark back to the place.

“Yeah, well, thanks for your help,” you said.

“Another romance novel, huh? Didn’t you just bring one back today?”

Your face grew warm before you nodded. Of course, he’d notice that. “You know me,” you mumbled, hugging the book tighter.

He took a step closer, searching your face with a gentle gaze. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with reading what you love.”

There was no judgement in his eyes and that made the corner of your lips lift in a smile. “I appreciate that.”

Being single, reading books like that allowed you to dive into various worlds and experience love. You could immerse yourself and imagine having a partner who would not only overcome obstacles with you, but would ensure that there would be a happily ever after. In a world often dark and negative, the escape gave you hope that one day you'd manage to find someone who could love you so deeply. You didn't want to think that romance only existed in books.

If only you were brave enough to take a chance and ask Ari out.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” you began, walking beside him to head to the front desk. He took up a good portion of the aisle with his beefy frame and you had to tell yourself again not to stare. “I spoke with my boss about adjusting my hours and they approved it! I can do Story Time on Tuesdays.”

“That’s great!” The smile on Ari’s face was worth moving your schedule around. “I really appreciate you doing that for me. I owe you one.”

You wished you would’ve teasingly suggested a date as a form of payment, but you shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my friend and that’s what friends do,” you said, cringing inwardly. It sounded lame to your ears.

“Yeah. Friends.” His smile faded slightly as he walked around the counter. “Just this book today, right?” He asked, slipping into his professional tone. Still pleasant to hear, but a touch of the usual warmth was gone. Like you were just like every other person who walked into the library.

“Yeah,” you replied, passing over your library card. “Did I say something wrong?” You added, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, his large hand placing your card on top of the book. He passed it over to you and you couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that moved through you when your fingers touched. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just…” Putting him on the spot wasn’t your intention and you didn’t want to point out his slight change in demeanor. “You do consider us friends, right?”

You didn't have a lot of close friends, but you considered Ari to be one of them. At the very least, he was friendly with you. It was possible that you read things wrong. Engrossing yourself in one too many books could’ve blurred your version of reality.

“Of course, I do. You’re my favorite person,” he replied. You leaned on the counter with a relieved and dopey smile at his statement. Were you really his favorite person? “But just because you’re my favorite person doesn’t mean I have to be yours.”

“But you are my favorite person,” you blurted out, covering your mouth when your voice echoed. “Sorry,” you added in a hushed whisper. It was a library. You needed to be somewhat quiet.

He chuckled and leaned on the counter, too, his eyes zeroed on you. “Oh, I am, am I? So, you don't actually come here to borrow romance novels. You’re just really looking for an excuse to see me.”

Your heart pounded, but you took a breath to keep your cool and hopefully not make a fool out of yourself. “I come here for the books and to see you, Ari,” you said carefully, the corner of your lip twitching in a smile. “But you obviously want to see me, too, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to do Story Time.”

“Well, yeah,” he smirked before softly adding, “Seeing you is the best part of my day.”

How did your knees not buckle? “It is?”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled, almost to himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did, but you can ask me another question,” you teased.

He stretched across the counter a bit more. “If I'm your favorite person and you're mine, why haven't we gone on a date?”

For a moment, it felt like the room sucked up all the oxygen. Breathing should've been natural to do, but you couldn't inhale as you stared at him. Glancing down at the book to get your bearings, it dared you to take a chance. A leap of faith. With a deep breath, you did.

“Because I've been waiting for you to ask me out and you haven't yet. And I've been too chicken to ask you myself,” you replied. You regretted the words the moment he stood up straight, his expression unreadable. He didn’t actually want that, did he? “I’m sorry. Forget I said that. Please.”

A second passed and his lips slightly parted, but he didn't speak. His silence said it all. Nodding with a heavy heart, you turned to walk away from the counter. You could lick your wounds later as you read another happily ever after.

“Shit. Wait.” Ari moved with impressive speed to block your path, his grip gentle on your arms to stop you. “Did you mean it? You really want to go on a date with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do, but I understand if-”

“Thank fuck,” he sighed, your eyes rounding at his words. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for days and I got worried there for a moment with the ‘friends’ comment that you didn't want anything beyond friendship.”

Your stomach did somersaults. Ari liked you. He wanted to ask you out. God, you almost ruined things before they started. “I’m sorry I worried you, but trust me. I'm very interested in you, Ari,” you smiled, forgetting you were in the library as you stepped closer. “And if you ask me, some of the best romances come from friendships.”

“They do.” He smiled back, his cerelain eyes lit up like yours. “And our story will be more romantic than any of those books you’ve been reading.”

Biting your lip, you watched as his gaze dropped to your mouth. What would it feel like if he bit your lip? “I don’t know. That’s a pretty tall order.”

He brought his mouth to your ear. “I’m a very determined man,” he whispered. No doubt he felt you tremble in his grasp. “Saturday night?”

“It’s a date.”

A date and the beginning of your love story.

We know this man would plan the perfect date, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson #librarian!ari levinson #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fic #ari levinson au #chris evans #chris evans x reader #x reader #navy's beach fun nonsense

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moonstruckme · 10 months

Note

i'm obsesseeeed with dr. rem and i have a request for him if you're up for it!! <33 maybe reader gets into an "accident" (nothing serious) while working and remus finds out when he sees her in the hospital? like she didn't have time to call him and let him know so he suddenly just sees her and freaks out for a bit before realizing she's okay? thank you so muchhhh 💗

I'm obsessed with him toooo it's bad ! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

cw: minor head injury

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your eyes water, but you do your best to keep them open as the girl in scrubs points her light in each one.

“Your pupils look alright,” she decides, clicking the light off and giving you an apologetic smile when you blink in relief. “Have you felt nauseous at any point since it’s happened? Dizzy?”

You shake your head no to both, wincing a bit as the clear bag of ice you’re holding to the back shifts slightly.

“That’s good.” She nods encouragingly. She seems young and somewhat green, probably one of those pesky residents Remus is always griping about. Though she’s trying to project the same seasoned calm as the other doctors and nurses moving about the A&E, there’s a quiet anxiety about her that you recognize. It’s the same one you carried during the first month at your job, the possibility of getting in some kind of trouble seeming to loom over you constantly. She’s pretty, you think, and she seems nice. Like she genuinely cares, a massive improvement over the woman at the front desk who’d given you a look so judgemental that it’d made you feel even more embarrassed for being here. “And you’re sure you didn’t lose consciousness at any point? Even for a second?”

“I don’t think so,” you say. “I mean, I would have noticed, right?”

She squints like she’s not quite sure what to do with that, and then you perk up as a familiar rhythm gets your attention. You wouldn’t have guessed you could do it outside of your shared flat, but you pick out the sound of Remus’ footfalls a second before he comes into view. He’s striding briskly across the room, skimming something on his clipboard, and he gives the swath of curtained rooms little more than a cursory glance as he passes—until his eyes flare, snagging on you.

You raise your hand in a sorry wave.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, doubling his pace to get to you. His attention moves to the bag of ice you’re holding to your head. “You’re hurt?”

“I bumped my head at work,” you explain with a shrug. The resident looks between you like she’s unsure if she should continue, clearly outranked by the other doctor in your little room. “It’s not bad, but my boss said I had to come here.”

Remus’ lips tug downward, taking the ice from you and tilting your head so he can see it. “You hit your head and you didn’t call me?”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him. “My boss just made me come in as a formality. For liability reasons, you know?”

Remus remains uncomforted. He murmurs a quiet direction to the resident so the poor girl steps back from you. You shoot her an apologetic look as your boyfriend takes your head in both hands, prodding at the tender spot on the back. You wince, and he makes a very unprofessional cooing sound, stroking his thumb next to the nonexistent wound.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Even his dubious tone is gentled for you, the pinch of his mouth more worried than vexed.

“It hurts,” you admit, “but only like any bruise would. It didn’t even break the skin, Rem, I’m totally fine.”

He looks at the resident. “Any symptoms of a concussion?”

“No,” the girl chirps nervously. You wonder that anyone could be nervous around Remus, but you suppose he is sort of like one of her bosses. “Pupils are normal, no dizziness or headaches, no reactions to light or noise, and no signs of confusion.”

He nods, still frowny. You think he could stand to show her some appreciation, but this may not be the time to bring it up. “Alright, you can go. I’ve got this one.”

“Thank you,” you say after her, and she flashes you a tiny smile before Remus eclipses your vision, taking your face in his hand.

“You were fully honest, right?” he asks you sternly. “Didn’t downplay anything?”

“I didn’t.” You summon your most placating tone, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrist. “I’m really fine.” You rub your thumb into his pulse point. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, everything was just moving so quickly. I wouldn’t have tried to keep it a secret or anything.”

Remus lets out a long exhale, leaning forward so that his nose rests on your forehead. “I know you wouldn’t,” he murmurs. “But do you have any idea how scary it is to see someone you love in A&E, where you work, when you thought they were just going about their day unharmed?”

Your heart contracts as the severity drains from his tone, replaced by a dull rawness. “I don’t.” You slide your touch up his arm to his bicep, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry. But I am unharmed, see? It’s all good.”

He grunts fondly, kissing your forehead as he straightens. “Who drove you here?”

“Marcus.” You’ll have to make your coworker some cookies or something as a thank-you gift, though you’re sure getting a half hour off work to chauffeur you here wasn’t an entirely unwelcome break.

“And where is he?”

“Back at work. He dropped me off.”

Remus brow puckers. “He left you here?”

“Well, it wasn’t like there was anything he could do,” you say, shrugging. You feel a bit sheepish, though you’re not sure why.

“Still.” His jaw ticks. “Okay, I get off in less than an hour. Do you think you can sit tight until then? I’ll have someone bring you some fresh ice.” He levels your sloshy bag of ice with a disapproving look you want nothing to do with. “And did you eat lunch before your shift?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you say. “But I don’t need you to drive me home, Rem. There’s a bus stop right outside of here.”

He scoffs. “I don’t care if you don’t have a concussion, I’m not letting you take the bus after you’ve just hit your head.” He squeezes your shoulder, thumb pressing into your collarbone. “I’ll have someone bring you a snack.”

“It’s just a bump,” you argue, but Remus ignores you.

“Try to leave, and I’ll be very cross with you,” he threatens as he walks away. “Cuddles are a privilege that can be revoked.”

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anni-writes · 3 months

Text

match my freak

Atsumu Miya x reader | smut

Warnings: smut. this got filthy, be warned. porn with a plot. dirty talk. some light bondage. bdsm. spanking. strong and explicit language. mdni! nsfw under the cut

word count: 5.5k sorry

@ anni says: I have nothing to say on my defense.

It was all fun and games, until the cards were out,

and you don't really know how things escalated so quickly

One moment, you were all just playing truth or dare — after being invited to a gathering with MSBY guys and some other people. Being friends with Bokuto from high school and moving to the same city as him after a job proposal made you eventually got closer

The next moment, you're exchanging kinks with Bokuto's hot friend, all because you picked “truth” one time after being tired of drinking shots and calling strangers as a dare

“A— wha— no way you're into this— you—”

Bokuto stares you with incredulous eyes, speachless , and you realize he didn't know this side of you.

The other hot friend, Sakusa you think, scoffs, diverting his eyes, trying to sound unamused, but failing to hide the soft red tint on his cheeks

“Disgusting—” he said

While the bright friend, Hinata if you recall, gasps in a similar way as Bokuto, completely red

Atsumu looks at you with predator eyes and a wicked smile

“I like yer friend, Bokkun…”

He stated with a hint of intensity in his voice, a timbre that traveled electric straight through your spine, pooling in your lower belly

You take the can of beer, gulping a big sip to try and release some of the tension on your body

“’m not drunk enough to keep this conversation going”

You murmur, avoiding Atsumu's gaze, but there is a heat rising to your cheeks that betrays your feigned disinterest.

The room fills with laughter, easing the electricity in the air, but you can't shake off Atsumu's intense stare.

Sakusa, surprisingly curious, mend his observation

“But how public are we talking about here? I understand the thrill aspect, but wouldn't that be… Unhygienic…?”

You narrow your eyes, feeling the uneasiness on Sakusa’s tone

“I mean… isn't sex supposed to be… filthy”

In unison, Sakusa frowned, Bokuto gasped, Hinata's eyes widened and Atsumu cracked a laugh,

by the thick of it, they had this conversation before

“Can't believe ya hid this girl from me all this time, Bokkuunn!”

Hinata, looking away, muttered “you're insane…” under his breath

Atsumu raised an eyebrow, his smirk not wavering

“Insane?” he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice “or you're just vanilla”

Sakusa rolled his eyes

“Not this again”

You chuckle at their bickering, your suspicions of them already having that conversation before proving right

"Oh? Again?" — you ask curious to know, but also diverting the attention from yourself

Bokuto, finally snapping out of his surprised state, let out a laugh, joining the conversation,

"Well, let's just say we've had quite a few discussions about the topic"

Atsumu grins wider, not missing a beat

"Mostly me and Bokkun having fun and Omi being the prude he is”

Sakusa rolls his eyes yet again, but he doesn't deny it

"Just because I have some level of self-respect and don't relish in unsanitary activities doesn't make me a prude" he huffed

Hinata, looking a bit more composed but still embarrassed, pipes in

"I mean, I understand the appeal, but I'm with Sakusa on this one...”

Atsumu, feigning hurt, clutched his chest dramatically

"You're all crushing my soul here" he exclaimed

Sakusa rolled his eyes once more

"The world will mourn the loss, I'm sure" he retorted sarcastically

Not missing a beat too, I barge in their bickering

"I feel you're being too judgemental here..." — I say, subtly siding with Atsumu on the matter

Atsumu grins, catching the subtle support

"See? She gets it," he says, winking at you

Sakusa narrows his eyes, not buying into your facade

"Or she's just as insane as you are" he retorts dryly

"See? Unfair judgement" — you say playfully, somehow enjoying to poke fun in Bokuto's uptight friend

Bokuto laughs aloud at your retort, clearly enjoying the banter, and Hinata couldn't help but crack a smile too

Atsumu leans back, a sly grin on his face as he speaks energically

"Finally, someone who isn't a stick in the mud" he says, glancing at Sakusa

Sakusa rolls his eyes once again, apparently used to the banter by now.

Atsumu turns to you now, a glint of interest in his eye, a spark of mischief

"So... what else do you like?...”

I raise my eyebrow, sighing when I feel the attention coming back to me

"That's a loaded question—”

Atsumu leans in, propping up his elbow on the table, his gaze fixated on you with a playful glint

"Well, it's not like we're asking you to reveal state secrets" he replies, a smirk still present on his handsome features

Sakusa, ever the skeptic, speaks up

"Yeah, but I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that" he says curtly

You start saying, trying to use Sakusa's words to deflect the attention,

"See? Nobody wanna know about—"

“You look like you're into pain… Pain or pleasure?… or both?” — Atsumu interrupts me, and I wince internally

You let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head, knowing Atsumu's words are like a trap. A trap you're more than willing to fall for

"They're the same…" You say smugly

Atsumu's smirk widens when he heard your reply, his eyes glinting with amusement and challenge

"Exactly my thoughts" he says, his voice a low growl

Sakusa, who'd been quiet, sighs

"Of course you two would get along in the insanity department" he mutters

Atsumu ignores Sakusa's remark, and leans a bit closer, a sly grin on his face

"You like to be in control... or you like to be controlled?...”

You narrow your eyes at how delicious that question sounded

"Both. And why not fight for control?"

Atsumu looks pleased, like he found someone who actually meets his level

"Now we're getting somewhere" he says with a smirk

Sakusa rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of curiosity in his gaze

Hinata, red as the cherry, glances away and Bokuto's eyes light up like he's just figured something out

Atsumu's smirk grows darker, his eyes fixed on yours as he continues

"You like it rough, don't you...?” he mutters, his voice lowering an octave

You raise one eyebrow at him, and your gaze slowly falls down on his hand as he holds his beer... strong big sharp setter hands that would look so goddamn delicious around your neck... or pinning your hands on your back while railing you from behind... or spanking your ass while you lay on his lap... or gripping your hair and yanking your head back...

But you don't comment on any of it, just smiling softly and looking at his eyes again, saying a quick

"I do"

Atsumu's eyes darken at your look, sensing the lust behind it

Sakusa, noticing the tension, clears his throat and mutters

"I'm sure we've established that already, no need to elaborate further—”

"Rough... you say...?" he blatantly ignores Sakusa, and repeats with a dangerous smirk, like he's imagining all the ways he could make good on his thought

Hinata seems to have turned tomato red, while even Bokuto looks slightly flushed

"Rough."

You repeat the word, emphasizing even more, not daring to break the eye contact

Atsumu's smirk grows even wider, a spark of challenge and excitement in his eyes

Bokuto mumbles something under his breath that sounds like "jesus christ"

Hinata just sits there, blushing furiously

Sakusa, being the voice of reason, tries to cut in

"You two are downright filthy" he mutters, rolling his eyes

You raise your eyebrow at Sakusa, poor boy meeting you today and probably already with a terrible image. But you say to him either way

"Are we that filthy or you're all just boring"

Sakusa, taken aback by your response, frowns as if offended

"Boring? I prefer the term... clean" he retorts

Hinata, trying to lighten the mood, lets out a nervous laugh

"Yeah...we're just... normal-"

Bokuto, suddenly joining the conversation again, chimes in

"No, no, no, speak for yourself! I'm definitely not that boring!”

You frown, a hint of confusion in your face, and a lot of playfulness, finding curious the word Sakusa used

"How can someone be... clean... while actively exchanging bodily fluids with someone?"

Hinata looks like he's about to combust from embarrassment, while Bokuto gapes

Atsumu, looking absolutely smug, let's out a bark of laugh

"That's what I've been sayin' all this time!" he exclaims, looking at you with approval

Sakusa, ever the skeptic, crosses his arms, a frown on his face

"And you seem so proud of it..." he mutters, his tone filled with subtle judgement

Atsumu grins, unfazed by Sakusa's disapproval

"Absolutely!" he exclaimed, leaning back on his chair with a air of confidence

Bokuto, still trying to wrap his head around the statement, chimes in

"Wait, are you saying... you like being... messy?”

You tilt your head

“It's sex! It's supposed to be messy!”

Sakusa's frown deepens, but there's a hint of a flush on his cheeks, while Atsumu laughs aloud

"Preach, baby!" he says loudly, clearly enjoying himself

Bokuto, still trying to process the conversation, mutters something he heard from Sakusa

"But...but cleanliness is important..."

Hinata agrees, nodding eagerly

Sakusa glares at you, as if trying to scold you mentally

You squint your eyes, trying to process his words

"Define cleanliness... in that context"

Bokuto hesitates, not quite sure how to explain and Hinata looks equally perplexed

Sakusa, being the most composed, replies with a frown

"Hygiene... not exchanging... excessive bodily fluids..." he mutters

Atsumu rolls his eyes playfully

"Boring." he adds, a hint of judgment in his tone

You gasp dramatically, smiling playful. Of course in your head you immediately think of all of the subversive disgusting things you might like… But you try to act composed to make your point

“Not exchanging bodily fluids in an act that consists mostly of bodily fluids exchange?!?!”

Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa look slightly taken aback by your reaction, while Atsumu laughs aloud at your performance, clearly enjoying the whole situation

"Exactly! It's like trying to enjoy a soup without slurping it, it's— it's just wrong!" he exclaims dramatically, with the same tone as you

You crack a laugh at his analogy, loving how he picked your cue and mirrored your tone with the same feigning drama. You back him up again

"Exactly! It's like trying to eat a sandwich with a fork"

Atsumu grins, enjoying the banter

"Or trying to enjoy a pizza without getting your hands greasy!" he adds, playing along

Bokuto laughs at the metaphor, while Hinata looks like he's trying his best to appear unfazed. Sakusa rolls his eyes again but can't hide the small smile tugging on the corners of his lips

Bokuto jumps back into the conversation, his innocent eyes now filled with curiosity

"So... just to clarify... you like it messy, right?" he asks, trying to grasp the conversation

Hinata looks flushed and uncomfortable, unsure of where this conversation is going. Atsumu grins at the question, looking at you for your response

"Ok, disregarding of what I like or dislike... the thing itself IS messy" You say, trying to divert a little, but also keeping the discussion going, exposing your true opinion

Bokuto seems to contemplate your response, but still looks somewhat baffled. Hinata is silently blushing, looking like he's trying hard to act unfazed, though failing

Sakusa, again being the voice of reason, points out

"But... there are ways to minimize the mess...”

You narrow your eyes, unable to process his point of view

"But why would you even minimize the byproduct of the pleasure?"

"Well...to maintain some level of dignity and propriety in the act...not everything has to be so... wild...” — Sakusa retorts, seeming slightly flustered by your bluntness

You gasp again, unable to follow his train of though, once your own point of view is the opposite

"Noooo! You're ruining it! It's supposed to be wild and animalistic"

Sakusa rolls his eyes, clearly not understanding your way of thinking

Atsumu, loving every second of this interaction, laughs aloud

"Exactly! That's why I like her! Can we keep her?" he exclaims, grinning at you approvingly

Hinata, still pink, mutters

“I...I think I'm gonna need another drink..."

Sakusa scoffs, but his annoyance is clearly fading away

Atsumu grins, leaning in with a playful glint in his eyes

"Can we keep you, though?" he asks, a hint of genuine interest behind his jest

"Keep me? I feel like a stray cat now”

"Yeah, a stray cat sounds about right... wild, a bit naughty, and craving attention...”

"You're gonna keep me and what? Put me on a leash?”

Atsumu grins wider, the image clearly appealing to him

"Well, depends on how obedient you are... a leash might be necessary" he retorts sarcastically

"Might be, huh? And what else? A collar with your name on it?"

Atsumu's eyes light up with excitement at the imagery

Bokuto, laughing, comments

"Yeah, like a brand of ownership"

Hinata is looking slightly flustered by the conversation

Sakusa, ever the skeptical one, mutters

"You're both unhinged...”

Atsumu grins at Sakusa's comment, clearly unbothentered by his disapproval

Bokuto, still amused, chimes in

"Come on, Sakusa, don't knock it till you try it"

Hinata, red as a tomato, tries to change the subject

"Guys, shouldn't we talk about something else?”

You all ended up changing the subject much to Hinata's innocent mind, but Atsumu switches places to sit beside you, placing a hand on your thigh under the table the whole time.

The conversation continues more lightly, but Atsumu occasionally sneaks glances your way, his hand remaining on your thigh, occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze, subtle, possessive, promising…

Sakusa, sitting across from you, notices Atsumu's gesture, but pretends to ignore it

---

After a while chatting and drinking some more, you claim you need to go home, having to finish some work stuff tomorrow morning.

Atsumu put up a little fight, but offers you a ride home in the end, and you agree.

Once you've excused yourself, bidding everyone goodbye, and agreed to Atsumu's offer of a ride home, he pulls you towards his room, making sure no one notices your departure.

You gasp silently, whispering with a feigning outrage

"What are y-- Miya!"

Once you're inside, he closes the door behind him, pressing you against the wall, his body trapping you between the hard surface and himself

Atsumu grins at your gasp, clearly enjoying having you trapped against the wall. He leans in close, his lips hovering just above your ear as he whispers back

"It's Atsumu, say it again" he commands, his voice low and sultry, with an undertone of possessiveness

You narrow your eyes with his demand, his voice traveling straight down your body in an electric shock, making you comply

"Atsumu..."

You say, whispering softly his name. Atsumu grins, his eyes darkening with desire at the way his name rolls off your tongue

He leans even closer, his body pressing against yours, his breath ghosting over your skin as he talks into your ear

"Again. Louder" he whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear

You let out a dirty chuckle, opening up a mischievous smile

"If your want me to scream your name you're gonna have to work for it, Miya"

Atsumu's eyes glint with excitement at your challenge, his competitive nature sparking. He grins back at you, equally cunning

"Oh, is that a challenge, kitty?" he asks, his hands resting on your hips, his grip tightening He leans in further, his lips now so close to your ear that they're practically touching it

"Trust me, I'm more than willing to put in the work" he whispers, his tone sultry and commanding

His hands slide up your sides, smoothly taking your arms and pinning against the door, intertwining your fingers

You raise your eyebrows, your eyes fluttering with both his voice and his breath in your ear, his tone entering your brain and delving inside your sinapses, making you almost melt

But yet, you smile equally smug, arching your back a little, the restrained arms making your head dizzy, and you just lift one of your thigh to his waist, hooking around him to bring him closer, pressing his hips against yours

"God, you're intense..."

You whisper, realizing you're about to fuck a guy you met today and probably you would totally do insane shit voluntarily if he asked you

He held your brain captive already, and you have no idea when that happened

Atsumu's eyes widen a fraction at your unexpected move, his body responding immediately to the contact of your thigh wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush against you, your pelvis meeting his hips in a provocative embrace

He lets out a low, guttural whine, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly as he tries to regain his composure

"And you're a goddamn tease," he retorts through gritted teeth, his breath hot and ragged against your skin

His brain turned to mush at your every move

Something happened outside, on that dirty little drunk chat between friends, that put both of you under each other's spell way before any physical touch happens

Atsumu's body is now flush against yours, his hips pressing into your spread thighs in a possessive manner, the outline of his hard cock making wonders to your brain, as your skirt rides up violently, the heat between you palpable

He takes a moment to regain control of himself, his breath is coming in uneven gasps, his eyes fixated on you with a mixture of desire and determination

"You really know how to push my buttons, don't you?" he says, his voice gruff and deep, his hand release your hands and slides down trying quickly unbutton your shirt

“Shut up and fuck me” — you say as breathless as he is right now, and you swear you could feel his dick twitch in his pants between your legs

You arch your back further against the door aiming to feel the delicious friction of his clothed erection against, letting out a muffled moan

Now with free hands, you take advantage to slide them down and starts unzipping his pants

Atsumu hisses at your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he focuses on the feeling of your hand working on his zipper

He fumbles with the buttons of your shirt, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation as he exposes more of your skin with each one

Atsumu takes a moment to take in the sight of your exposed skin, his eyes hungrily roaming over your body as he lets out a ragged breath

He advanced like a starved man, his hand cupping your breast over the black lacy bra, squeezing it like his hand was made for the curves of your body, making you envy every volleyball he ever touched

At the same time, he lean in, biting the side of your neck on the conjuction of your shoulder, your neck and your jaw, making you wince and moan languidly, as you whisper his name again

“Atsumu… Fuck…”

Your hands are already slipping inside the open zipper of his pants, enveloping his hard warm cock over the thin fabric of his boxers, sliding down on his shaft while he growl on your neck, drooling and bucking his hip against your hand

In a quick motion, his hands travel down the back of your knee, lifting you and making you hook your legs around his waist while he presses you against the door, making your skirt pool in your waist, exposing the sight of your black lacy panties

He advanced further, one arm holding your waist, the other hand threading and gripping your hair in the back of your head, angling your head to push his tongue mercilessly inside your mouth

And you take it like it's the most sweet treat you've ever tasted, sucking his wet tongue while feeling the faint taste of whisky almost vanishing. You pushing your tongue back in, and hear his groans inside your mouth, lapping on it and swallowing his pretty sounds

The way you match his energy serves only to obliterate all of his walls and restraints, and before he even realize himself, his hand slid down from your hair to wrap around your throat, squeezing — gently at first — to part the kiss and look you in the eye, an evil wolfish grin, but honey dripping eyes

“Such a fucking whore”

“If I'm a whore, what are you—”

With your retort, he groaned and squeezed further your throat without thinking twice, making you lose your breath for a sweet instant and let out a hitched moan

Your reaction made him grin, and in the back of his mind, a random thought of having you like this everyday made his cock twitch again

“Squeeze my neck like that one more time and I'll meet you at the altar”

You said, interrupting his train of thought, and even in your own heads you were thinking similar

In another swift motion, he carried you to his bed, throwing you softly in the soft mattress before standing up to grab the hem of his shirt, taking it off, giving you a spectacle

“Fuck…” You mumble under your breath, watching the carved details of his ripped muscles while he fumble with his pants

“Like what you see, kitty?”

He asks cockily, his voice deep and low

“Fucking godlike—”

He grins, groaning, his head rolling back with the praise hitting all the right spots in his brain, and, for a moment, your mouth waters, looking at the view of his soft neck from below

“Flattery will get you everywhere you want, babygirl” he purrs so deliciously, standing almost naked, the outline of his strained cock inside his boxers flirting with you

On instinct, you get up, kneeling on the bed, pulling him by the neck, biting his bottom lip and kissing him again, slowly stepping back making room for him, as he kneels on the bed

When you feel he's fully on the bed, you place your hands flat on his chest, pushing him to lay down, and he complies easily

“Then let me go for a ride, baby” you whisper

He growls as he lays on his back, with a smile that make your heart skip a beat as you hop on top of him, straddling his waist, and his hand instantly hook on your skirt to zip and finish taking it off, while you take off the open shirt

“I'll wife you up in no time if you keep that up”

You chuckle as you sink down on his lap, feeling his clothed cock deliciously settle in contact with your wet clothed pussy, probably staining his boxers as you shamelessly grind against him, his fingers gripping your thigh with bruising touch and his mouth letting out the most delicious moans, thrusting his hips up

He reaches down, unable to hold the impulse to feel your insides, and lower the hem of his boxers, exposing his cock and thrusting up against you

You moan, and his hands travels upwards to cup your breasts again, pulling your bra down to expose it all for him, supple flesh escaping his fingers as you moan again

He props his body upwards to capture them, one breast in his mouth as he sucks the sensitive hard nipple like a hungry man, while the other stays in his strong hand like he owns it, playing and squeezing

He ends his ministrations with his mouth tracing a path up, marking in purple a line from your breasts to your collarbone as you moan like a slut

You push him down again with one hand on his chest, as the other hand goes to his cock, feeling the smooth warm skin, pushing your panties to the side, lining him to your soaking wet cunt, feeling your own hand getting coated in your slick

Looking him in the eye, you start sinking your weight down as he deliciously stretches you, and he tries, he swear he tries to keep the eye contact, but the overwhelming embrace of your creamy walls were driving him wild, and his eyes rolls back instantly

“F… Fuck, baby… th-that’s some unfair pussy y’ have—”

You chuckle dirtily, feeling flattered in a twisted way, as your head leans back and your own body begs for you to move. Pressing your hands on his stomach to support your weight, you start riding, slowly at first, but picking a faster pace as you yearn for more

You moan in sync, and the view he have from you, bouncing on his cock, your boobs slipping off your bra, your blissful face with your head thrown backwards, your neck and collarbone with his marks… He almost cum on spot

He violently fists the sheets, arching his back, his knuckles white with the strength. You're riding him for minutes and he's already almost there.

But he can't, he refuses, he won't give in this early.

In a quick and aggressive move, he uses the mattress to stabilize himself, streightening his upper body, abruptly gripping your waist to make you stop moving

“Yer pussy is fucking pulsing, are you that desperate for me, baby?” he whisper close to your mouth, You moan softly, feeling him throb inside you

“Why stop? Can't handle it, love?”

You provoke, smirking, knowing exactly why he stopped, and he bite, giving one hard slap on the side of your ass, making you wince and moan

“I'm gonna handle you alright, babe…” he growls, while locking both of your arms behind your back in a tight grip, holding with only one hand, a grip I know will leave bruises

And just like that, I'm on his mercy even on top of him

He bend his knees, his free arm reaching back, positioning himself better to fully thrust up, while still restraining my arms

That's the hottest shit you've ever seen, you think to yourself

Sitting knees bent, cock buried inside you, he growls thrusting up with primal force, hitting places you may not even know existed so far

Your face contorts in pleasure, eyes rolling back, as the knot in your belly gets impossibly stronger by the second, and you're certain there's drool in the corner of your mouth

You moan loudly like a cat in heat, his name eventually escaping your lips

“Ah— ‘tsumuu… F— fuck”

“Where's that… ah— filthy sassy mouth of yours, huh?”

His tone only serves to make you clench stronger around him, fueling both his moans and his words

“Fuck, your pussy— ‘s trying to kill me”

“I'm— ah— fuckk don'tstop” You say loudly between whines

And just like that, he grips both the sheets and your arms even more strongly, gaining some leverage to fuck you harder, deeper.

That makes impossible to hold back, and without warning, the huge wave of pleasure drown you, making you pulse around his cock, cumming violently in a shock

He hisses, watching you come undone on top of him, your blissful face contorted in pleasure as he thrust a little more to prolong your pleasure, and he groans with your cunt constricting around him

“So fucking hot and for what—”

He say as you collapse your head on his shoulder, the muscles of your leg twitching

“On fours for me, babygirl. I'm not done with ya”

“I'd ask my money back if you were” you say back, still panting, still nuzzling in his neck, and he snorts

“Your mouth will be your demise—”

“…and I haven't even sucked your cock yet”

“’m gonna fucking tie you up, you minx”

You bite your lip, parting from his neck to leave his lap, eyeing him with a playful look on your face, ready for another orgasm

“Tie me up and use me”

He swear he almost came just hearing you say this with that playful face of yours, it could make men go to war. He had no doubt now that he had to do it.

“Turn around” he ordered while reaching a tie in his bedstand, and you comply eagerly.

He ties your arm on your back while peppering soft open mouthed kisses on your shoulder, and suddenly you're sure you're a goner

In contrast, when he's done with the knot, he pushes you so violently against the mattress, hitting a hard slap on your ass, and you moan like a whore, making him grin dirtily

“God, you really like this…” he says while pumping his cock a couple of times with one hand, grabbing your ass with the other

“And you're having a field day…” you say, your voice weak and strained

He starts slowly pushing himself inside you again, gripping your ass bruisingly with one hand, saying hoarsely

“Can you blame me?”

Just like that, he grip the arms tied on your back, pushing you back on his dick, making you arch and almost scream

“H—Holy shh— ‘tsumu”

And he was, indeed, having a field day, pushing his red angry cock inside you roughly, mercilessly, and out again, and in, and out— your brain turning to dust with his strength

The noise of skin slapping against each other, you're high pitched moans, his strong slaps on your ass and his moans and groans fill the room

After several minutes of his insatiable pace, he feels you're moaning louder, clenching tighter, and he leans down, his hand sliding from your ass to thread on your hair and tilt your head

“You close, baby? Give me one— one more… milk me dry, baby— ah… I can't cum without feel you one more time—”

Despite the strength and the roughness he's railing you, the delicious plead for your cum makes your head dizzy, and your body involuntarily answers him

You moan, your second orgasm hitting forcefully, his name leaving your mouth like a prayer as he straighten his body to lean his head back and just feel the blissfully experience of you coming again, groaning and closing his eyes like he's reaching nirvana

“Fuck—”

He say, feeling your walls constricting around his extra sensitive cock, and he hammers you again and again, seeking his own release

And it doesn't take long, with a guttural groan, he spills inside you as your legs shake desesperately, and you exchange seconds of synchronized bliss

Waves of pleasure still travel Atsumu's body when he reaches down, pulling the knot of the tie to release your arm

He collapses beside you on the bed, panting, breath hitching, sweating and groaning

“You… Where have you been all my life…”

You chuckle, turning to face him and dragging your body close to his, nuzzling in his chest while your muscles still shake

He receives openly, sliding his hand down your arm, taking your wrist to see his marks

“Did I hurt you too much?”

He asks softly, sounding almost apologetic, but you give him no time to feel guilty, smiling to whisper unabashedly

“No. You should try harder next time…”

He groans again, feeling his competitive fire lightening up all over again inside him, as he rolls on top of you

“You're terrible for my health, kitty” he purrs, kissing down your jaw, reaching your neck, and you can't help but let out a chuckled moan

“You can't be for real— you're getting hard again?”

He grins flicking his tongue to taste the skin on your neck while his knee open your thighs, with a dexterity of one who knows exactly what he's doing, and this time, as you feel his hardening cock poking your inner thigh, it's your time to say

“Where have you been all my life?”

---

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Hinata, Sakusa and Bokuto look at each other with widened eyes

“Bokuto, it's your fault” Sakusa say as another slap and another moan come in sync from Atsumu's room

“H-How is this even— I had no idea!” Bokuto tries to defend himself, and wince as he hears Atsumu loud growl

Hinata is speechless, red as a tomato, groaning softly and closing his eyes with his palms, trying to forget whatever he listened just now

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