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#can’t stand their creepy asses
yeonzzzn · 3 months
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pocket full of sunshine ; choi soobin
oh shit, we’re soulmates?! part one / five
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pairing: soobin x afab!reader word count: 12.6k
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synopsis: the last thing soobin expected was a stranger to sit beside him on the bus full of empty seats and clinging to his arm. due to a toxic ex, you beg soobin to come on vacation with you as your step in boyfriend for the week.
genre: fake relationship trope, soulmate!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, smut.
warnings: swearing, soobin and reader share a bed, alcohol, making out in public, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI!
𖤓 soobin(1) | yeonjun(2) | beomgyu(3) | taehyun(4) | huening kai(5) 𖤓
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Fake relationship trope? Are the fates fucking with him or could he simply just not read correctly?
Eighteen-year-old Soobin stared up at the acolyte standing before him, a massive smile on their face as they outstretched their arms, “The fates have spoken, my child!” 
Utter bullshit. 
Soobin has always been skeptical about this special moment all the adults growing up would talk about and be excited. 
“It’s one of the best moments of your life!” “There is something so great knowing how you’d meet your soulmate!” “It’s one of the gods greatest gifts!” 
And what god, exactly, decided to drop these “gifts” to everyone? 
But he still couldn’t help but feel even the tiniest bit of excitement to see what this fated trope of his would be. And obviously, to his disappointment, it was utter bullshit. Fake relationship? Yeah right. What a fucking joke. 
Or so he thought. 
Now at the age of twenty-three, fate really has a way of continuing to fuck everything over. Because here you were, plopped next to him on this shady ass bus going Northbound into the city and hugging up on his arm. 
Soobin tried to release from your tight grip, pulling the strings of his earphones to release the music blasting in his eardrums, and glared down at you, “Excuse me?” 
“Please, just play along.” You quickly said, pleading with him with your eyes. And that’s when Soobin noticed how badly you were shaking. 
Your eyes quickly whipped to the front of the bus, Soobin’s eyes following yours, a scoff released from his mouth following up with, “Ahh, I see.” 
You squeeze his arm tighter, “Please,” you beg again, “I’ll explain later.” 
Now what kind of guy would he be if he turned down someone so desperate?
So he forced his arm free and locked his hand with yours, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand as he squeezed his fingers against yours, eyeing the man who now stood in front of the two of you. 
“Guess you weren’t lying,” the dark hair male said, “That your new boyfriend was waiting on the bus for you.”’
And thank the gods it worked out. 
In all honesty, you were afraid this little lie of yours wasn’t going to play out well. With your luck, you’d have a bus filled with old creepy guys and would have to make up another excuse. But thankfully your stars aligned and saw the perfect dark brown-haired male slumped in the seat and staring off into complete space. And thank whatever god was listening that he decided to play along. 
“Of course, I’d be here waiting for her,” Soobin said with a sly grin, “Can’t let her take the bus into the city alone, what kind of gentleman does that?” Soobin then reaches across the seat with his free hand and cups your cheeks between his thumb and index finger, “Can’t let my sweet bunny go off all alone.” 
Now you were the one glaring up at him as his stupid ass smug smirk grew ever wider. Did you make the right choice with this one? There were plenty of other cute guys with empty seats beside them you could have chosen. 
You dug your grave and guess you gotta lay in it. 
He finally released your face and stared back up at your ex, his eyes now narrowing, “And who are you? Sorry for my lack of manners, I just don’t recall who you are, exactly.” 
The male let out a scoff, eyes darting to the floor, “Must really be over me, YN, if you aren’t even speaking about me.” 
Ahhh, so this is what the situation is. 
You roll your eyes and lean a bit forward, clenching the brown-haired male's hand tighter, “I’ve been telling you that since you started stalking me about the bus stations, Sungchan!” 
Oh, so this guy is an asshole.
“You’re stalking my girlfriend?!” Soobin snapped, standing up quickly in the seat, you tried hard to pull him back down. You had to admit, he was playing this part perfectly. 
Sungchan held his hands up in defense, “I wasn’t stalking her! I just happened to be walking past and noticed her. If I knew she had a boyfriend I wouldn’t have even made the stop.” 
It took everything in Soobin to not roll his eyes and throw a punch. He actually hated this guy already. Like who the fuck give that as an excuse when it’s so clear he was stalking YN?
“Can the young man standing in the aisle please sit down for your safety.” the bus driver announced over the speakers. 
You glanced out the window, seeing the bus was in full motion. You didn’t even realize it started moving. 
Sungchan tucked his tongue into his cheek and nodded, “I don’t want to cause any trouble,” his eyes then whipped over to Soobin, “I am assuming you’re coming to the beach with us next week, ya?” 
At this he fell silent, not knowing how to answer his question. How could he just say—
“Of course he is,” You shrugged, “There’s still that open spot from Chaewon backing out.” 
Before Sungchan could open his mouth to speak, the bus driver once again was snapping at him to take a seat. So without another word, he moved to the back of the bus. 
You relaxed into the seat, quickly pulling your hand out of the stranger’s, “Thank you for that,” you whispered, watching as he sat back down into the seat, his eyes studying you hard. 
“I don’t know what kind of load of bullshit this is, but you’re awfully brave. I could have been a serial killer. Like Ghost Face type shit.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at the man, turning away to face forward, “I’ll explain everything to you at whatever stop you’re getting off at,” Soobin went to protest, but you stopped him, “I need to make my lie look believable. Sungchan is a very smart man, he probably already assumes what it was I was doing. So just let me get off at the next stop with you,” you looked down at the dusty and gross floor of the bus, “He isn’t going to get off this bus until we do, I can promise you that.”
Soobin wanted to snap at how this wasn’t his problem and a massive case of baggage that you need to clean out yourself. But when he looks at you…all he can see and feel is how badly your body was shaking earlier. So he sat back in the seat and stared out the window. 
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Thirty minutes of silence passed before Soobin flagged the driver to stop at the next upcoming bus stop. You quickly stood from the seat and let him move in front of you, leading the way. As he walked passed, he hooked his pinky finger with yours, pulling you along behind him. 
You both could feel Sunchan’s glare as you stepped off the bus, not once turning around as the doors of the bus closed, and the sounds of it drifted off down the street. 
Once the bus was no longer in view, Soobin dropped your pinky and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, “Want to explain yourself now, YN?” 
Something about the way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t decide if it was good or bad. You settled with a maybe both. 
You sighed and looked up at him, seeing his cocoa eyes staring back, “That guy,” you started, breaking your gaze from him, “Is my toxic ex-boyfriend.”
“Well, yeah,” Soobin shrugged, “It was kind of obvious, wasn’t it?” 
You nodded, “He and I broke up months ago, caught him cheating on me with one of our friends.” 
Soobin hung his head low, closing his eyes, “I’m assuming that friend was…Chaewon? Wasn’t it?” 
You hated how this male was able to piece together everything so quickly. You nod again, “As you can probably tell, my group of friends planned a vacation with each other to the beach last year. But found out he was cheating on me and welp, Chae dipped out after I  discovered she was the other woman,” you cross your arms, letting a shrug form, “I wanted to back out too, but my best friend is still going and he begged me to go still.” 
Soobin felt bad for you. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how terrible this all was affecting you. How terrible you must feel. 
“I’m a hundred percent sure he was looking for me,” you twisted a piece of string hanging out of your tee shirt, “There’s no way he didn’t know I just got off work and was heading back home. I live near my place of work, I didn’t even need to get on the bus. But he was begging for me back and I panicked.” 
Soobin believed you. Your shaking body still feeling fresh against his body, “I’m sorry this is happening to you, YN.” 
You glanced back into his eyes, seeing the true apologetic gaze in them. You shrug again, “Thank you for playing along, I don’t know what I am going to do abou—“ 
An idea hit you just then. Soobin could see the gears turning in that brain of yours. 
“No,” he laughed, waving you off before you could even speak, “Absolutely not!” 
You walked up to him, being inches away from his face, standing right up on your tiptoes, “Please! It’s just for a week and you’ll never have to see me again!” 
Soobin took a step back, needing to create that distance. His heart was racing, hands were shaking. You were literally asking him to be your fake boyfriend for a week. His trope rang in the back of his head, there’s no fucking way. 
“You’re awfully brave asking a complete stranger you just met to be your fake boyfriend,” Soobin scrunched his nose, trying to play this off, “I’m not doing it.” 
You were desperate, and you didn’t care how badly you looked it. This was the only way you could think to get Sungchan off your ass and finally get the hint that you DON’T want him anymore. So you pleaded with the man in front of you, “I know we just met, but I’ll repay you for this,” you stretched your hand out, him raising a brow at it, “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and if you decide to go, give me a call. We don’t leave for another four days.” 
Soobin looked away into the distance at the setting sun. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. 
Before he could stop himself, his hand was reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling his phone out, and placing it into your hands, “I’m not going to make any promises that you’d even hear from me.” 
And that was enough for you, quickly creating your contact in his phone, “All I could ask for is you consider it.” He took his phone back from you, and you waved him goodbye, “Thanks again… uhhh??” 
“Soobin,” he said, studying you as you walked backward away from him, “I’m Soobin.” 
You smiled at him. A smile that shot right to his heart. He didn’t move from his spot until you disappeared from his sight.
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“You what?!” your best friend snapped, brows creasing inward as he looked at you with pure disbelief. 
All you could do was look at him, blankly blinking, “Hoon—“
“Let me get this straight,” Sunghoon said, leaning against the countertop in your shared kitchen, his face being dropped into his palms as his elbows turned red from being leaned on, “You ran into Sungchan, jumped onto a random bus and sat next to a complete stranger and begged him to be your fake boyfriend until you followed him to his stop and then begged him to continue the web of lies you dragged him into and then invited him to the vacation? YN that’s fucking stupid!” 
Stupid was one word for it. You sat back in the chair, staring down at the marble of the countertop, “I was desperate. I didn’t even know what I was doing until the words were leaving my mouth.” 
Sunghoon looked up at you and let out a sigh, “Did he even agree to go?” 
You glanced over at your phone, still waiting for a call or shit—even a text from Soobin on whether he was going, or not. Sunghoon followed your gaze down to your cellular device and let out another sigh in response to his question. 
It’s been two days since you’ve met Soobin. You couldn’t help the anxious feeling settling in your gut at the possibility of having to expose your lies once it’s time to meet at the beach house within the following days. 
“YN, you need to be careful with your—“ 
“Please don’t bring up my given bullshit trope.” 
You had to be honest, you didn’t believe in fate or tropes or whatever type of bullshit the gods “graced” the world with. Your trope, you’ve tried experimenting with multiple times and it’s gotten you nowhere. It doesn’t exist. 
Sunghoon tilted his head, “I was just saying,” he leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes locked on you, “You’ll believe in it once it happens for you.” 
Your best friend had found his soulmate. She’s a cute girl, very witchy and into the occult things. Sunghoon calls her a hex girl and she calls him a bloodsucker. You never understood their dynamic, but they are cute, nevertheless. Their red string of fate tied them perfectly together. She also adores you and never once had a problem that her boyfriend’s roommate was a female and his best friend. Even with him having a soulmate, you still weren’t convinced. Mostly just for yourself. 
“Speaking of,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest, “Why can’t __ come along?” 
Sunghoon shrugged, “She has work. And since she took off when she and I went out to that cabin, she wasn’t able to take more time off.” 
It made sense. You were lucky your boss even let you have the entire week off for the beach. It took a lot of convincing. 
You stared at your phone again. 
“Well,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat, “I’m going to finish watching this Sci-Fi movie about this guy in space who gets his memory wiped.” 
You raised a brow at him, “That’s an interesting-sounding movie.” 
He nodded, “I’ve seen it multiple times before, can’t get enough of it!” he slapped his hand to the counter with excitement, “The movie is in a whole time loop! I won’t spoil too much.” He smiled wide, his natural fangs on display. 
You looked at him with endearment. You truly loved Sunghoon and his geeky ways. 
He gave you a knowing look, “Want to join me? We can restart it from the beginning,” You looked back at your phone, debating if you needed the distraction, “I’ll brush your hair.” 
You jumped up from the seat and tossed your phone into your pocket, “Say less!” 
Sunghoon followed behind you into the living room.
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“Fucker!! I said COVER ME!” Beomgyu screamed through the headset, nearly making Soobin fling them off his head. 
Kai’s laugh filled the headset right after, “Bro, I was covering you, I can’t help you decided to rush in and half the team was in there.” 
Yeonjun sighed then, “Unlike you idiots, I’m playing it safe and staying on the high ground.” 
“Sure,” Soobin rolled his eyes as he rushed into a building and unloaded his shotgun into the “half of team” that took out Beomgyu and Kai, taking down all of them, “If you want to call camping on a rooftop with a sniper playing safe, go ahead.” 
Yeonjun scoffs, “I haven’t died—FUCK!” 
Soobin smirked and the others laughed at the kill feed, seeing Yeonjun’s gamertag displayed at the top of it. 
“Haven’t died yet? Right. Safe? Right.” Taehyun teased him, making more giggles fill the earpieces. 
“Fuck you guys,” Yeonjun snapped, the sounds of his fingers smashing his keys in the hope of a faster respawn, “Gyu has no room to talk, homie is in a gaming unit and still has died more than the four of us combined.” 
“I’m not playing for real,” Beomgyu countered, “This is all just fun and games, baby.” 
“Then why bitch about Huening not covering you?” Taehyun countered back, “Sweats don’t yell like that when they are just having fun and games, baby.” 
Beomgyu scoffed over the mic at his friends teasing, “Old habits die hard—KAI WHAT THE FUCK!” 
“They sure die hard alright,” Yeonjun laughed. 
“Anyway!” Beomgyu cleared his throat, “Shouldn’t we actually be discussing Soobin’s situation?” 
“Oh, yeah!” Kai exclaimed, “Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” 
Soobin shrugged as if his best friends could see, “I really haven’t decided.” The truth was, he hadn’t even really given it a lot of thought. Work has been killing him lately and even when he has thought about it, it was only for a short couple minutes then he shoved it back to the back of his brain. This wasn’t his problem to fix, you got yourself into that situation.
“I totally think you should go for it,” Kai said, rushing into another building and getting shot down immediately, “Damnit! But, who knows? Maybe this will be your soullllmmmaaaattteeee.” Kai teased. 
Soobin couldn’t help but scoff, “My trope? It’s bullshit. Always has been.” 
Soobin had plenty of fair share of fake relationships to help make exes jealous on both his and the other female’s side. Random hookups for the night to play along after a drunken night out partying. Never came out to anything. This was no different. 
“Plus we don’t even know her trope,” Yeonjun added, “This very much could just be a normal “I got myself in a sticky situation, please help dig myself out” situation.” 
None of Soobin’s friends believed in soulmates or their tropes. Every single one of them thought it was bullshit. Like the acolytes picked a trope out of a hat and called it a day. 
“Well, all the soulmate bullshit aside,” Taehyun sighed, “It is a free trip. You wouldn’t have to pay for anything. Just literally show up and enjoy a free vacation.” 
Soobin raised his brows and cocked his head to the side, “That is true. Unless YN slaps me with the bill at the end of the week.” 
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Beomgyu said, using an emote as the round ended, “She told you she would repay you. I doubt she’d make Soobin pay up his half for a trip that wasn’t even his doing in the first place.” 
Soobin sighed, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his middle and index fingers. This was a hard situation to deal with. Not only would he be missing out on a whole week's worth of work—which means less money in his bank account, he would be having to call out at the last minute AND be dealing with people he doesn’t even know all because you had to lie. 
But then again—it would be a free vacation. Nothing would be coming out of Soobin’s pocket. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the loading screen as the game went into another round, his trope rushing through his mind. He couldn’t help but feel this was way too convenient. He bit at the corner of his lip, really putting thought into this. 
“Don’t think too hard over there buddy,” Kai teased, “Just say YOLO and go. It won’t kill you to go hit up the beach for a week. Plus, she said you wouldn’t have to see her or her friends after that, it would be a win.” 
Soobin nodded. He did truly feel sorry for you. Having to deal with Sungchan and even being put in that situation to begin with. Just thinking of Sungchan and what he did to you made Soobin’s blood boil. A smirk curled at his lips. 
“You know what, Kai is right,” Soobin sat up straight, reaching for his phone, “You only live once.” 
His friends had a mixture of words and cheers. Soobin pulled his headset down around his neck, found your number, and pressed the call button. He leaned back in his chair, biting at the skin on his cheek, waiting for you to answer.
After four rings, you picked up, “Hello?” 
Hearing your voice put a smile on his face, and he couldn’t explain why, “YN, It’s Soobin.” 
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You weren’t sure what you were expecting when he offered to be the one to drive the two of you to the beach. But it sure the hell wasn’t what was currently in front of you. 
Soobin parked as close as he could to your apartment. He stood outside, leaning up against the front end of his pretty fancy black SUV. His hands are in the pocket of his jean shorts and his head facing off into the distance with sunglasses resting against his nose. 
Your heart skipped a beat. Why was this person you barely know making your heart flutter like this? He’s just standing here. 
He finally turned his head, looking up at you and the corners of his lips curling upward, “You going to come down or do I have to drive to the beach without you?” 
You returned his smile, “Chill out, I’m coming down!” You rushed down the stairs to see he now moved from his car to the foot of the stairs, hands reaching for your duffle bag. Normally you would have snapped your hand back to keep your stuff with you, but you let him take the bag. He took off to the side, another arm stretched out as you stepped down to the ground, his hand placed gently to your lower back as he gently moved you in front of him to walk towards his car. 
“We have a three-hour drive, so there is still time to back out of this,” Soobin said, now removing his hand from your back and placing it on the passenger side door, “If you don’t want to do this, I am giving you that last chance to take your bag from me and go back into your apartment.” 
You understood what he was doing. He was giving you a way out of having to deal with Sungchan altogether. The weight of that option was tempting, but you shook your head in a no, “Everything will be fine,” you didn’t know if you said that more for him or yourself, “Plus, Sunghoon already left for the beach. I’d be here alone and honestly, I need a vacation.” 
Soobin nodded, opening the door for you, “Well, let’s hit the road then, princess.” 
“Such a gentleman!” you teased as you climbed into the seat. 
Soobin gave you a smirk and leaned into the car, “My mother raised me right, what can I say?” 
After tossing your bag into the backseat alongside his, you both hit the road. You did have to admit, you were nervous. What if something goes wrong? Or everyone finds out about this lie you’ve conjured up? Sunghoon was the only one who knew the truth. But you were almost positive that Sungchan knew–or suspected–the truth. 
Soobin could tell you were nervous. He could see it in your body language and the hint of your voice that was slower than what it was when you and him sat on the phone to discuss plans for this entire trip. He’s only known you for a short few days, but he felt he already knew parts of you that no one else did. And he couldn’t place why that was. So he reached across to the radio, turning up the music in the hope it would ease your nerves. And oh boy did it. You were able to sink back into the seat and focus on the music. 
The three-hour drive wasn’t actually terrible. You and Soobin made only two stops, one for a bathroom break and snacks and the other for a quick lunch. Soobin also drove the entire time and wouldn’t give up the driver's seat no matter how many times you offered to drive. “I’m going on this trip for free. It’s the least I could do to make up for that part.” But did he forget you’re the one who owes him for even agreeing to this trip? 
It wasn’t too much longer before the beach came into view. You couldn’t help but roll the window down and lean your head out, taking in the sights and smells of the ocean and the sand. The sounds of the waves crashing against the sand and birds chirping as they flew by. You don’t get to come out to the beach often, so when you do, you take in everything. 
Soobin took his eyes off the road for a few short seconds to look at you then out to the ocean, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 
You nodded, “I can’t remember the last time I got to see this view.” 
Soobin rolled down his window, letting the full sounds and smells fill the entire car. He leaned his elbow onto the edge of the window and propped his head into his palm, “The last time I was here probably had to be about two years ago? My friends and I all came for a day trip.” 
You sat back in the seat and glanced over at him, loving the small smile he had on his face, “You’re a group of five right?” You thought back to the conversation you and Soobin had a few days ago about the trip, him fully admitting his friends helped push him into even coming along, “Pretty close?” 
Soobin’s smile lifted more, “Close isn’t even the right word to describe what we all are. Brothers would be a more fitting term.” 
Hearing Soobin talk about his friends reminded you of how you felt about Sunghoon. Close wasn’t even close to being the right word. Soobin was right about that. 
Thinking about friends made the nervousness settle back into the pit of your stomach, “How are we going to pull this off?” 
Soobin’s smile faded, “You’re still worried about that?” You nodded. How could you not be? “It’s just for the week, YN. Then you can make up some story on how you got rid of me and everything will go back to normal.” 
All you could do was nod again, leaning your head back onto the headrest and staring off into the distance of the open sea. The truth was, you felt comfortable with Soobin so far, what if you want to keep him around as a friend by the end of this trip? Would he even be okay with that?
You could only hope. 
Soon enough the beach house came into view and the cars of your friends piled up around the parking station around the house. You pointed out Sunghoon’s car and Soobin parked beside it. 
Well, here goes nothing. 
You and Soobin climbed out of the car at the same time, him already reaching for both your and his bags, carrying them over his shoulder. 
Sunghoon was the first to pile out of the beach house, his arms stretched out wide as he ran towards you, “You guys finally made it!” 
Your best friend's hug gripped you tight as if he hadn't hugged you in years, “Hoon, I saw you this morning!” 
He finally pulled away, resting his hands on your shoulders, “I miss you all the time! Even when you’re right beside me!” You rolled your eyes at his separation anxiety he has towards you but still smiled anyway. You took notice his eyes were no longer on you, but locked onto Soobin who stood behind you, “That’s Soobin?” You nodded, a new fear prickling up your shine that maybe Sunghoon doesn’t approve of this even more, “He wasn’t what I was expecting.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, because what exactly was he expecting?
Sunghoon finally moved around you, reaching his hand out to Soobin, “Good to put a face to the name I’ve been hearing about lately.” 
Soobin took his hand, assuming this guy was your roommate and best friend. Soobin smiled, “Same to you, Sunghoon.” 
Sunghoon smirked and leaned closer to Soobin, becoming only a few inches away from his face, “I know about this whole situation,” Sunghoon’s voice dropped deeper and his eyes became serious. Soobin just stared back at him, locking his jaw tight, “While I didn’t agree with her even doing this, I am glad you decided to play along. But if you hurt her..” 
Soobin forced a smirk of his own, “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m just here to piss off Sungchan.” 
Sunghoon widens his eyes, “Ah! So you also hate the dirtbag?” Sunghoon took steps away from him and placed his hands on his shoulders, “Glad we are on the same page.” 
You sighed, fanning yourself with your hands, “Can we go inside now? This summer heat is killing me!” 
Sunghoon turned around and smiled at you, “Of course! But umm…I need to let you know something.” 
You stared at your best friend, “Wha—“ 
The beach house door busted open and the voices of your friends had you turning around and smiling wide. Jake, Jay, Yunjin, Sakura, and Shotaro all shuffled out the door, immediately rushing to you. 
“Where is this new boyfriend you never told us about?!?” they all asked in unison and then their eyes caught Soobin as he stood behind you, resting his hand on your lower back and introducing himself. 
Your friends surrounded the two of you, complimenting how cute he was and how cute the two of you looked together. Even though this was all a lie and an act, you couldn’t stop the slight pink filling your cheeks. 
“Oh!” Yunjin said, pulling her red locks behind her ears, “Sungchan…he…” 
Before she could finish speaking, you saw what she was going to tell you, and saw what Sunghoon was going to tell you. 
Sungchan stepped out of the house with Chaewon at his side. 
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You weren’t sure if pissed off would even be the correct emotion to describe how you were feeling right now staring at your ex-boyfriend and your ex-best friend. 
“They showed up together,” Yunjin whispered, “We didn’t even know she was still coming. Apparently, he paid for her at the last minute.” 
The last you heard, Chae wasn’t even speaking to any of us anymore, that included Sungchan, after the truth got out. 
You didn’t speak to either of them as everyone pushed back into the beach house. It was a massive house, super cute and very beachy. Enough rooms to hold at least two people per room. And that’s how you got stuck sharing a bed with Soobin. 
Chaewon piled in with Yunjin and Sakura, while Jake and Sunghoon shared a room, and Sungchan with Shotaro. 
Plus Soobin and you were a “couple”, it really only made sense you’d have to share a room with him. 
The first day was spent heading into town for food for the house and any beach toys or items that any of you all might need. The males took to the kitchen to cook the food that night, while you females sat outside on the sand watching as the sun set until dinner was ready. So far, everyone was getting along, even you and Chae to an extent, even if you two weren’t speaking. 
Once night fell, you stood at the edge of the bed while Soobin climbed in and made himself comfortable, “I can always sleep on the couch,” he said with such calm, “If it would make you feel more comfortable.” 
You quickly shook your head, “No! They would suspect something if you did, it’s just…” You haven’t shared a bed with another male since Sungchan. 
Soobin didn’t need to hear you say it to understand what you were getting at. The scars Sungchan left from his betrayal ran deep within you. 
Soobin smirked, deciding to try and make light, “I don’t bite, YN.” 
You scoffed at him with a roll of your eyes, “Why did I invite you again?” 
Soobin patted your side of the bed with his hand and scooted closer to the edge of his, giving you more space and without hesitation, you climbed in, “I’m here because you need me.” 
You tried hard to not scoff again but failed. You wanted to fight him, but settled on, “Goodnight, fake boyfriend.” 
Soobin was glad you were facing away from him so you couldn’t have seen the look on his face when hearing you say that. It pulled at him in ways he fought hard to push down. It made his trope push to the front parts of his brain in flashing bright letters. He flipped over to his stomach and squished his face into the pillow, using all his strength to push down the thoughts of his trope. 
Tropes were stupid and didn’t exist. It was all fake. All fake. 
He repeated those words over and over again until sleep finally took him. 
The first couple of days went on like normal. On the second day of this vacation a storm hit, so everyone was forced to stay inside the house. Sunghoon brought his Nintendo Switch, so everyone took turns playing Smash Bros and Mario Kart. Soobin dominated everyone in both games. Come to find out, Soobin is very much a gamer and one of his friends is even in a unit. It was very interesting to you and made you want to learn even more about Soobin. 
On day three, the sun and summer heat were back. You and your friends didn’t hesitate to jump into the water to cool off. 
“Jake mentioned a bonfire tonight!” Sakura said, dipping herself down to your chin into the water, “I say we do it! We can go buy stuff for s’mores!” 
“Alcohol too please!” Yunjin groaned, “I need it after how long my last few weeks have been!” 
You agreed. What was a vacation without it? Plus it would calm your nerves about this whole Sungchan situation anyway. 
You looked up to the sand, seeing how Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay seemed to have adopted Soobin into their little circle, tossing around a baseball, all four of them smiling. Your eyes drifted off closer to the house, Shotaro, Sungchan, and Chae stood around the picnic table and grill as Taro grilled the meat for lunch. Your eyes lingered on how close Sungchan and Chae were sitting together, Sungchan turning his head to look out into the water, making eye contact with you. 
He shifted a bit closer to Chae and on instinct, you whipped your head in the other direction, “Soobin!” Sungchan shifted his gaze to Soobin as well. 
Soobin looked away from the other three, giving you a smile that melted your heart, “What is it, my princess?!” he shouted back. You said nothing, just gave him a big smile and waved for him to join you in the water. 
Soobin wasn’t stupid. He saw how close Sungchan was to Chaewon. Soobin could smell the bullshit from miles away. He knew Sungchan only invited Chaewon—or well, begged her—back on this trip all because of him. Sungchan trusted Shotaro with this information thinking he wasn’t going to slip it up to everyone else, especially Soobin. 
“I tried to talk him out of it,” Taro had said, “He kept saying it was just to make sure the friend group was made whole again, but I know that isn’t the case. He was so hung up on getting YN back, but after meeting you…I think he did it to try and stick it where it hurts. Or make her jealous. He won’t accept she’s over him.” 
Pitiful. 
Soobin tossed the ball over to Jake, “I’m going to jump in the water with YN, you all want to come too?” Soobin had to admit, the one good thing that came out of this trip was gaining these guys' friendship. 
Jay was practically already tearing his tank top off, “Hell yeah! Let's cool off, this sun is brutal!” 
Soobin followed the others down the beach, gripping the ends of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head. 
Your heart nearly stopped. Your eyes drag along down his body. Trailing back up over his abs, chest, shoulders, and arms. Craving the metal image in detail of every curve of his biceps. He was beautiful. So beautiful. 
Soobin was now in the water and standing directly in front of you, a smirk on his face as he leaned close to your face, being inches apart, “Close your mouth, you’re drooling.” he whispered. 
You didn’t realize your mouth was open and immediately closed it shut. Soobin stood up straight and sank down into the water, his hands finding yours as he was chest-deep, gently pulling at your hands to lower yourself too. 
It honestly took a lot for Soobin to keep his eyes locked on your face. Your body was gorgeous, all of you were. He couldn’t and wouldn’t deny that. Mostly with the way the purple bikini complimented your skin and the curves of your body. He did take a few glances down to your breasts and shot his eyes right back up to your face. He wasn’t ashamed of looking, you were just gawking at him a few minutes ago. 
Once you were at eye level with Soobin, his hands left your hands and found their place at your waist, pulling your body to him, “I hope this is okay,” he whispered, “Just trying to play my part.” 
It was natural at how you wrapped your arms around his neck, how you seated yourself on his lap and wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your chest to his. It felt so natural that it scared you. Even with the cool ocean water warping around your bodies, you still felt way too hot and prayed that if your face was red, everyone would assume it was from the hot summer sun. 
“No, it’s all okay,” you whispered back, pulling him closer to you, leaving your bodies completely flushed against one another, “We both have to play this part.” 
“Hey!” Jake chuckled, “What you lovebirds whispering about over there!” 
Soobin chuckled back, tilting his head back to look at Jake, “I’m telling her all the positions I’m going to put her through tonight!” He teased, earning Jake to scrunch his nose. 
“Man, we don’t want to know that!” Jake held up his index fingers into an X, “Keep that to yourselves!” 
Soobin just smirked, wrapping his arms around your frame, “Hey man, you asked!” 
You couldn’t help but smile at them, at all of them, really. You were truly happy that Soobin was fitting in with your friends and they all seemed to love him. Sunghoon—even with his nasty side eye at the two of you—was warming up to Soobin little by little the last few days. You listened to them all banter back and forth and you couldn’t help but wish that this all could last past this week. 
Soobin then touched his cheek to yours, squishing your faces together, “Dude, you’re just jealous that I have a pretty girlfriend!” 
Your friends collectively all “ooooo” at Jake from Soobin’s diss, causing Jake to smirk and start splashing water at everyone. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” Sungchan said suddenly, standing at the edge of where the water meets the sand. His arms were crossed and eyes locked onto Soobin, “Taro finished lunch, let’s all eat.” 
After lunch, everyone headed back into the house to take turns showering and then headed into town for alcohol and items for s’mores. 
Once the sun started to settle over the horizon, it was time for the bonfire. 
The owners who rented out the house to you and your friends for the week really knew what the people wanted. The firepit was beautiful. A beautiful smooth white stone was built around the pit and perfectly carved benches sat around it. Sunghoon and Yunjin were the ones most excited about the s’mores, being the ones to poke the soft squishy balls of sweetness onto the metal rods and hold them over the fire, and passing them around to everyone once they were burnt perfectly and smooshed between chocolate and graham crackers. 
Jay sat off to Soobin’s right on another bench with his acoustic guitar in his arms, playing a pretty tune that matched the soft crashes of the waves and the breeze of the wind. You swayed back and forth slightly, not wanting to spill any of your beer. 
“Having a good time?” Soobin asked, smiling down at you as he sipped his beer, “You look like you are.” 
You nodded, leaning further a bit to your right to nudge your shoulder against his, “I am,” you lift the can to your lips, taking a sip, “You?” 
Soobin glanced over to the firepit and took another sip, “I am,” his eyes shot up to Sungchan, catching him staring back, “But Sungchan has been eyeing me down since before lunch. It’s making it hard for me to really enjoy myself right now.” 
Soobin honestly was enjoying his time here so far. It was a vacation after all and having to play the part of your fake boyfriend wasn’t difficult either. The only hard thing was the glare Soobin always felt from Sungchan. He understood why, he had something the other wanted. It wasn’t Soobin’s fault the male fucked everything up. Nor was it his fault that you were completely over Sungchan to begin with. Soobin truly believed if you still had feelings for Sungchan, you wouldn’t have even come on this trip. 
You carefully and quickly passed your eyes over Sungchan, catching how hard he stared at Soobin. Even when he lifted the beer can to sip and drank. His eyes never left Soobin. You also noticed how close he was sitting to Chae. Chae just stared off into the distance, hands clasped together. You couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t want to be there. 
You finished off your beer and tossed it into the plastic bag at your feet, “I’m sorry he’s being that way towards you,” and you really truly meant it. Soobin didn’t deserve it, “I wish I could make him stop.” 
Soobin also finished off his beer and tossed the can with yours, keeping his eyes locked on Sungchan. You finally decided to let Sungchan know that you saw him staring. Glaring at him with your jaw locked and eyes narrowed. It didn’t take long for him to notice your stares and for him to scoot closer to Chae, dropping his hand to her thigh. 
You rolled your eyes and faced Soobin, “He really thinks doing that will do anything but piss me off.” 
Soobin chuckled at your words because it’s true, the man truly thought getting closer to Chaewon was going to change your attitude towards him. Sungchan pulled a smirk at Soobin, thinking he won. 
Oh, but isn’t that further from the truth. 
“Want to piss him off back?” Soobin asked, turning to face you. 
You raised a brow, “And how exactly, do you plan to piss him off?” 
Soobin said nothing as he moved in, connecting his lips to yours. Your surprise must have been way too obvious because Soobin was now tracing his lips from yours and down your jaw and to your ear, whispering, “Play along.”
You knew what he was doing. Knew what it would cause with Sungchan. Knew all of it and yet once his lips found yours, you kissed him back something fierce. Both your eyes flutter closed and embrace this moment. 
You expected just a few kisses and then Soobin pulling away, but the longer your lips lingered, the more you prayed he wouldn’t move away. Soobin did, in fact, was only planning to plant a few kisses and then pull away and go back to being normal. But…
He couldn’t stop. 
His brows furrowed as he leaned into you more. His hand reached up and cupped your neck, his thumb rubbing softly against your jawline. 
What was he doing? Why couldn’t he stop kissing you? Why was his free hand now reaching for yours and his fingers intertwined with yours? Squeezing your hand hard. 
He slowly pushed his tongue past his lips, licking your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You parted your lips without question, letting his tongue slide in and explore your cavern. The soft groan that escaped his mouth sent chills down your body. If he didn’t have his hand placed on your neck keeping you pressed to him, you would have long fallen over. 
Kissing you felt…natural. It felt like his lips were always meant to kiss yours. That…he was meant to be here with you. Soobin had come to the realization that you both were making out in front of everyone and he did not give a single fuck. Sungchan no longer mattered. Pissing him off no longer mattered. The only thing that did was your lips against his. Your hand in his. You. Only you. 
His heart pulled to you. It was chanting your name over and over and over. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. He felt the little red string of fate tie itself to you. His trope rang in the back of his mind. 
“Hey!” Someone finally snapped, “Get a room, love birds!” To both your and Soobin’s surprise, it was Sunghoon who said it. 
Soobin smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. His heart was racing and he was fucking terrified to open his eyes and look at you. Scared at what he might find. 
But he opened them anyway as he pulled his head away from yours. First, he stared at your swollen kissed lips, then slowly looked up to your eyes. One look and it was all it took for everything in the world to make sense. One look in your eyes and he knew. 
It was you. It was always going to be you.
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You thought going to bed that night would have been awkward. Why wouldn’t it? You and Soobin made out in front of all your friends in a play to piss off Sungchan, it should have been awkward to go to bed that night. Except it wasn’t. You crawled into bed next to Soobin like it was a routine. He rolled onto his side facing away from you and fell asleep quickly as you did the same.
You oddly felt at peace. You barely knew him and only knew a handful of things about him that you’ve learned on this trip so far, but you couldn’t help that pull to him. And as you drifted off to sleep you repeated the thought over and over on how easy all this was with him. How from the moment you first laid eyes on him in that bus you felt that pull. You weren’t sure what to make of this, mostly when everything would be coming to an end once this week was over. 
When you woke up Soobin was already out of bed. After getting up, brushing your teeth, and throwing on your swimsuit and beach clothes, you trailed into the living room, everyone sat around somewhere in the kitchen or living eating breakfast. 
“About time you got up!” Sunghoon teased, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth, “It’s almost eleven am!” 
You raised a brow at your best friend, “Yet you guys are still eating breakfast? When it’s literally lunchtime?” 
“Hey,” Jake groaned, whipping his head up from his plate and leaning against Sunghoon, “Never too late or early for a breakfast meal!” You couldn’t argue with that, “Besides,” Jake continued, “Soobin mentioned for dinner to head out into town and try one of the restaurants, so we decided on a later breakfast.” 
“Makes sense,” you mumbled, looking around the room, “Speaking of, where is he?” 
“Your boy toy already went down to the water,” Sungchan murmured, poking his fork at his eggs, “Missed him by ten minutes.” 
You narrowed your eyes down at him, “Boy toy?” you scoffed, whipping your head away with a roll of your eyes, “Funny shit to say coming from the likes of you!” 
Not another second was wasted on him as you quickly made your way to the front door and opened it. 
“YN!” he called for you, but you didn’t turn back around as you slammed the door behind you. 
Sungchan stood from the table, just causing both Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon to stand on their feet from the couch. Shotaro was even at Sungchan’s side, placing his hands on his shoulders. 
“Let go, Taro!” Sungchan snapped. 
“Nah, keep him there,” Jake gave him a narrowed look, “You need to cut this shit out, Chan.” 
Sungchan opened his mouth to fight, but Chaewon stopped it, “Chan, that is enough! Seriously!” All eyes went to her, “You need to accept the fact that YN has moved on and she is happy! I’ve never seen her this happy before…” Chaewon looked down at her plate, “I don’t know what you were hoping for with this trip, but you really need to know your place.” Without another word, Chae picked up her plate and rushed into her bedroom. 
You kicked off your sandals at the edge of the steps to the house and stepped down onto the warm sand. Hovering your hand over your eyes to help see down the way better. Damn, the sun is so bright. 
You found Soobin standing in the water facing towards the infinite ocean. His shoes and tee shirt were discarded at the edge of the beach right before where the water touched the sand. The waves crashed against his waist and the breeze blew his brown hair to the side. The sun illuminates his perfect honey skin, outlining the muscles of his back. Even from his back, he was a sight to see. So beautiful. 
Soobin woke up earlier than everyone today and decided to be the one to make breakfast today. He had to admit, he was using it as a distraction. A way to get him out of the same bed with you. You looked so peaceful while you slept and it took everything in Soobin to not pull you toward him and wrap his arms around you. So he forced himself out of bed instead and made everyone breakfast. It wasn’t really early, the night before obviously made everyone sleep in a bit longer, but Soobin pushed the idea of trying out a restaurant later that night, ate his breakfast, and quickly left the house. 
He needed to get out of that house and put more distance away from you. Not because he wanted to be away from you, but because he couldn’t think straight around you. Not after last night. The feeling of your lips lingered on his. The touch of your skin in the palm of his hand as he held you close to him. The way your fingers fit perfectly together with his. 
It all rang in his head. Along with his damned trope. Soulmates didn’t exist. It was just a ploy to keep the population in control. To give the people something to believe in. It wasn’t real. 
Yet Soobin knew he felt that red string of fate tied his heart to yours. He might not know what your trope is, and frankly, he’s terrified to find out. What if your tropes don’t match? Or what if your trope is whatever Soobin isn’t? He’s never once in his life ever thought about these questions. He’s spent those years after receiving his trope not believing in a damn thing about it. But you changed everything. One look in your eyes after that kiss and he was on his knees. 
Soobin guessed the whole reason he needed to be officially alone right now was to sort out his thoughts and decide whether he wanted to accept his fate. Regardless of what he decided to do, you now had him wrapped around your finger and he was stupid if he’d let you go once this trip was over. 
He heard shuffles of sand and already knew it was you standing at the edge of the water behind him. After his heart was tied to you, he swore he could hear your heart beating. He knows the sound of your heart. 
You knew he knew you were there, you couldn’t explain how, but you just knew. You took one more step, letting the ocean take up to your ankles. You kept your eyes locked to his back, your heart racing. 
Soobin chuckled, “It’s just me, YN, no need to be nervous.” 
You opened your mouth to say something, but stopped the moment Soobin turned around slightly to look at you. The way the sun was shining down on him…the look of endearment and the soft smile he was giving you. Your eyes widened, the red string fully tying your heart to his. 
“Sunshine!” the acolyte cheered, her hands clasping together and smiling wide down at you, “Your trope is sunshine! How wonderful!” Wonderful? What the fuck kind of trope is sunshine? What the fuck does that even mean? 
You had hope for your trope. You really did. You spent all that time as a child counting down the days until your eighteenth birthday and marched right to the church to receive yours. But the moment your trope was in your grasp, everything failed you. You stopped believing. Yes, you tried experimenting with your trope, but it failed you every time. 
You tried meeting people with sunshine personalities, tried going to bright sunny places, and each time, it failed. You gave up and believed soulmates didn’t exist. Or even if they did, you didn’t have one. 
You held that statement as true until just now, staring into Soobin’s eyes. 
The world finally all made sense to you. Sunshine. Soobin was sunshine. He’s your sunshine. Your trope wasn’t about the sun or the personality of someone. It was both. It was Soobin. The embodiment of sunshine with the sun shining down brightly on him. 
You could hear his heart beating in your ears, its steady pace mixed with a hint of nervousness. And he told you he had no reason to be nervous? 
He turned fully toward you, walking up and closing the gap between the two of you. He lifted his hands from the cool water and rested them on your biceps, the corners of his lips curling up more. 
“Soobin,” you whispered, “I—“ 
The echoes of your friends' laughter filled the summer air, each of them pushing out of the house and in their swimwear. Jake held fishing poles in his hands, “Soobin!” he yelled, “Come spend time with the bros!” 
Sunghoon held up a tacklebox of fishing items, “Yeah! Jay is bringing his expensive alcohol too!” 
Jay was now holding up his bottles of whiskey, “I’m being forced to bring them, but I’ll share nevertheless.” 
Soobin’s smile grew more and it only made your heart flutter. This was his real smile, not the fake one he’s been acting out with the last couple of days. This was his true show of happiness. 
Soobin glanced away from your friends and saw the look of confusion on your face. Soobin knew that look without even having to ask you what was wrong. He cupped your face and placed his lips to your forehead, “We can talk later, okay?” 
You nodded, quickly wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him close, resting your head on his chest, “Have fun stealing my friends from me.”
Soobin chuckled again, and leaned into your hug, holding you against him, “Too bad, they are my friends now,” You went to protest, but he was pulling away and splashing you with water, “I’ll see you later, okay?” 
You said nothing as you watched him run out of the water, stopping to grab his shirt and shoes and jogging up to Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon. Shotaro and Sungchan slowly followed behind them. 
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The rest of the day became busier than you were hoping for. Once the boys were back from fishing and everyone showered off the sand and salt water, it was time to hit up the restaurant. 
It was within walking distance from the house, so Taro was really big on saving up everyone’s gas and suggested just walking. No one was against it. 
But that meant moving in a pack. Everyone surrounded you and Soobin and it left no chances to talk. Even after dinner, Yunjin and Sakura wanted to stop for ice cream, and again, no one rejected it. 
Soobin was kind enough to buy your ice cream for you and even shared some of his. It only made the need for you to talk to him run so much deeper. This couldn’t just be the behavior of acting like your fake boyfriend…was it?
Little did you know Soobin was also dying to talk to you as well. He tried to find any opportunity to pull you to the side and talk but the odds just weren’t in his favor. 
But he was nervous and the closer the beach house came back into view the more his heart pounded. It only got worse once he was alone with you in the shared bedroom. 
You looked exhausted. Soobin definitely was. It was a busy and exhausting day. Not just because of your friends, but the endless thoughts that circulated both your minds. It was hard to tell if talking about whatever this was, was a good idea at the moment. 
But you also knew it couldn’t wait. 
Soobin sat down on the bed, facing himself toward you. You tried to fight back a yawn as you climbed into the bed. He tilted his head, “Do you want to talk? We could always talk in the morning, YN.” 
Hearing those words honestly made you feel better. It meant not having to address everything right here and now but also gave proof that Soobin still wanted to have that conversation. You stopped fighting the yawn and nodded, pulling the covers back and laying down on your side, facing away from him. 
The bed shifted as Soobin turned the lamp off, the room now being lit by the moonlight that peeked through the curtains of the windows. The bed shifted more and you could hear Soobin’s heart, “Can…” he sighs, “Can I hold you?” 
“Yes,” you replied quickly. Already scooting yourself to the middle of the bed, your back meeting Soobin’s chest. He pushed his arm underneath the pillow and wrapped it around your chest and hand linking to your shoulder while the other hung over your waist, his hand resting on your tummy. 
Holding you was everything he could have hoped it would be. Your body is the perfect fit against his. You shifted a little in hopes of getting closer, only to rub your ass against his crotch. His fingers at your shoulder gripped your shirt while the other squeezed your tummy, “YN,” he said in a soft warning tone, “Please don’t move.” 
You didn’t mean to grind against him, you just wanted to be more comfortable and closer to him. But now with the growing hardness against your ass and the sound of his heart racing in your ears, your own pool of desire is raised. 
Soobin was now squeezing your frame tightly, using all his strength to not start grinding his cock against you. To keep himself under control. But it was so damn hard when he could hear how your heart was fluttering. Could feel how your body was now shaking. He squeezed you tighter, his arm squeezing your breasts and a soft gasp let your lips. It was enough to send a chill down his spine and for his hips to buck without his permission. 
You softly giggle, “And you told me not to move.” Your teasing just then flipped a switch with him. 
Soobin was smirking and tucking his face into your neck, pressing his now hard cock against your ass, “Maybe if you’d stop wiggling, I wouldn’t either,” he whispered to your skin. The brush of his lips as he talked had goosebumps raised on your skin. 
You rocked your hips, grinding on his clothed cock, “Stop rubbing against me, and I’ll stop rubbing against you.” 
A chuckle left his mouth but he didn’t stop moving and neither did you. The two of you kept moving, rocking your hips back and forth against each other. Soobin’s hand on your belly moved lower and lower as time progressed. You’ve done things like this before with other guys, same with Soobin and females. But with the way you both were breathing, how in sync your hearts were beating, the feeling of being this close…It made everything ten times better. 
Was it because…it had to be. 
Soobin pushed his fingers down to the band of your shorts, slipping his fingers underneath it, “Can I touch you?” he whispered in your ear, placing a kiss on the shell of it, “Please, can I touch you?” 
You nodded, placing your hand on top of his and pushing it down, guiding him slowly to where you need him the most right now. And once his fingers cupped your heat, you flung your head back onto his shoulder. 
“Shit YN,” he breathed, “So wet, and I haven’t even fully touched you yet.” 
You lifted your leg up and over his legs, giving him more access to you. His index and ring fingers spread your lips apart, the middle slowly rubbing at your clit. 
You softly moan, arching your back. But Soobin’s hold on you with his other arm around your chest kept you from moving too much, holding you tightly to his chest. 
You started once again rocking your hips, doing it in hopes he would move faster, and slid his fingers into you. Soobin wasn’t stupid, he could tell you wanted more, “What do you want?” he whispered, biting at the shell of your ear, “Tell me what you want, baby.” 
“L-lower,” you whimper, “Faster, please.” 
Soobin hummed, sliding his middle finger to your entrance, “Is this what you want, baby?” 
You nodded, bucking your hips. Soobin smirked and slowly pushed his index and middle fingers in. You both let out a breathy groan as his fingers slid in all the way to his knuckles, your cunt squeezing around them. 
Soobin pushed them in and out, in and out, starting at a slow pace and slowly picking up speed. Your body was shaking against his, his cock growing more needier by the second. 
He wanted you. Oh, good gods he wanted you. 
“Baby,” he shifted a bit, his body slightly towering over yours, “Can I have you?” 
You nodded frantically, your hands reaching for him and pulling him into a kiss, “Please,” you whispered against his lips. 
Soobin completely shifted himself over you, hovering just the right amount to keep his fingers filling you while his other hand reached for the ends of your shirt, “I want this off.” 
You smirked, “Take it off me yourself.” 
Soobin chuckled on your lips, removing his fingers from your cunt and sliding his hands up your body, taking your shirt with them. 
It didn’t take long for all of your and Soobin’s clothing to be thrown in all different directions of the room, leaving you skin to skin. 
There was something so beautiful about being connected to you like this. The way your skin felt on his. How your bare legs wrapped around his waist and lips kissed down his neck. It was something Soobin wanted to be painted into his memory forever. It wasn’t even just about the sex you were about to have. It was all about you. 
Soobin couldn’t stop the gasp that let his mouth as his cock slid deep inside you, the tip kissing beautifully at your cervix. He held you tightly to him as he started moving, keeping one hand gripping your thigh, “Fuck, YN. YN. YN. YN.” Your name chanted from his lips. It flowed out so easily. Like your name belonged in his mouth. 
“Soobin,” you whispered, pulling your face from his neck and laying down on the pillow, cupping his face between your hands, his pretty brown eyes staring back at you, “I think…no, I know it. You’re my soulmate.” 
Hearing those words had Soobin melting. His face fell to your neck, hand squeezing your thigh tighter, “And you’re mine,” he whispered back, “Oh gods you’re mine.” 
With all your strength, you rolled him over onto his back, straddling him. You took his hands in yours and you rode him, squeezing his hands with each roll of your hips. You don’t know what came over you, but hearing how you were his, it did something, “Say it again, please.” 
Soobin squeezed your hands tighter, “You’re mine.” 
“Again.” 
He smiled, “You’re mine. You’re my soulmate. Mine. Mine. Mine.” 
The words came out so easily for someone who didn’t believe in them at first. But looking at you like this, all on top of him, riding his cock, how could he not believe in it? Your hearts were now tied together. He belonged to you. You belonged to him. And he had no problem chanting out those words until he was cumming deep inside you. Continued chanting them as he flipped you onto your back and his fingers once again found their home inside you, chanting them as you came around them. 
Soobin used to curse his trope, but now all he could do was thank it. It gave him you. 
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“We’ve been out here for an hour,” Sunghoon groaned, throwing his head back over the chair, hands gripping the fishing pole, “Jake, why did we have to come fishing again?” 
Jake glared over at him, “Because we had massive luck yesterday. Figured we would today as well,” Jake shrugged and glanced back out into the water, “Not my fault you’re being crabby today.” 
Sunghoon groaned again as he lifted back up his head, tilting it to the side to look at Soobin, “Try sharing a room next door to them at night and tell me if you wouldn’t be crabby.” 
Sunghoon’s words went in one ear and out the other, he was too busy staring down at a text message from you. But Sunghoon’s clearing his voice brought him back to the guys around him, “What?” 
Jake scoffed with a smirk, “You know what. The whole house heard the two of you last night.” 
Soobin grinned as he shifted his gaze off to the water, “And that’s my problem how?” he said in a teasing voice. 
You and Soobin continued your sexual activities after the first round. Neither of you could get enough of the other and eventually, you both stopped caring to keep quiet. It was just unfortunate for those in the house. 
Jay nudged Soobin’s shoulder, “Am I going to have to buy some earplugs tonight?” he joked. 
Soobin shrugged and smirked at Jay, “Possibly, we do still have one more full day left to cause some chaos.” 
“Please don’t,” Shotaro chuckled, “I enjoy my sleep.” 
The males all laughed and continued their teasing, except Soobin noticed Sungchan being awfully quiet and staring down at the docks they all sat on. 
Sunghoon nudged Soobin, leaning closer to him and whispering, “I’m actually really glad you and her have something. She seems so happy being with you.” 
Soobin knew that Sunghoon was aware that at first, this was all an act. So honestly hearing those words made him happy. You and Sunghoon had talked with each other during breakfast this morning, so Soobin more than likely knew you confessed what was actually happening now. Soobin opened his mouth to reply back to Sunghoon, but a loud scoff following a chuckle had everyone turning their heads towards the direction it came from. 
“Happy? She’s happy to be with you?” Sungchan laughed, turning to face Soobin directly, “You think I buy that? That you aren’t just some random guy she met on the bus that day? This is all an act. I know YN! Better than—“ 
“She’s my soulmate,” was all Soobin said. He had no desire or even the need to confirm nor deny Sungchan’s suspicions, “She’s my soulmate and I think you need to accept that and learn your place.” 
Everyone fell silent, the only sound was the waves crashing against the wooden columns of the dock and the wind blowing past. 
“Look man,” Soobin sighed, “I don’t know what you were hoping for with this vacation, but I would really appreciate it if you backed off my girl,” Soobin looked back out to the water, gripping at the handle of his fishing pole, “You’ve hurt her enough, let it go.” 
Soobin was fueled with anger, so distracted he had no clue the line of his pole was being tugged, “SOOBIN!!” Jake yelled standing up to his feet and pointing at the ripples of the water, “YOU CAUGHT ONE! REEL THE LINE BACK!!!” 
With the excitement of possibly catching a fish, Soobin threw his anger out the window, deciding it wasn’t worth worrying over Sungchan. Everyone was now aware that you were tied to him, and that’s all Soobin cared about at this moment. 
Besides, of course, pulling his first fish of the day on the docks and cheering along with his new friends, “I have to show YN!” Sunghoon said, pointing at Soobin to lift up the fish and smile wide for a photo, sending it directly to you. 
You sat on the couch with Yunjin between your legs on the floor in the middle of braiding her hair when Sunghoon sent you the cutest photo you’ve ever seen of your soulmate holding up his first catch of the day. It was adorable. You couldn't help but laugh and save the photo to your gallery, “Want to see the fish Soobin just caught?” you asked her and the other girls, turning your phone around to show them. 
“He really is a cutie!” Sakura clapped her hands, “Fate was really on your side when picking out your soulmate!” 
You didn’t even have to tell the girls that information, they just kind of guessed at it. Your smile wasn’t doing much justice for you. You’ve been smitten ever since your first kiss with Soobin, “Fate really was on my side, wasn’t it?” 
You felt Chaewon’s eyes on you, a small sad smile on her face. The two of you have barely spoken to each other this entire trip and you could tell since the night of the bonfire, she’s had words she kept locked in her throat. 
“Hey!” Yunjin sat up, her long red hair falling between your fingers, “The boys are still busy fishing, why don’t we go shopping? There’s a cute surf shop down the beach towards the pier I want to check out!” 
Everyone agreed. As the girls stood up and rushed out the door, Chaewon gripped your wrist, “YN, can we talk first?” 
You nodded, slowly turning to face her, “What is it?” 
She let go of your wrist, “I am truly sorry! For everything!” You blinked at her, not expecting this conversation right off the bat, “Chan and I were drunk, we weren’t thinking straight. It only happened that one time and I promise you that. Chan got confused about his feelings, and that’s how it blew up as badly as it did. I wanted to tell you from the beginning, but Chan said he would take care of it and I was stupid to believe him on that,” she reached for your hands then and you let her, “I removed myself from our group because I thought you’d hate me. Sunghoon said you needed time and I wanted to respect that. But I miss our friendship, I miss you. I came on this trip wanting to fix our friendship, not because Sungchan told me to.” 
You had to admit, you also missed her and your friendship with her. This trip hasn’t been completely the same because of the distance it put between the two of you. You already knew Sungchan was just trying to pull some fast moves, but Chaewon was being true from the beginning. 
So you hugged her tightly, “I forgive you. I’ve missed you too so please don’t run away from me anymore, okay?” Chae nodded, hugging you tighter, “Now, let’s go get caught up with Sakura and Yunjin.” 
With a giggle, you and Chae rushed out the door. 
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Before you knew it, Soobin was packing up your backs into the backseat of his car as you hugged your girlfriends tightly, “We need a girl's day soon!” You said, “I’ll kick Sunghoon out of the apartment for a day.” 
Sunghoon sighed, crossing his arms, “You act like I don’t have a soulmate, other friends, or even Soobin I could hang out with for the day.” 
Soobin wrapped his arm around Sunghoon’s shoulders, “Yeah, babe,” he said sticking his tongue out at you, “I’ll just steal your best friend.” 
You glared at your now boyfriend, “You’d steal my best friend from me?” 
Soobin shrugged, “If you’re going to kick him out, ya.” 
You rolled your eyes and continued hugging your friends, deciding to fight your mate and best friend later at the apartment. 
After all goodbye had been said, everyone piled into their own cars and drove off, leaving the beach house in the distance. 
Soobin reached over and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing the plush, “Did you enjoy yourself?” 
You nodded, leaning back in the seat, “I really did,” you shifted your eyes to him, “Wasn’t expecting to gain my soulmate out of it though.” 
Soobin chuckled, rubbing his thumb against your skin, “You and I both. By the way,” he glanced at you quickly, then back at the road, “What was your trope?” 
“Sunshine,” You whispered, “It was sunshine.” 
He smiled, biting at the corners of his lip, “Sunshine, huh.” 
You sat up and leaned over the center console, poking your finger in his dimple, “And what was yours, my sunshine?” 
Soobin took your hand in his, “Fake relationship,” your eyes widened at his trope, “Yeah,” he chuckled, “It wasn’t exactly the best.” 
“You must have been freaking out when I asked you to be my fake boyfriend for the week, I’m so sorry!” 
Soobin shook his head, “I…I didn’t believe in tropes or even soulmates. I thought it was weird and a coincidence. I’ve had many fake relationships before, so I thought this was no different,” he lifted your hand to his lips, playing a few soft kisses to the palm of your hand, “But you changed everything, obviously.” 
You smiled, “It’s funny you say that, because I didn’t believe in tropes of soulmates either.” 
Soobin quickly looked at you again, then back at the road, “Sunghoon literally has a soulmate!?” 
You sat back in the seat and stared out the window, “Trust me, I know. Right in front of me and I still didn’t believe a lick of it.” 
Soobin smirks, “Do you believe in it now?” 
You giggled, squeezing his hand, “I do. How could I not when I have my own pocket full of sunshine?”
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—p.tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns
@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi
@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty
@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez
@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @vixialuvs
@seunghancore @enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee
@hxxsxxng @moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee
@teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee
@hee-lvrr @1309zip @moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s
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notafunkiller · 11 months
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out of style
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Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.
Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 7.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
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What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.
You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.
You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.
“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.
“Vodka so early?”
You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.
“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.
He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.
God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.
“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!
“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.
“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.
“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”
“Huh?” You choke.
“Vodka lovers.”
Alright, time to get out of here!
You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?
And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.
“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.
You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.
“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”
“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.
“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”
His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.
He must be looking for a ring.
God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.
You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.
Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”
You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.
You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.
And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.
“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”
“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”
He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”
“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”
“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”
Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”
“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”
You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”
“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”
“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.
You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”
He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”
You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.
You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.
“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”
“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.
“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”
You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”
You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.
“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.
“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.
“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”
He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”
His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.
“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.
“Aww, what happened?”
It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”
“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”
“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!
“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”
“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”
“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.
“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”
“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”
“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”
“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”
“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”
“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”
“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.
“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”
“Stop. It.”
“Why? You didn’t stop!”
He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”
You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.
“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”
“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”
“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”
“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”
“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.
His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.
“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”
You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.
“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“With my small dick?”
You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”
He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.
“Why would I let go of my wife?”
You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”
He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?
“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”
“What are you, a fucking stalker?”
“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”
“W-what?”
He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.
“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”
“How?”
He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”
You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”
“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”
You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.
“Why would I notice, James?”
“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”
Fair point...
“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!
You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.
Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.
“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.
“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”
“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...
“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”
He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.
“What?”
“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.
“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”
You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...
“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”
You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.
“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”
You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.
When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...
“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”
That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.
“But the wedding… They would kill us.”
“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”
You can’t hold back your laughter.
“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”
“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”
You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”
Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”
“I know.”
*
You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.
“Hurry up!”
“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.
“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.
“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.
“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”
You snort. “My boobs?”
“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.
“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”
“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”
As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”
He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”
You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”
“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”
“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”
“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”
“Then why does it keep coming back?”
He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”
“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”
“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”
“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”
“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”
“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.
“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”
You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”
“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.
“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”
Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”
“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”
He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.
“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”
The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.
“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”
“Dick!”
“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”
“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.
Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!
“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”
“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”
He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”
“Eww, what the fuck.”
He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”
Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.
“Shut the fuck up and eat!”
His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.
You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.
So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.
When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.
There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.
Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…
You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.
As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.
“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”
You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”
“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”
“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”
You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...
“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”
“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”
“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.
“Out of love.”
You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.
“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”
“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”
He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.
The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.
He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”
“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”
“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.
“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.
“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”
You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.
“Good.”
“What about you?”
“No one for me, either.”
You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.
“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”
You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.
Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.
He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.
“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”
You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.
“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”
“I told you I never gave up on us.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”
He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”
“Even when you were with other girls?”
Your heart is racing.
“Never took it off.”
You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.
“No wonder why nothing worked.”
“I had no intention to make it work.”
You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.
“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”
You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.
“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”
He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.
“I hate you so much!’
He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”
“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”
“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”
“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”
“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.
You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.
“Ass in the air, come on.”
You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.
The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.
You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.
“Mine.”
You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”
And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.
“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”
You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”
“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”
He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”
“James...”
He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.
“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”
“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”
He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.
You smirk.
“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”
“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”
“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”
His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.
“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.
“We’re getting married tomorrow.”
You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”
“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.
“We... we have to apply first.”
He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.
“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”
“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.
You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.
“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”
You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.
“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”
He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.
“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”
He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.
“I love you.”
You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.
“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”
Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”
“I’m not your wife yet.”
“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.
“Bucky!”
“What? We need new rings.”
You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”
“We need...”
“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”
“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”
He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”
“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”
You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.
“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”
“Don’t want to or can’t?”
You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.
“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”
“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”
“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”
“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”
Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”
“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.
“Table. God... Do you think they know?”
“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”
You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”
“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.
Ass...
“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”
“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”
“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.
“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”
“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”
He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”
You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.
“I know. Thanks for asking.”
“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”
“Do you plan on staying there?”
He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”
“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”
“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.
“Why? Is this all you could give me?”
“Oh, fuck you!”
“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.
“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”
“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”
“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”
You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”
“What snack?”
“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”
“I told you she is not-”
“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.
“You’re so jealous.”
“Lock the door!”
You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.
3K notes · View notes
katz-chow · 1 year
Note
any thoughts for pervy könig? i know he'd be so gross amd clingy, constantly stealing panties and huffing at them :( or watching you across from the showers, fisting his leaky cock and making eye contact with you :(
i bet he'd be stalk you 'nd everything !!! being so creepy and openly desperate :(
ignore this if you're uncomfortable !!
warnings: nsfw, gn! reader, pervy, toxic, power play, corruption kink, stalking, somnophillia, not proofread :D
all the things that lead up to that though, waiting and stalking you to see your reaction to everything hes doing.
him purposely putting a hand on your lower back to walk past you, his large hand traveling a bit too far down until you feel a squeeze on your ass
the next time he does it, you quickly arch into his grasp and look at him with those doe eyes of yours, all innocently. from then on, he knows how cheeky and desperate you are
always teasing you by making you go shower last, saying he needs some…help with paperwork. you always agree because he’s your superior!! why wouldn’t you??
ends up with the both of you in the empty showers late at night, you rubbing the soap down your body with the open curtains, allowing him to lean back on the benches by the lockers to feel his pants tighten, your freshly worn underwear in his hand.
by the time he finally pulls his stiff, leaky cock out, he can’t help but use your underwear to jerk him off :( it’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to you, you’re just so young and precious!!
will keep your cum stained underwear to “wash for you”. you ended up never seeing them again…along with a few other pairs
pervy konig who sneaks into your room while you’re asleep using his rank to get the master key. he sits there kneeling on the floor next to your bed as he sniffs your hair and your musk, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat from your sleep
he inhales your scent and just like that, he leaves his own potent one, cumming on your sheets…or if he’s feeling rather possessive, he’ll grind against your arm or hand until he cums all over you
pervy konig who grinds up against your ass when you’re both supposed to be focusing on a debrief, but he doesn’t care, it could’ve been an email. not his fault you’re standing next to him, your smell just turns on something feral in him
making you go into parade rest, your hands behind your back to grope and touch his growing bulge while no one dares peep a word about him grinding and grunting in the back of the room, he’s their superior too!! why would they risk getting in terrible trouble? especially harsh when someone that’s not him making you embarrassed
pervy konig who thigh fucks you, rarely ever allowing his dick to your oh so needy parts, slick dripping down your thighs and mixing with his own precum. when he thinks you’re doing particularly good, hell intentionally slide higher and rub against you, making you tremble and moan, edging you and denying. it leaves you all needy, allowing him to do all the pervy stuff just for the chance that he might authorize you to cum
“you’re too good for me, schätzelein…can’t stand ruining you yet…”
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Text
It's Okay To Ask For Help
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.4k
Warnings: angst, unwanted touching (grabbing one's ass without permission), creepy men
Summary: Things don’t look good from where you are. You work at a run-down bar, you’re a single mother trying to keep a roof over your head, and you’re trying to give your daughter the childhood she deserves. You don’t see yourself going up from here until reconnect with Spencer Reid.
Square Filled: bartender au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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“Sweetheart! Another round!”
You have to keep the disgust off your face as you pour the man another round of whatever he is drinking. Sweetheartisn’t the worst thing you’ve been called at your job, but it’s the way he said it that has your skin crawling. You slide him the beer and pull your hand away fast enough before he can reach out and touch you. He grabs his beer and goes back to talking to his friend but keeps one eye on you.
You move to the other patrons of the bar and push the creepy man out of your mind. It’s not that you hate this job, you hate the people that come in. You’re the only female bartender which warrants unwanted attention from men nearly twice your age. Your boss isn’t any better as he usually lets this type of behavior slide, but at least he doesn’t try to touch you every hour.
The alcohol is running low so you step off to the side to grab some more while your coworker mans the bar. You walk into the back and bend over to grab two bottles when you feel someone press against your ass.
“Damn, baby, I have been thinking about this ass ever since I stepped foot in the bar.”
You stand up so fast that you would have gotten dizzy if it hadn’t been for the stranger groping your ass.
“Get your hands off me!” You turn and push the man away. “You’re not even supposed to be back here!”
“Come on, darling, just give me ten minutes of your time. I promise to make it worth your while.”
You’d slap him if you thought that would keep him away from you. Fucker probably likes that shit.
“No! Get the fuck out of here!”
You’re loud enough to cause your boss to enter the back room, and you look at him with wide eyes that have tears threatening to spill out.
“What’s going on here?”
“Sorry, man, I was trying to find the bathroom.”
“It’s the other hallway,” your boss points.
“Right. Thanks, man.”
You don’t wait for the door to fully close before talking to your boss.
“That man was lying. He came in here and grabbed my ass! I want him thrown out of the bar!”
“Whoa, calm down. That man has paid a lot of money tonight. I’m not going to just throw him out,” your boss sighs.
“He grabbed my ass. Don’t you care that he assaulted me?”
“Don’t be overdramatic. I’m sure he was just looking for the bathroom and accidentally knocked into you.” Your mouth opens. You can’t believe your ears. “Kevin is getting swamped out there. Get the alcohol and get back to work.”
You stay in the back room and cry for the next ten minutes. You’d quit if you didn't need this job. You have a daughter at home to support, and her father is only doing the minimum to help you. The court ordered him to pay you a thousand dollars a month for child support, and that barely covers your rent. You still have to work long hours just to put food on your table. You can’t afford to lose this job because no other place will hire you.
You’ve applied for other places and have even gotten an interview once, but nothing ever came of it. It’s like they back out as soon as they hear you’re a bartender at this bar, or the fact that you’ve got tattoos that you can’t exactly cover up with normal clothes. You don’t have any on your face or neck, but you do have some on your hands and chest. Darren, your boss, only hired you because of the way you look in a crop top--at least that’s what you believe.
You wipe your tears and join Kevin behind the bar to continue as if nothing ever happened. The man is gone but that only; means two more people just like him replace him. The only thing getting you through this shift is the fact that your sister is kind enough to watch Delilah until you get off at five in the morning. She’s agreed to the arrangement since she leaves for work around the same time you get off.
You’re saving what you can even if it’s only fifty bucks a paycheck, but it’s not nearly as much as you’d hope. Something needs to change or else you’ll drown in pain.
The rest of the shift goes by relatively smoothly, and you leave just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. You drive to your sister’s house where she is getting her lunch ready for work. Her husband is already out of the house since he’s a contractor and works before the sun is out, and Delilah is still in her pajamas watching cartoons in the living room.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.
“No. Just a rough night, I guess.”
“You really should look into getting another job.”
“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “Are you ready, Delilah?”
“Yes, Mommy!”
You leave with your daughter and head back home where you get her ready for school. You drive her to the bus stop and watch as she gets on. After the bus has left, you manage to make it home without crying. As soon as you step through the door, the waterworks are in full effect. Once that dam has been opened, it’s hard to close them. After a quick shower, you crawl into bed to try and get some sleep. You don’t have blackout curtains so the light still shines through the dark curtains, allowing you to see all the artwork you’ve hung on the walls.
You’re a good artist but you can never make any money off it. If you could, you’d be doing that full-time instead of bartending to a bunch of assholes. You manage to fall asleep until three when you leave to pick Delilah up from school. Your shift starts at seven in the evening so you have a little time to spend with your daughter before dropping her off at your sister’s.
“How was school, baby?”
“Good! I got to sit next to Lily today. Her and her Daddy are going to the fish zoo this weekend. Can we go?”
You chuckle at what she calls an aquarium. Your smile is lost when you think about Lily and who her dad is.
“You mean Lily Reid?”
“Yeah. Can we go? Pretty please?”
“Sure, baby. That sounds fun.”
You’ll have to work a double in order to pay for it, but you’ll do it if it means giving your daughter a normal childhood. Back before you had your daughter, you used to live right next door to a man named Spencer Reid. You two were joined at the hip and did everything together, often spending the night in each other’s apartments to keep each other company. You never did figure out how you felt about him until he left for the FBI academy.
By then, it was too late. You haven’t seen him since.
There are rare times when you see Spencer drop his daughter off at school before he goes to work, but you hear about him more than you see him. Delilah and Lily have a lot of after-school playdates at your sister’s house when you have to go to work early or need a bit more sleep, so you hear about Spencer from your sister. She knows about the two of you and often tells you about how he’s doing. She’s rooting for the both of you even though you don’t think he’d be interested in you now.
It was rough work but you managed to make it to the weekend without too much of a problem. Kevin agreed to take your shift on Saturday so that you can spend it with your daughter, and you agreed to take his Monday so he can have at least two days off in a row.
“Come on, Mommy!”
Delilah practically drags you into the aquarium hoping that Lily is there waiting for her. Spencer and Lily aren’t there yet so you two decide to wait in the large waiting area. The place is a large glass tunnel where you have an unobstructed view of every sea creature swimming by. Due to the excess water, the entire room has a blue hue to it. Delilah is mesmerized by the animals and runs over to the glass to press her face into it. You’re kind of nervous at seeing Spencer after all this time because you finally figured out how you felt about him after he left.
You were in love with him… you might still be.
You take out your phone and take pictures of her posing in front of the animals and some when she’s not even paying attention. She looks to the right and squeals when she sees her best friend.
“Lily!!”
You watch the two little girls run and hug each other, and your eyes lock on Spencer’s. Seven years apart but it feels like no time has passed when you look into his eyes. The girls go off to explore while still being close enough to you and Spencer.
“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” you ask.
“Still in the FBI and catching bad guys.”
“That’s so cool to be in the FBI.”
“Not as cool as you might think. How have you been? What are you up these days?”
“Bartending at the moment. Remember Skull Bar?”
Spencer stops walking and looks at you in shock. “You’re still bartending here? Didn’t you hate that place?”
He must remember the nights when you’d come home crying because you hated how you were treated by sleazy customers.
“I still do, but what am I going to do? I have Delilah to support, and it’s not like her father is helping much. I should ask for more since he is making a lot of money, but I haven’t had time to go to the courts.” You two continue walking after both of your daughters. “I miss living next to you.”
That’s your way of telling him you miss him dearly even if he doesn’t pick up on it.
“You know, the apartment next to mine just opened up. You two can move there. I know Lily would love it.”
It hurts knowing your lives would be much better staying at a place that doesn’t have broken appliances, but how will you ever afford it? You can barely afford the dump you live in now.
“Spencer, it’s a nice thought but it’s not like I can afford it. I make good tips but bartending barely puts food on my table. I can barely afford the twenty-five hundred dollar rent I have now. Apartments in the city cost a lot more. I appreciate the offer, though.”
“Are you still drawing? I remember you always making me something. You were and probably still are incredible.”
“Some but it doesn’t pay the bills, so I had to put it on the back burner.”
“You’re talented enough to make it a career.”
“Well, when you know of a job that will benefit me, let me know.”
Spencer nods in thought and you two continue to walk after your kids in silence. His phone rings and he steps off to the side to take the call while still following the girls. You look at Spencer and admire him without him knowing about it. He’s grown a lot since you last saw him not only physically but mentally. He must have been through a lot of shit to have that faraway look in his eyes.
He ends the call ten minutes later and walks back over to you. Lily and Delilah are busy petting the sting rays which will give you another twenty before they’re ready to move on.
“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to shut it down immediately. I want you to think about it,” Spencer says.
“Okay…”
“My team is looking for a sketch artist, and I know you’d be perfect for the job. You have the skill. It pays well, better than bartending, and the benefits are so much better. You and Delilah would be taken care of.”
You gasp at the thought of finally leaving that shit hole, but you remember the promise you made Spencer. You bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from denying it. After two minutes of thinking about it, you release your bottom lip.
“What do you think I’d say to that?”
“That you’re not a charity case and you don’t need help.” He’s right. You would have said that. “Just think about it. Think about Delilah. It’s still within the school’s boundaries so she doesn’t have to switch.”
You look at Delilah and Lily who are laughing from the water the sting rays are splashing. This job would offer you a more normal schedule and allow you to spend more time with her. You’d be able to provide her with a better childhood.
“Your office is on the other side of town from where I live. My car isn’t that great.”
“I know of a place a lot closer,” he smirks.
“Is this a ploy to get me to move in next to you?”
He shakes his head with a smile. “Sometimes people need help, and it’s okay to ask for help. That doesn’t make you a bad mom or a bad person. It makes you strong because you’re doing it to get better.”
Tears well in your eyes at the opportunity being presented to you. You don’t hesitate to give him your answer.
“I’ll take it.”
You pull Spencer in for a hug and wrap your arms around his neck. Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and closes his eyes from the feeling of you being back in his arms. You pull away from him but don’t step away from him. He glances down at your lips wanting to kiss you but not wanting to overstep.
“You owe me ten bucks,” Lily says loud enough for you two to hear. “Look at them. They’re gonna kiss. I told you bringing them here was a good idea.”
You giggle at the thought of both of your daughters being little masterminds. Well, if money is on the table, you better make Lily ten bucks richer. You lean up and kiss Spencer, finally feeling like everything is right in the world.
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lovebugism · 11 months
Note
fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.
thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)
fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.
He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.
It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.
And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.
Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.
Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”
You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.
He caves. “…Yes.”
“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.
“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”
“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”
Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.
“Wait, really?”
You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”
“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.
“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”
Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.
“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle. 
“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”
Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.
You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.
“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.
He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.
“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.
Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.
“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”
You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”
Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Do you want a blowjob or not?”
“Well, yeah, but I—”
“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.
Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.
Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric. 
“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”
You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you. 
His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.
His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.
You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest. 
When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.
“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”
You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you. 
Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit. 
The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.
“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”
You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw. 
“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”
He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.
You don’t get caught, though. 
Not really, anyway.
There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.
Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back. 
“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.
Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”
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xzaddyzanakinx · 6 months
Note
first of all, i fucking love ani being a stalker:(
and what about bestfriend!anakin? but like, he's a bit creepy. he just knows he's been in love with you since you two were kids. you're his first love. you were just to dumb to see it. and he was always there to take care of you and hug you when your boyfriends dump you after he secretly threatens them because no one is too good for you. no one but him.
also, have you never noticed that some of your panties are missing?
I will totally do bestie!Ani. He’d be so sweet but so mean simultaneously.
Warnings: controlling behavior, gaslighting, verbal/emotional abuse/condescension, gen. smut, rough foreplay, hair pulling, dubcon, slut shaming?, kinda innocent/definitely bratty & naive reader, arguing, possessiveness, ownership, misogyny
“Oh for the love of-“ Anakin grabbed your wrist and yanked you roughly away from the handsy jock who’d lured you to the living room couch at this frat house party that you just ‘had to go to’.
“Ani that’s rude! You can’t just do that!” He huffed, protesting physically by stubbing up and trying not to move. “At least let me say goodbye! He was being nice!”
“No! You’re drunk and he’s just talking to you because he thinks you’ll be an easy lay.” He snapped, changing tactics and gripping the back of your neck to steer you toward the door.
“You just let him put his arm around you and squeeze your ass! Are you fucking daft? At this point you’re just asking for it.” He sneered, opening the passenger door of his truck and lifting you up. He reach across you and buckled you in just like he always did.
“Is that what you want?” He asked angrily, throwing the truck in reverse the moment he slammed his own door shut.
“No!” You started crying, your bottom lip wobbling when you realized Anakin was right. “I’m sorry Ani! D-don’t be mad! Please, I’m sorry!” You sniffled.
He let you sob, apologize, beg, and grovel the entire way back to your shared apartment. He got out of the truck silently and walked around to your side, helping you out and shutting your door. His hand on the small of your back as he walked one step behind you until you reached your front door and stepped inside.
“Ani please! Talk to me.” You whined, the silent treatment killed you everytime he did it. “This isn’t fair! I’m sorry I was being s-so stupid! I’m sorry!”
Anakin ignored you, pretending you weren’t even there. He didn’t even miss a stride when you stood in front of him defiantly. He just side stepped you and played it off as though he meant to do it, he scooped up a throw blanket and sat down on the couch.
“Fine!” You stomped off to your bedroom and got changed into a comfy nightie, pouting and sniffling away the remaining tears.
He was really, really pushing it with the silent treatment this time. It’s been almost three hours. It’s 11:00pm and you’ve padded around the kitchen, slamming cabinets as you loudly made yourself a snack. You practically tossed the heavy ceramic plate onto the coffee table with a clatter. You’d tried all your tactics that normally have him holding you, coddling you and comforting you while you apologized profusely. Nothing was working.
You sat down in his lap and blocked his view of the Tv, he was completely unfazed. He simply pulled out his phone instead.
That was the last straw.
“This isn’t fair!” You shrieked, standing up suddenly and pointing your finger in his face. “You’re being an ass! What happened wasn’t my fault!”
His jaw tightened and he struggled not to react, you could tell, his nostrils flared and his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek.
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.” You scoffed continuing to chide him animatedly.
Until you said the wrong thing. Oh, you really, really fucked up royally. You’d never seen him so angry. Livid. Livid was a better word.
He swatted your hand away the moment those words left your lips: “You don’t own me. You can’t tell me what to do!”
“I don’t?” He sneered, standing up and using his height to his advantage, towering over you. “Are you sure?”
“What? Yes I’m sure!” You huffed.
“You ungrateful brat.” He snapped. “You depend on me for everything. You live in my apartment. You need me to provide for you: food, clothes, the stupid shit you just have to get everytime we go to the fucking store. You’re worse than a child. I’ve spoiled you until I’ve ruined you. Without me, you’d be hopeless.”
“You know nothing about the real world because I’ve coddled you for years. You’ve never had a job. I do all your homework because your tiny little girl brain can’t handle more than a few words at a time. Fuck! I do everything for you! When was the last time you tied your own shoes?”
“You think I don’t own you?” He growled, ignoring your whimper as your lip trembled. “I do own you.”
“You belong to me.” He scowled. “Why do you think you don’t have a fucking boyfriend, why no one has ever asked you out since fucking freshman year of highschool? Why do you think the only attention you get is from a random creep while you’re wasted and wandered off from me?”
“Everyone else knows you’re mine. Everyone but you.” He yelled. “I’ve spent my life bending over backwards for you! You fucking stupid spoiled bitch!”
He laughed throwing his hands up and running them through his hair.
“The sad thing is: I can’t even blame you for being so goddamn useless. It’s my fault.” He said angrily. “It’s my fault for treating you like a fucking princess your whole life. I’ve waited on you hand and foot for the entirety of my existence.”
You stood there motionless. Mouth gaping in shock, your eyes dry of tears because… how do you even react to this response? It was as if he’d caused you to completely fawn, your gaze fixed on him as your brain raced to process his words.
“You don’t have anything to say?” He scoffed, rubbing his face before snapping his fingers in your face. “Hello? Earth to princess.”
“I love you! I fucking love you.” He yelled and that startled you out of your stupor.
“Love me?” You echoed.
“Yes, you fucking dumbass.” He groaned.
“You love me love me?” You asked, shocked that you’d somehow been so oblivious. Maybe it was because he was right, he’d always treated you this way. You were just to stupid to understand why.
“God.” He grumbled, grabbing a fist full of your hair with his left hand and forcing you down over the armrest of the couch. “I love you. You love me too don’t you?”
“Y-yes.” You nodded, admitting it aloud for the first time.
“Of course you fucking do.” He said in a softer tone, though his actions didn’t mirror it. He roughly pulled down your panties and let them fall to the floor.
“You’re mine aren’t you? I own you. Right?” He demanded, his rough fingertips gently gliding back and forth across your dripping slit. “Fuck. You don’t even have to answer that.” He groaned through gritted teeth.
He swirled his finger around your entrance before dipping inside and removing his finger just as quickly, bringing it to your lips and shoving it in your mouth.
“Suck it clean.” He ordered. “You wouldn’t be so fuckin’ wet if I didn’t own you. Right?”
You simply nodded, your brain addled with the onslaught of information that it struggled to keep up with. You really were useless.
“I’ve been patient.” He said slowly, his tone low and gravely as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, his other keeping it’s place in your hair. “I’ve waited for you to realize it on your own.”
“That was my mistake.” He sighed, unzipping his pants and letting them fall. “I should’ve known you’d need me to spell it out for you, just like with everything else.”
“Well this time I’m gonna show you.” He said sternly, leaving no room for negotiation. “You want that don’t you? You want my cock?”
“Uh huh.” You nodded, pushing your ass up alittle higher.
“See? Mine.” He chuckled. “Even after all that, you’re still my obedient little puppy aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, too distracted by his cockhead rubbing firmly through your folds to collect your slick.
“You know that’s why I call you puppy right?” He snickered. “Cause you’re my bitch.”
You whimpered, ashamed that you found it incredibly attractive.
“Fuck. So goddamn needy.” He laughed, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up. “Is my little puppy ready for me? Ready for me to fuck this pussy til’ all you have left in that dumb little brain is me?”
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depravitycentral · 9 months
Text
Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile
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Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader
Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 12K
HABITS
In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.
It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?
He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.
Except, then you show up.
His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.
This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.
(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)
Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.
He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?
Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.
Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.
He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?
Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?
He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.
It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.
He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…
He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.
And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.
In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.
So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.
(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)
He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.
(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)
He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.
He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.
He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.
A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?
He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.
The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.
It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.
He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.
Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.
He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.
Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.
He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.
As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.
The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.
He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.
His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.
Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –
Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.
Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !
His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.
He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.
He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.
He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.
He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.
He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?
He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.
Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.
He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.
You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.
 Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.
He really is a fucking creep.
FAVORITE BODY PARTS
Your thighs
Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.
Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.
It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.
And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.
Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.
Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.
Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?
(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)
Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.
He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.
Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.
(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)
He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.
He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.
He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.
You can’t.
His hands
In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.
And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.
But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.
(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)
He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.
All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.
And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.
They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.
He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.
(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)
He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.
DRIVE
Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.
Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.
(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)
He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.
It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.
But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –
He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.
And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.
But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.
Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.
And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.
And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.
(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)
And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.
You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.
But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.
(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)
He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.
And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.
And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.
They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.
And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.
It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.
And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.
Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.
And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.
Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?
When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.
Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?
Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –
Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.
I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.
You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.
It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.
Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.  
MAIN THREE KINKS
Clothed Sex
It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.
Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.
But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.
And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.
He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.
He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.
He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.
And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.
And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.
It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.
The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.
And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.
He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.
Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.
He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.
He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.
(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)
Overstimulation
Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.
Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.
(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)
And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.
 He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?
He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.
He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.
He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.
There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.
But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.
He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.  
He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?
How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?
It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.
And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.
You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.
The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!
Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.
And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.
When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.
And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.
He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…
Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.
Anything.
Voyeurism
Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.
And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.
It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.
He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.
(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)
Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.
(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)
Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.
(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)
Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.
You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.
And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.
Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.
He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.
He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.
And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.
You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.
He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.
You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?
OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE
Hair Pulling
But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.
Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.
There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.
He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.
When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.
When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.
Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.
He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.
Mirror Sex
In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.
And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.
And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.
He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.
He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?
He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.
And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.
He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.
He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.
He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.  
BIGGEST FANTASY
In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.
However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.
And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.
It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.
Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…
The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.
There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.
Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.
Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.
A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.
Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.
He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.
He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.
A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.
Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.
He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.
That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.
“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.
Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.
Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.
Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.
“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.
“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.
“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.
You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?
It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.
Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.
The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?
His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.
“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.
He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”
You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”
He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.
You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”
And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.
His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.
Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.
“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”
And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.
794 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 6 months
Note
COULD U POSSIBLY MAKE A MATT FIC BASED OFF OF THIS TIKTOK OR SONG (YOU CAN DECIDE IF U WANT IT TO BE SMUT OR NOT IF U DO MAKE ONE) https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8wp5H2t/
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🔗
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MY OH MY
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get into a pickle when you get poured on, but don’t worry… somebody comes to save you.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, p in v, ass grabbing, faux sympathy, cum eating (🙈)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,400
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: meant to post earlier but tumblr decided to close the draft without saving as i was proofreading/editing🤣
hope you enjoy @sluttyformatt :)
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rain trickles down your hair to your shoes; workout clothes soaked.
you wanted to go on a late-night walk, then suddenly it started pouring out of nowhere. currently, you’re standing under a roof edge, arms crossed while you wait for your ride.
your brother isn’t around to pick you up, so your last resort was his best friend. he’s your brother’s age, who’s two years older than you. he’s known him ever since high school, yet your mother always said matt was a bad influence.
although, you do see where she’s coming from. matt was the type to always get in trouble in school, and overall he’s just a big grump. he’s only been nice to you, your brother, and of course his siblings.
headlights glow down the street, getting closer until the minivan stops in front of you. you quickly head over to it, open the door, and get in on the passenger’s side. “hi matty!” you beam. “thank you so much for picking me up. i didn’t know it was going to rain.”
he looks at you, wearing the leather jacket he’s had for as long as you can remember.
he truly doesn’t understand how you can be so happy no matter what, even if you are drenched in water. “you should’ve checked the weather before you left.” he mumbles, putting the car in drive.
“well, it was sunny all day. i didn’t expect rain. it’s okay, though. it’s like a surprise shower.” you smile, fastening the seatbelt.
“uh oh,” you say, looking through your fanny pack that you have strapped to your stomach.
he sighs, still focusing on the road. “what is it now?”
“i may or may not have left my keys home and locked myself out. nobody’s home.” you lick your teeth. “can i come to your place until my brother picks me up? pretty please, matty?”
“fine.” he inhales sharply. “and stop calling me matty.”
it’s silent as you two sit on the couch. your brother texted you saying he’ll let you know when he’s on his way, but god knows how long that’ll be. (despite it being almost midnight)
matt notices a shiver, taking his eyes off of his phone to look. your hands rub up and down your arms trying to warm up, but the chattering of your teeth indicates that it isn’t helping. “go to my room and grab one of my hoodies and pajama pants. they should be in my dresser.” he says coolly.
you smile. “it’s okay, i can wait. i’m fine.”
“put them on.” he demands. “you’re soaking wet and freezing.”
staring at him, he keeps staring back because of your silence. “go.”
you sigh like a child, getting up from the couch and walking down the hallway into his bedroom.
matt’s clothes are far too big on you, but you do feel warmer and more comfortable. his pants hang low just past your waistline. the hoodie on the other hand is long, causing the sleeves to give you sweater paws.
you sit on the chair he has in the corner, scrolling on your phone. matt can’t help but stand at the doorway, watching you.
not in a creepy way, but the fact you’re wearing his clothes has his dick reacting from the view. the way it’s too big for your body turns him to fuck on.
he cannot feel this way toward you. your his best friend’s sister, for god’s sake. but he can’t help it.
“feel better?”
you get startled by his voice. “yes, thank you.”
“told you so,” he grumbles.
rolling your eyes playfully, you stand up. “i didn’t mean to linger in here. i got distracted.”
as you start to walk by him, he grabs onto your shoulders to stop you. your breath hitches at the feeling of his rings; the way they drag down your arm makes you subconsciously clench your thighs together.
his cologne floods your nostrils, and the way he’s looking at you is different now.
he’s always been a grumpy kid and had a resting bitch face, but now he’s looking at you seductively and with need.
the hand that was on your arm now cups the front of your neck. there’s no pressure, but the fingers with no rings go over your bottom lip.
he sighs sympathetically. “it sucks that you’re off limits. i would so fuck you right now.”
your eyebrows raise high from the sudden courage he had to just blurt that out. however, you smirk.
“if you kiss me.” you shrug. “i might let it happen.”
he groans, leaning down to smash his lips on yours.
still intact, you grab his jacket and pull him in closer, your bodies moving at the same rhythm.
he starts to push you back to where the chair is, turning you 180° so he’s the one sitting in it while you straddle his lap.
your hips grind, rubbing just the right spot on not only you but him also. you smile into the kiss when you feel him hardening beneath you.
tugging at the pants you're wearing, he pulls away. “take these off.”
you shimmy them down your legs as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his bottoms down below his thighs. he grabs your hips to hover you over him, but stops and teases the tip.
you wiggle to get some friction as he smirks. “manners.”
“please.” you whine. “please let me ride your cock. i’m so fucking wet for you.”
matt sinks you slowly onto him, your walls immediately stretching to his size. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.”
you mumble something into his chest, bouncing uncontrollably on his dick. your sweater paws ball up on his biceps. your ass slaps repeatedly on his skin, the sound echoing off the walls.
he tuts, grabbing your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. “why so quiet?”
“stop.” you mewl, nuzzling your face even deeper into his body. your face is hot from embarrassment.
“is somebody embarrassed to be fucking her brother’s best friend? it looks like ms. goody-two-shoes is a little naughty.” he says lowly into your ear, causing you to start whimpering and going even faster.
it doesn’t take long for his tip to brush against the right spot “oh, fuck.” you moan, legs shaking at his sides.
“better not get this chair dirty, otherwise i’ll make you clean it,” he warns, knowing that you can’t control your orgasm.
pouting, you clench hard. of course, your release runs down his thighs and onto the seat. your eyes are glassed over while you look at him, who’s shaking his head. “you’re making a mess.”
somehow so quickly, he lifts you off of him and onto the floor. now, he’s behind you, and your cheek leans against the chair.
he again nudges at your entrance, this time you buck your hips back but he grips them tight. “clean up your mess first.”
he doesn’t ask. he orders while pushing your head down further into the cushion.
obeying, you flick your tongue onto your arousal. normally, you’d find this gross, but you’re so wet and turned on that you’ll listen to whatever he says. his presence feels like you are under a spell.
a sweet and salty taste fall on your tongue, following his instructions to a t.
a hum of approval is heard behind you. he spreads your legs wider, slamming into you with no warning.
you moan loudly, arching as much as you can in this position. “m-matt! shit, matt!” you yelp.
he grunts, taking in how well your pussy feels engulfing him.
tears threaten to spill from your eyes once they roll back, moaning loud and clear when your g-spot gets abused already.
strings of curses leave your lips, the way he’s balls deep inside of you right now have you quiver a lot. “you feel—” you pause, licking your lips and shutting your eyes tight. “so good. like… holy fucking god.”
he chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder to drill into you harder. before you even know that it’s happening, you cum for the second time, shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure.
a deep breath later, matt makes sure to pull out and paint your back white.
“you can keep the clothes.” he says, jiggling your ass to play with it. “so you can wear them the next time i fuck you.”
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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darkbluekies · 1 year
Text
In our own world
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Yandere!king OC x fem!reader
Summary: You're bored and Edmund decides to create his own little excluded world where you and him can spend some valuable quality time, just you and him.
Warnings: obsession, isolation, Edmund thinking that he is better than everyone else (power dynamics?)
Word count: 2.1k
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Oh how bored you are. You've been sitting in the large window for what feels like an eternity by now. Maybe you could ask the maids to entertain you? No, that won't work. Edmund has said that none other than him are allowed to be with you unless he's said otherwise. Maybe … maybe you could ask Edmund to do something? Maybe he could let you … go out for a little?
You jump down from the window and leave the chamber. Wherever you walk in the halls, maids and butlers stop to bow at you and wish you a good day. At first, you found it soothing that someone acknowledged your presence, but now you find them creepy. 
You reach Edmund’s office and are met by a guard standing outside.
"Can I speak to him?" you ask.
"He's busy, your majesty", the guard replies.
"Please?"
"You shouldn't disturb the king. He was very persistent on that no one should talk to him before he's done with his work."
"Oh … okay …"
"Can it wait?"
You force a smile. "Yes, it can."
"Very well."
In defeat, you turn around to leave. The guard walks into the office to check up on the king.
"Who were you talking to?" Edmund asks without looking up from his desk. "Fuck all of these papers make me insane!"
"It was the queen, your majesty", the guard answers.
Edmund snaps his head up, his heart skipping a beat. You've finally come to him? 
"What did she want?" he asks quickly.
"She just wanted to speak with you", the guard answers. "Nothing more. She said that it could wait so I sent her away. I know how you said that you didn't want to be disturbed-"
"You fucking idiot! That rule implies for everyone but her. Go get her."
"... yes, your highness."
The guard runs out of the room, sensing that he's upset the king. Edmund sighs frustratedly, shaking his head. 
He returns with you by his side just a minute later. Carefully, he walks out and shuts the door behind him. Edmund smiles fondly as he sees you. You're so pretty.
"I heard you wanted to talk to me", he says softly.
"It was nothing important", you say. 
"Yes, it was. Come here."
He pats his lap. You walk over to him slowly and sit down on his thigh. Edmund smiles and wraps his arm around your waist securely.
"What did you want to say to me?" he smiles up at you.
"I was just bored", you say and shrug. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something but you're busy. I don’t want to disturb you."
Edmund sighs and looks over the papers drowning his desk. Why does he have to be a king?
"I am", he mumbles regretfully. "I'd love to spend time with you, my jewel, but if I don't complete this before tonight the Supreme Court will grill my ass."
"It's okay … I'll entertain myself. I'm good at it."
Edmund bites his lip, thinking.
"If I hurry up, will you wait for me?" he asks and squeezes your waist carefully. "We can do something together later. Why don’t you come up with something fun to do in the meantime?"
“I want to go out”, you say. “For a little while.”
Edmund grabs your cheeks in his hand and smiles cheekily. 
“You are not allowed outside, dearest”, he says with his eyebrows raised in that condescending tone you hate — sounds like he’s talking to a child. “You’re far too precious to be spoiled by the outside world.”
You sigh and fight back the urge to slap him. 
“Go wait in the bedroom and I’ll come get you when I’m done”, he says, giving you a sweet push towards the doors. “If any of the guards give you any problem, you come back and tell me.”
You nod. Edmund smile drops once you leave. He can’t believe how his own guard turned you away. You must have felt so shocked and humiliated. Edmund’s heart breaks at the thought. He clenches his jaw. If you want to go outside, then you shall. 
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You must have fallen asleep because when you open your eyes, Edmund’s kneels down in front of the bed, caressing your hair. 
“Y/N, my queen, why don’t you come with me?” he smiles. 
“Are you done now?” you ask and yawn. 
“Yes, I am. And I have something for you. Won’t you come with me?”
You get up from bed and follow him out of the room. He leads you through magnificent corridors, out to the backyard. You stop at the sight. A set table with flowers, pastries and tea. It’s taken directly out of a fairytale.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
He looks genuinely excited. Edmund loves to do these kinds of stuff. He’s never had anyone to surprise or impress before, but now that he has … it has become something he enjoys.   
“I love it”, you answer, still in shock. “Why did you suddenly change your mind?”
“I mean … this isn’t the outside world”, Edmund shrugs. “So I thought that is wouldn’t be too bad. This is our own little world. You can still see the sun, but you’re not tainted by the townsfolk. I guess I can let you be here. But only when I am too.”
You look around, seeing the high brick wall that keeps you locked in. You can tell guards are watching every corner. Edmund takes you to the table and holds out a chair for you. You sit down and start to search the table for what you should start with. 
“I’ve told the maids to stay away”, he says and lifts the teapot. “I want to do everything myself.”
You want to crack a joke about how he’s never touched his own utensils before, but you keep it in. It’s probably not a good timing. He seems to be in a good mood for once, you shouldn’t destroy it. He pours you some tea and holds out the cookie tray for you. 
“Eat as much as you like, my jewel”, Edmund says. “We have enough to feed the entire village here. Not that they will get any. Why would anyone unimportant deserve this kind of food? Pathetic. These kinds of meals are reserved for the important people.”
Pleasant as always.
“Thank you for bringing me out here …”, you say hesitantly after a while of awkward silence. “I’ve missed being outside.”
“You’re welcome”, Edmund smiles with a smile. “If you’re happy, then I am too.”  He breathes out and looks around. “Such a shame I’m always busy or we could spend all of our time together … just like this.”
You don’t answer. You’re not sure what you think about the idea. It’s not like you wanted to go to him for company. You had no other choice. He kills everyone you want to talk to. 
“Do you feel lonely without me?” he asks while keeping his eyes on the spoon he slowly moves around in his teacup. 
“I feel lonely, but I’m not sure it has so much to do with you … just overall”, you answer hesitantly. “It’s a big castle with lots of people I don’t know … everything is frightening and big …”
“It’s not dangerous for you. Only at night. But you’re safe if you stay in the parts assigned to you. You know better than to wander around.”
Oh, you know.
Suddenly, you hear a melody coming from afar. You look up, trying to find where the music is originating from. Edmund does the same and then breaks out into a small smile.
"Right, there were some things in the village today", he says, shaking his head slightly. "I should have told them to cut it out."
"What are they doing?" you ask.
"Partying. Something they don't have time for now that it’s harvest time."
He's about to stand up and tell a guard to get rid of the sound, but your hand shoots out, placing over his before you can think. He looks down at you, shock written all over his face.
"Please let them be", you beg. "They should get a break from their jobs and have some fun. They're humans. Besides … I kind of like the melody."
Edmund sighs heavily and nods. Remorsefully, he sits back down and looks at you with love growing in his eyes.
"You're wonderful, do you know that?" he asks. "I made a good choice in marrying you."
Your heart sinks whenever he talks like that. As if everything is a business deal to secure the heritage of the throne. Edmund has a tendency to be selfish and inhuman, how does he really care for you? Does he see you as another package deal to secure the future? Is he treating you differently because he should? Since you’re the queen?
"Can I ask you a question?" you ask hesitantly.
"Go ahead", he answers calmly.
"Did you marry me because you needed a queen or … because you actually wanted to?"
You can see him physically twitching. He furrows his dark brows and looks at you questionably.
"What are you saying?" he asks in confusion. “Are you serious?”
You nod. Your throat has gone dry. That voice. Oh, how you hate to confront him. He can never take anything in any way other than an attack. 
“Do you think I wanted to be married at this age?” Edmund asks with a raised eyebrow. “That wasn’t my priority, Y/N. With that said, you’re definitely not just something I ticked off the bucket list. Don’t … don’t I show you enough love?”
You shrug fearfully. After every horrific thing he’s done to the people around you — including you — there’s nothing that actually shows if he loves you or only sees you as a pet. Edmund gulps and pulls his chair back quick enough for you to shudder. He stands up and walks over to your chair … holding out his hand. You stare at it blankly.
“Would … would you like to dance?” he asks
"Huh?" you ask, wondering if you could have heard wrongly.
"Dance with me."
You get pulled up on your feet by a strong force and almost crash into him. He squeezes your waist and positions the two of you for a dance. The music from the village is enough for him to find a rhythm and bring you into a trance. You can feel the guards glancing at you. 
“Don’t look at them”, Edmund whispers warningly. “Look at me instead.”
You turn your eyes to him and he smiles. His smile makes him look like his actual age and it makes you relax slightly. After all, he’s just a young man without guidance. You shake your head. No. Don't think like that, don't give him excuses.
"There you go", he says approvingly. "Keep your eyes on me. There's only you and me in this world — in our own world — no one else."
He twirls you around before gaining another tight grip on you. You're sure that you'll get bruises on your hips by the end of the dance. You let him take the lead, not knowing where you’ll end up, but you know better than to question any of Edmund’s decisions. 
“The guards, they’re looking at you”, he says without taking his icy blue eyes off of yours. “Gawking even. Wishing that they had what’s mine. Pretty pathetic, don’t you think? To be jealous of me? As if they could ever be on my level.”
“I’m not on your level either, Edmund”, you remind him quietly, hoping to make him realize how stupid he sounds. “Would you talk about me like that too?”
He looks dumbfounded. 
“You must have hit your head or something with all the absurd questions you’re asking today”, he mutters and rolls his eyes. “No one is on my level — of course — but you’re far, far better than any of the other people in this kingdom. Don’t try to insult yourself by saying that you’re like them ever again, Y/N. I don’t like that.”
He dances round and round, holding you as close as he possibly can against his chest. You’re practically molded against his body. 
“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N”, Edmund whispers in your ear. “You make me crazy. I can never let you go. You’re so perfect.”
His arms tighten around you and you start to wonder if he’s going to break your corset. In this world of your own, he will make sure that it is only you and him. Only you and him … in your own little shielded, exluded world.
2K notes · View notes
sailorrhansol · 11 days
Note
ok ok requesting a treat for all of us, honestly
sleep demon seungcheol. extra sprinkling of nasty if possible. i want you to out-zaddy you know who.
>:) ok smooch smooch have fun!!!! I LOVE HALIWEEEEEN
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❀ Pairing: Incubus!Choi Seungcheol x afab reader
❀ Summary: You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help. 
❀ Word Count: 6,239
❀ Genre: Supernatural
❀ Type: Smut, PWP
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Mentions of insomnia including side effects like exhaustion, dysfunction, derealization, feeling out of it/in weird headspaces, time is not supposed to feel linear in this and it’s supposed to feel kind of liminal-space in places, reader is often confused/thoughts are a little scattered and feels out of it because of proximity to an entity, there are creepy vibes in this, Seungcheol doesn’t always appear the same/mentions of feeling like in danger or on edge around him instinctually, explicit language, sexually explicit content including unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, a lot of spit and cum, nipple play, reference to subspace or an adjacent, choking, oral (f. and m. receiving) multiple orgasms, biting and scratching, I wouldn’t categorize this as explicit dom/sub dynamics but there are power dynamics in some places, mean Seungcheol in spots, like very light humiliation if you squint in one section, overall just…. Weird ass vibes and reccouring scenes/reader not remembering things. 
❀ A/N: Hi Jolene Wolene Folene - thank you for requesting this thing that we totally didn’t talk about before I started Haliween and definitely maybe sort of giving me the outlet to write this weird little liminal space demon that I love doing so dearly. Pls enjoy spooky ooky kooky Cheol and his weird little obsession with reader :) 
❀ A/N 2: This fic is a part of my Haliween writing event that I’m hosting September - October. 
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween
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Nothing feels real. Your eyes burn as you stare at the computer screen, the letters and the buttons on your email becoming blurry as they swim out of focus. The dull sounds of your office feel as though they’re several rooms over, faint hums heard through walls of plaster. 
Pushing away from the desk, you head to the break room, in desperate need of coffee. You know drinking caffeine this late in the afternoon will only further exacerbate your insomnia, and yet you need it if you’re going to get through the next three hours at work.
You’ve hit the point in your endless nights of no sleep where everything feels off, like you’re experiencing things in the third person. You’re there but you don’t feel like it, navigating your day knowing that it’s you doing and saying things at work without really registering that you’re doing or saying those things. 
Coffee hisses from the machine into your cup. You stare at it, vision going unfocused again as the smell wafts up to you. Time passes. You stand and stare. 
Someone walks into the room, bringing you back to reality as you look over your shoulder and see your coworker come in to fill up their water bottle. They raise their brows at you as though to ask if you’re okay, and you grin, gesturing to the coffee like that’s some sort of answer.
Really, you’re not okay. You have ventured past the threshold of tired into something else entirely. Something that is lesser than, something base and nearly inhuman. 
Derealization. It’s a word your doctor had used when you described what it was like for you after so many nights without sleep, the disconnected feeling to the world around you. Even as you walk to your desk, it doesn’t feel real. You logically know that it is, that you exist in a specific time and space.
And yet… you remain buoyed in that space, totally untethered from everything around you. Floating. Lost. 
Back at your desk, the words on the computer screen blur again. Come into focus. You type and email. The keyboard makes sounds, but you don’t really register them. 
At some point, the day ends. 
-
A bright neon sign burns against the darkness of the alleyway. You blink rapidly, holding your hand in front of your eyes to block out some of the light. Looking around, you don’t see anyone else. The sound of the city is muted and far away, but you smell the burning of fuel and the smell of stagnant water under a dripping window air conditioning unit. 
You don’t remember walking here. You lower your hand as your eyes adjust to the burning pink above the door. Looking down at your clothes, you’re at least relieved to discover you put on jeans and a t-shirt before going out on an adventure out on the town.
Police sirens wail in the distance. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, thankful you brought it. 
“Fuck,” you swear, flashing the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning and you know immediately you’ve sleepwalked your way to this strange, unfamiliar alleyway. 
It’s a vicious circle: go days without sleep feeling like you’re a step away from death, or take just enough sleep medication to knock you out but make you sleepwalk. 
Shoving your phone in your pocket, you look back up at the neon sign, reading it for the first time. Hush. A shiver goes down your spine at the name, eyes flicking to the blue crescent moon attached to the pink cursive. 
There’s a magnetism about the sign. Your eyes dropdown to the door under it, a nondescript metal entrance to what you think is a bar. There’s nothing to indicate that it is a bar, just a gut feeling. Your gut feeling is also whispering at you to go inside, to open the door and step into the cool space of Hush. 
Licking your lips, you take one hesitant step forward. The tingling in your spine increases and you feel static in the air. Heart racing, you take another step. Then another. Before you realize it, you’re at the door with your hand on the knob, cool to the touch.
With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step inside. 
It’s even darker inside than the alleyway. Gentle piano music plays somewhere in the room and you swivel left and right, trying to gain your bearings as your eyes adjust. When they do, you see a very small room with a single piano in the corner, two booths, a bar at the back, and three stools pulled up to its counter.
A single person sits at the bar. You hesitate in the entrance, drinking in the stranger. It appears to be a man in a dark purple suit, his broad shoulders hunched over where he leans against the wooden bar top. You can’t make out much else beyond the wide shape of his shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, but you can see the crimson hair that glows like flame underneath the dull, flickering light above his head.
“You gonna stand there all night?” His voice is soft, a gentle pur. He turns his head to the side, his profile shadowed. “I don’t bite.” You hear the smirk in his voice when he tacks on, “Not often, anyway.” 
Carefully, you approach the bar. There doesn’t appear to be a bartender of any sort or anyone else in the bar, for that matter. You realize that there’s piano music but no pianist, but decide not to focus on it as you enter the man’s line of focus. 
When he looks at you, the world stops. It’s like stepping into a bubble, everything else ceasing to exist. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel your pulse hammer in your throat as you stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him.
He’s beautiful but it’s not that. His eyes are dark, but there is something more there. Something swimming in the depth of the darkness that you cannot place, something ancient and curious and awake. You feel pinned under his gaze, eyes darting to drink in the rest of his features: soft, pouty lips the color of berries, sharp jawline, thick, angular brows. 
Stunning. Dangerous. Alluring. 
“Hi,” he says, mouth stretching into a grin. His teeth aren’t sharp, but you have the distinct feeling that they should be. “You’re a pretty thing.” 
“Um, hi.”
“Can’t sleep?” 
“How can you tell?”
His grin spreads, wicked and cutting. “I have a feeling about those things.” His dark eyes drop to the seat next to him. “Have a seat. Maybe I can help.”
Tentatively, you sit down next to him. “You can help me sleep?” 
“What if I said I can?” 
Sitting next to him is oppressive. His presence weighs down on you, a physical entity that you can’t see. Static buzzes in your mind and your thoughts feel a little sticky, like just being close to him disrupts your frequency. 
He smells like jasmine, immediately soothing. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you blink a few times, settling on the stool as you angle yourself toward him. 
You’d misjudged his size when you walked in. He’d seemed broad when you first walked in, but you don’t think you fully understood the width of him. The weight of him. Or maybe it just feels that way when you look at him, your perception of him flickering like a bad TV signal. 
“Tell me about your sleep problems.”
You shrug. “They’re like any other sleep problems.”
“Not all sleep problems are the same, Pretty.” 
“I suppose that’s true. I don’t really know what causes them. I just… can’t fall asleep and then I start getting worried I won’t sleep, so it makes it worse. I want to sleep so bad but it’s like… wanting to sleep only makes it avoid me more.”
“Mmm. Sleep is a fickle thing, isn’t it?” 
“My doctors give me meds but the normal dose doesn’t work and the stronger dose… makes me walk around.” 
He pouts. “You poor, sweet thing.” 
Something about his sympathy makes you flush. You sulk, looking down at the countertop as you pick absently at the peeling varnish on the wood. “I know,” you murmur. “I just want to be normal.” 
“I can help. If you want it.” 
You glance at him. His eyes are dancing dangerously. Half of you screams yes while the other screams run. You’re only vaguely aware that you’re in a bar alone with a strange man who knows you’re sleep deprived. No one would help you if you screamed. You don’t know where you would run.
His dark eyes seem to read your thoughts and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns to pick up his drink from the bar. “I’m not that sort of creature.”
“How would you help me sleep?”
“Are you accepting my help?”
His question hangs in the air between the two of you. The piano music has stopped, but you don’t remember when it did. Overhead, the light still flickers. On. Off. On. Off. Onoffonoffonoff-
“You’re under no obligation to accept.” His voice is kind. Warm. Soft like your blankets, cozy like your bed. “You’re always free to make your own decision.” 
“I want help,” you agree slowly. “I really do.”
His red mouth curves into a smile and again, you’re struck by the thought that his teeth should be sharp. “Good. I’ll help you, Pretty.” 
“What’s your name?” 
“You can call me Seungcheol.” You give him your name and he tilts his head, drinking you in. “I know.” 
“How are you going to help me sleep?”
Seungcheol finishes his drink. You watch him swallow thickly, suddenly fascinated with the way his throat bobs as he does. The smell of jasmine is overwhelming as he leans in, stopping an inch away from you.
The static increases. You feel your blood buzz pleasantly. 
“Close your eyes for me,” Seungcheol murmurs, looking at you through silky lashes. “I promise everything will be okay.” 
For a moment, you stare at him, the air charged. He doesn’t hurry you along, content to study your face with that same uncanny darkness swimming in his eyes. 
Taking a deep breath, you do what Seungcheol says, and you close your eyes. 
-
Sunlight wakes you up. You roll over in your bed, squinting up at the window. Your blackout curtains are open, letting the morning beam in on where you’re tangled in your comforter and sheets. 
Sighing heavily, you close your eyes again, content to lay in the warm sun. Just as you start to drift to sleep again, you recall a pair of dark eyes and fiery hair. You jolt upright, heart hammering as you remember the exchange. 
Snatching your phone from your nightstand, you open your walking app to look at where the hell you went last night, but there’s nothing there. Frowning, you pull the sheets off your body. You’re in pajamas and fuzzy socks that you don’t remember putting on. 
Hauling yourself out of bed, you lean halfway into the laundry basket to claw through your clothing. None of the things you wore last night are there, so you go to your closet to wrench the doors open and search. 
The shirt from last night and the exact pair of jeans are hanging, completely unworn. Your frown deepens as your confusion rises. Turning away from the closet, you open your phone again and try to get any sort of sense of where you went last night, but there’s no text threads. No signs you used public transportation. Nothing in any of your tracking apps that indicate you left at all. 
“Was it a fucking dream?” you mutter to yourself, perplexed. 
Sitting down on your bed, you try to look up Hush on the internet. You can find nothing in your city that indicates a bar or establishment like the one you discovered Seungcheol in. You even try social media to look him up - Reddit, neighborhood pages, anything to try and find the stranger from last night.
It seems Hush and Seungcheol don’t exist.
And yet… you don’t remember going to sleep last night after he agreed to help you. And you feel rested today. 
Puzzled and a little freaked out, you give up your search. A dream is a dream, and you’re content that you finally feel a little less exhausted and a little more awake. You’ll take the win, getting up to start your day with a little bit of pep in your step. 
By midday, you’ve mostly forgotten about the bar and the man in it, only remembering those dark eyes and that red hair. 
-
Heat creeps up your spine. You nuzzle against the warmth behind you, the smell of jasmine coaxing you deeper into the embrace. You feel the vibration of laughter against your back, your nerves tingling as you feel feather-light fingers brush up your thighs. 
“Tired?” 
Immediately you know it’s Seungcheol’s deep voice, that same velvet purr whispered right in your ear. You shake your head no, suddenly not wanting to sleep at all. You press into him further, feeling the way his arms tighten around you as he chuckles, mouth pressing chastely against the spot under your ear. 
“Liar,” he teases. 
You pout. It might be true, but he could have the decency to pretend it’s not. You open your eyes and look up at him. His hair is like spilled blood in the dark of your room. The curtains are closed, blocking out all light from the moon and street, but your salt lamp still burns in the corner. 
Seungcheol looks like the devil in the low, orange light. He’s in a black t-shirt, which is somehow more deadly than the fine cut suit. Your stomach flutters and you squeeze your thighs shut when you realize his hands are brushing up and down your thighs, touch slow. 
“Thought you were a dream,” you mumble, words a little thick. “Thought you weren’t real.”
“Dreams can’t be real?” That makes you frown and he laughs, jostling you against his chest. His hands squeeze your thighs and you let out a breathy sound as he nudges you with his nose. “You don’t know anything about dreams, Pretty. Can I show you?” 
More than anything you want him to show you. Suddenly your desire for him outweighs any sort of sleepiness, your nerves sparking and coming to life as you nod helplessly against his chest, trying to lean as close as possible. 
“Needy,” he chides. He presses a wet kiss to your jawline and you preen, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I’ll go easy so you remember this time, alright?” 
“Cheol.” 
The nickname sounds familiar. Intimate. Like you’ve said it before - something tells you that you have said it before. You don’t remember where or when, but it’s with familiarity that you moan the nickname again as he nips at your neck, one hand drifting between your legs to pry them open. 
He murmurs praise against your ear when your legs drift apart, spreading to accommodate his seeking touch. You’re wearing shorts but it feels entirely too hot under the blankets pooled around your waist. You kick at them and whine, managing to get them down to your knees before he huffs and presses forward, temporarily bending you in half to toss them. 
When he settles back against your headboard, you follow him, turning your head to press your mouth to the corner of his. His lips twitch in a smirk, shifting to catch your mouth fully with his. 
Seungcheol kisses you like he knows how you like to be kissed - devouring, consuming, hungry. His tongue brushes against yours as he drinks you in as his hand presses between your leagues, applying pressure to your clothed cunt.
You whine into the kiss and he grins against your mouth. A line of spit connects your lips when you pull away panting, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His fingers circle your clit gently and your hips buck in his hold against the stimulation. 
“Not enough,” you whisper. You grip his wrist with one hand, the other gripping the sheets to bunch them in your fist. “Cheol, please.”
“Hush,” he scolds, biting your jaw. His free hand comes up to your neck, gripping you under your jaw to angle your mouth back to his. “Kiss me.” 
You melt in Seungcheol’s grip. His tongue tastes sweet, his grip on you making you dizzy. Your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he works you up, his touch teasing and not enough through layers of fabric. 
He knows it’s not enough, content to string you along until you’re writhing against him, back shifting against his chest as you squirm. His kisses drift from your mouth to your jaw, open-mouthed and spit-slicked as his tongue darts out to taste your skin while he goes. 
Seungheol’s grip on your chin slides down toward the base of your neck, his fingers pressed tight against your pulse. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in his grasp as he bends your head away from him, lips attaching to the softness of your throat. 
His name escapes your lips in a whisper. He hums a pleased sound, tongue dragging up your neck to your ear where he nibbles. “So good for me,” he whispers. “I’ll reward you.” 
You follow with an urgent nod, pleased when his hand slides down the waistband of your shorts and underwear. When his fingers brush against the flushed, sticky folds of your cunt, you keen loudly, unable to keep it together.
“So needy.” You can’t tell if it’s an insult or not the way he growls the word against your ear, grip on your throat tightening. “Need my help that bad, huh?” 
“Yes, god.”
“I am not god,” he grinds out, voice dark. For a second, the illusion shatters and you glance up at him. His eyes are endless, an ancient thing looking back at you. You freeze in his hold, a prey caught in a trap. Then he softens, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Tell me what you need, Pretty.” 
“Hands. Need your hands.” 
A bolt of pleasure goes through you when Seungcheol’s middle finger circles your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist, leaving little crescent moons behind. His ministrations are leisurely, giving you what you want but not as fast as you want it. 
That’s Seungcheol’s game. He’ll give you what you want, only when he feels like it. You feel a sense of deja vu, realizing that you’ve been here before. Snatches of memories flash through your mind. They pass through your grip like sand, none of them firm enough to grab onto. 
“Missed you,” you mumble. “Can’t sleep without you.”
“Ah, there it is.” 
Seungcheol is pleased with your recollection. You can tell when he relents his teasing touches, fingers drifting down to press a single digit into your heat. Your stomach flips when he does, relief sweeping through you as he shallowly fucks you with a single finger.
It’s not enough but it’s better. You shiver in his hold, going a little slack in his arms, hips twitching. He’s content to have you like this, working your cunt slowly, watching your reactions as your breathing catches and restarts. 
“Feel good?” 
“So good.” You can barely get the reply out, words faint. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Pretty.” 
His kiss is soft against your cheekbone, at odds with the grip he still has on your throat. You feel his hand like a comforting weight, loving the feel of it resting against your pulse. He doesn’t squeeze or choke you, content just to hold you against him. 
Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, the wet squelch obscene. “Take this shit off for me,” he tells you, pulling at your shorts. 
His heavy hand rests on your collarbone as your hands shoot to your shorts. Hooking your thumbs in them, you shimmy down, lifting your hips with his help to kick them down your thighs and legs to the floor. 
Cool air hits your heat as you settle against his chest again. He nestles against your neck, fingers resuming the task of peeling you apart as he sinks his pointer and ring finger into you. You clench around him, loving the stretch and the feeling of his fingers pressing against your g-spot as he slowly strokes you, breath hot against your ear. 
Being unable to remember your previous encounter with him feels cruel. Seungcheol knows exactly how to work you toward your high. The slick sound of his fingers between your legs accompanied with his lips pressed against your neck drives you insane. 
Unable to keep still, your hips come up off the bed to meet his hand. The hand not fucking you to insanity slides under your shirt. Heat trails his touch. He traces the curve of your breast and your breath stutters, catching in your throat. His nails scrape against sensitive skin, moving higher until he drags his touch over your nipple. 
The heel of Seungcheol’s hand presses firmly into your clit. You mewl, thrashing against him, closer and closer to your peak. His strokes turn harsh, finger-fucking you at a brutal pace while his other hand tweaks your nipple, the pleasure-sting making you quake. 
“Come on,” he urges, voice deep. Sharp teeth scrape against your throat. “Come for me, Pretty.” 
Everything turns to static as you clench around his fingers. You squeeze so tight he can barely continue stroking you through your peak. There’s a high-pitched ring in your ears as you pant through it, vaguely aware that Seungcheol is muttering something against your ear that you don’t understand. 
As your orgasm fades, so do you. The world becomes soft at the edges. You feel Seungcheol’s heartbeat against your back and smell jasmine, but you slowly drift away from him, barely able to catch his growl of remember me next time before you’re gone. 
-
Cold granite countertop digs into your knees. You barely register the pain, one hand pressed flat to the counter, the other reaching behind you to tangle in Seungcheol’s hair. Your hot breath skates across the surface, the cool stone not enough to combat the heat of your skin. 
Seungcheol’s face is pressed as far as he can go into your cunt, the flat of his tongue dragging from top to bottom. You’re nearly catatonic, eyes rolling behind your eyelids as he fucks you with his tongue. 
He grunts when your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he sucks harshly at you. He’s loud as he eats you out, his hunger something more demonic and fiendish than you’re used to. You don’t care, pressing back into him as he mouths at you. 
His hands firmly pry you open, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You can feel the bruising way he holds you, uncaring as he works you toward another high, so desperate for it that you’re begging. 
Begging for what, you don’t know. None of the words that fall from your mouth really make sense. You’re a rambling disaster under the mastery of his mouth, and as you tiptoe the line of your high, it feels like you’ll never unscramble your thoughts again.
You come again, feeling the way you flood his mouth. He doesn’t care, growling low in his throat as his mouth becomes more insistent, fingers pressing into you even harder. Something takes over him in that moment, his grip on you so fierce that you think you might break.
But you don’t. You never do. 
-
“Pretty,” Seungcheol murmurs, cocking his head to the side. Your mouth aches where it’s stretched harshly around his cock, spit leaking from the side of your lips. His thumb brushes across the spilled fluid, grinning as he leisurely pops it into his mouth and sucks. “Such a pretty thing, mouth full of cock.”
You hum around him eagerly, shifting back and forth on your knees. He’s got you on the floor of your bedroom in front of your bed, hands linked obediently behind your back while he stands in front of you. His stomach ripples as he flexes his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your mouth.
Your throat seizes around him again and you feel yourself gag. He pouts and pulls back, letting you gasp for breath. Your mouth is a mess of saliva and cum, wet and sore and battered. You don’t care, looking up at him with watery eyes and sticky lips.
“So important to me,” he whispers, nodding as though to assure you. Your stomach flips and you shuffle toward him eagerly, mouth open. “So perfect for me.” 
Instead of using words, you stick your tongue out, eager. Seungcheol grins and the room darkens. There is a buzz in the back of your mind that you can’t place, ignoring the feeling in favor of watching him slowly slide back in, letting your tongue scrape the bottom of his shaft.
Seungcheol sighs, tilting his head back as he sets a slow pace, using your mouth as he pleases. He’s beautiful like this, all tan skin, heaving chest, sweat sliding down his neck, red hair damp. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, cherry lips parted sweetly to show his sharp little fangs as he pants. 
So pretty, you think. Even with teeth sharper than they should be.  
-
You’re standing in front of a bar named Hush. The pink neon burns bright against the gritty night, hurting your eyes. Turning around in a circle, you notice there’s no one else in the alleyway. There’s a certain charge to the air, a hum that you can’t place, but grows stronger when you turn to face the bar again. 
A single door sits under the sign, closed and waiting to be opened. Chewing your bottom lip, you stride toward the door, unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side. 
With a hard yank, you pull the door open and step into the darkness of the room beyond. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the single, flickering light over the bar, but once they do, you see it’s a tiny room. A single piano sits in the corner near two booths, and there’s only one bar top in the back, a few stools in front of it. 
A single man sits at the bar but he’s facing you, leaning back on his elbows as he drinks you in. He’s in a purple suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, and his red hair is bright enough to light the night like a flame. 
He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Hi,” he greets. “Can’t sleep?”
“How can you tell?” 
“I’m familiar with these things.” 
He looks like a devil. You can’t place your finger on what exactly about his face makes you think so. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean and when he smiles, you swear his teeth are sharp. “Need some help?” 
You do need help sleeping. The doctors can’t help you. Therapy doesn’t help you. Something tells you maybe this stranger can help you. 
“Please.”
“It would be my pleasure, Pretty.” 
-
“Seungcheol,” you gasp, hand flying to his wrist to grip him. “Fuck, holy shit.” 
Fuck is absolutely right. His hand tightens around your throat, placed just right to make it harder for you to breathe. Your thoughts swim as he fucks into you, his sweaty chest sliding against your back as his strokes grow harsher. 
Your knees slide on the bed under the strength of his thrusts. He growls at you to keep up and you whimper, flexing your thighs to remain upright as he drives his cock into you at a pace that sends you hurtling toward your peak. 
“So fucking difficult,” he grunts in your ear. His teeth nip your ear lobe and you whine, intoxicated by the smell of jasmine and the tightening knot in your stomach. “You’re always so difficult.” 
You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t think it’s the first time you’ve heard something like that from him. Your thoughts turn to liquid you come around him though, feeling the way you grip his cock like a vice, seizing in his hold.
Everything turns to nothing. You can’t hear, see or feel anything but static. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.
And then you're gasping for air, lungs burning as you gulp it down. Falling forward, you crash into the sheets and into complete darkness. 
-
“Why do you come and go so often?” 
Seungcheol lifts his head from the bed to turn and look at you. He’s still naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, crimson hair clinging to his forehead. He’s on his stomach laying opposite of you, his head by your feet. 
Something sparks in his eyes at your question, his heavy brows pulling together, cherry lips downturning. “I only come as often as you let me.” 
“What do you mean?”
His face twitches in what you think might be annoyance. “You have a complicated relationship with me.” 
“We have a relationship?” 
He snorts and turns away from you, resting his chin on his arms as he settles back down, closing his eyes. He reminds you of a cat - a particularly dangerous cat, you think. “I suppose. Most people couldn’t say they have a relationship with me, and yet I keep letting you invite me back.”
“Invite you?” 
“Hush. Stop asking questions.” 
“But I don’t… understand.” 
“Good,” he quips. “Because every time you do, you send me away only to invite me back in.” 
-
“Come on,” Seungcheol teases. “You wanted it, so do the work.” 
Your thighs ache. A pitiful sound leaves you as you nod, putting your hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders as you lift your hips, legs shaking. You’re exhausted and burned out, but the ache you need filled as you slowly slide up his cock drives you to keep going. 
Dropping back down in his lap, you feel sparks. Your movements are slow. Seungcheol’s hands are tucked behind his head where he leans back on your pillows, fathomless eyes watching you as you ride him, a little uncoordinated and weak from the exertion he’s put you through all evening.
“Cheol, my thighs,” you protest, instead trying to grind into him. He raises a brow and you pout. “Please.”
“No. Come on, Pretty, you can do it. You can fuck yourself on my cock and make yourself come. Come on.” 
“Cheol.”
“No. Do it yourself.” 
Gritting your teeth, you let your annoyance fuel you. Anger burns right alongside pleasure as you find the strength to do exactly as he tells you. Leveraging your hold on his shoulders, you continue to spear yourself on him at a steady pace and slowly, your anger is replaced with bliss.
Seungcheol feels incredible. He’s hard to take, stretching you to the max and at this position, he’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You keep going, nails biting into his skin and drawing blood but you don’t care. 
Fire burns in his eyes as he watches you. You stare right back, seething at the way he’s making you do it yourself, a little bit of humiliation stinging the edges of your pride. You can tell he thrives on this, satisfied that what you want outweighs any sort of desire to be stubborn.
Somehow, he always wins like this. Always manages to get you to do what he wants. He’s sneaky like that, knowing just what button to press to get you where he wants you. 
Sometimes you feel like you’re a puppet whose strings are connected to his fingertips. 
Either way, you manage to drive yourself to an orgasm, shuddering around him as you seat yourself fully in his lap, throbbing around him. He lets out a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep his composure.
Leaning back against his knees, you catch your breath. He’s still painfully hard inside of you, and when his eyes open, you see his hunger isn’t sated. Your heart lips when he surges forward, fast as an adder. His mouth crashes into yours hungrily and you let him have you, eager at the flutter in your stomach as he shifts, altering the angle. 
“I’m not done,” he mutters, kisses turning into sharp bites. “So hush while I take what’s mine.” 
-
Something wakes you up from sleep. It’s too dark in your room to see, but your heart is hammering and your hands are quivering. Leaning toward your nightstand, you search for your phone. All you feel is cool wood, no device anywhere.
The dark is oppressive. You don’t remember your room being this dark, the blackout curtains serving as a good device to keep out the city and streetlights, but never so much that you feel swallowed whole. Lost. Devoured.
A tingle buzzes at the back of your neck. You freeze in bed, looking into the never ending darkness. Silence roars in your ears, the outside world completely removed. You can’t even hear your own pulse or breath, the quiet so heavy that panic starts to rise in your throat.
You can’t see but you know you’re not alone - can feel the solid press of something else in the room. 
Too afraid to make noise, you resume the search for your phone, fingers moving slowly across the top of your night stand. You can’t find it. 
Something presses into the mattress at the end of your bed. You feel the dip under its weight but can’t hear the creek of springs. You give up the search for your phone, snatching your hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.
It’s a dream, you tell yourself. It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s- 
The thing in your room moves closer. A scream works its way up your throat where it gets stuck, lodged and unmoving. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, fireworks of color exploding behind your eyelids as you do. 
“I know you’re awake, Pretty.” The voice is so low you can barely make out the words. They scrape against you like claws. “You can’t keep doing this,” it says, almost a sigh in its voice. “You know what this is. What I am.” 
“Go away,” you whisper, voice weak. “Leave me alone.”
“Don’t do this again.” 
“Go away, Seungcheol.” 
There’s a low growl that you can feel as it vibrates the air. “As you wish.”
-
The neon sign above the door says Hush. It burns bright and pink against the night sky. You look around, unsure how you got here. Sighing, you pull out your phone to check the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning, which means you’re probably a victim of your sleep walking again. 
Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you look up at the sign again. There’s a little blue moon to accompany the pink cursive neon, and though you don’t think you’ve ever seen this bar before, there's a magnetism about it that draws you in. 
Curious, you walk up to the door and go in. The lights are dim and you have trouble seeing at first, but you can make out that there’s a piano in the corner, two booths and a small bar with some stools. A man sits at the bar, his back turned to you. 
“We’re closed,” he grumbles without turning to look at you. You frown, cocking your head as you drink him in. 
The purple suit he wears is an odd choice. His hair is the color of blood, slicked back and a surprisingly nice contrast to the bright color of his suit. A single light flickers above him, painting him in a gold hue.
“What is this place?” you ask, ignoring the fact that it’s closed. 
He doesn’t answer for a second. You think he’s going to ignore you, but finally he says, “Do you have trouble sleeping?” 
You’re surprised by the question. “Yes, actually.” 
“I can help.” 
“Really?” You step further into the bar, watching as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. He is painfully pretty, the kind of beauty that reminds you of old paintings of Lucifer. “How?” 
“Are you accepting my help?” 
Without hesitation you answer, “Yes.” 
His cherry red lips twitch and he shakes his head. Picking up his drink, he polishes it off before standing to turn you fully. The weight of his presence presses down on you like an invisible blanket, weighing you down.
“Of course you do.” He strides toward you and though your instincts tell you to run, something else tells you to stay. He looks down at you with a pair of eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you let them. His lashes are silky and long, a delicate balance to his heavy gaze. “You always need me, right, Pretty?” 
You nod, a word - a name - buzzing on your tongue as he looms over you. “Please,” you whisper, thoughts a little cottony, a little dizzy. “Seungcheol.”
He grins, revealing sharp teeth. “Hush,” he murmurs. “You’re mine.” 
-
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ellieswrldd · 1 year
Text
drunk in love
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pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: when a hot stranger stands up for you at a club and offers to buy you a drink, how could you say no?
content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, public sex (public bathroom), drunk sex (reader is tipsy, ellie is high), strap-on use (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), ellie calls the strap her cock, reader is shorter than ellie, brief weed use, alcohol, use of term 'pretty girl' & she/her pronouns on reader, creepy guy hits on reader, brief slut shaming. https://open.spotify.com/track/6jG2YzhxptolDzLHTGLt7S?si=9940e02d8b1743a6
With loud party songs blasting around you and your friends shouting drunkenly in your ears, you could hardly form a coherent thought. It didn’t help that your mind was already a bit hazy from the few drinks you’d downed at the beginning of the night when your best friend Dina had bought you and all your friends several rounds of drinks to celebrate her engagement. That’s why you all were here after all, it was Dina’s bachelorette party, and she had chosen to get wasted at a popular nightclub in your city. 
It was clear that every girl you’d come with was already drunk, making you the soberest one of your friend group, despite being more than buzzed. As they danced wildly on the dance floor, you found yourself in need of fresh air. The club was packed full of sweaty, drunk partygoers, and all the movement and lack of space made it difficult to enjoy yourself. Waving to your friends to let them know where you were headed, you pushed through the throng of people surrounding you until you saw the exit. 
Once outside the building, you took a deep breath and leaned against the scratchy brick wall. The air was cool and brisk against your exposed skin, the consequence of wearing such a revealing outfit. Dina had persuaded you to wear a revealing sequined top with a matching miniskirt that just barely showed the crease where your ass met your thighs. It was impractical, that was certain, but something about dressing so provocatively to go out with your friends boosted your confidence. 
You rubbed at your bare arms as you let out a long sigh. In your peripheral, you saw a tall man approaching you cautiously. Gnawing on your lower lip, you straightened up slightly, glancing around at the other people loitering around the building. 
“Hey there,” His deep voice broke the peaceful silence. You turned to eye him for a moment before looking away. 
“...Can I help you?” You muttered, your voice dripping with annoyance. The man chuckled softly and cleared his throat. 
“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink or something. You’re like exactly my type, and–” He said as he leaned against the wall. You shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him. 
“Not interested, sorry.” You cut him off and crossed your arms over your chest. 
“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” He laughed sharply as if he was in disbelief that you had rejected him so suddenly. 
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not interested. Would you just leave me alone now?” The words sounded monotone and bored as they came from your mouth. 
“Listen, I was trying to be nice and give you a good time, but clearly, a bitch like you can’t appreciate a good guy when she comes across one.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I even offered. You’re dressed like a total slut. Most guys want their women with a little bit of taste.” You spun on your heels to face him, your expression a mix of anger and disbelief. 
“Hey, dickhead, she asked you to leave her alone. Get over yourself and go home.” A woman shouted from behind you. You turned curiously and glanced over at a young woman only a few feet away. 
She was leaning against the wall, joint burning between her lips, her green eyes trained on you. She took a long drag from her joint and exhaled as she let it fall to the cement and put it out with her shoe. With a few long strides, she stood at your side, glaring up at the man without a hint of fear in her eyes. 
He scoffed and looked from her to you. 
“Man, fuck this.” He muttered before turning to walk away. You let out a deep sigh and slowly looked up at the girl. 
Now that she was in front of you, you could fully take in her features. Her short, auburn hair was in a messy mullet style, one that complimented her strong jawline. Her cheeks were speckled with an array of freckles and her face was decorated with a few faded scars; one that split one of her eyebrows, one on her cheekbone, and one on her upper lip. She intrigued you. Your attraction to her was hard to describe, she was different than your usual type, and your meeting was slightly embarrassing, but the way her eyes transfixed on you made you wonder about her. 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t mean to interfere. He was just being an asshole, and I thought he might try to do something to you.” She muttered, sliding her hands into the pockets of her washed-out jeans. The corner of your mouth twitched upward into an almost smile. 
“I appreciate it,” You stuck out a hand and introduced yourself. 
“Ellie Williams,” She shook your hand and smiled. “I was going to head inside and get myself a drink if you’re interested in joining. I’d love to buy you a drink if you’d let me.” Ellie looked at you with a sly, confident smirk that made your stomach flip. 
You laughed softly and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Ellie.” She bites her bottom lip and opens the door for you before following you inside the club. With Ellie trailing behind you, you approach the bar and push past the people standing around to flag down a bartender. 
Ellie looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell her what you wanted to drink. “Just a dirty Martini, thanks.” You chuckled softly as she nodded. Waving to a bartender, Ellie ordered for you and a simple Rum & Coke for herself. 
You snuck a glance at her hands as she took the drinks from the bartender. Her fingers were long and slender, decorated in an array of silver rings. Your eyes trailed upward from her hands to her forearms. Her arms were toned with muscles, her right forearm marked with a dark tattoo that sprawled from her wrist to her elbow. Despite her sleeves being pushed up to her elbows, you could see a few dark lines poking out from underneath, presumably other tattoos that were covered up unintentionally.
Ellie passed you your drink and cleared her throat. “I’m going to sound so cliche, but what brings you here?” She kept her gaze trained on your face as she took a sip from her glass. 
“It’s my friend’s bachelorette! She’s over there–” You pointed to the dance floor, quickly directing Ellie to Dina, who was wearing a white pantsuit and an obnoxiously bejeweled white veil that you had bought her from Party City the day before. “Everyone’s very drunk, but I haven’t had nearly as much to drink as they have.” You laughed as you watched Dina jump into the arms of another friend of yours. 
Your gaze soon returned to Ellie, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you caught her staring at you. “And what about you? Do you always sulk around clubs and save girls from seedy guys?” Ellie let out a choked laugh at your words, setting her drink down on the countertop. 
Ellie leaned in close, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she said, “Just the pretty ones.” 
You giggled and tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach that her touch had caused. “My knight in shining armor,” The words left you sarcastically. 
The feeling flowing throughout your body slightly confused you; it had been a while since you had successfully hit it off with another woman, let alone one that made you weak in the knees with her gaze alone. 
“In all seriousness though…I sell weed here on occasion. Just happened to be smoking outside when I saw you.” She looked down at the floor briefly, tapping her fingers along the rim of her glass. 
You looked up at her as you bit your lip. “I’m glad you were there, Ellie.” You touch her arm gently as you speak. She smiled softly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest tint of a blush on her cheeks, but then again, the flashing lights made it hard to see. 
As the song playing transitioned into a familiar beat, your eyes widened, and you looked up at Ellie excitedly. “Oh my god! This is one of my favorite songs!” You exclaimed, voice rising so she could hear you. “Ellie, come dance with me!” You proposed with a wide grin, not leaving her with much of an option as you were already tugging her toward the swarm of people on the dance floor. 
Despite her cool exterior, the second you pulled Ellie into the crowd, she was laughing and singing beside you. Still, she was a bit awkward when it came to the dancing, but it’s not like anybody was paying any attention to you two. 
Without saying a word, you grabbed Ellie’s hands and moved them to rest on your hips, spinning around to turn your back to her. Ellie let out a shaky breath, confident you wouldn’t hear it over all the noise. You were pushed up against her, swaying your hips in accordance with the song, gently grinding against Ellie’s hips with every movement. 
It didn’t take long for Ellie to catch onto what you were thinking, her grip on your hips tightening. She gently pressed her lips against your earlobe, her hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin. You leaned your head back against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as her lips slowly traveled from your earlobe to your exposed neck. 
It was difficult to tell if the giddiness you were experiencing was caused by the drinks you’d had or if it was Ellie’s touch alone that had your body burning with desire. Either way, you found yourself desperate to feel her body against yours. 
Settling a hand on top of Ellie’s, you craned your head to the side to face her. With your free hand, you gently held the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Ellie was quick to return the kiss, her slightly chapped lips moving hungrily against yours. She groaned softly as she tasted your sweet lip gloss on her mouth. 
You turned to face her, breathing heavily. “I need you,” The words left you in a needy whisper, but even when the blaring music drowned out your plead, Ellie saw the movement of your pretty lips and knew exactly what you were saying. Three words, three syllables, ‘I need you.’ 
The two of you hurried over to the nearest women’s bathroom, kissing one another needily the minute the door closed behind you. You pulled Ellie into one of the stalls, locking the door with a shaky hand as she pressed your body against it. 
Ellie was anything but shy when it came to touching you. Her hands roamed your body presumptuously, her hands wandering from your hips to your chest all while she kissed you passionately. 
While kissing you, Ellie bit your bottom lip playfully, quickly running her tongue along your lip afterward. As your tongues intertwined and slid against one another, Ellie nudged her leg in between yours, gently rubbing her thigh against your clothed pussy. You let out a muffled moan against her lips as you rubbed your cunt against her leg. 
“Fuck…” She groaned, watching you grind against her helplessly. Ellie could see you were overcome with lust, and so was she. Gently, Ellie tugged down your sequined top, allowing your breasts to spill out for her to see. She kissed along your jaw, her kisses quickly turning from innocent pecks to hungry suckling, leaving purplish-red hickeys in her trail. As her lips traveled across your jawline and neck, those long, slim fingers of hers started to toy with your hardened nipples. Quiet gasps and moans fell from your glossy lips as she pinched and rolled your buds in between her calloused fingers. 
“Ellie…” You whined as you moved your hips against her thigh, desperate for some sort of release. 
She chuckled and pulled away from your neck to look down at you. “So needy…” Ellie mumbled. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down just far enough to reveal the strap-on toy she was wearing. It was purple and obscenely large, with a few thick veins detailing the sides of the dildo. You stared down at the toy in surprise, looking back up at Ellie with wide eyes. “Do you always wear that around?” You murmured, glancing down at the strap again. 
“Just when I’m trying to get laid,” Ellie remarked, laughing quietly as she kissed your cheek. You giggled and brought your lips to hers.
“Ellie, there’s no way that thing will fit inside me.” You whispered against her lips as you felt her hands gently moving your skirt up your hips. “I’ll be careful and go slow…don’t worry,” She reassured you. “And if you really want me to stop, just tell me, and I will.” 
You nodded and let her pull the sequined skirt above your hips, revealing the simple black panties you wore underneath. You heard her breath hitch at the sight, and you felt your face grow hot as she glanced from your clothed cunt to your face. Without much of a warning, Ellie placed her hands under your thighs and gently picked you up, pinning you against the stall door and holding you up. 
Gently, Ellie rubbed her middle finger up and down your panties, groaning softly when she felt the wet spot your slick had created. “So fucking wet…” She commented quietly, as she pushed your sheer panties to the side and revealed your pussy. Ellie circled your clit slowly with her thumb, using every bit of self-control to stop herself from whoring you out on her strap right then and there. 
“Please, Ellie,” You moaned and clutched her shoulders tightly. Ellie inhaled sharply and nodded. She carefully slid a finger inside your aching slit, biting her lip as she watched her finger disappear inside of you. You hugged her, burying your face into her neck as your breathy moans and gasps filled her ears.  Soon, Ellie added a second finger as she whispered sweet praise to you. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl…” She said with her lips pressed against your ear. “Jus’ gotta get you ready for my cock,” Her teeth sunk into your earlobe just enough to get you to whimper loudly.  “I’m ready, please– I need it,” You begged her, eyes glossy with tears of sexual frustration. Surely part of your neediness was because of the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny that everything about Ellie made you feel excited. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so desperate to hook up with someone, let alone in the bathroom of a busy club. 
Ellie chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. “Okay, but tell me if you want to stop, alright?” You whined softly as she pulled her fingers out and gently rubbed the strap along your dripping entrance. Slowly, she pushed the tip past your slick folds and into your cunt, earning a deep moan from your lips. 
“Oh my god, Ellie,” You squeezed your eyes shut while she continued to push further inside you. “It’s so big…” You cried. 
“I know, but you can take it, pretty girl…I know you can…” Ellie cooed, her fingers digging into the exposed skin of your thighs. 
The slow pace she was moving at was practically torturous, but when she finally slid the full length of the strap into you, you knew the wait had been worth it. Ellie began to thrust into you, cautiously at first, as if she was scared to hurt you, but when she saw how much of a mess you were already, she couldn’t help but pound into you relentlessly. 
It took every ounce of your strength to refrain from screaming and moaning her name; the two of you were fucking in a public space after all. So, with a hand covering your mouth, you let out choked, muffled moans with every jerk of Ellie’s hips. It didn’t take long for Ellie to find that spot deep inside of you that almost made you scream when she hit it with the tip of her strap. 
Your eyes were watering and glossy, hot tears threatening to spill down your face. A small smile spread across your face as you felt your walls tightening and your orgasm building up inside of you. It appeared that Ellie could see how close you were as her pace sped up and fucked into you without remorse. 
You opened your mouth to tell her how good it felt when you both heard the bathroom door slam open and bang against the wall. Ellie froze, eyes wide as the two of you listened to a group of girls file into the bathroom. They talked loudly, shrill laughter echoing throughout the room as they conversed. After a few moments, most of the group had left, but you could still hear a couple of girls talking. 
“God, this fucking pantsuit is so itchy…” Your eyes widened as you realized one of the girls talking was Dina. 
“At least you’re not wearing a miniskirt! This thing keeps riding up,” Another one of your friends responded. Ellie looked down at you, slightly confused as to why you seemed so shocked.
“Those are my friends!” You whispered to Ellie. Her eyebrows raised slightly before a mischievous grin began to form on her face. 
“Hey, have any of you seen y/n?” Dina asked. 
“Not since she stepped out for air– maybe we should look for her.” Ellie bit her lip and slowly thrust her hips upward, causing your eyes to roll back and a wrangled gasp to escape you. 
“Y/n, you in here?” One of the girls called out. Ellie looked down at you, her eyes dark and full of lust. She shook her head, silently telling you to keep quiet. Ellie placed a hand over your mouth and paused for a moment to readjust herself before thrusting into you once again. She plunged into you rigorously, smirking as hot tears began to fall down your cheeks. 
“Guess not. Let’s go see if she’s outside,” Dina suggested. In just a minute, the girls had filed out of the bathroom, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. 
“Almost got us caught, couldn’t keep quiet, could you? Huh?” Ellie mumbled once the door slammed shut. 
“F-Feels so good,” You sobbed as your walls clenched tightly around the strap. Ellie pulled your body as close to hers as she could and kissed you. It was a messy kiss, saliva trickling from your lips as you pulled away to cry out something incoherent. Ellie groaned softly as she felt the base of the strap grind against her puffy clit with every deep thrust inside of you. 
Ellie felt like she was going insane as she watched you take her strap. Your makeup was smudged and running down your face with your tears, your breasts bounced with every move of Ellie’s hips, and your lips were shiny with drool. You looked so fucked out, so pretty, and you hadn’t even cum yet. The scene in front of Ellie was pornographic, and she couldn’t get enough of it. The way you cried her name every time she hit that spot deep inside you made her want to make you hers right then and there, but she knew better than to ruin the mood with her nonsense. Better to save it for later after taking you on a date, something romantic like that. 
“God, you should see yourself right now, lookin’ so pretty while you take my cock…” Ellie moaned softly before she nuzzled her face in your neck. 
“Ellie- I’m gonna cum!” You gasped as your legs began to shake. Her fingers moved against your clit quickly while she continued to thrust at the same relentless pace. 
“Oh yeah? Gonna cum all over my fucking strap?” She muttered teasingly. You let out a choked sob and nodded. Ellie grinned and kissed your neck softly. “I know you are, pretty girl.” She breathed heavily against your sensitive skin. Based on the sounds she was making as her hips stuttered, you guessed she was on the brink of an orgasm. You were proud to see it– you wanted to see her cum just as badly.
Quickly after Ellie spoke, you felt the tension in your stomach unravel. Your orgasm came over you like a tsunami, your vision going white with pleasure. Ellie’s thrusts turned sloppy as she too began to climax, small moans and whimpers escaping her. The base of the strap was rubbing against her clit so perfectly that it was hard for her to focus on anything else. Pleasure coursed through every part of your body as you cried out and spasmed in Ellie’s arms, her incoherent mumbles of praise reassuring you.
Slowly, you both regained your composure after your orgasms had fizzled out. Ellie gently pulled the strap out and helped you stand, resting a hand on your lower back as she did so. You adjusted your panties and skirt before tugging your top back up. Ellie’s hands traced the hem of your skirt as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss. 
“For what it’s worth, I think that skirt looks stunning on you.” She whispered, a dazed smile on her face. You giggled and snaked your arms around her waist. 
“Not too slutty?” Ellie shook her head and gently wiped your runny makeup off your cheeks. 
“Not at all– I think it’s very tasteful.” She kissed you, her hand gently squeezing your hip. 
“I like you, Williams.” You murmured as her lips left yours. She chuckled softly and looked down at you.
“Well, I like you too.” Ellie ran a calloused thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I take you out on a date? I’ll make it worth your while…” You giggled and nodded. She kissed your cheek and jaw a few times, her lips curling into a giddy smile. 
“I’d like that,” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the stupidly large grin on your face. Taking her hand and intertwining your fingers, you stood on the tips of your toes and gave her a long, caring kiss. “Why don’t we get out of this bathroom? My friends are looking for me, and I don’t want to worry them too much.” 
Ellie nodded and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Let’s go. I’m dying to dance with you again anyways.” Her voice teasing but still genuine. 
You reunited with Dina at the bar, Ellie trailing close behind you. Dina glanced at Ellie and back at you with a curious expression. 
“Ellie, would you give us a minute?” You asked her sweetly. She nodded and walked away, muttering something about grabbing some water.  “Who is that?” Dina asked, watching intensely as Ellie walked away. 
“It’s a long story–” Dina’s sharp laugh interrupted you. 
“You fucked her, didn’t you! You dirty dog!” She gasped dramatically, and you both broke out into laughter. 
“How can you tell?”
“You have hickeys all over you, and your makeup is smudged– I’d be stupid if I didn’t notice,” Dina stated and crossed her arms over her chest. 
You giggled and shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” Dina grinned and nodded. 
“Well, go and get her! She can come party with us!” Dina exclaimed and waved Ellie over. Ellie was quick to join you two, her arm sliding around your waist as she stood beside you. 
“Dance with me?” You asked as you looked up to meet her gaze.
“Always,” She chuckled. 
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
a/n: this was literally supposed to be a quick lil drabble but here i am with 4k words...im proud of this tho <33
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dizscreams · 1 year
Note
ETHAN WALKING IN ON YOU CHANGING FIC !!!
LETS DO IT!!! I’m not sure if you wanted this suggestive or fluff so there’s bothhh!
Accident — Ethan Landry ★
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PAIRING: Ethan x fem!reader
A/N: we loveee dizzy being in her active era!!
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All Ethan was trying to do was give you back the notebook you left in his dorm when you had come over to study the other day. He didn’t know you’d be half naked when he walked in. And plus he knocked! Twice! He’s never been so embarrassed, well he has, but this felt so much worse for some reason. Maybe cause he’s liked you for so long now and he’s dreamed of seeing you like that, but on other circumstances. Circumstances where it was intentional.
“Chad, I can’t face her. This is so bad, oh my god,” Ethan’s worried voice was muffled by his hands covering his face. His roommate wasn’t doing anything to help him either, he was just laughing in his face. “Dude! It’ll be fine, don’t stress it,” Chad said while slapping Ethan’s back. Ethan shot him a glare and continued to pace the living room of the apartment you shared with Sam, Tara, and Quinn. Anika was actually trying to help him, Mindy was making fun of him just like her twin was, and Tara was trying her best to help and not laugh at the same time.
There was no way he’d be able to look you in the eyes again. What did you think of him now?? Did you think he was creepy?? A perv?? Would you yell at him when you walked back in?? Tara put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder trying to calm him down, “I’m sure it’s fine, Eth-” Ethan shook his head, “Its not! It’s so embarrassing you don’t understand- I like her a lot and I was planning to ask her out soon but there’s no chance she’d ever say yes now. Oh my god, I can’t imagine what she thinks of me right now,” he rambled while he flopped on the couch.
Ethan’s hands were on his face again and he noticed how everyone went silent. He slowly lowered his hands and looked at everyone, but they were focused on something else. He slowly followed their gazes to see you standing right there. Oh no. Did you hear that? How does everything keep getting worse?Ethan’s face turned bright red and he didn’t know what to do or what to say. After a moment of silence and way too much eye contact he spoke up, “Did you hear that?” He wanted to wince at how small and weak his voice sounded.
“Hear what?” You asked with an innocent tone and a head tilt. But you definitely knew and he knew you knew. I mean you had to. He could read you like a book. There was a mischievous glint in your eyes and a ghost of a smirk on your pretty lips, the lips he wanted to kiss so bad. After another pause of silence Chad decided to put on a movie so everyone could calm down and have a chill little movie night. Ethan was extremely thankful his roommate had a good idea for once, hoping this would take his mind off of everything that just happened.
He was talking with Anika and was starting to relax until you called for him, “Hey Eth, you wanna help me get the popcorn started?” He froze. Why? He wasn’t sure. This was normal and you didn’t seem to be upset at him or anything. This was fine, everything would be fine. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbled as he stood up. He made his way over to you in the kitchen and you smiled at him. He did his best to smile back and watched you get the popcorn bag and put it in the microwave. He looked at what you were wearing, little pajama shorts and a T-Shirt. Then he remembered what you were wearing when he walked in on you, nothing but your underwear.
He’d be lying if he said thinking about you wasn’t making him flush pink and a little hard. “Ethan?” His head snapped to look at your eyes, not realizing he had been staring at your ass the whole time. “I asked if you would get two bowls out for me? Mindy and Anika want to share and Chad and Tara are sharing. I guess you could get three if you want to share with me.” He barely registered what you had said but got three bowls out quickly, wanting to drown out the dirty thoughts he had begun to think about.
It was then he realized he hadn’t apologized for barging in your room just under 10 minutes ago. He placed the bowls on the counter and glanced at you, but you were already looking at him. He cleared his throat, “Um I’m sorry- y’know about earlier. I didn’t mean to walk in on you, I mean obviously. It was an accident, I promise,” he said quickly. You giggled at the flustered boy and he tried his best to avoid your gaze, but he couldn’t. He looked at you and the look on your face and he smiled, the blush on his cheeks not leaving.
“It’s okay, Eth. I didn’t mind,” you told him with a slight smirk. His eyebrows raised slightly and you chuckled. You leaned in and his breath hitched, he didn’t know where this was going. Your hand snaked up his chest and all the way up to cup his face. You admired him for a second before you inched closer to him, making sure nobody else would hear you, “I was kind of sad you didn’t stay,” you said quietly. He didn’t understand. “What?” He asked matching your volume.
“Well all day I’ve been thinking about you.” Your hand was now touching his biceps. “I was hoping when you walked in you would’ve stayed and helped me out, been so needy for you all day,” you confessed while looking at him with big eyes. He thought he was gonna pass out. His cock was definitely hard now, now that he knew you thought of him like he thought of you. And you wanted him, you needed him, just like how he wanted and needed you. “Fuck,” he muttered. You were so close to him and all he wanted was to fuck you against the counter or kiss you, or touch you. Just something. But there were people around.
He couldn’t give a fuck less about a movie right now or that he heard Chad asking what the fuck was taking so long, all he cared about was you. You were intoxicating. “Can we go to my dorm?” He asked you suddenly, the tension getting too much for him. Ethan searched your eyes for any signs of disgust or discomfort, but he didn’t find anything like that. Your eyes were full of lust and want, and it was for him, all for him. “Yes please,” you grabbed his hand and left the kitchen. “We’re going, don’t wait up!” You rushed out the door with Ethan stumbling behind you, a dumb smile on his face.
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LMAO it turned to me wanting it to be fluffy into smth suggestive im sorry 😔 fluffy fics comin soon I sweaaarrrr and I’m tired af so this is lazy I apologize but hope you enjoy regardless!
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 9 months
Text
meeting him at the pub
(cw: age gap)
I don’t know how it happened, how I ended up chatting to the tall metalhead at the pub. But I was meeting my friends there like every other Wednesday and when I got drinks from the bar, a dark, friendly voice piped up. “Hey, nice shirt.” My head whips to the side, looking for the person who gave me the compliment.
Right there at the table, sitting alone, a huge, tall guy with long dark hair. Tattoos adorned the big strong arms distracting from his bandshirt, I think it’s from Dark Tranquility. The drawings span to his hands ending at the knuckles, that moved as he grabbed the bottle of beer standing right in front of him.
My eyes close in on his face, a ruggedly handsome one. A nose that seems to have been broken at least twice. Lips formed into a friendly smile. Serious eyes looking straight at me, eyes that had seen some shit, but the laugh lines around them speak of a man who rather likes to laugh. He also looks a bit older than me.
I almost stumble over my own feet, halting for a moment to look which shirt I’m wearing today. It’s my Death shirt, the one with the Symbolic Album art. I look back up at him, smiling. “Thanks!” I continue my trip to the bar, a pep in my step.
When I walk back with the drinks in my hand, I shoot another friendly look in his direction. One that he answers with a nod and tipping his beer in my direction. And I totally blush at the little friendly gesture. I sit down with my friends handing them their beers, but I can’t help my eyes finding their way back to him every so often, to see what he’s doing.
He’s just chilling alone, at his table, drinking his beer, looking at the TV where some kind of soccer game was being shown, playing with his phone from time to time. It is so fucking tiny in his huge ass hands. And half the time I look in his direction, his gaze is already on me. Which is making me nervous. Not because it’s creepy or anything in that sense, but because he’s attractive. Oh my, ruggedly handsome, seeming like a gentle giant, while the way he’s sitting and observing everything around him is telling a different story.
“Just go fucking talk to him.” My friend sitting to my right grins at me. I shrug. “I don’t know.” They roll their eyes. “Just do it, you little chickenshit.” I throw up my hands. “Fine, fine, okay.” I snatch up my beer and hesitatingly make my way to his table.
He’s already looking at me, sitting up straight, as I approach him and ask with a shy smile on my face: “Can I sit here?” I point at the stool across from him. He seems a bit surprised, but he nods. “Sure, take a seat.”
I sit down and then a moment of silence falls over us where we just look at each other. The corner of his mouth is tilted up, a half-smirk making his face even more handsome, a few strands of hair falling over his left eye and cheek. He seems a little bit tense and I suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. We just look at each other. And I can’t stop looking at him.
“So, you like Death too, huh?”, I ask him, and then I hear how that sounded. “The band, I mean.”, I clarify laughing. He joins in, a dark manly chuckle falling from his lips, and I can see his shoulders drop down a bit. Seeming a little more relaxed.
“I do.”, he answers. “Actually, one of my favourite bands.” His voice is a bit higher than I would have anticipated from such a big guy, he has a nice timbre and some kind of accent when speaking English, that he’s trying to mask.
“Understandably so.”, I say, going on a rant about my favourite bands. He just looks at me, stunlocked. His mouth slightly open. His eyes scanning my face, dropping down every so often. I don’t stop talking and he listens, nodding along.
“I also like Lorna Shore a lot, do you know them?”, I want to know. He shakes his head, still intently listening while only speaking every so often. “They’re a symphonic deathcore band, and my god, their music just blows you away.” He chuckles again. “And they’re in town next week, but I don’t have anybody to go to the concert with me.”, I say, turning down the corners of my mouth.
“I could accompany you.”, he chimes in which shuts me up. A friendly offer. But the way he’s looking at me is making it feel like so much more.
“Really? You would do that?”, I ask surprised.
He shrugs one of his shoulders, looking to his fingers that fiddle with the label on the beer bottle. “Yeah sure, I can be your company for that evening.”
I close my mouth and think about it for a moment. “Of course, that would be… very nice of you.” Great, I’m so eloquent when it comes to flirting with men. Especially older, tall metalheads. But the way he’s still fidgeting with the beer bottle, I think he’s having a hard time as well. Which makes his offer so much more surprising. But I’m not mad at it. Not at fucking all.
I clear my throat. “Maybe I can get the tickets and you can get the drinks?”, I suggest. I wouldn’t want this to seem like I wanted to mooch off him.
He hesitates for a bit, but then nods. “Sure.” I nod as well and drink some of my beer. So that’s that, huh?
“So, what do you do? For a living?”, I ask him. He halts for a second, and I add: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.” I tilt my head and push my cheek into my propped-up hand.
A smile forms on his lips, as he looks to the side for just a moment, but his eyes find their way back to me. “You’re a nosy one, huh?” which makes me hide my face in my hands looking at him through my splayed fingers, but he only laughs at my gesture.
“I’m actually a soldier, a mercenary. I’m currently on leave.”, he explains. My eyes widen at his words.
“Really? Damn okay.” That explains the aura around him that I couldn't pinpoint before. “So like, what’s your specialty or however this is called in the military?”, I ask, still being nosy.
His lips curl into a confident smile, his whole demeanor changing a bit. “I’m an insertion specialist.” And the way he says that makes my skin tingle, my jaw dropping down a bit. Because the tone in his voice makes me think about a certain kind of insertion. The ‘drop your clothes, get naked together’-kind.
He laughs again as he sees the expression on my face. “Get your mind out the gutter.”, he jokes.
“Huh, I didn’t say anything.”, I defend myself, weakly, holding up my hands in defense. He pulls up his eyebrows, donning a knowing smile and leaning back.
“M-hm.”, he says and his fingers wander to his lips, stroking over them absent-mindedly. “I specialize in breaking down doors and getting people out of whatever situation they’re caught in.” How he says it makes me smile, because he says it so non-chalantly, but I can see the pride behind his words.
A little silence falls over us again, but instead of being uncomfortable we just sit in it and look at each other. He drags his hand through his hair, his fingers threading through the brown strands. And I’m so normal about this. My god, why does he have to be so attractive?
“How old are you?”, he asks me, his eyes searching my face like I’d have it written on there. The first question he asked me this evening.
“I’m 25. And you?”, I return the question. He winces a bit, but he answers: “I’m 41.” I nod and sip on my beer. Well, I already assumed that he’s older than me, so I’m not really surprised by the age gap.
“I’m old enough to be your dad.”, he says and takes a sip from his beer. My eyes are glued to his lips, the way the bottle rests against them. Then he swallows and I follow the motion as the liquid flows down his throat.
I arch a brow. “No, you’re not.”
He tilts his head to his side, a little smile forming on his lips. “Well, maybe if I started early, I could be.” His eyes dart to me, for just a moment.
The other brow joins the one already sitting at my hairline. “Did you start early?”, I ask him.
His smile gets wider while he slowly shakes his head. “No.” He takes another sip and leans back a bit.
“So, not actually old enough to be my dad.”, I conclude the conversation, a grin turning up the corners of my mouth. “I’m gonna get another drink, you want one as well?”
He looks at me, his eyes boring into me. I see the little twinkle in them, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I got to get home.”, he finally says, the expression on his face turning apologetic.
I hide my disappointment behind a charming smile. “Okay, no worries.”, I tell him.
He leans forward, coming a little bit closer, and I stand my ground, even as his scent hits my nostrils, and I have to damp down the excitement flooding my veins. He’s smirking at me now and raises his hand until his finger makes contact with my nose. He just booped my nose. “Tell you what though. Let’s exchange numbers and then we’ll see if you’re still up to going to a concert with me when you’re sober.”
I laugh a bit and pull out my phone from my pocket. “Okay, deal.” But his words also make me think. “Don’t you trust my judgement?”, I ask him as I hand him the device which looks ridiculously small in his hands.
He grins while tapping on the screen. “I do, but I don’t trust myself when I stare into the face of a beautiful woman.” He looks at me again and hands me back the phone, getting up. And he gets taller and taller and taller. I mean, I saw that he’s freaking huge when he was sitting down. But my god, he’s more than a foot taller than me. I have to put my head back to be able to look up at him.
“A beautiful woman, huh?”, I repeat his words back to him, ignoring the way this sentiment makes me feel.
“Aye.”, he says leaning down a bit. “Good night then.” He presses a small, almost chaste kiss onto the top of my head, while at the same time grabbing his leatherjacket. He puts the worn piece of clothing on and heads in the direction of the door.
I look down and see the new contact in my phone. His number, but instead of his name the little crown emoji sits on the top of the page. “Wait, what’s your name?”, I yell after him.
He turns around again, the long hair whipping over his shoulder, grazing over the worn leather. A grin lights up his face. “König, you know, like ‘king’ in German.”, he explains. He raises his hand again and waves goodbye, then he’s out the door.
He’s gone, but he’s still on my mind the rest of the evening while spending time at the pub, on my way home, as I’m getting ready to finally sleep. Especially the little forehead kiss lives in my mind rent-free.
When I wake up again in the morning, I contemplate what to do while I get myself a coffee. Finally, I gather my courage and shoot him a text.
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metalhead!König has me in a chokehold, so this was veeeery self-indulgent. i hope you still like it <3more to come soon, because i can't wait to go to a concert with him :')
part 2 or more stuff in the Masterlist
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athenamikaelson · 2 months
Text
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Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 9
Word Count- 5.5k
Warnings- Swearing, reader going through A LOT, slight self harm, violence
In and out. In and out. In and out. Oh god, why isn’t this working?!
“Y/n, just take a deep breath,” Elena says from her seated position on the dirt-covered ground of the Salvatore’s creepy ass dungeon. 
“Oh, thank you, Oh Wise One for that great advice,” I sarcastically shoot back to her as I continue my pacing. Back and forth, back and forth.
“Why are you so nervous? I thought you liked Elijah?”
Her question has me rubbing my hands over my face in exhaustion as I try not to roll my eyes at my best friend. When she called me asking to hang out this morning I thought “Oh cool girl time!” What I didn’t expect was us resurrecting a one-thousand-year-old vampire. But now that I’m thinking about it, that’s on me. When it comes to Elena it’s highly unlikely that her days don’t include something that is going to get either one of us maimed or murdered.
“It’s not Elijah I’m worried about,” That’s a slight lie. Ever since Elena told me she’s going to wake him up I’ve felt nauseous, “I’m worried about the two vampire brothers that are obsessed with you and are totally going to murder me when they find out I went along for this stupid ride!”
Elena shoots me an Are you serious look, “They’re not going to murder you.”
I shoot her back the same look, “Oh so you’re telling me that Damon Salvatore is going to be oh so okay with this little plan of yours? Is that why you haven’t told him?”
At that question, Elena sighs. She opens her mouth to reply but a sharp inhale from behind me has me jumping in surprise, and Elena quickly rises from her seated position. 
I turn around to see Elijah gasping for breath, his skin still grey and veiny and the suit he’s wearing has definitely seen better days. Elena kneels down next to him and I walk behind her as Elijah looks at Elena like he doesn’t know who she is. 
“Katerina,” Elijah leans on his elbows and then he must’ve noticed my presence as he glances up at me. His already wide eyes somehow open more, “You!”
I flinch back at the familiarity in his eyes as he searches my entire frame frantically. 
“No Elijah, it’s Elena,” Elena gestures to herself and then to me, “and Y/n.”
This knocks Elijah out of whatever stupor he was in as he leans his head back onto the dirty ground and seems to fall unconscious. Elena glances at me over her shoulder and I just shrug my shoulders, not really knowing what to do in this situation. I watch wearily as she leans down closer and flinches backward as Elijah abruptly rolls to his side yelling. I fight the urge to gag as I hear his bone cracking as he roughly stands himself up. 
“I can’t, I can’t breathe,” Elijah says distressed and then he falls back towards the ground huffing, “What’s happening to me?”
Elena and I just watch speechless and in the blink of an eye Elijah flashes forward but ends up knocking into the wall. If this was any other situation I’d probably be laughing my ass off. I watch as Elena jumps up and helps him stand I come up behind them and hold onto Elijah’s other elbow to stabilize him.
“I can’t…I can’t be in this house.”
I frown as Elena realizes what’s happening, “You’re not invited in.”
“Then get me out of here.”
Elijah thrusts himself out of our grips and flashes upstairs hastily. I run behind Elena and stop as we come to the front door where Elijah is hunched over. We walk over to him but Elena puts out a hand to stop me from going any further. This seems to worsen Elijah’s already angry mood as his eyes darken at my friend. He flashes forward but the invisible supernatural barrier stops him.
“What happened,” Elijah speaks but Elena shushes him. Elena may have the survival instincts of a toddler, but damn the girl is ballsy. 
She gestures to her ear to let him know that we could be heard, “I’ll tell you. Not here. Can we trust you?”
Elena’s question has Elijah raising a brow and then glancing at me momentarily before turning back towards her, “Can I trust you?”
Elena nods before handing over the silver dagger to Elijah, who slowly takes it.
I should really stop answering Elena’s phone calls. 
Ten minutes later, the three of us are driving to the Mayor’s house. Elena is driving while Elijah is in the passenger seat drinking from a blood bag. I have been fighting the urge yet again to gag ever since Elena pulled out the first one for him. But, the blood seems to be doing him good since his veiny skin has almost returned to its once-normal color. I am currently watching the two from my position in the backseat of Elena’s car. The entire car ride has been filled with tension as Elijah glares at Elena and the ladder only sends him sheepish looks in return. Elijah has not once turned to glance at me like he would before he was daggered. Before I was annoyed with his staring but I think I’m now more annoyed by him not staring. God, I need to get a grip.
Elena pulls over puts the car in park and turns to Elijah, “You look better.”
“Where did you get the dagger?”
“I’ll tell you everything. But we have to work together, Elijah. I need your word.”
“Your ability to make demands has long passed.”
Elena nods, “No demands. I’m offering you my help. And in return I want yours.”
“And why should I even consider this?”
“The same reason you haven’t killed me. You need my help to kill Klaus. And I need you.” 
Their conversation is interrupted by Elena’s phone ringing. Uh oh. Elena answers the phone but I’m unable to hear who’s on the other end. But from Elena’s voice, I’m going to assume it’s Stefan. 
“Yes, I’m fine…. He’s right here... No Stefan, Elijah, Y/n and I need some time alone… Yes, Y/n is here aswell.”
At this, I lean forward towards Elena’s phone, “Hey Stefan!”
Elena looks at me, “He says Hi.”
I smile to myself and lean back in my seat.
Elena looks over at Elijah, who I now realize can hear everything Stefan is saying so I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on. Typical. 
“Elijah is a noble man, Stefan. He lives by a code of honor. I can trust him. He knows that I’d be incredibly stupid to betray him again. By removing the dagger, I have proven myself… It’s my decision, Stefan. Please respect it. And make sure that Damon doesn’t do anything stupid.”
I snort at that because I just know Damon is indeed going to do something stupid. 
“I’ll be in touch,” And with that, she ends the call. 
Elena and Elijah stare at each other for a moment before he places out his palm for her phone. She sighs as she gives it to him and I almost laugh until Elijah’s hand comes towards me. 
“Seriously,” I groan but am not met with a response. Asshole. I feel like a child getting her toys taken away as I toss my phone into Elijah’s palm. Elijah puts the phones in his suit. I wonder how many pockets he’s got in that thing?
“He’s here,” Elena’s words have me sitting up in my seat.
“Klaus is here?”
“He’s taken over Alaric’s body.”
“Of course he has. It’s one of his favorite tricks.”
“He’s quite the people person,” I say sarcastically under my breath, but Elijah must’ve heard it as he whips around in his seat and his eyes widen as he looks at me.
“You met him,” His tone has a tinge of worry and I just nod slightly. 
“Well ya, he taught my history class, not very well might I add, and I think I called him an asshole at one point. I don’t understand how you were able to spend years with him. One afternoon with him and I’m already planning his demise.”
“Did he hurt you?”
My eyebrows furrow and I shake my head, “Other than my ears. No. He said I wasn’t on his hit list. Do I remember that right Lena?”
Elena nods from her seat. 
Elijah stares at me before his eyes trail to my right thigh for a split moment. I frown at him before he turns back in his seat. 
“What are his other tricks? What is he gonna do next? You’re the only one who knows him,” Elena asks Elijah.
“Yes, I do.”
“Great, this lady,” I say under my breath as Ms. Lockwood opens her front door for us. Elijah sends her a warm smile that is quite clearly fake. 
“Elijah, Elena, what are you doing here? What happened,” Shes asks and I fight the urge to tell her I’m here too. 
“I’ve had a bit of an incident, Carol. I’m hoping you could help.”
“Well, I’m on my way to a meeting, so I-”
Elijah steps forward, “We won’t take but a minute of your time.”
After a moment Carol’s face brightens, “Of course. Anything you need.”
He thanks her as we walk through the threshold of the house. 
“Well, first things first. I’m going to need a change of clothing.”
“Well, we can try one of my husband’s suits. I haven’t boxed them up yet.”
“Wonderful.”
Ms. Lockwood walks away and Elena turns to Elijah, “How did you know she’s not on vervain? 
“Cause I’m the one who got her off it. Right before you and your friends killed me, twice. If you’ll excuse me. I’ll be done in a moment.”
Elijah walks off and Elena and I stare at each other, “Well this seems to be going well,” I say sarcastically and Elena rolls her eyes.
I hold the glass of water in my hands tentatively as I watch Elena watch Elijah who glances around the parlor we’re currently sitting in. I’m sitting next to Elena on a sofa while Elijah sits on a chair across from us. 
“So, I assume the Martin witches are no longer with us.”
“No,” Elena says softly, “I’m sorry.”
“And Katerina. She would’ve been released from my compulsion when I died.”
“Klaus took her. We think that she may be dead.”
Elijah smirks, “I doubt that. Not Klaus’ style,” To which I nod my head in agreement. If some crazy guy has been tracking her for over 500 years I doubt he’ll give her a quick death.
“Death would be too easy for her after what she did.”
“I don’t understand. You say that you want Klaus dead. But you still made Katherine pay for betraying him.”
“I have my own reasons for wanting Katerina to pay. There was a time... I’d done anything for Klaus.”
“Were you guys like dating or something,” I ask which has Elijah turning to me with a disgusted look. 
“No, we were not…” He pinches the bridge of his nose, “dating. Klaus is my brother.”
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. 
I sit here with my mouth hung open as Elena seems just in as much shock as I am, “I heard that. I’m still processing.”
“Yes, I’m a little behind on the times But I believe the term you’re searching for is O-M-G.”
Elijah just sips his tea as he watches both of us go through the stages of shock.
“Y/n sweetheart, close your mouth or you’re jaw will start hurting,” I slowly close my mouth at Elijah’s words and he watches me with a smirk. 
“There’s a whole family of Originals,” Elena asks Eljjah as he goes to stand by the unlit fireplace. I stare at the fireplace and go back into thought of the other night. Staring at the lit embers of the Salvatore’s fireplace and the red-hot rage I felt when I believed that Klaus had killed Bonnie. There’s been moments in my life where I’d felt angry or upset about things but never in my life had I felt that amount of anger. Just thinking back to it has me clenching my fists in my lap. I’m not an angry person. I’m not a bad person. So why could all I think about was making Klaus hurt?
“Y/n? Are you listening?”
I look over to see Elena looking at me wearily. I stare at her blankly and then look to Eijah who is already staring at me. He looks down at my clenched fists and his lips move downwards. 
“What were you saying,” I ask Elijah trying to sound nonchalant as I place my hands under my legs. 
Elijah stares at me for a moment almost unsure before he clears his throat, “My father was a wealthy land owner in a village in eastern Europe. Our mother bore seven children.”
Elena stands from her seat, “So your parents were human?”
Her question has me wanting to roll my eyes. What an idiotic question. I make myself uncomfortable with that thought though and how cruel and unlike me it was.
“Our whole family was. Our origin as vampires is a very long story, Elena. Just know…we’re the oldest vampires in the world. We are the Orignal family. And from us all, vampires were created.”
“Right, but Klaus is your brother. And you want him dead?”
“I need some air. I’m still feeling a tad… dead,” He walks past Elena and I towards the front door, “Come.”
I take a deep breath as I stand up and walk behind Elena and Elijah. Hoping a walk in the fresh air will clear my thoughts. But when I look down at one of my opened palms I freeze. Raising my hand I see four red fingernail cuts with slight specks of blood around them. My eyebrows furrow as I look at the wound. Did I just do this to myself?
“Y/N, are you coming,” I look to see Elena standing by the threshold waiting for me. I nod as I put my injured hand in the pocket of my sweatshirt and put that under “Problems for another day” slot.
“So as you’ve seen’ nothing can kill an Original. Not sun, not fire, not even a werewolf bite. Only the wood from one tree. A tree, my family made sure burned.”
“That’s where the white ash for the dagger comes from.”
“Yes. The witches won’t allow anything truly immortal to walk the earth. Every creature needs to have a weakness in order to maintain the balance,” Elijah responds as he leads us through the garden at the Mayor’s house. I trail behind him and Elena not feeling exactly ecstatic for yet another history lesson.
“So the sun can’t kill an Original. Why is Klaus so obsessed with breaking the sun and moon curse?”
Elijah smiles, “Right. The curse of the sun and the moon. It’s all so…Biblical-sounding don’t you think?”
Elijah looks at both of us oddly, “What’s so funny?”
I listen with eyebrows drawn together as Elijah tells us about the time years ago when Klaus drew the drawings for the curse.
“I don’t understand…Klaus drew the Aztec sketches about the curse?”
“Roman scrolls, African tribal etchings and any other culture or continent we felt like planting it in.”
Elena still seems confused, “But why?”
“Easiest way to discover the existence of a doppelganger or get your hands on some lost, lost moon stone is to have every single member of two warring species on the lookout.”
“So it’s not Aztec at all?”
From the smirk on Elijah’s face and the oddness of this all I’m going to take a wild guess here, “It’s a decoy isn’t it?”
Elijah seems happy with my connection and nods his head, “The curse of the sun and moon is fake. It doesn’t exist.”
We walk with Elijah some more before he starts talking again, “Klaus and I faked the sun and moon curse dating back over a thousand years.”
Elena shakes her head, “But if there’s no curse…”
Elijah cuts her off, “There’s a curse. Just not that one. The real one’s much worse. It’s a curse placed on Klaus.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Klaus has been trying to break it for over the last thousand years. And you were his only hope.”
“Well, what is this curse?’’
Elijah doesn’t answer as he reaches into his chest pocket and pulls out Elena’s ringing phone, “Your phone won’t stop its incessant buzzing. Answer it, please.”
Elena grabs the phone and answers the phone call from who I’m guessing is Stefan but her mood instantly changes to what I think is fear. I step closer to her trying to hear what Stefan’s saying but I can’t. 
“No…no,no,no…Okay I’ll be right there.”
“Elena what happened,” I ask her.
“Klaus went after Jenna. I have to go to her.”
“I’m afraid that wasn’t a part of the day’s arrangement.”
I get heavily annoyed at this, “Well obviously she didn’t plan for your brother to go after Jenna,” I turn to Elena, “You go I’ll stay here.”
Elena looks at me wearily and I know in any other situation she wouldn’t leave me alone but it’s Jenna we’re talking about here. 
“I’ll be back,” She turns to Elijah, “You have my word.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me until you live up to it.”
Elena thanks him and with one last look at me she runs back to her car. Elijah and I stand there silently as we watch Elena’s car roll out of the driveway and out of sight. The silence is anything but comfortable as I stand still watching the road. From my peripheral though I can see Elijah now staring at me.
“God, you need to decide if you want to ignore me or stare at me,” I grunt as I start walking back towards a white picnic table overlooking the pond. I can hear Elijah’s footsteps behind me.
“You’re upset with me,” He says matter-of-factly.
I place my ass down on the seat and Elijah sits himself on the other side of the table. He watches me and I just stare at him for a moment before huffing. Honestly, I am not mad at him and I’m not sure why I’m as agitated as I am.
“No, I’m not.”
Elijah quirks a brow, “My mistake,” He smirks slightly but it drops when he sees my blank stare.
“Let me see,” He reaches his hand across the table with his palm open.
“You already have my phone, remember.”
“Not your phone. Your hand. I could smell the blood on it the second you cut yourself. Now, let me see.”
“No,” I say defiantly.
“Y/n…I just want to see it,” I look back over to him and the small smile on his face has some of the agitation I’m feeling slip away. 
I bring my hand up and show it to him, “It’s not a big deal.”
Elijah takes my hand in his and he brushes his fingers over the small wounds. He has a deep frown on his face as he looks back up to me.
“Did I make you do this?”
I shake my head in confusion, “What? Why would you ask that?”
“When I was telling my family’s history I saw how you seemed to check out. Was it something I had said?”
I stare at him and his almost saddened face for a moment before clenching my eyes and taking a deep breath, “No, Elijah. It wasn’t something you said.”
“Then what was it,” At his continuous questioning a surge of annoyance builds within me again. 
“Jesus, why do you care,” My burst of emotions don’t seem to set him off and he just sends me a small smile. 
“When it comes to you I’ll always care.”
I take my hand from his but he doesn’t move his empty one from the table between us. As if waiting for me to place mine back in his. After a moment he reluctantly brings his hand back to his person. 
“Why,” I ask him.
“You know I can’t tell you that right now.”
His shrug off has my anger bursting again and I glare down at the table in front of me.
“How long has this been going on?”
I send him a look, “How long has what been going on?”
He looks at me like I’m a puzzle with a missing piece, “The bursts of emotions and anger you’ve been feeling. I can see it clearly from your face and your body. Something’s angering you. And if you say it’s not me than what is it?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Elijah gives me a “Are you serious” look, “So I can take away whatever is paining you.”
I think to myself for a moment before responding, “Well lucky for both of us if everything goes as planned than what is paining me will meet his demise soon enough.”
At my admission Elijah sits back slightly, “You’re talking about Klaus?”
I nod and Elijah’s frown deepens, “I thought you said he didn’t hurt you.”
“He didn’t, other than a few choices words and the way he acted around me, we didn’t interact much. But he did hurt Bonnie. And when I thought she was dead all I could think about was how much I wanted him to hurt.”
I look up to Elijah waiting for whatever unnerved look he’s going to have on his face. I haven’t told anyone my thoughts about this because I didn’t want them to think I’m some violent freak but when I look at Elijah all I see on his face is understanding. 
“I understand your hurt. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you and your friend. Is she alright now?’’
I’m weary about telling him Bonnie’s actually alive but something in my gut tells me I can trust him.
“Ya, she’s alright now.”
“What does it feel like, this anger?”
His question has me silent for a moment as I think it over, “It isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s like it takes over my whole body and I can’t think straight. It scares me,” I admit the last part quietly.
Elijah looks at me and his eyes show something I can’t put my finger on. He catches me staring and changes his face into one of nonchalnce. 
“What you’re feeling is normal Y/n. You’ve experienced more in the past few months than many will experience in their entire lives.”
I almost groan at the textbook explanation.
We sit there is silence for the next few moments until I see his expression change to one of slight confusion, “You said between your choice words and interactions you had with my brother? What were they?”
I think back to the day of the 60’s dance and frown, “He just stared at me weirdly in the beginning. And I went up to him asking him what was wrong, still thinking he was Ric, and he just gave me the cold shoulder and told me not to bother him. But then later that night at the dance he…kind of helped me. I guess.”
Elijah frowns and his next words come out low, “Helped you how?”
I remember the slight not heart attack I had and decide worrying anyone about that now is a bad idea, “I just choked on my drink a bit and he just made me sit in a seat and gave me some water to help.”
Elijah nods but from the look on his face I don’t think he entirely believes me, “Anything else?’’
I begin to shake my head and then stop, “When I figured out he wasn’t Ric he said something.”
“What did he say?”
“He said something about understanding now why he would like me or something like that. I don’t really know what he mean’t by that. Do you?”
Elijah stares at me and blinks once. Then twice and then once more before he slowly shakes his head. His reaction has me unnerved. And that’s exactly how he looks, unnerved. Almost spooked. And whatever spooks an immortal who can’t be killed is definetly going to make me nervous.
“Elijah? What’s wrong?”
Elijah instantly fixes his posture and leans forward, “You’re to stay away from my brother Y/n, do you understand me? Give me your word.”
At his urgent tone I frown, “Well I mean I’m not going to bring a basket of muffins to his house and welcome him to the neighborhood if that’s what you’re talking about.’’
My joke only seems to agitate him more, “Y/n.”
His voice comes out hard and stern making me instantly nod my head, “Ok, Elijah. I know.”
My agreement seems to ease him a bit. We hear the sound of a car pulling in and I watch as Elena climbs out of her car and walks to us likes she’s a woman on a mission.
“I’m sorry.”
Elijah voice has me turning back towards him and his face is now one of sorrow, “Sorry for what?”
“Back at the dinner party, I hurt you,” He gestures to my right thigh, “It was the last thing I remember doing while being daggered. And even in my comatose state it was all I dreamt about. I told you I would never hurt you and I did exactly that and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”
I’m taken aback by his confession and the look in his eyes overwhelms me. 
“It’s ok, Elijah. You didn’t know. Ric and Damon took you by surprise it’s not your fault.”
Elijah opens his mouth to speak again before Elena cuts in, “Tell us. What is Klaus’s curse?”
—-
I sit next to Elena, back on the sofa from before, as Elijah stands before us. After Elena got back Elijah guided us back inside.
  “You know, my family was quite close but Klaus and my father did not get on too well. When we became vampires, we discovered the truth. Klaus was not my father’s son. My mother had been unfaithful many years before. This was her darkest secret. Klaus is from a different bloodline. Of course, when my father discovered this he hunted down and he killed my mother’s lover and his entire family.”
My eyebrows raise at everything he’s telling us. And even though I hate Klaus, as someone with a strained paternal relationship I almost feel bad for him. Almost.
“Not realizing, of course that was igniting a war between species that rages until this day.”
Elena and I share a look, “A war between the species?”
Elijah nods, “The vampires…and the werwolves.”
Wait. If Klaus’ birthfather was a werewolf…holy shit.
“So Klaus’ real father was from a werewolf bloodline? What does that make Klaus? A werewolf or a vampire,” Elena’s question has me sitting up in my seat but a part of me already knows the answer. 
“He’s both.” 
I’m going to puke again. 
“A hybrid would be deadlier than any werwolf or vampire. Nature would not stand for such an imbalance of power. Therefore the witches, the servants of nature saw to it that my brother’s werwolf side would become dormant.”
“That’s the curse that Klaus wants to break?”
“He wants to trigger that part of him that’s a werewolf. If allowed, Klaus would sire his own bloodline. He’d build his own race. Endangering not just vampires…but everyone.”
Elena stands up but I stay seated as I try to process all this new information without puking up my lunch on my shoes. 
“But you helped him,” Elena says to him.
“I helped him because I loved him. That’s changed. Now he must die.”
“We have the dagger now. We can stop him,” Elena be so fucking for real right now. 
“When a werewolf is wounded by silver, it heals. An Original can’t be killed by anything but white oak ash on a silver dagger. So you see the conundrum. The dagger does not work.”
“What are you saying that Klaus can’t be killed?”
“There’s one way to kill any supernatural species. At the hands of the servants of nature themselves.”
“A witch. If they can channel that much power. But it would kill them.”
“The curse must be broken during the full moon. When Klaus is in transition. That’s when he’ll be at his most vulnerable. A witch with enough power…can kill Klaus.”
“What if I told you that I knew a witch that could channel that much power,” At Elena’s last sentence I’m whipping around in my seat. Is she being fucking serious right now?
“Then I would tell you there’s one more thing that you should know,” Elijah then goes on to tell us how he found an elixir that could’ve saved Katherine’s life if she’d not run.
“You found a way to save the life of the doppelganger?”
Elijah looks down at the floor, “Yes, Elena…I did,” He walks past her to come to stand next to where I’m seated, “But unfortunately, Katerina took matters into her own hands first. I believe you already know how that played out.”
“You cared about her didn’t you,” At Elena’s question I look up to Elijah who is already staring down at me.
“It’s a common mistake I’ve been told. It’s one that won’t happen ever again,” Our eyes are locked for the what seems like an eternity before he glances down at my hands and clears his throat. 
“We should be going now,” He says before he reaches his hand down for me to take. I grasp his hand and he gently pulls me up. He drops my hand as soon as I’m up though and walks towards the front door leaving Elena and I standing there in shock. 
“I need a drink.”
Elena shoots me a look, “You don’t drink.”
“Damnit, you’re right.”
 “Stop!”
Elijah has moved in front of me to shield me from the two buffons in front of us who are fighting each other. Elena drove the three of us back to the Salvatore mansion and as soon as we open the door we heard Yoda and the demon harassing each other. 
Elena steps down the steps towards them and I go to follow but Elijah puts out his hand to stop me. He shoots me a glance and a shake of his head. Guess I’m staying right here then. 
“Now you’ve invited him in,” Damon gawks at Elena.
“Elijah and I have renewed the terms of our deal.”
“Really,” Damon’s sarcastic voice ticks me off.
“Can’t you just listen for 30 seconds before making an unwanted comment Demon,” I yell over Elijah’s shoulder at the blue-eyed vampire.
“Shut it, pukey. I wasn’t talking to you,” Damon barely has time to finish his sentence before Elijah flashes in front of him and shoves him backwards.
“You will watch you’re tone when speaking to her. Or better yet,” Elijah picks invisible lint off his shoulder, “Don’t speak to her at all. Am I understood?”
Damon growls underneath his breath which has Elijah stepping towards him and Damon holding up his hands, “Fine.”
Elijah walks back up to stand in front of me and next to Elena as if he didn’t just threaten Damon, “The two of you will come to no harm at my hands. I only ask for one thing in return.”
“What?”
“An apology.”
A loud guffaw escapes my lips as I hunch over clenching my stomach.
“A what,” Damon’s tone only has me laughing louder and I feel Elena slightly nudge me to get a grip. I lean against the railing to catch my breath as Stefan steps forward and looks up to Elijah. 
“I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in your death. I was protecting Elena. I will always protect Elena.” 
I let out a small “aw.”
“I understand,” Elijah glances towards me. And then we all turn towards the Demon in the room. 
“Sacrifice is going to happen, Damon. Bonnie will be able to kill Klaus without hurting herself and Elijah knows how to save my life. I told you I’d find another way. And I did.”
Damon glares at Elijah, “Is that true.”
“It is.”
“And you’re trusting him?”
“I am.”
“You can all go to hell,” Damon bites out as he walks away.
“Can’t say I didn’t see that one coming,” I let out. 
Stefan shakes his head, “He’s angry with me right now.”
“Damon’s always angry at you.”
Stefan looks at me for a moment and his upper lip twitches before falling back into his tortured look. 
“But, he’ll come around.”
“Perhaps,” Elijah responds.
We all stand there for a moment before I yawn. 
“You should get some rest,” Elijah says to me. 
“I don’t really want to go home right now. Empty house and all. And since, he who shall not be named, doesn’t have to be invited in…well y’know.”
“You’ll stay here,” Stefan says to me, “For as long as you need.”
“Let’s just hope this is over soon. I don’t want to live under the same roof with that thing,” I point towards the direction Damon went, “For too long.”
333 notes · View notes
lume-nosity · 2 years
Text
‘i’ve got my eye on you.’
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characters: xiao, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche, venti, gorou
style: fluff, but very fluffy & comfy
song inspo: yes to heaven by lana del ray
an: dear diary, tonight i’ve found out that i’m insane for writing all of the short men. or at least write them in a semi-acceptable way. AND I REACHED THE 10 LIMIT PICTURE BULLSHIT SO I HAD TO MESS UP MY USUAL FORMATTING MY APOLOGIES IF THINGS LOOK DISORGANIZED AAA
notes: not proofread, gender neutral reader, some crack, lowercase intended, most likely ooc in some parts, genuinely did not know what i was doing when i’ve written this, reader being a lil sassy in xiao’s portion, petnames: love, dearest, dove, muse, darling
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xiao
“you could’ve gotten killed. why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“xiao, it was just a group of hilichurls.”
“it’s a group against one. they’d corner you and one of them will try to hurt you. the rest would follow suit.”
“well, what you said doesn’t matter anymore now that they’re all brutally slaughtered by you. they didn’t get the chance to do that.”
“…you really confuse me.”
xiao would lose it if someone or something laid one tiny little scratch on you. if it’s a serious injury bro will go ballistic.
if it’s a strong enemy, he’ll end their bloodline. if it’s a mere pigeon, get ready to have fowl for dinner.
him coming to you even though you didn’t call out his name was just pure coincidence.
he heard the sound of hilichurls so he followed the noises and there you were, getting surrounded by the hilichurls. his adrenaline kicked in.
he teleported to you and killed every single one of them swiftly.
he’s just worried about you, a little too worried for his own good. he can’t stand losing someone else, especially his partner.
so expect him to watch you from afar more often, to make sure you’re okay. he doesn’t have the intention of being creepy, he’s just your protector in the shadows.
he may not have experience in relationships, but he’s more than willing to learn by just being with you
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kazuha
“my dove, you ought to be more mindful of your surroundings.”
“i know, i know, i was spacing out and i didn’t think i’d walk into someone. i was that clumsy.”
“it was just an accident, and i’m sure the recipient understands. it’s a common accident, so you don’t need to think about it often as it’ll be forgotten afterwards. now then, i believe it’s time you need some rest. allow me to carry you to our room.”
even though he acts so chill on the outside, deep down he’s actually more worried about you.
that someone you bumped into was actually a fatui agent.
you and kazuha were casually strolling the streets of liyue until you started spacing out and bumped into the fatui agent. effectively making you fall on your ass and a little dizzy from the impact.
the agent wasn’t too happy about it, so they tried to attack you. kazuha didn’t let that happen though, as he predicted that attack years ago and blocked them with his sword.
you heard weapons clashing for a few seconds until there was pure silence. you rubbed your eyes and looked up at a solemn-looking kazuha with his hand reaching out to you. (when you asked what happened he passed it off as nothing, he didn’t want to concern you)
kazuha kept note to always accompany you in your travels no matter where you choose to go.
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tighnari
“you know you shouldn’t put your nose into things that are unfamiliar to you. especially items that may harm you. it astounds me how you’re this….”
“stupid? yeah”
“what? no, you’re not stupid.”
“then what?”
“you were unaware of the contents on the table and you’ve let your curiosity got the best of you. next time, let me know before you touch anything here, okay?”
tighnari would never and i mean never call you anything that would hurt you. sure, he can playfully tease you and be sassy with you, but not go as far to insult you. especially your knowledge.
he’s aware you’re smart in your own way, so he would never dream of insulting that. if someone were to insult you though, oh, he isn’t holding back.
about the item that you had the misfortune of peeking into, it was a sort of poison.
his ears flicker as he heard you coughing, and he rushes to you. dropping whatever he was doing at the moment to see you. it was a good thing he had an antidote on him for that poison, so he used it on you.
after you got back to your senses, he softly scolded you about ‘touching things that aren’t yours blah blah blah’
he didn’t leave your side that day and left his duties for collei to handle. nothing wrong with spending the rest of the day with your love, right?
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cyno
“sorry you had to go out of your way to save me again…for the fifth time this week. it must be getting annoying.”
“no, it’s never annoying to protect someone you cherish. it doesn’t matter if the issue at hand was unimportant or severe. your safety is my priority. on the plus side, these eremites were the ones i was originally going after. so thanks to you, i can rest easy. now that you’re safe and the eremites had been dealt with.”
“hm, actually i was wondering, out of those five attempts, how do you always manage to find me in a pinch? it’s almost as if you always know whether or not i’m in trouble or something.”
“….i’m afraid that is a secret, my love.”
much like xiao, he too is a protector in the shadows.
every time he’a gotten word you’re taking a trip to the desert for errands or anything along those lines, he will watch you like a hawk
he just wants to be absolutely sure you’re safe, because you’re on the top of his list of priorities.
if by chance he sees you in trouble, he’ll quite literally pounce from the shadows to pursue justice on the perpetrators.
it’s a double win in his favor. (would most likely joke about that to you too)
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heizou
“hey, are you alright?”
*you just waking up, regaining consciousness* “um, what happened?”
“oh, thank the archons, i thought you were a goner!”
“WHAT?”
“ah! right, let me explain. while we were out on a case to investigate on together, you got knocked out by some random treasurer! i for one am not in it for violence, but for your sake, i have beaten him up to a pulp and then called in someone to turn him in on our behalf. so now, you’ve just woken up.”
“….i did not understand a single thing you’ve just said.”
“hah, i believe it may be better that way.”
“why is that?”
“oh it’s nothing, it’s just a small occurrence that needed to be dealt with accordingly. anyways, now that you seem to be awake and well, shall we continue with our case, partner?
oh
my boy got away with murder /j
yes, he doesn’t like to resort to violence unless it had to come down to that.
but then again, for you? he’d fight the world with his bear fists
you guys are like partners in crime, so yes he’d go batshit crazy and panic if something were to happen to his beloved partner
would back out on a case that’s assigned to you both if it’s deemed to dangerous for you
even if you insist it’s fine, he wouldn’t buy that. because he loves you and doesn’t want to see you get injured, much like that encounter
most definitely flirts with you and input some pickup lines he has saved in his noggin. this may be irrelevant to the topic, but he’ll do this just to hide his worry for you
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albedo
“dearest, please don’t go running out in the cold again without having any winter-appropriate gear. i don’t wish to have you catching a cold.”
“bedo’, i’m alright! look, i’m feeling just fine!” (you sniff your nose)
“*sigh* come inside, i’ll cook you some warm soup.”
“what about that experiment you told me you were working on for the past few weeks?”
“that’s the least of my worries. right now, i’m more focused on your health. that i will prioritize first before my experiment.”
albedo is willing to pause his week-long experiment to look after you, what a lad.
would postpone it for as long as it takes for you to recover from your cold
he probably studies your face
it’s all for good intentions btw (for science)
gives you everything you need. more blankets? more soup? him?
oh yes he will definitely give himself to you (in terms of attention)
if he is needed for meetings or anything he’d have sucrose stand in for him, because he’d rather spend time on you than a meaningless meeting
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wanderer/scaramouche
“did you just-“
“ended them? sure as hell did.”
“you know you didn’t have to resort to extreme measures, right.”
“they had the audacity to belittle you in front of me. so i returned the gesture, tenfold.”
“okay but-“
“stop complaining, idiot. i did you a favor. next time, if you happen to find yourself in a situation like that again which i am certain it’ll happen, you should take notes from me.”
“wow, thanks for the advice.”
“my pleasure.”
love this asshat.
despite that rough exterior of his, that’s just his way of caring for you
spare him, he’s trying
he’s doing everything he can to show you he loves you despite it being a little challenging because he’s never experienced anything that involves being very close to humans
all his life he’s been resentful towards humans, but you’re the only one that stayed by his side.
which earned you a soft spot from him yippee!
he doesn’t admit it though, but that doesn’t stop him from loving you
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venti
“oh dear, you look a little worse for wear. say, have you finished yet another round of errands for people again?”
“venti, it’s normal for me. and it was only a few! you have nothing to worry about.” (passes out from exhaustion but venti catches you)
“ah, it’s usually me you need to carry around should i have a little too much to drink. but alas, it’s my turn to return the favor.”
(whispers and runs his fingers through the strands of your hair) “you should lay off on that habit of yours, my muse..”
yes i find it canon that you’ll always carry him around whenever he’s haggard
he’s definitely clingy, i know this has been said about him multiple times but it seems we all mutually agree on this statement
the type to play you calming melodies with his lyre as your resting face relaxes.
as you’re snoozing the night away, venti is right next to you, playing soft and soothing melodies on his lyre to sooth your slumber.
never leaves the room, holds your hand while you’re asleep. he doesn’t want to leave your touch for the night.
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gorou
“gorou.. what’s going on?”
“good morning, my love! i know you’ve just woken up from a good sleep but you must stay put in your bed for the day, because you need more time to revitalize yourself.”
“okay..wait. what about our comrades? the battle!? how long was i got knocked out for!?
“ah!- darling, shh…don’t worry! we had to retreat because we were clearly outnumbered and i was the one that called it. because after you got knocked out, and how the odds were against us at the time, i didn’t want you to get harmed in such a vulnerable state.”
“awww so even though you always long for victory, you called it quits just for me?”
“um- that’s!- oh fine, i’ll admit it. i was very worried about you during that battle, so i had to drop everything to carry you to one of our emergency shelters we have. and for that.. i chose to stick with you until you regain consciousness. her excellency allowed me to stay by your side, so it’s fine.”
“that’s… really sweet of you, it almost brings a tear to my eye”
“oh nonono don’t cry!!”
gorou, much like the rest of the workaholic smartasses here, would drop everything to spend time with you should you feel under the weather.
during your recovery, he’ll let you pet his ears and tail if it’ll entertain you/make you feel better
hear me out. when he tries to look after you during the night you’re resting, he flat out passes out next to you because of his exhaustion with his duties
which you can hear him snoring lightly, so you opened your eyes a little and pet his head with a smile on your face
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m4nj1r0s · 9 months
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Hanma relationship headcannons
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- He definitely pulls, so he’s been with a ton of girls. None of them lasted more than 2 months, and he just used them. You were supposed to just be another girl he used then tossed away, but he ended up staying. You were fun, and he needed more people apart from Kisaki to annoy.
- This mf is definitely annoying. Can and WILL ask you if you’re on your period whenever your mad (he knows you aren’t, he’s probably being creepy and tracking your cycle too.).
- The boys in Valhalla probably ask him for advice with girls. His advice is bad.
- “Girls hate it when they call you and you don’t pick up straight away. So if you can’t answer your woman, just switch your phone off. She can’t question you if you do that.”
- “When you guys go out, don’t pay. Let the girl pay, or you’re executing toxic masculinity, and she won’t like that. You guys need to be more woke.”
- He KNOWS his advice is bad, which is why he doesn’t use any of those tips with you. If you guys go out, none of you are paying. He’ll dine and dash. Want something from a shop? Distract the guy at the counter and he’ll grab it and run.
- At this point in your relationship, he’ll probably catch feelings and he won’t just randomly dump you over text.
- When Halloween rolls around, you two prank call Kisaki and literally everyone in Valhalla.
- Despite how annoying he is, he never forgets a special occasion. He’ll act like he did only to surprise you later. Probably got you a pet chicken for your birthday but then you made him take it back because he stole it.
- Would rather DIE than admit he gets jealous whenever you interact with boys. Not just any boys, but specifically those nice guys who are sensitive and are genuinely sweet to girls.
- He can’t be like that, he’ll forever have a reputation of playing around with girls and being a womanizer. Even if he’s in a dedicated relationship with you, he still gets paranoid you might realize that you deserve better and leave him.
- Definitely high maintenance when he catches feelings. Texts you 20 times a day and expects you to reply and have a conversation with him.
- Has a bad habit of sneaking into your room whilst you’re asleep and standing over you until you wake up to scare you.
- Refuses to stop until you move in with him, and one day you do!
- Leaves empty noodle cups, dirty socks and drinking glasses all around your shared room. He won’t even help to clean, he’ll just give you a big ass grin and promise not to do it again.
- Likes to catch you off-guard, like twice a year he writes you a very meaningful poem and leaves it in the pocket of a piece of clothing you wear a lot. He expects you to give him tons of kisses whenever he does.
- Doesn’t stop talking about you to Kisaki. It’s always “Oh yeah, Y/N likes that.” “I wonder what she’s doing right now..” “Y/N says she doesn’t like you.”
- Yes, he does tell people you are pretending to like but don’t actually that you dislike them. So you probably shouldn’t tell him if you don’t like someone..
- Accuses Kisaki of being jealous whenever he tells Hanma to shut up. “Jeez, Kisaki! If you want a girlfriend, I’ll be your trusted wingman. First off, make sure to disappear randomly to make yourself mysterious, girls love that…”
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