#it just sucks extra hard trying to have my white friends comfort me on the basis of relatability. like no you will never understand and that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

futuremrsreid · 3 years ago

Text

Dangerous Fantasies [S.R.] - Chapter One

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N and Spencer are sent into a BDSM club for an undercover mission and y/n discovers something interesting about her coworker/ best friend.

Warnings: none

"This is gonna suck so hard", I said groaning, cringing at the outfit I'm wearing one last time.

"Looking good y/n", Morgan said, holding back a laugh. God, I hate him.

“You both ready?”, Hotch asked looking at Spencer and me as he walks into the office. Sure, Hotch totally ready to go undercover in a BDSM club, no big deal.

“We are”, Spencer answered for me.

We were currently on a Case in Boston where a serial killer is targeting young (y/ body type) women with (y/hair color) hair and (y/skin color). Which, of course, look just like me. Hence the undercover mission. Even tho I did not want to do this at all, there were women out there that are being brutally murdered so I didn't really have a choice did I? At least they let me pick which man I want to go undercover with me. Morgan was okay with doing it and even tho I like him very much, I knew I wouldn't feel as comfortable as I feel with spencer. We had been really close friends since I started working at the FBI. And to all our surprise, Spencer didn’t mind going.

The things we knew about the unsub currently are that he was a man in his 40s, white, fit and that he was choosing his victims in the local BDSM club.

The team was going over the plan one last time before we all got in the cars, Spencer and me together in a normal car as to not raise any attention.

We go in, try to find the unsub, and when we do we go into one of the “playrooms” to inform the team. And then we wait till they arrest him. Sounded like an easy plan.

“Do you remember the rules”, Spencer asked, interrupting my thoughts. I groaned at the question.

“Unfortunately I do. 1st, always keep your head down. 2nd, do not speak until you are asked to and 3rd if you are asked to speak always address them as “sir”. I guess you're excited for me to call you that.” I rolled my eyes, already not feeling the degradation that was about to hit me.

“You forgot one.”

“I did?”

“4th, never roll our eyes. Thats gonna get you in trouble.” I rolled my eyes at that again, looking over to him. That asshole was smirking. Little bitch.

“Yep, this is so gonna suck.”

After a few more minutes we arrived at the club and it looked relatively normal. Inside Spencer told the man his fake name. We've had to put in a reservation beforehand because there was a show tonight.

After they found our reservation there was a man that's leading us to our seats. Spencer put a hand on my lower back while we followed him. On the way, I see something I really did not like. Every woman here, except the ones working, was kneeling at their dom's feet.

"Spencer?", I whispered in his ear, trying to keep my head down so it would go unnoticed.

"What is it?", he asked, applying a little more pressure on my lower back for reassurance.

"I will not get on my knees." I saw him nod, affirming that he understood what I meant. I will not kneel like a dog in front of all these strange creepy men. I knew this was for a case and lives were at stake, but I just couldn't. The problem was, it’s kinda expected.

We reached our seats and I grew more and more nervous that I would have to do this nonetheless. Spencer sat down and, to my surprise, pulled me down with him so I was sitting on his lap. This earned us around a dozen stares. Maybe the extra attention is good. It might draw out the unsub faster.

I was grateful I didn’t have to get on the floor but my anxiety didn't get any better. In fact, it only got worse. Especially when I had several eyes on me. I was so on edge that I jumped a bit when I felt Spencer's hand on my thigh. I quickly looked at him and saw his concerned frown. His fingers were tracing patterns on my thigh and it took me a few seconds to realize they are letters and not random patterns. He was starting over again and I was finally able to make it out. R U OK

I was about to reply when the show started. The lights got darker and most people started focusing on the stage. I can’t even describe what was going on up there but I was hoping it would be over soon.

Spencer was still waiting for an answer, which he made clear by tightening his hand on my thigh. I gave him a quick nod, I didn’t dare to say anything. He looked away from me, scanning the room, but his hand remained on my thigh, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

I know it was meant to calm me down and his hand was closer to my knee than anything else, but his touch made me even more nervous. Not the 'my life is currently in danger" nervous but the 'the man I've had a crush on since I met him is currently touching me in a way that passed the line of platonic" nervous.

The show had been over rather quickly, thank god, and the men either started to speak to some of the women or they took their sub to one of the rooms.

Spencer motioned for me to get up when a man stepped right in my line of sight.

"That’s a pretty little thing you have there. May I ask why she isn’t kneeling like she's supposed to?" The man’s voice was icy. I tried to get a good look without breaking my role. He fit the profile perfectly. Spencer’s grip on my back tightened, he probably noticed the same thing.

"I prefer having her close to me. And I wouldn't want her knees irritated before the real fun starts" before the real fun starts??? Well, he was oddly calm considering we were in a BDSM club and a serial killer was standing in front of us.

"Interesting", he looked me up and down, then he grinned and turned back to Spencer, "You mind if I take a turn?" I felt like i was going to throw up.

"Actually, I just wanted to go play with her." Spencer pushed me a bit so we can both stand up and attempted to walk me away when the man moved into our way, getting way closer to me than I'd like.

"It won't take long, I'll give her back to you in one piece." Liar, I would have been bound and gagged in the back of his car in less than 10 minutes

"Maybe when I am done with her", Spencer grabbed my arm and walked to one of the rooms, checking if it’s unoccupied before he pushed me inside.

I heared him talk to hotch, telling him who the unsub is, but I was far too focused on what just happened. This was all so terrible degrading but I wasn't able to help the excitement I felt when I heard Spencer say these things, his voice way darker than usual. And the way he had pushed me around, grabbed my thigh...

"Are you okay?", he interrupted my thoughts after he’s done talking to the others.

"Yeah, I'm fine", you could try to be a bit more convincing y/n... "How long do you think it will take for the others to arrest him?"

"10 minutes probably." He sat down on one of the sofas near the door. That was when I realized I didn't even look around the room yet. So I did and my eyes catched several things. What the hell even is all of this??

"So uh, BDSM huh?" I said, trying to be funny to ignore the very mixed feelings I had right now. I didn’t hear him react though, which made me look at him. He seemed way too relaxed considering we were in a fucking playroom. "How can you be so calm, Spencer." He didn’t immediately answer, which made me realize something. "Oh my god this is not your first time in a club like this is it?"

"What? Why would you say that?" The way his voice hitched made it very clear that I was right. And I was shocked. I had never thought he was a virgin or innocent, not like the rest of the team did, but this? I definitely did not expect that.

"You are way too calm for this to be your first time, Spencer." He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he knew I could tell when he was lying.

"Fine, you’re right." I wanted to say something but he didn’t give me a chance. "I've been to a few clubs before but it’s not my thing." Damn. Holy shit.

"But you tried it?" He just stared at me and I realized why. He was embarrassed. Maybe I had crossed a line.

"Sorry, you don't have to answer....And I’m not judging you, I just did not expect that."

"Promise me you won't tell anyone, especially Derek."

"I won't Spence, I promise... Though I would love to see his reaction when he finds out our seemingly innocent genius isn’t innocent at all." I laughed trying to lift the mood. But... I was interested now.

"Uh, sure."

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer though..." Great now I was getting nervous? Get yourself together y/n.

"You said it’s not your thing. What do you not like about it?" I really shouldn't have been asking this but I wasn't able to help myself and Spencer... he didn’t seem to mind questions considering he was still looking very calm. Or so I thought. He looked at me for a few seconds before sighing and shifting on the sofa.

“It is a bit too extreme for me sometimes. I don’t actually want to hurt someone.” He paused and just wanted to keep talking when his phone rang and Hotch told us it was done. “Come on let's get out of here.” And with that, he was getting up and opened the door for me.

Fine, Dr, Reid, but this conversation is not over…

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

309 notes · View notes

sunsents · 3 years ago

Text

The Cardigan - F.W 18+

My first ever post and it's a goddamn smut one shot. This has been in my Wattpad drafts for way too long (wrote it three-four months ago), it's not the best, and I'm not proud of the writing but et eez what et eez. I really wan't to start publishing my work and gotta start somewhere. Also the smut is shitty, and the dirty talk is just goddamn vile. Also I'm a horny mf.

Summary ---> "Is that mine? You look better in it than me, that's for sure." An intimate night with Fred after you guys find the house all to yourselves. This is just pure filth, like scroll if you wan't plot. 🌚

Pairing: fred weasley/fem!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut / overstim if u squint / cursing / thigh tiding / dirty talk / fred being a horny little shit / an attempt at innuendos / hand-job / cum play (?) / like one ass slap

Rating: 18+

DON'T REPOST MY WORK

The bathroom at the Weasley's were quite cramped, but you didn't care. Your shower was more than satisfactory, the wavering smell of Mrs. Weasley cooking downstairs mixing with the wonderful scent of Fred's shampoo. The hot water loosened all your fatigued muscles - those extra hours out on the field playing Quidditch was worth it - your muscles were taut, flexing wonderfully whenever you lifted your arm to rinse off the products in your hair.

When you opened the door of the bathroom, clouds of hot air escaping and surrounding the small corridor, you were surprised to hear no footsteps, loud chattering of your friends and the usual plates clinking in the kitchen. You figured going downstair naked wouldn't be a good idea, and entered Ginny's room.

The disheveled bedroom was empty, and you looked out the window to the vast garden and wheat fields that got darker with the hot summer night approaching. There was no sign of anyone and you were starting to get anxious. Maybe it was because of the unusual silence - the Weasley household always had some kind of chaos happening - nevertheless, you quickly slipped on some satin shorts and a soft, white knit sweater to keep the evening breezes at bay. After swiftly drying your hair with a towel - you were letting it air dry, Cosmopolitan said Cindy Crawford did it - you applied whatever product was routine for your body and left the room.

Your magical radio was playing a soft jazz from the den and immediate relief washed over you when you stepped downstairs. The creams and perfumes that stuck to your skin wafted around the air and filled the rooms with delicious essences, and your soft socks slipped and slid across the wooden floor to the kitchen as you pushed yourself with ease. You quickly caught yourself with a chair and laughed, being alone wasn't so bad, you figured you could find ways to entertain yourself.

Until, a low chuckle from the den caused you to yelp and almost fall on your ass, merlin forbid. You couldn't bear another injury after George two left feet Weasley accidentally kicked you on the shin while playing Quidditch.

Speaking of Weasley, Fred Weasley was sprawled out on the couch, wearing only his boxers and a long, loosely knitted cardigan sitting on his exposed skin. You felt your mouth water, his head was lazily thrown back, exposing his curved neck and Adam's apple, his freckles more noticeable than ever. He was staring at you, his lips tugging a smile and enjoying the show you put on. Humiliation, is what it was. You were sliding around floorings like Madame Maxine on ice.

Your blood suddenly felt on like liquid fire, and you opened the cupboards to get yourself a glass of water. "Aguamenti," you casted, and from the corner of your eye you saw Fred's gaze set on your exposed legs, trailing up to your ass that was slightly exposed from the length of your shorts. They rode up more when you stood on your toes to place the cup back on the shelf after chugging the liquid down and muttering a cleaning spell.

"Is that mine?" you cleared your throat, finishing up in the kitchen and walking over to one of the rocking chairs. You didn't know why Fred was sitting around practically naked - you didn't question because he was Fred Weasley and you were tired. You weren't complaining etiher.

"Yeah," Fred said breathlessly. "It's surprisingly comfortable."

"You look better than me in it, that's for sure." You chuckled darkly, eyeing his provocative muscles. The hickeys you had left from a few days ago were slightly healed, soft reds trailing his nape and they weren't helping the growing desire between your legs. "Where is everyone?" you asked.

Fred quickly noticed your poorly hidden lustful stares and moved the cardigan away with a sly smirk, revealing more of his abs and flexed thighs. "They went out to Diagon Ally, won't be back until ten." he said. You nodded then took a deep, shaky breath and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. You settled in your mind that maybe looking through the new season Versace bikinis would calm your lust.

Fred let out a long, erotic sigh, allowing a soft groan to escape his lips along the way. Your hand twitched, you were still oblivious to his intentions and crossed your legs for some friction. "Hey ____," Fred called out, and you hummed in response, not looking up from your magazine. You seemed to have read the same line five times now. "I think there's something in my eye, can you blow on it."

Your eyes went wide, Fred was vulgar. This was no surprise to you after dating him for almost two years, but saying something so shamelessly, no hesitation still made your heart stutter. Your imagination was running wild now, you pictured every single thing you wished to do to him at this moment, in those clothes. You quickly put your magazine down, more of slapped it on the table. "Sure, yeah." you said in a shaky voice, then stood up and walked over to him.

Fred's arms were wide on the couch, and one of them pulled your hand down when he was able to reach you. Your heart stopped for a moment, you felt herself land harshly on his thigh and the impact on your core caused a groan from the back of your throat to slip out.

Fred was rather enjoying himself, his head lazily leaning back on the pillow as he rubbed your thighs up and down, digging the pads of his fingers into your skin and causing an embarrassingly load of your juices to flow to your newly worn panties.

You readjusted yourself so the heat between your legs weren't in direct contact with his thigh. You scooted closer and had to bite back a moan when Fred jerked his leg up and applied pressure on your clit. You were trying your best not to show his effect on you, "Which eye." you hissed through gritted teeth, still pursuing his obvious lie.

Fred's shit eating grin only grew wider, and he took your hand and placed it right on his crotch. He was hard beneath his boxers, swelling bigger the second and you were fighting the urge to palm his cock. You shot him a warning look to which he playfully frowned, then gestured to his right eye. You leaned in closer, maybe he really did have something in his eye.

Fred's breathing was heavy, fanning over your lips as you tried to take a closer look. Your inspection was cut short when he gripped your waist, riding up your sweater to touch you directly. You gasped and straightened up at his rough hands kneading around your stomach. Chills were racing down your spine, you didn't want to give in just yet, just for teasing purposes, but Fred was making it unbelievable hard with his tousled hair and hooded eyes boring into yours.

Your panties felt soaked and you hoped he wouldn't notice, but when Fred gripped your shorts and pulled them down, his eyes fell on the wet fabric that was stuck to your entrance. You were painfully aware of how aroused you were, and your heated cheeks weren't helping with your embarrassment.

Fred licked his lips - his expression lust crazed - then he gripped one of your legs and guided it around his thighs, making you straddle him. He held both of your thighs and pulled you in closer, and when your knee touched his boner, it caused him to groan lowly and attempt to close the small gap between your two bodies.

You marveled at the idea of being any more closer to him, the aching on your lower abdomen making you grind yourself on his thigh, whimpering at the much needed friction. The scene looked erotic to you, Fred's finger had slithered down to your panties and moved them to the side to expose all of you, flushed and swollen. He gripped your waist again and started rocking your body on his thigh, "Ride my thigh baby, wan't you to get off on me," he said huskily, "Slow and good~"

You didn't know what else to do other than nod as much agreeable a nod could get. Fred started guiding your hips at a slow pace, not letting you fasten it once. He tutted when you tried for the second time, "Stop being impatient my love." he crooned, straightening himself up to finally meet your lips.

But you barely responded.

You were slack-jawed, your clit swollen painfully, your hips swiveling to get more contact. Pathetic really, is what it was. Fred said few words of filth and here you were, panting and rutting, thanking whoever up there to have the opportunity to ride Fred's obscenely attractive thigh. A thigh shouldn't be this attractive you thought, his skin warm and comfortable, generous muscles teasingly helping you get off. Emphasis on teasingly, he wouldn't let you have anything that easily. It was heaven and hell all at once.

Fred was sensually tracing the outline of your mouth with his tongue all the while, then dipped down and feathered kisses on your jaw that was just as slow as his pace. "Fuck, you're so filthy for this. Who knew this is all it took?" he groaned.

"You have such a responsive cunt babe, I can do whatever I want and you just lose it. Fuck-"

You were growing more frustrated the second and Fred was getting rather talkative, he ran his nose down your collarbones, sucking the supple skin into his mouth and leaving crimson marks. "Freddie please - just, mmmh!" you cried out a strangled moan, you had finally gotten what you wanted. You knew Fred could never resist the nickname, and in such a tone too.

He had started to rub your clit, his other arm wrapping around the small of your back protectively. He groaned against your neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure trailing from your marked neck all down to your feet. But Fred wasn't stupid, he had caught on rather soon and chuckled.

"Bad girl." he mocked, then gave you a light smack on your ass, causing you to yelp and jump. You landed harshly on Fred's thigh again and the moan you let out was almost painful. You clutched onto his hair as he gripped your waist and continued to rock you on his thigh.

You let him guide your movement, your juices easily allowing you to slide yourself back and forth on him, and whenever Fred would pull you forward he would apply pressure on your clit by gripping your waist tighter and pushing you down. He fastened his pace with every grind, and every huff of air you let out when your hips would come in contact. "Oh fucking hell - yes," Fred heaved, your knee must've been grazing against his cock just right because he was letting out soft groans and curse words every other second, his hefty length visible behind the fabric.

You couldn't resist, he had such an attractive dick even after seeing it so many times. You started rubbing him from the outside of his boxers, digging the pads of your fingertips into his shaft whenever you could. Fred's head rested between the slope of your breasts, and his hips bucked up at your touch, rutting desperately into your fisted hand, causing you to loudly moan out when his thigh pressed on your swollen bud.

He was barely jutting your hips at this point, barely able to focus on your pleasure from the amount he was getting. Cocky attitude gone as soon as you touched him, you made him melt under your palm. "I love you so fucking much - ohhh...holy shit, keep rubbing me like that." he moaned against your skin, the intense vibrations making you shudder.

You started to move by yourself, quickly and desperately, your juices glazing the skin and soaking up your panties that was making it harder for you both. But it felt too good to stop and remove it, the heat in your core was growing and you closed your eyes to focus on the man that was letting out hot breaths between the valley of your breasts. His hand started playing with your nipple, squeezing it between his forefinger and thumb as the other gripped your waist and rocked you faster.

Your movement was getting sloppy, legs trembling and jerking whenever pressure was applied to your clit. You were whining the name of your lover, your voice almost pornographic. "Cum my love - fuck yes, cum all over me. Make a mess of me." Fred's hand left your nipple and guided your hips faster, the other pulling down on your thighs as you threw your head back. Fred started circling your clit to speed up your fast approaching release, but it wasn't even needed.

With a final, high pitched squeal, your vision went black, stars dancing around your lids. Your body shuddered violently, and you came hard all over his thigh. "You look so beautiful I-" Fred barely managed to let out before you gripped down his boxers and let his erection swing out. You wrapped your hand around the head and watched in amusement as pre-cum leaked out when you squeezed.

"What? Gonna milk me dry baby?" Fred chuckled darkly, his free hand running through his tousled hair while the other gripped and kneaded the side of your waist.

"I was hoping to do more than that, but for now..." you licked a long stripe up the base of his neck to the back of his ear, and bit. All the while, your hand started working around his painfully hard cock. Fred was almost heaving now, unlike you who just recently came down from your mind blowing orgasm.

"I-...please, I wan't-" Fred gulped, and in the very rare moments he didn't know what to say. You started pumping his cock, the moment you squeezed him tighter he was coming.

"Fuck fuck fuck - ____!" Fred released all over your hand, his dick twitching beneath your fingers as he leaned his body on yours and let out strangled moans against your neck. You licked your fingers clean, then gently lifted Fred's chin. His eyes were slanted in a deep post-orgasmic daze, and you started to give him slow, wet kisses. "Look how good you taste." you whispered, swirling your tongue around his as he groaned into your mouth.

You were obsessed with how mesmerizing Fred looked. When he came, when he cried out whatever filthy thing came to mind, that blissful glow he had after orgasming. You wanted to repeat those moments over and over again, come with him yourself and touch yourself to his noises. And his taste, you could never get enough of it.

#fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #hp smut #fred weasley smut #harry potter fic #reader insert #fred weasley imagine #harry potter smut

683 notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 4 years ago

Note

I want giggly cuddly sex with tadashi 🥺 where there’s no power dynamic just us two having a good time and wanting to make the other feel good :((

I combined these two little ditties into a fic!!! I hope you don’t mind!!!

CW: established relationship, praise, sex, fluff/smut.

yamaguchi x reader

(reader has a vagina- no pronouns or gendered language used)

first time

It's one of the pitfalls of a new relationship; everything the other person does is endearing.

"I'm just saying, it's weird that the fourth movie is so good!" Yamaguchi digs his hand into the bowl on your lap, picking through the entire bowl to scrape at the popcorn kernels. He tosses the bits into his mouth and chews thoughtfully, cracking through each kernel loudly, before pausing to suck the excess salt off of his fingers.

God, if anyone else did that, you'd probably be disgusted, or at the very least annoyed, but there's something about Yamaguchi that makes it unbearably endearing. Maybe it's the little shoulder dance he does every time he takes a bite. Maybe it's the way your heart skips a beat when his tongue swipes over his knuckle, catching a bit butter. "Name another series that has a good fourth movie. You can't. Scream 4 is one of a kind."

He does it again, crunching through the kernels happily, tongue peeking out once again to wipe across his fingertips.

God, you wished he would lick you like that.

"Tadashi, you're gonna break a tooth." you chide, even as you sink further into his lap. There was plenty of space on the couch, but you had somehow migrated to his lap sometime during the previous movie. The arm around your shoulder tightens, pulling you into a kiss on the cheek. It's greasy with butter residue, but somehow it still makes your heart flutter.

Fuck. Only 3 months into the relationship and you were wrapped around his finger, watching movies that you didn’t have any interest in. Any little annoyance was forgotten as soon as he flashed you that freckled smile. Every little nuance you discovered made you fall deeper into .... like.

Not love. Like. You weren't ready to admit to the 'love' word quite yet, but it was getting closer. You had been 'in like' with Yamaguchi since shortly after he moved into the cubicle next to yours. Maybe it had been the way he always remembered to grab you an extra sugar packet for your coffee, or the way he laughed at whatever podcast he was listening to that day, or the way he silently procrastinated at the end of the day so you could walk to bus together: whatever it was that won you over didn’t matter, what did matter was that Yamaguchi made you feel happier than anyone else. It felt natural to be with him, to be held by him, to be ‘liked’ by him.

...Your only complaint was the pacing. One of the best and worst things about the two of you was that you were both polite, constantly dancing around unsaid boundaries, trying overly hard to respect each other, avoiding any situation that could possibly make the other one uncomfortable. Which meant your physical relationship was nothing more than the occasional kiss.

Honestly, you were beginning to think he didn't want to. His hands never wandered, his texts never turned dirty, and you certainly never initiated anything. It felt like there was never an opportunity to start anything; even now, sitting on his lap while wearing a sweatshirt he had left at your apartment weeks ago, it felt wrong to interrupt a wholesome moment.

Not that you didn't want to. God. You wanted to.

"You know, I don't think anyone's ever worn my hoodie before." he comments, eyes never leaving the television. He’s enthralled with this stupid movie, even though he had seen it 'dozens of times.'

"Really? I’ve been wearing it as a shirt. " you grab at the fabric, "Do you want me to take it off? "

"Yeah, sure." he responds blankly, attention still glued to the movie. Then, he seemingly realizes what he said, face immediately erupting into a furious blush. He's quick to separate for you, almost spilling the entire bowl on the ground. You mirror him, unsure if you should laugh at his panic or cringe. "No! Do not take your shirt off! I do not want that!"

"Tadashi. Calm down." You laugh, even as disappointment settles in the back of your throat. Does... does he really not want to see you undressed? Is this why you guys having had sex yet? Did he just see you as a friend? For his comfort and not your own, you inch farther away, back against the opposite arm as him. "It's fine, I get it."

"No, I-" he takes a moment to settle himself, "You look phenomenal with my hoodie on, I just, I don't want you to take your shirt off unless you want to, because it’s totally something I want. I think about it-" he pauses mid sentence, ears burning so red that his freckles seem to disappear, " I mean, if- I'm not like that- if you're not ready- that's not why I invited you over. I'm not expecting anything."

He gives a nervous chuckle, widening the distance between the two of you more. You let his words sit, only the sound of the movie in the air.

"So." you begin slowly. "You think about me without a shirt on?"

“I mean, of course.” He is acutely aware of the edge of the couch, his body teetering at the brink, but he bares it. "Can I tell you something? You can't laugh at me. Or think I'm a pervert."

"I can't promise that. Are you, like.... sniffing my underwear or something?" you joke, a grin sneaking across your face.

He snorts and shakes his head almost violently.

"Okay, no! Now the real thing doesn't sound as pervy." he adjusts only slightly, his shoulders unbunching themselves. Most of the tension in the air has melted away. That's what was so great about Yamaguchi; even when things turned awkward, they quickly returned to normal. "Do you remember that time Yakki split that water all over you?"

You roll your eyes at the memory. "Of course."

"And you had that little white blouse on?" he swallows, "My productivity at work dropped about 50% that day. It was so bad that the boss scolded me."

"Yeah, because you were too busy worrying about me catching a cold!" you say, "You even gave me your jacket!"

"No, I gave you my jacket because your shirt was see-through.” he admits, “My productivity dropped because all I could think about was how I wanted to take you and that little see-through shirt into the storage closet."

Oh God. This is it. This is the opportunity.

You lean forward with a tilt of your head, the gapping neck of the shirt falling forward past your collarbone. His eyes are glued to the neckline, tracing over the hint of skin, silently begging for more. You tuck your knees up under you and begin to crawl, only half convinced that this is sexy. The closer you get, the more he can see down your shirt. His breath hitches slightly at the sight, but he doesn't dare to look away.

"Oh? What were you thinking about doing to me in that storage closet?" Yamaguchi lets his legs fall apart and, hesitantly, you place a hand between his knees, fingertips grazing the grey cotton of his sweatpants. The band of his bright red underwear peeks out from under his shirt and, without thinking, you trace over it with a pad of your finger. At the touch, he leans forward, lips tickling the shell of your ear as he speaks. Your heart is thrumming in your eardrum, so hard you can barely hear what he's saying.

"First, I would have ripped that wet little shirt off, button by button." he chuckles, reaching to tuck a tendril of hair behind your ear. Your pussy clenches at the low rumble of his voice, so hard you feel like your stomach is cramping. "Then, I-"

A scream cuts through the room. The both of you jump forward into each other, knocking your skull against his jaw. Almost in unison, you both reel back: you clutching your ear, him clutching his lip. The bowl spills across your laps, scattering popcorn all over the couch and floor as you both frantically search for the source of the noise. The dramatic music of the movie drums through you as some damsel in distress is running across the screen, screaming for help.

One beat. Two beats.

Then, you laugh. It's one from the belly, that makes your gut ache from effort. You're trying to reach for Yamaguchi, make sure he's okay, but your eyes are watering, and your whole body shaking. He's giggling too, still covering his lip.

"The movie scared me!" you explain through tears. He nods in agreement, gesturing to the mess across his lap, including a huge butter stain across his crotch. It's not a funny moment, not when both of you are aching, but an intangible something has you both snorting and sobbing through giggles. The moment is way too long, way past the point of any humor, but Yamaguchi's snickering feeds into yours.

Finally, Yamaguchi manages to collect himself, scrunching his lips into a straight line. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards and you dissolve into giggles once again.

"I want to fuck you so bad right now." he breathes. His directness surprises you. "But not on top of the popcorn."

You pull a deep breath, trying to center yourself. "We could move?"

"My roommate is going to kill me when he comes home to this mess." he says, but he stands anyway. You follow and his hand finds the small of your back, pulling you into him softly. He presses a kiss against your lips, warm and gentle, and then pulls back with a grimace.

"I think you bruised me.” he touches his lower lip gingerly, as if testing it.

“I’m sorry, we don’t-” he silences you with another kiss and now you can feel the swollen corner of his mouth, gritted slightly with salt. He clutches on to your top as he steps backwards, dragging you along with him so the kiss doesn’t break. Each step is rocky and unsure (you barely miss colliding into the wall) but you stay embraced, your hands clutching into his dark locks, partially to keep your balance as blindly follow. His hands trace up under your shirt, thumbs digging into the soft of your hips, pulling you flush against him, forcing you deeper and deeper into him until-

“Oh, shit.” he breaks away suddenly, pushing you back slightly. “I- my room- I need you to stay here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My room’s a mess, I really didn’t expect that you would- that we-” he shakes his head. “Gimme 30 seconds- please. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You don’t object as he scuttles away, clicking the door firmly closed behind him. You can hear the muffled sounds of drawers slamming and objects being tossed about as you wait. It feels like you have been standing there, starting at the generic art hanging in the hall, for ages. It’s much longer than 30 seconds, but not quite the eternity it feels like.

The door creaks open and your favorite freckled face peeks out. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you repeat. Somehow, every amount of tension had returned in the scant amount of time you had been apart. Both of you knew what you wanted to do, but, the knowledge seemed heavy. It was an explored territory, sleeping with someone new. No matter what your past relationships were, each new experience with a new person (especially a new person you CARE about) brought its own pitfalls and challenges. It seems so serious, so scary, until you tear your eyes away from the floor and actually look your boyfriend in the eyes.

"Did you just brush your teeth?" you reach out and brush a little bit of white foam from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. He leans into your palm with a smile.

"I didn't want to taste like popcorn." he says and you can't help but laugh as he leads you into the room. It’s his brand of organized chaos; there’s clothes peeking out from the closet, miscellaneous knick knacks on the nightstand (including a still foamy toothbrush) and half hung posters across the walls. . You break away to sit on the bed, tracing over the pattern of the bedspread.

“I like this.” you comment, “Very nice.”

He nods, frozen in the doorway. Slowly, he reaches up to the lightswitch and flicks the light off. The darkness feels heavy with anticipation and worry as he pads around to the other side of the bed. He feels it too, you decide, as you watch his adam’s apple bob in the low light, this insane mixture of pressure and excitement.

For Yamaguchi, it’s the thoughts that usually plague his mind at night that grate away his confidence. The dreams of your skin between his fingers, your taste on his lips, are so close to reality, but he can't bring himself to make the first move. Even in the low light, he can see the curve of your waist, slowly contracting with every exhale. His own breathing matches your pace and, for some odd reason, that realization makes his chest burn with longing.

"I'm not expecting anything. If you don't want to." he reiterates as he lies down. How pathetic, he thinks. He really wasn't expecting anything, but, god, was he thinking about it. He'd been thinking about it since the first time he had seen you from across the If he could just reach out, just grab your collar and pull you to him, he could finally-

"Tadashi." his skin jumps at the sound of your voice and the sound of you shuffling, laying across the mattress. It's enough to knock him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He swallows back the tightness in his throat as he inches closer to you, his knees brushing against yours. He feels the gravity of the mattress shift as you shuffle closer and closer, until you're within inches of him. You're almost face to face now, close enough that he can feel the way your breathing picks up as his hand finds your shoulder. You hum at the contact; he's warm. Even through the thick cotton, his skin is unusually hot against you.

"You're like a little space heater." you whisper. Yamaguchi blinks, thinking, before his lips peel into a smile.

"Is that a good thing?" He doesn't wait for an answer. He squeezes gently and you let him pull you forward, nose pressed against nose, hip against hip. His own shoulders shake with a silent laugh and you can't help but join him. It's something about the novelty of the situation, the joy in doing something new, breaking an unspoken boundary, that makes you laugh. You both dissolve into giggles, shifting closer and closer until you're laughing in each other's arms, fully pressed against each other. Even through your sweatpants you can feel the suggestion of his cock pressed against you, heavy against his thigh.

" ’Dashi." you whisper into the thin space between you.

"I- Yeah?" he lets out a shaking breath. You take his hand and guide it to your chest, his fingers immediately cupping the flesh, massaging the flesh with a surprisingly steady touch. The way he sucks in air, fast, surprised, and hungry, sends heat pooling to your core.

"There's no popcorn here." you joke, "If you wanna fuck me."

It's enough to break through his anxiety and he's against you again, this time with no laughter to keep your lips apart. His mouth finds yours, hungrily catching your lower lip between his teeth, tugging it ever so slowly. The sharpness makes you gasp and he uses the opportunity to kiss you deeper, tongue against yours. He tastes like his brand of toothpaste- soft and sweet mint. It's unexpectedly hungry, unexpectedly rough.

The kiss doesn't break as he rolls over on to you, pressing your back into the down of his bed. His heart is already racing, battering against his ribs, as he continues tugging and teasing your breast, but he can't find it in himself to slow down. His free hand pushes up the hem of your shirt (his hoodie) to expose your chest. The kiss ends as he pulls away, forcing the short in-between your teeth, holding it up to give him free reign of your body. His head dips to join his hand, breath hot against your nipple. The cloth muffles your moan, but not enough to hide it from your lover.

He pauses, mouth open and tongue lulled out of his mouth, gazing up at you through his eyelashes. "Is this okay?" he's not touching you, but you can feel the low vibrations of his whisper against your skin.

"Yes, please." you whine through the sweatshirt, wrapping your hands into his hair. "Please, Please."

His tongue traces over your nipple delicately before he pulls back, just far enough to watch it pebble under his touch. He returns to work, clamping down and sucking, leaving the dull pain of a blossoming bruise behind. Your hips rut up into nothing, looking for any sort of friction.

He continues like this, leaving scattered marks across your skin as he worships you. Yamaguchi seems so content, just learning the scape of your body, but the building tension in your core is wearing thin.

Trailing touches down his body, you slipped your hands under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him through his boxers. Yamaguchi breaks, resting his forehead against your collar bone with a swallowed groan, as your fingers trace around the crown of his cock. Unwilling, he bucks into your light touch, dragging his length through your grasp. You tighten your fingers as he continues fucking himself against your palm, his own hands drifting to grasp your hips, pushing down your shorts just a fingers-length. Finger pads traced against the newly exposed skin, dipping lower and lower until tracing over the lace of your underwear.

"Wow." he breathes, lifting his head up to press a kiss against your chin. "Lift your hips for me, beautiful."

You comply, letting him peel off your shorts and underwear in one pull. The cool night air made you shiver, but his warm hands soon returned to explore the newly exposed skin.

"Oh, you're so..." his hand dips in between your legs, dragging a digit through your folds. The sound of your slick against his fingers makes his cock pulse in your grasp. He leaves his thought unfinished as he starts circling your clit with a steady touch. The pressure sends you keening, hips rolling into his touch eagerly, but he remains steady, patient.

He's building you up embarrassingly fast, leaving you sweaty and panting under his touch. Just as your legs start shaking, your body right on the brink, he withdraws. His tongue darts out to wipe away your fluids from his hand and he groans at the taste, eyes fluttering.

"I'm sorry, beautiful. You can't cum until I'm inside you." he whispers, sitting up to peel off his shirt. Clusters of freckles dapple his shoulders and it's all you can watch as he scrambles away to the nightstand drawer. He returns a moment later, eager tearing through the tin foil packet with his teeth.

"Tadashi! Be careful!" you scold as you throw the blankets aside.

"It's not ripped!" he says, grabbing the bunched up shorts from the crook of your knee and tugging it completely off, dragging you a couple inches down the mattress with them. He tosses them aside as he pulls off his own; even though you just had your hand around it, the sight of his cock makes you anxious. It's thick, much thicker than you anticipated, and around leaking, a bead of precum catching at little light in the room.

As he begins rolling the condom on, you peel off your top and Yamaguchi's mouth falls open, eyes darting around the entirety of your body.

"Holy. You-" he sighs happily. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." He surges forward, pressing you down into the mattress once again. His mouth is against yours, swallowing your whines. His hands are at the small of you back again. but now it's about but pure. He's forcefully angling your hips back and forth against his cock, dragging your clit against his spongy head and spreading your wetness against the plastic film.

"I can't believe I get to fuck you." he says in between kisses. Yamaguchi continues to fuck your folds, his calm pace finally losing it's rhythm. "I can't believe I get to play with this perfect pussy. Can't wait to see you cum around my cock." With a trembling hand, he reaches down and presses his tip against your entrance, hesitating before sinking just the head inside you. The pop of his cockhead entering your cunt makes both of you gasp in unison- and another wave of giggles over takes the both of you. As he dips down onto his elbows, eyes screwed shut, he doesn't make a move for a long moment, the only sound in the room is his steady breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'm just-." he presses a kiss against your neck, another laugh bubbling up, "You just- ah, you're so pretty. I can't believe this is real."

Your hand catches his jaw, pulling his face up into yours. Your thumb traces over his cheek, tracing over the subtle dimpling of his pock marks. The freckles scattered across his cheeks, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he smiles- he's the beautiful one here. At your touch, he pushes further into you, steadily feeding your tight whole inch by inch, watching the way your mouth gapes and twists at the pressure. Once he's fully seated in you, he pauses, watching your chest move with each breath.

"Dashi," you whine, hooking your ankles together around his waist, "You're so thick."

"I know, you're doing such a good job." he presses a kiss against your forehead as he begins rolling his hips against you. Each thrust is rough, your hips angled up for him to sink his full length into you. "Keep being good for me, baby."

With an unexpected strength, he tugs you closer, lifting your hips off the bed. Each stroke is steady, pumping his entire length in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace. His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer, begging for more, but he doesn’t oblige. It stays sinfully slow, building you up in a controlled burn. Each kiss, highlighted by the mingling of your hot breaths, is further raking the coals.

“Is my pretty baby gonna cum for me? Look how great you’re taking me.” he groans. He’s praising you blindly now, neither of you sure of exactly what he’s saying, all of his attention focused on grinding into you.

Your back arches further, and you’re seeing stars as he fucks you just right. You can barely keep your vision focused on him, those grey eyes clouded with concentration Your orgasm knocks the breath out of your lungs and you come undone with a strangled laugh, fisting the sheets desperately. The way you clench down around him makes his hips finally stutter, a hiss escaping his gritted teeth. Your chest is filled with a flurry of emotions as you sling your arms around his shoulders, unable to wipe away the goofy grin in your face.

A few more snaps of his hips has him melting into you as he cums. He tucks his head under your jaw with a hum, dropping you on to the mattress. His hands find their way back to your chest, giving you a final squeeze.

"Fuck." he whispers into the soft of your neck as he withdraws. He's quick to peel off the condom and tie to off, discarding it off the side of the bed. Yamaguchi rolls onto his back, holding his arms open expectantly. "You're so hot when you laugh, you know that?"

Curling into his arms, finding some sort of gross comfort in his sweaty warmth, you can't help but suppress another giggle.

"Hey, be careful. Keep laughing and we'll have to do that again." he grips your jaw, tilting your face towards him to capture you in a kiss. "Don't test me; I'll fuck you so hard you'll need a standing desk on Monday."

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your hand tracing down his chest, connecting his freckles. "Prove it."

"Oh, I will, come here-"

The distant sound of a door slamming catches your attention. "Yamaguchi, what the fuck?" a familiar voice echoes through the apartment.

Yamaguchi shoots up, frantically searching for his pants in the sheets. "Fuck, I forgot about the popcorn!"

#yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi hc #yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #karasuno #mint's musings

2K notes · View notes

ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses. Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

#bts smut #jimin smut #bts fics #jimin fic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts x you #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jimin fics #bts fic #bts fanfics #jimin fanfics #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios

498 notes · View notes

writemekpop · 4 years ago

Text

Love the Way You Lie (Part 2) | Kim Doyoung

Pairing: Kim Doyoung x Reader

Summary: You find yourself back in bed with Doyoung... but can you forgive him for hitting you?

Genre: Angst, Ex boyfriend!Doyoung

Warning: Mentions of domestic violence, sexual content

Word count: 1.8k

Gif: @thoresque

Part 1 | Part 2 ⭐️

“Y/n?”

Doyoung’s voice pierces through the fog that clouds your mind.

You blink twice, but this is no hallucination - it really is him. Doyoung looks thinner than you remember – his cheekbones jut out and his cheeks look gaunt.

Your hands start to tremble, and your phone clatters onto the floor. You stand there, frozen.

Doyoung picks up your phone from the floor. As he gives it back, the cracks in the screen perfectly match the cracks in the mug Doyoung shattered when he hit you.

“I can’t believe you’re here, Y/n! Can I… get you a drink?” Doyoung’s voice is saturated with forced sweetness. He’s smiling, but his black eyes, which once held galaxies, are dull.

“I don’t know…” You glance towards the exit. You could be out of here in ten seconds.

“Please, Y/n. Just one coffee.” Doyoung’s voice cracks, and real emotion flares across his face. You don’t know what it is, maybe the years of good memories, but something makes you say yes.

You sit across from Doyoung in a booth. You stare soullessly at the foamy spiral on your latte.

Doyoung clears his throat. “How… have you been?”

“I’ve been fine. Great, actually,” you lie.

The truth is, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since that night. Tossing and turning in bed, crying. Even sleeping with other men hasn’t numbed the pain that Doyoung caused.

Doyoung nods. His eyes are glassy, and pain is written all over his face. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

“How about you?”

Doyoung’s face screws up. “These have been the worst months of my life. I really regret what I did, Y/n. God, I am so angry with myself!”

Doyoung slams his fist down on the table, and his mug jolts.

The noise makes you flinch.

Doyoung sees your wide eyes and trembling lips, and gasps. He closes his eyes and takes three deep breaths. The lines in his face smooth, and the flush on his neck slowly fades.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve been taking anger management classes, but it’s… hard.”

Doyoung’s gaze lands on the puddle of coffee on the table. A small smile appears on his pink lips. “I spilled coffee on our first date, do you remember? I was so nervous; I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.”

You can’t help but smile at the memory, too. You remember stilling his shaking hand and leaning in to kiss him.

“Those were the days, right?” you say, voice distant.

Doyoung’s face becomes serious. “Y/n…I can’t bear to lose you. You’re too important to me. Could we… catch a movie or something?”

Truthfully, you miss him too. Doyoung was your best friend before he was ever your boyfriend. He threw you a graduation party after college, he listened to you cry when your parents divorced.

“We could try being friends. A movie sounds… nice.”

Doyoung’s eyes light up for the first time. He reaches his arms out to embrace you, but you step back.

“I think it’s a little too soon for that,” you say, eyes trained to the floor.

You watch Doyoung’s white trainers shuffle back. “I’ll see you around, Y/n.” And with that, he leaves.

---

Over the next week, you meet up with Doyoung three more times.

Each time, you get more and more comfortable in his presence. His large hands almost stop being the ones that hit you… and go back to just being hands again.

You can tell that Doyoung wants you back. You see the way his eyes linger on your lips and how his hand brushes yours when you’re walking.

But every time that happens, you ignore it. A part of you wants to take him back, but the other part never wants to see him again. He hit you. You’re not sure you can ever forgive him for that.

---

It’s a Saturday evening, and you and Doyoung are on another one of your not-dates.

Seoul was on high alert for a freak snowstorm, so you decided to meet at your apartment to be safe.

You’re sat at the kitchen island, watching Doyoung cook.

His face is splattered with flour, and his pretty pink tongue pokes out as he concentrates on the pasta.

“Dinner’s ready!” Doyoung chimes. “I put extra parmesan on yours, just how you like it.”

You give him a small smile. “This is delicious, Doie. I’ve missed your cooking.”

Doyoung flashes you his signature gummy smile. “You never could resist a bit of cheesiness.”

“Doyoung!” You place your hand on his chest to shove it playfully, but then, you feel the firm outline of his muscles, and his pounding heartbeat.

You realise in one breathless moment, that you don’t want to let go.

Before you have time to regret it, you pull Doyoung towards you.

Then, you kiss him on the mouth.

You begin to move your lips against his, slowly - just tasting, testing. The air gets sucked out the room, and all you can feel is him.

Doyoung doesn’t kiss you any deeper. He’s so afraid that he’ll make the wrong move and scare you away - that this precarious moment might topple off the edge forever. He digs his nails into his thigh.

Your hands trace up Doyoung’s arms, brush across his neck and settle on his jaw. It’s like your fingers have their own homing mechanism for him.

Loving Doyoung is just so easy. Except when it isn’t.

You snap your eyes open and force yourself to pull away from Doyoung. His hair is dishevelled, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“I think you should leave now,” you say, trying to calm your restless heart.

“Y/n… I-” Doyoung starts, but he sees the look on your face and stops himself. “Alright, I’ll go.”

You peer out of the window, gasping when you see that the snow has tripled in the time you were having dinner. Harsh wind whips the snow around like white bullets.

“Doyoung, how are you supposed to walk home in weather like this?”

Doyoung grits his teeth and pulls his coat collar up over his cheeks. “I’ll be fine.”

Doyoung opens the front door a crack, but the wind shoves inside, making the door slam open.

You both exclaim, and Doyoung hauls the door shut. “Hmm… maybe walking in that weather isn’t such a good idea.”

Doyoung stands there, staring. There’s a question on his lips, but you know he’s not going to ask.

“Fine.” You say. “You can stay.”

Doyoung visibly relaxes. “Thank you, Y/n.”

You nerves are suddenly on edge. “You’ll have to stay in the spare room.”

Doyoung nods.

---

You lie in your bed, tossing and turning. You can’t believe that Doyoung is in the next room.

You reach your hand out and touch the mattress where he used to sleep.

“You know what I love about your body?” Doyoung asked, trailing his long fingers down your naked waist.

“What?” you said, shivering at his touch.

Doyoung kissed your neck, then your collarbone, then your chest.

“It’s just so responsive… I could do this all day.”

You shudder at the memory. No. It doesn’t look like sleep will be greeting you tonight.

You slip out of the bed and tip toe into the kitchen. Keeping the light off, you pour yourself a glass of milk and perch on the kitchen counter.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

You jolt at the sound of his voice.

Doyoung is standing at the kitchen door. His black hair is sticking up in all different directions, and his eyes are puffy with sleep.

“Do you… want some milk?” you ask, tentatively.

“Please,” Doyoung says, shuffling towards you.

You stand in a comfortable silence as you sip your drinks. This secret shared moment, with only the watery blue light from the fridge to illuminate you, is almost… intimate.

When you both finish your drinks, Doyoung speaks up. “I guess we better get back to sleep.”

Doyoung walks ahead of you to the corridor. “Good night, Y/n,” he says, opening the door to the spare room.

But before he can step in, you place your hand on his shoulder. “Wait!”

Doyoung stands frozen, eyes wide.

“Do you…” you clear your throat. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” You know you shouldn’t, but you just can’t help yourself.

Not trusting his voice, Doyoung nods once.

You lead him into your bedroom, and slip under the covers. You lie there, side by side, staring up at a crack in the ceiling.

You can feel the warmth from his body next to yours. He’s so close… if you just pushed your arm out it would touch Doyoung.

You reach out your fingers, and gasp when they meet Doyoung’s.

Carefully, you entwine your fingers with his. His skin is so warm, so smooth… before you know it, you shift onto your side to face him.

Your hand moves up to his face, and you cup his cheek. You pull him towards you, and suddenly, you’re kissing again.

Keeping your mouth attached to Doyoung’s, you roll onto your back. Doyoung follows smoothly and shifts on top of you, his hips resting against yours. He kisses you back eagerly now.

The two of you move instinctively, one piece of clothing falling off one after another till you’re both naked - skin to skin.

With your lips pressed against his, you spread your legs and wrap them around his waist. He fits inside you so well, like he was made for you.

Doyoung makes love to you so gently that you could cry. His lips never leave yours – it’s almost magical…

With a soft groan, he flops onto the bed beside you.

The two of you lie still until your breaths quiet.

Doyoung is the first to break the silence. “I still love you,” he whispers.

When you don’t reply, he goes on. “It’s okay, I don’t expect you to say it back. I just… wanted you to know.”

---

You wake up to the feeling of Doyoung’s arm around your waist.

You try to get comfortable, but his grip just feels suffocating. You remember that he’s a man - with a temper - and suddenly you’re scared.

You shove his arm off and sit bolt upright in the bed, panting.

Doyoung rolls onto his back. He rubs his eyes and groans softly. You watch him as he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the next.

When he sees your expression, he sits up, face set in serious lines.

“I can’t do this…,” you whisper. “Us, I mean.”

Doyoung frowns. “Y/n, I-”

Tears flood your eyes. “You… hit me, Doyoung.”

Doyoung hangs his head down in his lap. At least he has the decency not to meet your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. That’s all I can say.” His voice cracks. “Thank you for… trying to give me a second chance.”

You walk Doyoung to the front door. He pulls it open, and only a light sheet of snow dusts the pavement.

Doyoung steps outside. “I will always love you, Y/n.”

Doyoung turns back to look at you, but you’ve already shut the door.

---

MASTERLIST

335 notes · View notes

allandoflimbo · 3 years ago

Text

Ashens (Part 21)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,800

Chapter Warning: Smut. Strong language. Non-consensual elements, but not non-con.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

Too many things have been different lately.

Between the both of you, there had been too many silences just like this, but this time it was different.

It was different because you knew your kiss with Pietro had affected Bucky. This time the silence was because Bucky was upset.

Back at the anti-climatic ball, after your meltdown with Pietro, you both spoke for a few more minutes before you excused yourself. Pietro was disappointed at your sudden departure, but he nodded, not digging any further. Before you’d left he had given you had address and he told you you could stop by whenever you wanted. He reminded you to stay safe with a kiss on your forehead.

He didn’t pry and you appreciated that. You put your ear piece back in and Bucky had taken extra long seconds to reply. The rest of the night his responses were one worded.

You both ended up finding Silas and Ashen’s men by the corner of the bar. You had eavesdropped and was able to confirm that the delivery tonight was for a tested cure for the virus and it was going to be administered to Ashen’s son, Ashens.

It was going to arrive at the back alley way at nine, but it wouldn’t even be administered until tomorrow afternoon. Ashens would be transferred from the tower to his home.

“We’re done here.” Bucky’s voice had come from your ear piece.

“What? We’re barely done.” You responded.

“Tonight is just the delivery. What I’m interested in is tomorrow. I’ll have to stake. Let’s go home.”

“Buck-“

“Meet you back where we were.”

beep.

The short walk to your hotel had been silent. Awkward.

You knew he had heard you. You were glad he did.

He deserved to know you had a choice in this. He also deserved to know you deserved better.

But what bothered you was that you knew the kiss bothered him but he was too proud to admit it to you.

You needed him to tell you. Him glooming was not doing you well.

Bucky had been frozen to the spot as he overheard you on the other end. He could move or breathe as he heard Pietro kissing you, as he heard you moaning for another man.

He could feel the blood pumping in his head along with the sudden feeling of pure regret.

He felt regret at not taking the initiative that he should have. He knows he has no right to feel the way he does right now, but he does. He feels the heartbreak and the jealousy over you kissing someone that wasn’t him.

He had been wanting to the last two weeks. At first, he had held himself back, now allowing himself to go down that path of intimacy, but it had began to get harder.

Bucky was going crazier for you, bit by bit.

He knew what you two had was only physical, and he knows he has no right to feel the way he does especially with how he had pushed you away, but he regrets it all.

He regrets the way he handled it.

What killed him the most about Pietro kissing you though, was the fact that Pietro was clearly a better guy for you.

Something Bucky could never be.

Not that you even wanted him anymore.

It took him two months to finally want you for more than sex and you had moved on.

He couldn’t speak to you. Not when it hurt him so much. Not when you drove him crazy the way you did.

He could still feel his heart beating just as quickly as it had an hour ago. What he felt around you didn’t even compare to how he felt around Daisy.

His relationship with Daisy had been carefree and easy.

You were a hurricane.

He wishes he could tell you everything he’s feeling, but he knows it’s for the best that he doesn’t.

You both take the elevator up to your room, silently. His eyes stays on the floor, his hands in his pockets.

Look at me. You think to yourself. Tell me what you’re thinking.

After walking through the door to your room, you turn around to face him.

You couldn’t see his face. He had been quick to avoid you and he was already turning the other way, making his way towards the bed.

The bed where he took your heart many times and squeezed it his fingers.

Little did you know that you had been doing the same to his.

His silence was overbearing and your heart tore at his facial expression.

He didn’t hold that blank look he usually held when he didn’t want to show emotions.

This time he bared it all for you. His face was fallen and he was trying his best to keep it down.

You hated this silence. You hated the lack of communication that complicated this relationship.

You and Bucky no longer made any sense.

This wasn’t sex without feelings. This was far from it.

You had expected to gain so much more after your kiss from Pietro - freedom and strength. Instead, you felt confused.

He was still quiet and the tension in the loft was thick.

“What are we doing?” You asked breathlessly, breaking the ice and literally mentioning the elephant in the room.

What was this?

You watched as he loosened his black tie from around his neck, pulling it up over his sharp jaw and head.

“I don’t know.” He says quietly. His voice sounds broken, life he was on the brink of giving up.

He sits down gently, and the bed sinks down with him.

He reaches down and removes each of his dress shoes one by one. He does it slowly.

You walk up to him and stare down at him in a clouded daze of mixed emotions.

He’s stopped and reluctantly looked up at you, eyes pausing at your hands for just a moment first.

Your face showed him that you were begging him to communicate, begging him to get off his chest what he needed.

It hurt you that he couldn’t do it.

Again, he was unhappy about your kiss with Pietro and you needed him to tell you why.

Bucky’s eyes fell back to the floor and he blinked away whatever it was.

He pushed off his jacket started unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Go to bed, sweetheart.” He says with heavy emotion in his voice. It almost breaks off at the end with how much feeling he puts into the words.

His term of endearment shocks you to the core. Your heart swells deep within your chest. This is the first time since you’ve met him where he’s ever used this tone and addressed you this way before.

You’re gaping as you watch him continue to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were meticulously. Somehow in a dystopian and near apocalyptic word he still kept his nails trimmed and perfect.

Something so small that could go unnoticed but that said so much about his personality.

You find yourself moving closer until his knee is touching your left leg.

You feel the heat of his body radiating off yours. You reach down and touch his hand, stopping him from unbuttoning.

He stops and swallows hard.

He could feel the heat of your fingers on his own and it makes him ache inside.

What’s happening to me?

“You want to know why I kissed him?” Bucky’s gaze stays on the floor. He doesn’t respond. No I don’t, “I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who didn’t take it for granted. For the first time, I wanted to be the one who made the correct choice,” you let go of his hand, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?” Bucky inhales deeply and returns to undoing the last few buttons. Bucky shakes the shirt off his shoulders and then stands up to go hang it in the closet. He walks right past you, not saying a word. You close your eyes tightly together, “Talk to me.” You beg.

You turn around as he’s hanging the shirt on one of the hangers.

His jaw is tight. You can tell his teeth are clenched and he’s holding whatever he wants to say, in.

He moves onto his dress pants, removing them until he’s in his boxers, and then he pulls out a pair of grey sweats, slipping them on.

He grabs a black T-shirt and puts it on, too.

He walks past you, still not looking at you.

Without thinking, you reach your arm out to grab him, and he stumbles back like you’ve burned him. You’re shocked at his reaction and your eyes go from your hands to his own eyes. Your heart shatters immediately.

He gapes down at your hands and you can see the fear and intense sadness in his eyes.

You take a step closer to him and he gulps as you slowly bring your hand up to run over his hard torso and eventually up the side of his neck. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from trembling.

You look up into his eyes as you play with the short hair on the back of his neck.

“Please.” It’s the first time he’s also begged you in such a small voice. His eyes close halfway as he whispers, “Please, no.”

You feel the need to comfort him; to comfort this man who has done nothing but hurt you the way he’s hurting right now.

You grasp the back of his neck with your whole hand, shaking your head to yourself as you do so. His head hangs low, eyes still closed.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whisper, “what are you so afraid of?” He opens his eyes and looks away from you. He lifts his head and looks out towards the window behind you. He reaches behind his head and takes your hand, pulling it off his skin.

“Please, let’s go to sleep.” He says softly.

You watch in a daze as he spins around and walks down the hall and into the bathroom.

He needed a moment to breathe. He needed a moment to catch his breath and think.

After splashing his face with some cold water and brushing his teeth, he walks back into the room to see you already changed into a pearl colored silk camisole.

The edges graze your thighs as you crawl up the bed and towards your pillow.

The water did nothing to help him.

He still kept hearing the way you moaned as you gave away your first kiss.

All to get a reaction out of him.

Bucky flicks off the remaining light in the loft, his lamp, and crawls into bed next to you.

He pulls the comforter up until it’s halfway up his chest and he pulls at his hair, look up at ceiling and letting out a long breath.

If only you knew the affect you were having on him. If only you knew how much he cared about you.

Your mind was else where than his.

You felt a need for vengeance. You needed him to hurt. Just like you had told Pietro, you couldn’t let him do what he was doing to you anymore. He needed to respect you and if he wasn’t going to own up to his feelings and finally speak to you, you were going to move on.

You had Pietro now, anyway.

So you had a plan.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say quietly, looking out the window.

There’s a long pause before he replied.

“I’m not having sex with you tonight.” He tells you in a quiet voice.

You flip around until you’re staring at him. He’s on his back, looking up at the ceiling, a far away look in his eyes.

How dare he be the only one to make the choice?

You spread your legs a little wider and reached down between your legs. You reached under the band of your underwear and cupped yourself.

You kept staring at the side of his face, silently asking him to look your way. He didn’t budge but you could tell he knew what you were doing. If your soft moan and the shift of the bed was any conciliation.

He blinked and swallowed thickly.

This was all he was good for now. He lost his chance and your respect, and all he was now to you was a human dildo.

As much as he wanted to tell you how he changed his mind about giving it a try and as much as he wanted to tell you how he was starting to feel, part of him was still afraid. He was afraid of his emotions getting in the way and of him losing you.

Especially when you now had a chance to be happy with someone else; someone so much better than him.

As much as he wanted your touch and your caresses, he needed to push you away. Push you into the right direction.

You were hurting him and you didn’t even know it. Him pushing you away when he needed you, pained him.

You let out another moan. He closes his eyes, turning his face away from you.

You were hurting him.

“Please, y/n.” His voice came out in a whimper.

You removed your hand from yourself, half sat up, and looked down at him. He still had that same sad look in his eyes.

Two can play that game.

You sensually dragged your fingers that had just been on your core over his bottom lip. You watch him for a reaction.

His eyes flashed to yours, stunned at your move, and you stared at your fingers on his mouth just as shocked.

Was this what anger pushed you to do? Vengeance?

You found yourself panting as you continued to touch his lips.

Slowly, he grabbed your hand. You could see what was only the lingering of tears in his blues.

There it was.

“You fucked me nearly every day for the last two months. And the one time I want you to fuck me the most, the one time, you say no.” you say quietly. He swallows thickly, “you’ve used my body for two months,” your voice shakes and he blinks, his eyes burning, “I’m just asking you to do it again. As a friend. It’s not that hard, right?”

You could feel your own words hurt in your throat at your words.

You slowly lean down, laying half your body on top of his. He closes his eyes, sucking in a shaky deep breath. You lean down until your face in the crook of his neck, on his pillow.

Bucky gulped at the proximity, feeling his heart race like mad.

“If you can’t say what you want to say, if you’re too weak for that, you can at least show me using your body.”

You ran that same hand that was touching yourself down his neck and over his chest. You find the bottom of his shirt and you slide your hand underneath, feeling his hot skin.

“I don’t want to do this.” He whispers, pained.

He almost changes his mind when he feels your hand change direction, going under his sweats.

But you stop just below his navel.

As much as you wanted to convince him and push him off the edge, you also didn’t want to breach the line of consent.

Your touch was so gentle it burned through his skin and Bucky took it in. He closed his eyes tightly together, a soft cry leaving the break of his lips.

He was crying.

You lift your face from his pillow, looking down at him to watch.

He wasn’t sobbing but there was definitely tears leaking from his eyes. One drop runs down the far corner of his eye.

He lets out a long shakey breath, still looking up at he ceiling. You feel his left hand grab the back of your head and he rubs your head. You feel his legs widen slightly and you wonder if it’s an invitation for you to continue.

The proximity of your faces shocks you when he turns his head to the side to face you.

You can feel his breath hitting your face. And you lips are only inches apart. You watch him in awe as he continues to rub your head, his eyes searching yours as another tear leaks from his blue orbs.

He rubs his nose against yours, suddenly wanting to give you everything.

When you finally take him in your hand, Bucky’s eyes close together tightly. You give him two slow pumps before you maneuver yourself so you are laying on top of him.

He watches you in a daze like you’re a siren and he’s a pirate who’s been summoned.

You stretch your hands over next to his head, taking his in your own. Your camisole is pushed up to your waist and you sloppily kick off your underwear.

He leans his head up until it’s in the crook of your neck.

“Not like this.” He says quietly. You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. You continue pushing his bottoms down until the back band is under his ass and until you see his length slip out. The tip is already oozing pre cum, now dropping onto his black shirt.

You feel the need to pour all your emotions into this fuck.

You swirl your hips and rub down until your folds are sliding over his tip, the velvety skins touching each other like two pieces if expensive silk.

Bucky involuntarily bucks his hips at the feeling.

You let out a delicious moan.

“What are we without sex, Bucky?” You whisper, breathe hitting off his forehead, “This is all we’re good for, can’t you see that?” You grunt, sliding down until he’s half sheathed inside of you, “You’ve only treated me horribly, since the day I met you. You’ve never once gave me the chance to gain your honor, oh fuck, but this, this you always knew how to take from me, to give me—“

“Stop,” he begs, breathing harshly into your neck.

“You might be a great fuck and a good friend, but you’re not a good person.” You continue to fuck yourself on his rod, rubbing your nose against his as your harsh breaths mingle together, “but that’s okay,” you put your left hand on the side of his neck, rubbing him tenderly there, “you’re good for this.”

A struggled and very loud moan escapes Bucky’s throat and you feel his right hand go to your waist, stopping you.

You put you hand on his, releasing its grip, continuing to move over him.

You watch as more tears fall out of Bucky’s eyes, his eyes snapping to yours.

“You’ve gotta stop.” He whimpers.

You can’t tell if he’s talking about the things you are saying or the fucking, but he’s a super solider and you know that if he was talking about the sex, he would’ve had more than the strength to fully stop you by now.

You purr as you look down between your legs.

“Look how perfect your cock was made for me.” You say. Bucky moans, looking down with you, his own hips pushing up to meet your down stokes, “that’s it. You hate me, don’t you?” Bucky’s hips falter and his eyes snap to your face.

“Wha—“

“That’s right, you do. I deserve this. I deserve your anger, right? Never did anything bad to you a day in my life but I still deserve it.“

Bucky was close to edge seconds ago, but with each word you’re saying, he feels the need to correct you and he no longer want to cum anymore.

This was wrong. Everything about this was utterly wrong.

“You don’t, y/n—“ He tries to tell you before you cut him off again.

You’ve never felt anger like this. Never.

“Fucking fuck me, Bucky. For just one night pretend I’m her, fuck me like I’m her.” Bucky’s heart falls hard into his stomach and he sits up, stopping.

“Stop.”

“Please.” You beg through clenched teeth, “you’ve already made me suffer enough finish the damn job.”

“Stop!” He shouts, grabbing you by the waist and pushing your off of his body.

He looked shocked as he stared down at you, his still wet tears running down his face.

“Are you serious?” You say back to him as he stands up.

He’s running his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands as more tears fall out of his eyes.

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he stares down at you, still at lost for words.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He shouts, stumbling back.

You take a note of how his cock is an angry red, bobbing up against his belly. Catch you, he pulls his boxers and pants up all the way.

“Did I say something that triggered you?” You ask through heavy pants. How does it feel to be on the other end? You want to add.

He’s breathing hard too as he watches you. His face was crest fallen and broken.

He looks you up and down, sniffing.

“You’ve gotta stop this,” he whispers harshly, his volume growing with each word, “whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

“What am I trying to do?”

His face crumbles.

“You’re purposely trying to hurt me!” His yell stuns you, “It’s hurting me!”

You’re both trying to catch your breath as you stare at each other. “All night that’s what you’ve been doing. You think I wanted to hear you kissing him? You think I want to fuck you like this? You think I wish it went down this way?” His voice becomes a whine. He closes his eyes and looks away from you running a hand down his face.

You tilt your head as his last question.

“What went down what way?” He lets out a pained chuckle, “What way, James?”

“Forget it Im sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“What went down what way?!” You shout, banging your fist down on the bed, “You tell me right now or I swear to fucking god, Bucky, I am walking out that door right now and never coming back. I’m giving you a chance right now. Im giving you a chance to make this right.”

Your mini lecture gives him enough time to catch his breath and compose himself. It finally dawns on him and a look of disgust fills his face. He tilts his head at you.

“So that’s what this was? So that’s why you fucked me just now? To persuade me into a fucking guilt trip? This borderline non consensual—”

“—Don’t be dramatic.”

“And then you talk about you feeling used. I’m just a guy, Y/N.”

You both stared each other down. You suck in a deep breath as you take the hair tie from around your wrist and begin to tie up your hair into a bun.

“I’m so fucking over you. I really am. I was lying about the using me for sex part. It’s obviously the only time we ever communicate anyway. I do get that out of it.”

“Yeah that makes me feel so much better,” he reaches down to grab the pillow and before he can take it, you grab it, “give me the damn pillow.”

“Stop closing up on me.”

“Give. Me. The. Pillow.” You don’t budge, “I don’t have the patience for this. Especially after you almost jeopardized our entire mission with your little stunt today. Which was reckless and completely irresponsible by the way.”

“Stunt?”

“Please, you put on a fucking show as you stuck your tongue down his throat just so I could hear and then you turned off your damn ear piece. This is why I’ve always said you’ve always been a girl who acts on emotion. Give. Me the pillow.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes twitched.

“What?”

“That’s not the deal reason you’re upset. You’re upset because I hit a nerve.”

He seethes, looking you up and down again.

“Look. What you did here tonight was the lowest of the low.”

“You don’t communicate.” You say.

“What do you want me to say, sweetheart?”

“I want you to tell me why me kissing him bothered you so much you couldn’t say one damn word to me.”

“It doesn’t matter why it does or doesn’t bother me." “Of course it matters. It means something.” “It means shit. Just because it might bother me on some level it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you from being happy, okay? You want to go ahead and kiss and sleep with other men, that’s you doing you. We were never exclusive.” “Sure so that’s why you overreacted so much —”

“—You didn’t even give me a heads up! We had sex just an hour before you told me you were going on a date with the guy, y/n.”

“And that’s what made you cry?” After that question it goes silent. He avoids your eye and attempts to take the pillow again, “Bucky. Please.”

He licks his lips and looks up at you.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear because it doesn’t matter anymore.” He tries to take the pillow again and this time you let him. He hooks it under your arm.

“Are you going to sleep there because of what I did to you?” He looks up at you and then looks away. He reaches over you to take one of the throw blankets, “Bucky?”

You reach over to touch his face and he flinches at first. This makes you pull away first.

“I didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” You whisper.

He looks down at your lips.

“I might be a super soldier and an ex assassin but I’m still just a man.” He says quietly. You nod, reaching for the back of head, and pulling him into you for an embrace which he gladly accepts, "You can't do that again."

He leans his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your sweet sent.

“Please stay here tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.” He gives your shoulder a kiss, “I’ll stay. I’ll always stay.” He assures you as he feels you trembling beneath him.

He pulls away, cupping your face as he does so. He looks down at you and you share a silent conversation.

This was different.

This time, he’s the one who rolls your dress up until it’s bunched around your waist.

You’re both breathing quickly as you watch him push his sweats and boxers down.

You whimper at the sigh of him, and he guides you a little lower, but you’re still halfway sat up. He runs his right hand from your core up the inside of your left thigh, widening yourself for him.

He’s knelt down between you, his lips still lingering over your shoulder. He grabs your right thigh and pulls it up so it’s bent feet down on the bed. His left hand goes to your back, right over your bottom.

You whimper again when you feel him drag his cock over your clit over and over again, and then finally down your soaking slit. His nose hits the side of yours and you’re both staring deeply into each others eyes.

“I got you,” he tells you, “I got you.” He repeats, sliding into you. His thrusts are steady and hard. He watches your face as you gasp and moan, your right hand going into his hair and pulling on it. You’re both like that for about three minutes until he lays you fully back onto the bed.

He watches as you unravel below him and he can’t imagine not living like this anymore. He doesn’t remember what he even did before you entered the picture. He doesn’t want to.

He stretches his arms around on either side of your head, keeping his thrusts steady.

“Fuck.”

“I won’t stop.” He tells you breathlessly.

You clench around him and this makes him groan loudly.

He feels his end approaching embarrassingly fast and he reaches down to give your clit some flicks.

On the fifth flick you come undone and he follows you right behind, cumming inside of you. Your legs wrap around him like a vice and he falls on of you. Both your hands run through his hair as he breaths harshly into your neck.

He doesn’t pull out of you this time and you don’t let him.

This time he falls asleep in your arms.

For you, it’s the last time.

I won't hide the ways I've tried It's just not right, it's killing me tonight

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe , @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 , @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat

#bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky barnes #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes series #tfatws fanfic #tfatws fanfiction

166 notes · View notes

bokutoslittlebird · 4 years ago

Text

Peter, Paul, and Mary

Alpha!Bokuto x Omega!female!reader x Alpha!Akaashi

Warnings: Omegaverse things [heats, ruts], alcohol, noncon/dubcon [coercion], implied mlm interaction [Bokuto x Akaashi], wlw interaction [Yukie x reader], threesome, fingering, lots of licking, blowjob, biased towards Bokuto, cunnilingus [with Yukie], bit of nipple play, asphyxiation

Kabukichō is well-known for it’s lively nighttime activities, hushed whispers of those who work in those frowned upon businesses. Even if the businesses seem shady, they care about their workers. Whether you’re singing lustful songs amidst a smoking crowd, sinful desires behind a curtain and closed doors, or even looking for a show to go with your dinner, every worker there is doing it of their own will and have safety measures in place to keep that.

There’s one place, down the lantern-lit streets and past the sweaty, common brothel that most people attend. Pink, purple, and red lights flicker and welcome guests into the building, one similar to a large western-styled house. Yet, upon entering, the display is one unlike anywhere else. The host offers services of the Omegas and what is and is not allowed. Tables have poles in the centers, a larger stage that offers seats of two rows, ones who come for a show, and two poles for dancers.

It’s an expensive place, offering brothel rooms for Omegas to service guests for 50,000¥ and even having an available VIP room for 100,000¥ for individuals who want a luxurious show just for them. Dancers can dance behind glass or in a cage, starting at 7,000¥ and can be removed at a few of 10,000¥. Only Omegas are allowed to work as dancers and performers, just as only Betas are allowed to work the kitchen and host positions. Alphas come in for a nice treat, expecting to get a show from their favorite Omega and pay for their services to relieve tension. Some Alphas try to come in during their ruts, but are turned away. This is not a brothel, this is a strip club that offers brothel services.

Working there isn’t as exhausting as it sounds. Tips start at 1,000¥ and can go up to as much as 50,000¥ on a regular night. The nights VIP rooms are reserved, workers find themselves getting tipped luxuriously by rich Alphas and Betas who are looking for a good time. Even someone as simple as you can work there and get a good wad of bills in your pocket, getting to go home and finally sleep after the exhausting night’s work.

Akaashi’s asleep when you get home, but Bokuto’s awake and humming as he cooks his breakfast. The showers at Akai Fukurō wash away all the unfamiliar scents of Alphas, even the ones who asked for brothel services, so he doesn’t seem too concerned as you enter the apartment. “Rough night?”

“Yeah, lots of tables requested me to serve them. Busy and exhausting,” you yawn at the end of your statement, rubbing tired eyes. Bokuto chuckles, a nice and comforting sound after the music of the nightlife.

“Maybe you should request daytime shifts? Graveyard shifts are strange for a waitress, anyways,” his concern shows in his voice, but you smile and wave him off.

“I sleep all day and work all night. I’m not ready to change my schedule anytime soon.” Neither Bokuto nor Akaashi know of your actual job. They think you work at a 24/7 restaurant in Kabukichō and not as a stripper, which is preferable. You don’t think you could bear the thought of them knowing you’re one of the people who sell their body for money. The work is looked down on, so you wouldn’t be surprised if Akaashi and Bokuto had that same state of mind.

“Well, I think you should at least consider it,” he smiles at you, then turns back to the stove. “Want some eggs?”

“Sure!”

The day goes by as they all do, but an unspoken tension hangs in the air. Living with two Alphas is straining, always having to keep your emotions in check so they don’t give into instincts. Even having alone time is rare, with Akaashi mostly working from home when Bokuto is gone. Living with the two isn’t stressful, but your heat cycle lines up with their rut cycles, which forces you three to find alternate living arrangements. You always leave the day before your heat starts, knowing that an Alpha’s instinct can tell if an Omega is ready to breed the day it begins. Even if your cycle begins at 9:00 at night, 9:00 in the morning rolls around and you’ll have Alphas begging to mount you and stuff you full.

Although, you’re not entirely opposed to the idea.

Akaashi and Bokuto are very attractive Alphas and are very loving to you, as if you were family. Your feelings for them were both intense, but you forced those feelings down a long time ago. With the way your job is, having a boyfriend or two is out of the question, which is why you are looking into leaving permanently. It hasn’t come up to either of the boys, but you might have to live with Yukie or at the club. They do offer rooms for Omegas, whether they need to freshen up or can’t be at home for personal reasons.

When Akaashi enters the kitchen, you find yourself slinking away. Bokuto’s scent gets stronger, just as Akaashi’s does. Their ruts are going to start soon, so they’re practically at each other’s throats. Despite their close friendship, your existence in their lives can change their demeanor when it comes to their ruts. Akaashi doesn’t talk, but he does nod and slightly bow to both you and Bokuto while he makes his morning tea. With the breakfast finished, you’re off to your bedroom to get some shuteye, knowing your upcoming week will involve lots of hours being awake and active.

Akai Fukurō has security for all their Omegas and safety is their priority. An Omega in heat can still work, but they become more vulnerable to pregnancy that can risk damage and harm to the relationships outside and inside of the club. Simple means to prevent pregnancy are optional, but there is always a possibility of it not working. The only effective method is not having Omegas offer brothel services while in heat.

The rooms on the second floor are completely brothel rooms, but the rooms on the third floor offer a room to stay in for the Omegas. However, similar to the dance stages, each brothel room has the ability to separate it with glass. Separation between the bed and the couch, where guests sit back and can watch the show. On the other side of the glass, an Omega presents themself on the bed and pleases themself while encouraging the guest to do the same. However, the fee for this situation is merely 35,000¥, with an extra 10,000¥ if there are two Omegas behind the glass. Putting on a show for the guest, two Omegas will pleasure themselves and each other and will accept requests of what to do and still can receive tips.

Most Omegas who engage in these activities are those with a close friend working there or coworker who is trusted. Yukie is the one who brought you here, so you both become highly requested during shows of this type. You’ve learned to be much more submissive while letting someone else take the reins, while Yukie has learned to take control every once in a while. An Omega such as you and Yukie need to be stimulated during the heat cycle, so it would make sense to have a safe alternative than have an Alpha or Beta take care of such vulnerable Omegas.

With it being the day of your heat, you’ve left the apartment and settled into the room you’ll be staying in for the week. Yukie rooms with you, her own luggage on her side. She lives with two Betas, so she only stays here for her own pleasure. When the fire of your heat settles deep in your gut, the slick pooling in your panties, you’re aware of the position you’re in. Your heat has officially begun and you need to take your stance in the brothel room. Once you’re in and have positioned yourself on the bed, Yukie follows in behind you with her heat soon about to begin. When she wraps her arms around you and her lips find yours, you can smell the beginning of her own heat. The familiar sound of the glass shield rising from the ground is in the back of your mind, only white noise, as your hands find themselves delving into her pink panties. The glass clicks into place, the pink light coming on and the door opening to have an Alpha enter the room. Settling down on the couch, he has a drink beside him as he watches with interest the scene playing out before him.

With the door officially being locked, the pink lights dimming as a low red joins them, you’re being pushed back on the bed and Yukie’s hands are diving into your own panties. Her hand works its wonders, your easily stimulated nerves finding the friction they so desperately crave. Your hand is removed from her panties, your nails digging into the sheets of the bed. A few rubs on your drenched clit, two fingers sliding up and down before diving into your pussy and suddenly you’re crying out for her touch even more, tears beading on your eyelashes. Licking her lips, you can tell her own heat has started, pulling her face to yours as you mesh your lips together. She moans into your mouth, breaking the kiss and putting her fingers in your mouth, letting your tongue lap at your own juices coating them.

Yukie’s heat has finally begun, so you lay her down and press kisses down her skin, tongue lapping at the sweat from the intense scent and heat of the room. Her eyes are focused on the Alpha in front of her, his hard cock in his hand as he pumps it, groaning. She smiles, then blows him a kiss, only to be broken with a moan as your tongue swipes over her folds. She’s just as soaked as you, practically dripping with slick as your lips press kisses to her folds, tongue flicking against the hot skin occasionally. Her plea of ‘more’ has your lips clasping around her clit and sucking, getting her to tug at your hair, only to let go and hold onto the sheets, one hand tugging and grabbing at her breast. Using your tongue to dive into her pussy and swipe along her folds, lips sucking on her clit, she’s absolutely lost in bliss from you just using your mouth. The introduction of two of your fingers in her has her back arching, crying out your name as she releases over your face. Removing your fingers, you use them to wipe any excess off and let her taste herself, her moaning around your fingers before you remove them and press your lips to hers once more.

Back home, Bokuto and Akaashi find their own ruts hitting hard and fast. Akaashi goes into your room to grab your dirty laundry you left behind, as he promised to wash them before you got back. The scent of your unwashed clothes is too much for the Alpha, his cock springing to life as he notices the black, lace panties on the top. Picking them up is wrong, but you’re not here and he can wash away his scent. He imagines what you’d be like, wearing those panties for him and begging for his cock, only him. It’s almost too much, him leaving your dirty clothes behind as he takes the panties with him, entering his room only to slam the door. Behind the door, he doesn’t lock it, too focused on stripping himself down bare as he inhales your scent, lingering on the panties. He’s so focused on your panties and rubbing his cock, the front door opening is ignored and he finds himself falling into the daydream and fantasy of you spreading your legs, whining for his cock. The mental image of your cunt dripping, desperate for him and all he can give you has his hand moving faster, a groan as he finally reaches his end, coming into his hand. Looking down, he separates his fingers to watch the liquid drip down onto his thigh and floor. Coming down from his high, he finally notices a different scent on your panties, pushing them back to his nose.

Bokuto went out for a jog, arriving home just before his rut hits. With the collar, he’s able to suppress his scent in public so he doesn’t disturb strangers, but that doesn’t help hold his rut back. Sniffing the air, he smells faint traces of you, his sadness immediate when he remembers you’re gone. But he can smell Akaashi — deep into his rut. Passing by your room, Bokuto finds himself needy and dives into the room, shutting the door and locking it behind him. Taking off the collar, he lets his scent envelop your room as he lays himself down on your bed, stuffing his nose into your pillows. Your scent is strongest there, getting his cock hard as he whines, pulling down his shorts and boxers, large hand grasping his cock as he inhales more of your scent. He’s sure Akaashi’s indulging in his own fantasies of you, but he quickly pushes that away and focuses on a common fantasy of his — you begging for his cock while he drills himself into you. It’s such a common fantasy of his, but he loves imagining how tight you’d be, how loud you’d be, how you would wiggle your hips and cry out for more, desperate for more of him. Rolling his eyes into his head, he’s soon spilling his cum against your sheets, chest heaving as he imagines what it’d look like with his cum oozing out of you, how you’d whine for more. It’s enough to have him gritting his teeth, ready to go once more.

The weekend after your heat cycle, you’re heading back to the apartment with triple the amount of money you usually get from working the week. Yukie bid you adieu, going to her own home and sending you off with a prayer your roommates will be finished with their own cycles. The crisp morning air was nice, the beginnings of Autumn and a new volleyball season, meaning Bokuto would be busier in the upcoming weeks. Remembering how bright and cheerful he was whenever you came home, it made your chest ache. He wouldn’t be cooking breakfast when you got home and Akaashi wouldn’t be making the three of you breakfast before you head off to work anymore.

Once the haze from your heat settled, you confessed to Yukie that you were planning on getting a new apartment. Somewhere close to work, but you didn’t want to live with Bokuto and Akaashi anymore. She told you that she’d be there for emotional support, telling you that if they gave you a hard time then she’d send Kaori and Konoha over there to knock in some sense. Despite their status as being below your roommates, Bokuto and Akaashi listened when Konoha and Kaori scolded them. It hasn’t happened since Bokuto tried to jump you, with his rut beginning earlier than expected, but you hope it won’t ever happen again.

The lack of Bokuto and Akaashi’s scent outside the complex told you their ruts had ended. Sighing with relief, you unlock and push open the door, revealing a wrecked apartment living room. A common scene to come home to, seeing as Bokuto and Akaashi are both territorial Alphas that end up finding themselves trying to establish dominance over each other. You’ve never witnessed their relationship go beyond a close friendship, but a part of you is curious to see just how territorial they can get — or how rough they are with each other.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you move to your room, only to find it occupied. Bokuto lays on your bed, hidden under the covers but no doubt naked, with Akaashi curling into his chest. It’s such a sweet scene, you immediately take out your phone to snap a picture at them. With the dark of your room, the flash activates and wakes both of them up, you whispering curses to yourself while trying to apologize. “Sorry! You guys just look so sweet together, didn’t mean to wake you guys up,”

“‘S fine.. how are you?” Bokuto grumbles out, moving to turn towards you but stopping, adjusting himself properly and removing himself from Akaashi. Soon enough, his arms are wrapping around yours. It’s peaceful, holding him in your arms while he tries to wake up from his slumber. “You smell weird,”

“I’ve been with Yukie. She’s probably still on me,” you lie. You took a shower after your heat, so the scent is probably the sleazy Alphas you were passing on your way out. “By the way, why are you guys in my room?”

“Mm.. missed you,” he responds, before shoving his nose deeper into your neck. The bed moving takes your attention away, eyes catching on Akaashi who goes to hug you as well. You laugh at him, finding them both to be quite adorable so early in the morning. It isn’t until Akaashi pulls away and leaves the bed do you notice that something is around his neck.

“‘Kaashi, what’s that?” You point to your own neck, but Akaashi just shuts the door and locks it. “Um, Akaashi?”

“One of our collars. We didn’t want to scare you away,” he finally responds, moving closer to you. Out of curiosity, your fingers go down to Bokuto’s neck to find his own collar in place. If they have on their collars, it means that you can’t smell their full scents, just a watered down version.

They could still be in their ruts and you wouldn’t know.

“Oh— Oh my god, I-I have to go,” you get out, panic laced in your voice. Trying to get up from the bed, you find yourself pulled back onto the mattress with Bokuto’s arms wound tightly around you. “Bokuto, please, let me-”

“When were you gonna tell us you wanted to leave?” His voice is no longer tired, but rather he sounds angry and sad, wounded. “I found the different apartments you were looking at. They’re all single bedroom apartments, which means you’re trying to leave,”

“That’s— I didn’t know.. how to tell you,” You confess. “I felt it was better for me to leave, so I have been looking for apartments. I’m only here because I needed help with bills, but I don’t need the help anymore, so-”

“Because you’re a stripper.” Akaashi’s voice scares you, the lack of emotion. Panic once more runs through you, attempting to flee Bokuto’s grasp but he holds you firm. “Your clothes have a faint trace of other Alphas. Your graveyard shift is because the clubs are open at night. The large amount of money you have in your dresser tells me the truth,” he continues. You attempt to refute, but he continues, making your heart drop. “I thought you were better than that.”

Before you can say anything, Bokuto beats you to it. “We can take care of you. We’re your Alphas, y’know? It upsets me that you’ve been whoring yourself out to others. How many Alphas have been inside you, huh? I wanted to be your first, little Omega. Now I have to clean you of those Alphas’ stench,” Bokuto growls out, keeping one arm firm around you while the other leaves. Struggling is futile, but the familiar click of the collar coming off makes you cough from the intensity of his scent.

Your worst fear came true: he’s in his rut.

Mixed with his arousal is anger and sadness, but you try to close your nose with your fingers to not smell him, feeling your own slick begin to coat your folds. Akaashi’s collar is soon coming off, his scent just as overwhelming as Bokuto’s as he hooks his fingers into your shorts. “Please understand us, [Y/N]. We just want to show you why you need to stay with us. We love you and don’t want anything bad to happen to you,”

“Akaashi, no, we can’t, this is wrong—”

“What’s wrong? Having two loving Alphas? Them wanting to protect you? Don’t hurt our feelings, [Y/N]. We know how you look at us, but you don’t need to hide your feelings anymore. You don’t have to choose, you can have both of us,” Bokuto murmurs, lips against your scent glands. Nudging his nose against your neck, he licks a hot stripe against your skin. “We can take care of you,”

“Just give into it,” Akaashi says. His tone is comforting, no longer void of emotion. Eyes shine with love in them, a gentle smile on his face as he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “We’ll make you feel good,”

“Please don’t leave us,” Bokuto says once more, his hold around you tightening. You heave a sigh, nodding as you relax your muscles. Both Alphas take that as their cue to continue with their ministrations. Akaashi has your shorts and panties off in an instant, Bokuto’s thick fingers rubbing at the sensitive skin between your legs. You find yourself relaxing into Bokuto’s hold, soft moans as he rubs your clit and brushes his finger against your opening, but he doesn’t push it in. No, Akaashi uses his long fingers to push into you, rubbing against your sensitive inner walls. A squirm here and there, but you pant heavily as he loosens up your walls, his lips pressing to your chest above your shirt. It was just a easy set of clothes to put on, some shorts and a t-shirt to get home in and sleep. The material is in their way, though, Bokuto’s fingers removing themselves from your clit and both of his hands tugging st the shirt.

“I can get-” you begin, only to be cut off by the material being ripped.

“No need,” Bokuto grunts, completely ripping the fabric off of your body. Now bare to both of them, you find your inner thighs coated in your arousal, Akaashi’s fingers removed as he licks them clean.

“Do you want to go first, Bokuto-san?” He offers, sitting in his heels. Bokuto gets eager, flipping you both over so he’s on top of you. “Remember, no knotting, Bokuto-san,”

“I know, ‘Kaashi,” he chirps, licking the sweat off your skin as he rubs his hard cock against your drenched folds. Akaashi sits beside you, guiding your head to his own hard cock, eager for attention. “We can save that for her next heat, right?”

“Mhm, since she’ll be spending it with us,” Akaashi’s hand caresses your cheek, smiling down at you. “Isn’t that right? We can still invite Yukie if you want, but we’re all about you, darling,” his hand moves up your cheek, into your hair and grabs the strands, tugging your head back. “Open wide,”

Akaashi pushes your open mouth on his cock, forcing you to take quite a bit so quickly. His tip hitting the back of your throat has you gagging, but soon you’re moaning as Bokuto inches himself into you. “Ah, you feel so good..” he moans, licking his lips. “It’s better than I imagined,” his hips buck involuntarily as he says that, hands gripping your hips as he forces himself to not force his entire length into you. Although you’re sure he wouldn’t be bigger than what you’ve had before, his girth and his continuous push into your cunt has you seeing stars, moaning around Akaashi as your eyes roll back. Bokuto’s knot is pushed against your entrance, but it doesn’t go in. He sighs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your back before he rears his hips back only to slam them against your ass, your hands flying out to hold onto Akaashi’s thighs as you jerk forward.

Bokuto and Akaashi don’t say much, both too focused on their respective holes. Akaashi keeps one hand in your hair, setting the pace as your tongue rubs against the underside of his cock and flicks over his slit. His other hand wipes at the tears cascading down your cheeks, eyes locking onto yours as he smiles, bring his hand to your nose and clamping down on it, preventing air from getting to your lungs. He doesn’t keep it there long, just enough to feel your throat constrict. With Bokuto thrusting into you, you need all the air you can get as he knocks the air out of your lungs. Akaashi doesn’t want you collapsing on them, letting you off his cock as you gulp down air and moan, pushing your ass back against Bokuto’s hips.

Bokuto is too focused on your body and indulging in his instincts to even acknowledge Akaashi right now. He lets groans and praises spill from his lips as they press into your shoulder, back, neck, anywhere they can reach. Hands tightly grip your hips, trailing from them to your breasts and pinching or tweaking the nipples, a stinging pain in his hips each time they slam against your skin, but he doesn’t care. He’s much too into it, eyes rolling as his hips buck and rut into your heat, tongue wetting his lips each time you let out a particular mewl, popping off of Akaashi to let them hear it. It just pushes him further, his cock getting thicker inside you before he’s whining out, telling you he’s gonna stuff you completely full of his seed.

With one more sharp thrust, Bokuto’s spilling himself into you, moaning as he ruts against the skin. The sensation of his cock completely still in you as his cum spills in has your walls clamping around him, making him hiss as you cream around his cock. You mewl around Akaashi, rolling your eyes back and catching the blush tinting his cheeks. Soon, your oxygen is cut off and Akaashi is forcing you completely down on his cock, save for the knot, letting out a perfect moan of his own while he paints your throat white.

Once the high has settled down, you’re lying on the bed, exhausted, with Bokuto’s arms around your waist. But Akaashi still has energy. “It’s my turn to indulge, darling. I’ve been holding myself back, so I hope you’re prepared,” the smirk accompanying his statement has your pussy clenching, Bokuto’s cum oozing from it and staining the sheets.

Author’s Note : Strip clubs in Japan are in the red light district (in Tokyo) so Akaashi works in Tokyo and Bokuto is a member of the MSBY Black Jackal which resides in Tokyo. I changed the canonverse so they could live in the same place to make things easier [I didn’t want to change Bokuto’s occupation] ; This is more than what was requested however the request gave me the excuse to write out a previous fantasy/daydream I’ve had with a few tweaks. So, thank you for requesting anon-chan ; brothels and strip clubs in Japan are different from the ones in America, so this involved a bit of imagination and research. The brothel/strip club hybrid is called Akai Fukurō which translates to Red Owl (get it bc it’s in the red light district? And BokuAka are owls? I’ll see myself out)

#BB.Kinky #BB.Dark #haikyuu smut #tw.alcohol #tw.noncon #haikyuu omegaverse #Mr. Kōtarō #Mr. Keiji #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #tw.dubcon #cw.brothel #cw.strip clubs #BB.Requests #Bokuto.Spice #Akaashi.Spice #haikyuu x reader smut #BB.🐾

557 notes · View notes

truglori · 4 years ago

Text

Game Night...

(Heads I win...Tails you lose)

Synopsis: Game night at Erik’s crib with a twist...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Plus size OC

Warning: Language, Smutt

A.N- Inspiration was this picture

It was Game Night at Erik’s. He held them every other Saturday night and it was starting to become a ritual for Kaila to attend within the last month. When being surrounded by coworkers ,who became good friends, food, drinks, and music how could anyone turn down a time like this. Along with his beautiful luxurious bachelor’s pad Erik made a pretty good host.

Everything from wings with different flavors, a meat and cheese board, warm soft cinnamon pretzel bites, chicken and beef quesadillas, as well as different chocolates and chilled high class wine ,that Kaila wasn’t used to, had covered his antique walnut wooden dining table. Like she thought, he was a great host who had great taste and wasn’t cheap at all.

Standing in front of the miniature buffet with an empty plate Kaila was indecisive on what to get and how much. Still fresh to the friend group she was conscious on how much she ate in front of people that she wasn’t really comfortable with yet. Out of the six times she’s been here this was only her second time eating with them after getting pressured by her cubicle buddy ,Celina, telling her to make a plate before everything was gone.

Hearing the chatter coming from the livingroom, Kaila decided on a few slices of the quesadillas instead of the wings. She didn’t want to look like a pig knowing that she would try to suck the sauce off of her fingers afterwards. Filling up her red plastic cup with the cool wine she headed back into the huge living area. Spotting her purse and coat she sat in her spot and cuddled up with her belongings.

“See I told you, the food is good.” Celina smiled while sipping on her wine. She brought a hand to her hair stroking the box braids and giggled.

Kaila noticed that she had three cups prior so she knew that she was starting to become loose.

Laughing with her, Kaila shook her head and dug into her finger food. Looking at the small group she wondered how she was able to fit in with them. The group consisted of three women and three guys, Erik including as one of them. Every single person in their clique was extremely attractive and in shape. Her body type did not belong at all. There was always rumors going around the office about them setting up date nights to throw orgy parties. At least that’s what people assumed because they were so tight and never invited anyone else.

But Kaila had to take a chance and ask, since her desk buddy was a part of the famous group. So one day she asked Celina if it was true only to earn one of the most hysterical laughs in her face. She shut it down immediately and informed her the reason behind their closeness was because they all trained and got hired for their jobs at the exact same time and have been inseparable since.

Celina thought it was funny and invited her out so she could see that she wasn’t lying. Kaila refused the first few times but gave in after Celina had another one of their members, Leah, tag team against her insisting that she’d come. Kaila wasn’t an extrovert at all. Her regular day included work, talking on the phone with her baby sister who was away for college, and tv time with her cat, Snuggles.But she wanted to change that so she made Game Night at Erik’s a part of her weekend routines.

“Y’all mufuckas ready to get this bitch started.” Erik walked in finally making his presence known after being upstairs for half an hour. He was changed out of his work attire into something more relaxed. Nike grey sweats, a crisp white tshirt with his gold chains falling over it, and his Nike slides to match. His dreads were out of the braids that he only kept in while he was at work, now they were wild and free.

Kaila took in his frame. She watched as his muscles flexed from the slightest movements. Twisting open his personal bottle of Hennessy, she watched him take a long swig and shaking his head at the taste afterwards. She did a short giggle when she seen him hiss making his gold canines show. When Erik’s eyes turn to her direction she quickly averted her gaze to everyone else praying that she didn’t get caught staring.

This crush that she had for him was starting to be too much. At first she thought it would go away once she would find out that his body and personality didn’t mix but it became worst when she started to hang out with them. Erik was nothing like how she thought of him to be. Before hand she for sure figured him out as a smug and arrogant jerk but he was the total opposite. He was such a gentleman, sweet, and a charmer when it came to the ladies.

The littlest things he did like hold the door for her, or making sure that she wasn’t the last one going into a building whenever they went out for lunch to grab coffee. Kaila was falling for all of it. But after hanging out with them for so long Kaila noticed a few things about him. Yes, Erik was a sweetheart but he had a rough edge to him. When the drinks were in his system Erik liked to talk his shit, and he was nasty with it too. Of course all of the girls in the group would openly let him know that he could fuck if he wanted to. All except Kaila, she would never make a statement as bold as that no matter how much alcohol she had.

“About time nigga. The hell was you doing back there?” One of the guys, Tyler asked sitting in between Leah’s legs on the floor.

“My shit, my business bitch ass nigga.” Erik retorted playfully. He walked in front of his coffee table sitting in his chair. On the table had a display of all types of games. He sorted through them taking his time.

“Erik hurry up and pick a gamee.” Celina whined as she still sipped.

Glancing up he eyed everyone briefly. “The fuck is it, rush Erik night or sumn shit. Y’all niggas know without this y’all wouldn’t have shit else to do so calm the fuck down for I throw all y’all ass out.” He laughed drinking out his bottle.

“Hold up I didn’t say shit. I hope that’s not for everyone.” The thick dark skin girl who’s name was Keisha came in and sat down. Kaila thought she was the prettiest.

“Nah not you Keisha, you know you my boo.” He smirked.

She giggled doing the “period” motion with her hand. Kaila smiled sitting her plate on the floor beside her making a mental reminder to throw it away before she leaves.

Erik cleared his throat picking up a box. “Aight I got one. Do or Drink!” Sitting the other games to the side he placed the box in the middle.

Groanes and curses came from the other people. Kaila faced them amused with their reaction wondering what was wrong with the game he chosed.

“No Erik you always pick this game.” Leah flopped her hands to the side of her.

“Yeah I don’t like this one bae. You be making everybody drink and get drunk while playing this. Can we play something else.” Keisha sighed picking up her glass.

“No y’all only get drunk cause y’all mufuckas don’t know how to drink or hold ya liquor. Besides she ain’t never played this with us yet.” He spoke sorting the cards.

All of the attention went towards Kaila. Trying her best to shrink in her side of the couch she felt her cheeks heat up. Kaila hated when she was put on the spotlight in front of everybody. Bringing her cup to her mouth she sipped some hoping to calm her nerves.

“Kaila you ain’t never played this with us?” Troy asked.

Shaking her head she smiled timidly. “No but I guess I will tonight.”

“Kaila the game is real simple, all you have to do is draw a card, read it aloud so that everyone can hear you and you can either choose to do what it says or drink instead. Don’t worry about all that extra shit. Got it?” Erik asked her shuffling the deck.

“Yeah I got it.” She answered softly.

When he eyed her up and down part of her had to clenched her thighs to keep the wetness she felt down there from damping her panties and the other part wanted to run away from his gaze. The way he looked with his dreads covering his eyes was so enticing and it had her excited. Something she haven’t felt with a man in almost two years.

There was an order on how the rotation went. It was Celina, Keisha, Troy, Tyler, Leah, Erik, and lastly Kaila. She was okay with going last just to see how the game was to be played. It was easy to catch on to after the first few turns. Some of the draws that Kaila picked up were to risky for her so she had to drink for not doing them. Because she didn’t drink hard liquor Erik allowed her to take shots of the wine but for everyone else it was either tequila or some of his Hennessy. She was definitely starting to feel warm from the drinking she’s been doing.

Now it was going on the second round and it was Leah’s go,she had to draw a card. “Okay it says let the group go through your phones photo gallery for 60 seconds. Do this or take two shots?” She threw her card down looking for the shot glass.

Erik jumped up from his seat. “Unh uh hand it over. You passed the last time. Gimme your fuckin phone.” He chuckled walking near her.

Kaila laughed watching Leah try to keep her phone away from him but failed due to his tall and bulky stature taking it clean straight out of her hands. He held the IPhone to her face unlocking it and went to her gallery. Erik’s eyes went from entertained to lustful within seconds. Sucking in his bottom lip he glanced back at Leah.

“Damn girl. Yo shit pretty as fuck.” His low voice crept throughout the room. His eyes traveled down to her covered area.

Kaila, knowing what he was referring to, felt herself get jealous and turned on at the same time. She wanted him to look at her like that and speak to her the same way but she was to shy to say anything.

“Nigga let me see.” Tyler hopped up standing next to him. His mouth dropping when he saw whatever that was on the screen. “Damn Leah.”

Rolling her eyes Leah snatched her phone from their view. “Okay y’all niggas not bout to be fantasizing over my pussy.” She sat back on her end of the couch.

Erik shook his head walking to his chair. Picking up a card he read silently before trying to pick a new one. Celina sat up when she saw him and called him out.

“Uh Erik you never skip cards. What you doing baby boy?” She sat on the edge.

Erik smack his lips. “Nah not that one. Plus it’s my shit I could do whatever I want.” He spoke lowly going to the next card.

Keisha got up walking over to him. “No let me see the card because I ain’t never seen you skip one a day since I met you.” She tried picking it up but Erik snatched it away.

“Chill Keisha, watch out.” He grabbed her wrist lightly.

Keisha laughed. “Boy stop playing with me and let me see.”

Distracted by her going back and forth with him Erik wasn’t aware of Celina sneaking around the other side of him and successfully grabbing the card. She ran behind the couch and read it.

“Let’s see why Stevens was act like a pussy.” She slurred her words. “It’s says motorboat the person to the right of you for 15 seconds, even if they don’t have boobs. Do this or take three shots?”

Everyone looked to the right of him. Sitting at the end of the couch left only one person, Kaila. For the second time that night all eyes was on her. She wished that she could find a hole to crawl in and just die but that wasn’t possible for her. Hearing Celina read the card had her wishing that she would have just left it alone when he skipped the first time. She was embarrassed but she didn’t know if it was because the card dared him to put his face in her titties or that he wanted to skip the turn.

“Celina sit your drunk ass down and just leave the card alone.” Leah grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

“Oops sorry.” She burped putting the card back.

There was silence for a few minutes. For almost the whole night Kaila skipped her turn or declined when someone had to do something to her causing them to lose. She didn’t want to be the party pooper of the hour so she spoke up.

“You can do it if you want.” Her voice coming out lightly. Avoiding the stares from the others her eyes stayed on Erik’s.

His brows lifted up surprised. “Look don’t let Celina’s drunk ass pressure you into something you not down for Kaila.” The way he said her name made her squirm and Erik peeped it himself.

“She wasn’t but if you don’t want to I get it-“ She stopped her sentence when he stood up from his chair.

His body was now in front of hers. Kaila couldn’t help quickly glancing at the print that stuck out through his sweats. The feeling of his hand under her chin tilted it up startled her a bit.

“You wanna do this out here or we can go somewhere private? It’s up to you.”

The room was now quiet as everyone watched the two under the influence and yet still drinking from their cups. Kaila nodded as she stood up signaling that she would rather do it somewhere not in front of them. Stepping to the side she went in front of him and felt his hand on the small of her back.

“Don’t take longer than 15 seconds.” Celina laughed sticking her tongue out when they briefly looked back at her.

Kaila looked around aimlessly as Erik led her down his dark hallway. The only thing that could be seen was the faint wall art from the infrequent lightening outside that came through his windows due to the rainstorm they were going to have tonight. The closer they were to their destination the more the butterflies in Kaila’s stomach start to appear one by one.

“Here we are.” Erik pushed a tall black door opened revealing his master bedroom.

Kaila didn’t stop her eyes from wondering as she looked around. The theme color to his room was black and red. His king sized bed was placed in the middle with a Versace Medusa logo cover resting on top. Laying on the ground next to it was a large black and gold Persian rug. But what caught her attention was the wide mirror that was over his bed.

“You have a nice room Erik.” She sent him a light smile standing in the middle of the floor.

Erik closed his door with the weight of his body. He smirked watching her stand there timidly barely keeping eye contact with him. Erik knew that Kaila had some sort of crush on him but he never said anything about it because he didn’t want to embarrass her. She was always shy around him but was okay with talking to everyone else in the group. Erik couldn’t stand that shit. Watching her round face give her sweet smile to Troy and Tyler always made him jealous. He wanted to be the one to put it on her face but could never get the chance with her always running away from him.

Before she became a part of their group Erik already noticed Kaila around the office. The curve of her wide hips and thickness of her thighs that she would cover up lured him into her. There would be days when she wasn’t wearing her turtleneck and he could finally get a peak at her smooth and chocolate double D’s along with a whiff of her perfume. Erik’s mouth would began to salvitate as he became curious wondering how they would taste. Now he had the chance.

“Thank you. I appreciate that baby.” He chuckled walking to stand in front of her.

Kaila’s eyes averted down at the new pet name. Looking back up, his russet eyes met her chestnut colored ones. His teeth held the full bottom flesh between them. The moment she inhaled for the first time with their closeness Kaila smelled his cologne that sent signals down to her vagina. She could feel the sticky wetness that he was created and he hadn’t even touch her. Her chest rose and fell as her breath hiked up.

“So you ready? It’s only 15 seconds.” The sound of his deep voice had her doing kegals on an imaginary dick.

“Yeah let’s do this.”

The sudden movements of his hands going up to her breast spooked her. Wearing an off the shoulder ribbed dark grey long sleeve tub top Kaila was able to feel his fingertips against her skin. She did a soft moan from the contact hoping that he didn’t hear.

“Big ass fucking titties.” Erik spoke out loud not caring if she heard him or not.

He began to grope them. Bringing his hands to the cuff of them he played with her breast. Lifting them up and down. All of a sudden he was like a kid in a candy store. Kaila could feel her nipples harden on his hands, that frequently rubbed against them. She bit her lip.

Erik smirked watching her get aroused in front of him. He could feel the pebbles turning into rocks from his touch and when he saw her suck on her bottom lip his dick jumped. Wasting no time he lifted her breast up and dove straight in face first. With the combination or her soft titties and her scent Erik’s dick started to get rock hard. He knew then that he now wanted to add titty fucking to the list of nasty shit he wanted to do to her.

“Mm.” Kaila tried her best hide her moan. She didn’t want him to think she was a prude for moaning at something as little as this. It was all a part of a game for goodness sake, but she couldn’t help it. Reaching up she gripped his dreads holding on to him while he moved his head side to side.

The fifteen seconds was long and over with but he was still down there. What was only supposed to be a quick playful motorboat session turned into love bites and delicate sucks. Erik took his time placing a kiss on to each breast. Tracing his tongue over them and then giving a soft suck. He could hear her trying to suppress her moans, but he was working for them and wanted to hear them clearly.

Reaching behind her he slid his hands around her thick waist and then traveled down to her ass. Gripping her cheeks roughly through her leggings he pulled her body into his pressing her down on his thick and solid member. Still continuing his sucks on her breast he groaned hearing her give in.

“Erikk.” Kaila felt the flutters in her stomach and her toes curl when she felt his package bump her area.

“Hmm?” He was now moving up to her exposed neck never losening his grip on her ass.

“The game.” Her words came out as a whine.

“Fuck it. You can’t tell me you not tryna let me fuck right now. Letting me suck on you and shit. I know you wet as fuck down there.” The confidence he spoke with had her dripping even more.

Kaila brought her hands up to his biceps. She turned her head to give him more space to kiss. Squeals left her mouth every time he would grip her cheeks separating them. Kaila wanted to submit badly but was still undecided as she worried about the others listening to what could happen in this room.

Erik pulled away from her seeing that she was hesitant. That’s when an idea popped into his head. His dick was too hard for him to leave without feeling any type of warmth. Going into his nightstand he found the coin and flipped it before walking back to her.

“Alright I have this coin here that’ll decide on what I can receive from you. Since you’re so worried about that dumb ass game out there. We can play our own.”

Kaila’s knitted with confusion but she was curious.

“What type of game?” Her soft voice asked.

Erik licked his lips as she watched hers move. He tugged on her lower lip with his thumb and index finger before showing her the coin and handing it to her.

“If it flips on head I get some pussy and if it flips on tails I get some head. You down?” Stepping in her space he bent his head kissing on her neck. She was so soft to him and it was hard for him to stop.

Kaila observed the gold naughty coin. She never tried anything like this in her 24 years of living. It was new and exciting and with Erik being the person behind it tempting her, she wanted to give it a chance.

“Okay. You flip?” She handed the coin back rubbing her sweaty palms up and down her black leggings.

Taking the coin he strolled over to his bed. Sitting on the edge of it he patted the space next to it offering her a seat. Kaila worked up the nerve to walk over from the liquid courage that she was feeling from the wine. It was making her feel frisky and horny all in one. She sat next to him and smiled sheepishly.

Erik leaned back and smirked. He wrapped an arm behind her as he got ready to flip the coin. “Heads I win...Tails you lose.” He chuckled as she understood the double meaning.

He tossed it up just a few feet above them and caught it quickly with the same hand.

“Hold your hand out.” He demanded and placed the coin flat on her palm. There was a pause for a few seconds before he lifted his hand. It landed on tails.

“Hope you know how to suck some dick.” He reached his hand behind her smacking her ass.

Kaila got up and stood in front of him. Rolling her eyes at his cockiness she pulled her braids up into a bun wrapping them around to keep them out of the way. She pushed him back causing him to lean on his elbows. Getting on her knees he started to rock his leg side to side. Tugging at his sweats she pulled them down along with his briefs making his semi-hard long and girthy length pop out. From the size alone Kaila got intimidated know that if he knew how to work with it he would make her go crazy.

Erik pulled on the hem of his shirt hiking it up to show his abs. He reached down grabbing the base of his dick whirling it back and forth. “I don’t wanna feel no teeth. You hear me?” His command coming out crystal clear.

Nodding her head Kaila leaned forward giving him a gentle kiss. The thick mushroom tip felt good against her lips. She hasn’t been with a man in almost two years so she wasn’t sure if she still had it. But tonight she would find out knowing that Erik would have no problem letting her know.

Getting her mouth wet she let a long sting of saliva drip on to his length. Sticking out her tongue she ran it against the sides wetting his stick up before taking him into her mouth whole. Erik was a challenge so she wasn’t going to get him down in one fit. She’d have to work her way down. She let him slide in and out of her mouth twirling her head when she would reach his tip. Taking one of her free hands she stroked his shaft while shoving her other hand in her leggings rubbing her clit. The feeling of having a dick grow in her mouth made Kaila’s pussy drip and nipples hard.

Looking up she watched as Erik kept his eyes on her. His jaws tightening from her locked jaw that she had on him. The ‘gawking’ sound coming from her made his balls jump. Erik’s eyes now became low as he reached for her braids unraveling the bun and created a ponytail with his fist.

“That’s how you sucking Daddy dick?” He asked surprise as he now sat up leaning on his free hand watching her perform her work of art.

When she felt him hit the back of her throat she answered him on purpose so that he could feel the vibrations. “Mmhm.”

“Ahh SHIT!” Erik threw his head back feeling how her throat had clenched around him. Kaila surprise the fuck out of him. He never expected a head monster behind that quiet little desktop bookworm facade she had put on, but everyone know that they be the main freaks.

She was sucking his shit sloppy just the way he liked it. Her tight warm jaws had his heads in the clouds. Kaila’s head game was starting to get so good Erik felt like he had to do or say something to throw her off.

“Let Daddy slut this muthafucking throat out....gah damnn.” Standing up he lifted his crisp white shirt up to his mouth tucking it in between his teeth. Grabbing her braids and making a ponytail with one hand he cupped her chin with the other as he fucked her throat.

When the spit began to run down her chin and hit her top it reminded Erik of her big chocolate melons that he wanted to fall asleep on. He had got to feel them now he wanted to see them.

“Pull them big ass fuckin titties out.” He spoke with his shirt still clenched in his teeth making his dimples show.

Kaila heard comply to his orders. She pulled the top down and her strapless bra up and began to play with her nipples for him. Using the spit that dripped on her chest she rubbed it on her pebbles as her mouth became wetter with her arousal. She brought a hand back into her pants and tweaked her nub.

Erik watched her play with herself knowing that head wasn’t the only thing he was trying to get from her for the night. If she could suck dick this good he only imagine what that pussy was feeling like.

“Mouth to fuckin good to not try and fuck. You gon give me sum pussy after?” His hips still stroking in her mouth. Kaila tried to push him out by his thighs but he pushed her hands away. “Move them fuckin hands and answer my question.”

Closing her eyes trying to breathe through her nose she nodded her head. Erik smirked as he pulled out of her mouth. Dick standing up and dripping with her saliva.

“Get yo ass on this bed.” He took off his shirt and stepped out of his sweats and underwear leaving him in his naked glory.

Kaila got on the bed, kicking of her shoes she laid on her back looking at herself in his mirror that was above them before she felt him pulling at her leggings. She squealed from the quick action lifting up to help him get them off. The moment the air touched her thighs she grew self conscious of her appearance. Erik noticed when he opened her thighs climbing between them.

“Instead of being worried bout how thick these thighs are you should be worried about how you gon take this dick.” He leaned up and tapped his heavy meat on her covered clit.

“Ooh.” Out of reaction Kaila moaned and shut her thighs closed.

Erik grabbing them and pushing them back to their previous position. “Unh uh. Open ya fuckin legs. I know you got some good warm wet ass pussy. I can feel the heat coming off that muthafucka and I ain’t pull ya panties to the side yet.”

His dirty talk was making her pussy throb. Kaila wanted to feel that heavy dick split her open even if she cried right after. Erik spoke with big dick energy because he know he had big dick to deliver.

“I want some dick.” Her shy hushed words coming out. Kaila didn’t usually speak like this but Erik brought it out of her.

He smirked and grabbed her the back of her thighs and lifted them up pushing them on her stomach. “Oh you gon get this dick, but I wanna eat this pussy first.”

Without warning he bent his head down between her thighs. Using his teeth he dragged her panties to the side. Kaila jump feeling his breath on her lower lips. She started to brace herself when she felt a long lick go up and down her slick coated slit. Taking his hand he used it to separate her meaty flesh. Her natural juices sticking to the sides

Erik groaned biting his lip. “Mm I know you be making niggas drown in this shit.” He watched her hole open and closed as he spoke to it.

Spitting on her clit he went straight to sucking on it. Erik had to stop her legs from snapping on his head. He used the all the upper strength he had to hold her thick thighs down all the while never letting up on her clit. Keeping his mouth around her he flicked the bud repeatedly. Her juices started to drip out already soaking his beard. The smell of her sex made his dick jump with anticipation. He was ready to feel her in some type of way. Bringing his tongue down he began to tongue fuck her tight hole. She clenched down on him as he slid in and out of her walls. Using his thumb he rubbed her clit adding to her pleasure

“Ohh fuuckk....I’m about to cum babyy.” Kaila covered her mouth to try and lower her whining moans but the way he stuck his tongue in her made it impossible.

“Let that shit out.” Smacking her inner thigh he went back sucking her clit. Erik felt how tight she was on his tongue. He knew he had to open her up a bit to get her ready for his dick. He took two fingers and slowly worked them into her.

Kaila lifted her hips to meet his strokes as she felt herself come undone on his fingers. The suction he was applying on her clit brought tears to her eyes. Her legs shook already giving out. Erik lifted up bringing his fingers to his mouth sucking her essence.

“I’ll have game night every day just to get up in this pussy.” He rubbed his tip against her clit. Using her natural lubricant he made himself slick enough and sat at her tight opening. Erik lifted her thighs back to as far as they were able to go and used the weight of his hips and thrusted inside of her.

“Ahh FUCK!! Gah damn. Wait a minute.” He pulled out instantly and closed his eyes. He chuckled lowly shaking his head. “You got me fucked up if you think I’m not beatin this shit down.” He gripped Kaila’s thighs pulling her to the edge of the bed. He had her at an angle and was standing up.

Kaila squeaked. “Erik wait don’t go too deep-“ She was cut off feeling him sink inside of her. Her arms flailing over as she gripped his sheet. Mouth ajar and formed into a silent ‘o’ as she felt herself getting stretched open to max she’s ever been.

—

Erik wasn’t playing when he said he was going to beat her pussy up. The size or weight of her body didn’t stand a chance to him. He was in beast mode as he drilled her shit in. Kaila’s cry’s and moans fell on deaf ears as he was hitting her spot. No matter how much pushing at his chest she did, it didn’t change the pace or motion he was going in. She had already came on his dick two times but that didn’t mean anything to him.

Kaila whimpered as she brought her hands to his hips to try and stop him. “Daddyyy please l-I can’t.” She brought a hand up to her mouth and bit on her knuckles.

Erik ignored her knowing that she was only speaking because of the sensitivity of her pussy started to probably grow higher the more he stroked her out. The minute he felt her pussy wrapped around his dick Erik got stuck. Her warm and gushy walls clenching him every time he tried to pull out. There was no way she wanted him out of this pussy.

“Move ya fucking hand and take some dick.” He barked as his dreads hung over his eyes and chain swung low. He pulled out tapping on her clit only to slide back in deeper this time.

“Unh..okayy.” She cried frustrated that she couldn’t run

He had her thick frame bended up like a pretzel. Looking between their bodies that was starting to sweat up, Erik watched the way he slid in and out of her. Her coat attached on to his dick. The way he could see her pussy throb around him. But the way she would involuntarily clenched her walls around him when he would pull out only leaving his tip in had her flipping Erik’s crazy switch.

Erik wanted to laugh when he saw the tremble in her lower lip and her tears coming out the corner of her eyes. He was giving her that good dick and he loved watching her get ruined in front of his face. Leaning over her he started to suck her nipples while his stroke never faltered.

Glancing up at the cieling Kaila watched him stroke deep inside of her in the mirror. The rotation of his hips along with his slight curve he had on his dick was sending her to another dimension. He was digging so deep inside of her it had her mind making up scenarios of having a family with him. It was the way he stroked her and fed on her nipples at the same time that had her seeing stars on his wall.

Kaila gripped his dreads. She moaned and whimpered with panted breaths. She couldn’t control the level of her voice. When his strokes were short and fast she’d moan but when he started tapping at her bottom her toes would curl and she’d whimpered and shake underneath him. Kaila didn’t have a clue when she would be able to find another person to hit it the way he did or if there would be another at all.

“Ohh daddy....you so deep in my pussy.” Her sexy moans in his ear had Erik ready to bust. He lifted from her tittes and gave her a nasty kiss. Tongue and all. Kaila moaned and clenched down onto him. Erik’s fingers dug into her skin and sucked on her lip.

“You gon let me nut in this tight ass pussy?” He whispered in her neck.

Kaila shook her head yes willing to agree with anything while he was laying that pipe on her. “Cum in me daddy.”

Erik wanted to hold off but the pussy was hitting too good. He stood back up and stroked until he bottomed out inside her. He’d always get his best nuts when he would go deep. Tucking his lip into his mouth his deep long strokes started to slow feeling his balls tightened. Erik closed his eyes when she gripped his meat and pulling his seed right out of him.

“Fuck!” He groaned and continued to stroke his nut out until he was empty. He pulled out of her with her cream coating his member.

His dick was still hard. Kaila was laying in the same position. Her thighs sore and unable to close from staying open that long. Sitting up she rested on her palms to observe him. Erik’s eyes was glued to her pussy before taking his hand and rubbing her clit.

“I can’t stay out this shit.” He licked his lips.

Kaila shyly smiled as she was about to speak when she heard laughing on the other side of the door.

“Now y’all niggas know them 15 seconds been up.” Celina stated loudly before laughing along with the others.

Her hand covered her mouth as embarrassment clouded her face. She pushed his hand away.

“See Erik I told you.” Kaila whined getting up.

“Wait,where you going?” He asked stepping in front of her.

“I’m going back to the game.”

“We not done here yet. Now come flip this coin to see what you could get. This head...or... this dick.”

_____________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

(Going to have to edit this later)

Tag-list

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee-blog @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaanime @bellanay @skylahb @toni9 @iambabyharry @kiabialia @youlovetkay @lahuttor @kehlaniswifee @childishgambinaax @readingaddict1290 @sociallyawkward18 @iamching07 @sourbabynaee @unholyxcumbucket @ladymac82 @efonteno @xsweetdellzx @shalynn-m

#black panther #erik killmonger #erik smut #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger

771 notes · View notes

ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years ago

Text

Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity.

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

#robin #red hood #robin jason #robin jason todd #jason todd #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

121 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven.

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind.

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there.

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair.

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story."

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.”

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh.

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?”

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web.

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project.

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile.

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter.

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise.

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine.

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes.

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile.

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior.

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging.

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers.

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle.

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1 #reader insert #pierre gasly x reader #his good sweater

109 notes · View notes

cuziloveyou7 · 3 years ago

Text

Festering feelings

Pairing: Bokuto Kōtarō x gn!reader

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, anxiety and panic attacks. Also kind of mentioning eating disorder?

A/n: I know I said I don't like angst and stuff, but since I'm a walking angst piece right now... here ya go! I did it! Someone help me out bc idk how to do tw! If I missed something please tell me! Also please bare in mind that this is my first real fic after not having written anything for 7 years.

This is not proof read, I made this around 1.30am bc I had an idea.......

It was slow, very slow, yet very fast. The first thing that happened was just build up tension. You were mad, frustrated. You needed to vent but didn't want to bother anyone. You would usually confide in Bokuto but he was so busy. The Olympics were coming up and he was training so hard. Each time he came home he was even more tired than the day before and the day before that. So you just did what you always do, suck it up and keep your mouth shut.

-----------

You were slipping. You felt it gradually happening. Not like the times before, when for the most part you didn't know what was happening. No this time you knew.

A week. That's all you could handle. Slipping up here and there, mentioning tiny details to your best friends. Until eventually you just wanted to scream on top of your lungs on the highest building you could find at that moment. Luckily one of your friends caught on and asked you out for a walk around the park.

The two of you talked for hours. Finally getting it off your chest. It felt like such a relief. You felt like the situation was under control again. Nothing wrong. A false alarm? Or maybe just in time before the damage was out of anyone control.

Another week passed. You absorbed yourself in work, house duties and watched some episodes of your favourite anime. You cherished the little time you could spend with Bokuto and loved the stories he would tell you about the team. Your best friend also checked in on you, because they were still worried about you even though you brushed them off saying all was well.

But that nasty tiny feeling inside you was still there. A little unconscious, but festering each day, oh so slowly.

It started with getting tired more often. You blamed it on work. But even on your days off, you would wake up feeling exhausted. You would be so drained even when you did nothing but watch TV or play games to pass the time.

The next thing that happened made you more aware of your situation. Your friend asked you to go out for a walk again. You guys talked, gave an update on what was bothering you but switched the topic to an update about your friend's life. While they were telling you about their life you noticed you weren't exactly paying attention. Your mind wandering off to nowhere, zoning out of the conversation. You felt bad. Your friend had been there for you, listening to all your problems and yet here you were not really paying attention to them.

The same goes for Bokuto. He would come home, ask you how your day was and continue with telling you about his. As much as you loved his stories about the antics of Hinata and Kageyama or the other players, you actually couldn't be bothered in the least. Responding with a 'really?', 'Oh yeah...', 'that's nice'.

Next came closing yourself off. You just wanted everything to get over with. Counting the minutes down for when you could finally go home from work and curl yourself in a blanket on the couch. When Bokuto came home you would usually be "too absorbed" in whatever was playing on the TV or you would already be in bed, blaming it on work or just being tired.

You started losing interest in all the things you liked. You couldn't occupy yourself anymore. The days became longer and longer. You started losing your appetite. Only eating when your body basically screamed for nutrition and even then you would sometimes ignore your own body's scream for food.

At some point, you were just so done. Not caring to force a smile on your face anymore. Plain up ignoring your friends when they texted you. And when Bokuto would come home. The lights would already be out and you would lay in bed with the covers over your head and your back facing him.

Usually, Bokuto picks up very fast on your moods and emotions. Having gone through his well famous emo modes when he was younger. The two of you were always open and honest with your feelings and emotion towards each other. It was something you guys as a couple prided yourselves on.

It was also something you especially needed. Having gone through horrible panic attacks, anxiety and depression. Talking yourself down was/is also something your very good at. And Bokuto picked up on that very quickly when you just started dating.

To some Bokuto seems very carefree and not aware of his surroundings. But in actuality, he's very emotionally intelligent. So he struck up a conversation you would've never guessed you'd have on one of your many dates. Bokuto eased you into it, told you about his emo modes and made you comfortable enough to let you open up about your experiences. This actually helped you go past the blockade that was stopping you from making this relationship official.

But with Bokuto training for the upcoming Olympics and him being away from home more often than not, it was easier to go unnoticed for him and easier for you to slip and fall into a deeper depression.

After weeks of walking around like a zombie, you finally broke down. You had a day off. When you woke up Bokuto was already gone. He texted you later that day saying he would sleep at the training centre because training would go on longer than normal.

It had been a beautiful day, the weather was nice, the sun had been shining, the warmth of summer started to peek through. It would have made you giddy had it not been for the nasty pest growing bigger and bigger inside you. When dusk came you felt it bubbling up. You tried really hard to ignore it. Tried to soothe it with some episodes of your comfort anime. Tried to pick yourself up and pamper yourself with some extra steps in your skincare routine but it was all in vain. Once you stepped inside your shared bedroom you felt the tears trickling down your face. Through your tears you searched for your earbuds, plugging them in and searching for the best sad songs playlist you could find. Shutting off the lights as you lay down in the middle of the bed.

At first, you just lay there, looking up at the ceiling, silent tears streaming down your temple, past your ears into your hair. You felt the tears slowly make their way past your scalp until they finally touched the soft pillow behind your head. You turned your head getting uncomfortable from the feeling of your tears. The pillow your head lay on smelled like him, it's smelled like everything you loved, comforted, his favourite shower gel, a hint of sweat, it smelled like warm sunbeams on an early summer morning, it smelled nice. This made you break down in sobs, which became louder the longer you went on. You stuffed your face in his pillow, threw the covers around you, trying to silence your sobs and screams. They were too loud for you, agonising pain shot through you. You felt alone. Spiralling deeper into a dark hole that was your mind.

-----------

When Bokuto stepped inside your shared apartment he tried to be as silent as he could. The lights were out, a sign that you would probably be asleep already. While trying to get his shoes off Bokuto debated whether or not he should wake you up. He noticed you being unusually tired and sleeping earlier than you normally would. He looked at the clock hanging on the wall, 9.04 pm. A soft smile crossed his features. Maybe he was a bit selfish but he decided to wake you and tell you about his surprise day off coach gave the team. Shuffling around in the dark apartment trying not to bump into any furniture he neared the bedroom door.

The smile Bokuto had on his face disappeared in an instance. His heart dropped when he heard your muffled sobs. You sounded tired. As if you had been crying for a while now. Bokuto rested his head against the door, gripping the handle until his knuckles turned white. How could he not have noticed it before? Sure he was busy, but he always noticed when you started feeling down. Was he not paying attention to you? Had he been too absorbed in his own world? Why didn't you tell him anything? You guys told each other everything. What got you down like this so bad you wouldn't open up to anyone, not even him. But most of all, he was angry, angry at himself for letting it get this far.

But right now that wasn't important. What's most important is you. Without further hesitation Bokuto softly opened the door and stepped towards the bundled up form on the bed.

---------

You felt a cold rush of the air when your blankets lifted up from you. Goosebumps made their way onto your skin. But it wasn't long before you felt a comfortable warmth surround you. Nothing like the suffocating warmth from your blankets. Two strong arms held your body. You didn't have to look up to see who the arms belonged to.

No words were spoken between the two of you. You started sobbing a little louder again until you felt the soft vibrations of Bokuto humming. Taking your earbuds out you looked up at the man 'Kou..' you sniffle softly, but before you could continue Bokuto laid your head back on his chest and started petting your head 'It's okay now. I'm here. Let's just stay like this okay? We'll talk tomorrow' he gave your head a soft kiss before continuing humming again.

Tired from all the crying combined with the soft vibrations coming from Bokuto humming you closed your eyes. Your worries drifted away, tomorrow was another day. You would tell Bokuto everything. But for now, you felt content, safe in his arms. The bad feelings slowly subsiding for at this moment, he was your light, he was the warmth you were desperately searching for, he is your home.

147 notes · View notes

justkending · 3 years ago

Text

Moral of the Story. Chapter Four.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all this time to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count:

A/N:

Chapter Four:

Bucky groaned as the alarm blared throughout the room. Rolling over to his side, he threw his head into the pillow. That didn’t stop the beeping like he had hoped, so with a groan he pushed up, smacking the red numbers that screamed at him. He rolled back onto his back and blinked up at the bare ceiling.

Today was the day…

_________________

Y/N couldn’t seem to sleep at all, so she woke up early at 6:30 jumping into the shower. Having the extra time, she took it to have a nice long soak in the hot water. The schedule of the day running through her mind.

The chance of them running into each other was practically at 100%. They had a time frame of 9-10 to get in and sign what they needed. Mr. Murdock said something along the lines that it would take about 30-45 minutes to get everything finalized and copied.

So yeah… Within an hour frame of needed 30-45 minutes of signing shit and getting multiple copies made, meant Bucky and her would most likely be sitting next to the other as it was done.

She let out a tired and irritated moan as she finally decided to turn off the water. She had it running for so long, her hands were prunes and the water was becoming lukewarm. The world was telling her to suck it up and move on with the day.

____________

The car ride there was dreadful. Every stop light just elongated the inevitable meeting. Every turn brought him closer to the terrifying reunion.

He was running early to begin with, but after hitting traffic from a wreck, he was now running just a few minutes behind. So weaving through the people who didn’t understand New York traffic was his specialty in showing up in time.

____________

She stopped at the coffee shop by her house before really heading to the attorneys office. The car ride to the place was easy and smooth on her end. From coming from the outskirts of Brooklyn, the inner city traffic was avoided for the most part. So she was there early. She even had a second to sit in her car and drink the latte she had bought. Something about Brooklyn latte’s was 10x better than anything California had.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact they actually had cold weather to pair the hot drink with, whereas where she now lived, the lowest low in temperatures was 70 degrees.

________________

Getting there with just 3 minutes to spare, Bucky rushed out of the car and walked with a hint of speed to the door that read Nelson and Murdock Law Firm.

No sign of Y/N yet, but as he walked in, he heard a shout from the street that caused him to turn as soon as he walked in. He didn’t have a second to register what the shout was about as he took two steps in and ran straight into someone’s back.

“Whoa!” he said, using his hands to brace himself on the mystery person's shoulders, and the other person making the same exclamation. “Oh God, I’m so sor-”

Before he could finish the apology, the women turned showing the face of his matured high-school-sweetheart.

“Oh,” he let out in a breathy turn. He could tell just from past experience with her, she had a snarky comment on her tongue at the run in, but upon seeing him, the words died on her lips. “Hey.”

She looked great. Like, really great after all these years. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful gal to begin with, but you never know how someone’s going to age. However, she looked almost the same.

Sure, she had aged some, but just like a nice bottle of the finest wine in all the vineyards of California. Maybe that was her secret given her new home.

Her Y/H/C hair was styled in loose curls. It was voluminous with a healthy shine to it. She had on an off white, canvas dress that cinched at the waist with buttons going down it. And she had a layered gold necklace going down her chest where the buttons were undone. She looked both professional yet casual at the same time.

Bucky realized he had been staring when she awkwardly looked around her trying to not pay attention to his analyzing eyes.

“Hey,” she said, letting out a deep breath.

She didn’t miss how good he looked either. Even in those facebook pictures that she had found the night before, the ones she found him just as attractive, they didn’t do the real man justice. His hair was just as long as the most recent picture his mother had posted, and he looked more muscular than she ever remembered. The scrubs didn't do his build justice.

He was wearing a navy blue v-neck tight fitting t-shirt. A brown leather jacket that looked as though it was tailored specifically for him and him alone. And lastly, he had on a pair of jeans that of course, fit in him all the right places.

There was a very awkward silence as they stood there not knowing what else to say. Neither now looking at the other, but instead looking at every little inanimate object item in the office.

After what felt like eons of the most tense silence to exist, Bucky was about to speak up again, but was cut off from another person running in late.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry guys,” the voice sighed, out of breath from what they presumed was running to get there on time. “Foggy was supposed to pick me up and we were going to ride together, but he got food poisoning last night, so I had to take the train last minute.”

The man had dark brown hair, a nice suit, and a pair of sunglasses on even though it was overcast today and the sun was barely peeking through the heavy clouds.

“Foggy?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head.

Bucky turned back looking at her with the same question on his mind, but watching the small action of confusion brought him back 10 years. God, it had been so long he had almost forgotten the little mannerisms she had that he found adorable. And damn her for still having that adorable action.

“Oh, right. Franklin Nelson. My co-attorney,” he nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were in college. Friends call him Foggy.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded with a kind smile.

“Anyway, I won’t bore you with my morning chaos. I’m sure you two are ready to get this over with and go on about your day,” he smiled, and pulled a walking stick out from around him as he closed the door. One that neither had realized he had been holding until now. “You two much be James and Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Matthew Murdock.

“It’s nice to meet you Matthew,” Y/N replied sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for helping us out,” Bucky nodded, placing his hands nervously in his pockets.

“It’s my pleasure. I’m so sorry about everything that you guys are having to fix,” he said apologetically. But I’m sure you guys want to go about your day, so please, right this way,” he motioned to the door that was across from them.

Bucky and Y/N both shared an impressed look on their faces as they watched him maneuver through the office gracefully.

They followed close behind him and once they were seated in the chairs in front of the desk, Bucky began to fidget in his spot. Sure the office had been redone and really didn’t look much like it had all those years ago, but the layout was the same. And all it was doing to him was bringing back memories he hated trudging back to the surface.

He subtly looked over at Y/N and saw her sitting in perfect posture watching Matthew as if if she were to look at him and only him, then she wouldn’t have to face Bucky.

Why did he expect anything less? Of course she hated him just as much as she had all those years. She was probably dreading this meeting just as much as him. That small speck of hope that maybe they could be somewhat normal and civil upon meeting again after all this time, completely faded at that point.

“Ok, this really shouldn’t take all that much time since Foggy and I went ahead and wrote up all the things that needed signed and double checked. So we should be able to breeze through all this,” Matthew nodded, bringing up a thick file that looked as though it had tabs on the side organizing them.

Y/N looked over wondering just how he knew the difference between documents and noticed on each tab, there were bariel markings along them.

“If you don’t mind me asking, out of all places to live, why New York? It’s got to be hard getting around such a crazy busy city given.. ” Bucky asked, but didn’t finish not sure how to word it. Y/N snapped her head in his direction and smacked his arm. “Ow!” Bucky jumped, sending her raised eyebrows. “What the hell?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because of this,” Matthew laughed casually as he pointed to his glasses. “Don’t worry. You would be surprised just how often I get asked that.”

“Yeah, it was just a question,” Bucky pouted toward Y/N while rubbing his assaulted arm. The two falling back into their old behaviors rather fast.

“I wasn’t always blind. I mean I have been for a good chunk of my life, but I’ve lived in New York my whole life as well,” Matthew went on to explain as he moved papers around. “If anything it would be harder for me to get around if I moved any place else. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“That’s impressive,” Bucky nodded, getting comfortable in his seat.

“Eh, it’s either learn or get bumped around the sidewalk of a place full of people who don’t give a second glance to anyone who’s in their way,” Matthew shrugged. “Oh, I need to go grab something before we start.”

He maneuvered through the room leaving the door open as he went across the office. Tension filled the air as they were left alone for a second time in the past 5 minutes.

Y/N was sitting straight forward, her eyes wandering here and there around the meeting room, but careful not to go over to Bucky’s side of the room. He looked down seeing her hands were fiddling in her lap. She was tapping her thumbs together while his leg bounced up and down.

Bucky had opened his mouth to start to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what was about to come out. Lucky for him, Matthew came back in and went back to his seat.

“Sorry about that. I thought I had it all, but needed to get some pens and one last paper I left on the printer last night.”

“You’re fine,” Y/N said professionally, but kindly. “I have one quick question, if you don’t mind.” Matthew nodded her on with a soft smile. “What exactly happened to Hammer after all this chaos was discovered?”

“Oh, yes. He, uh, he will not be an issue to anyone else to put it lightly. His license was revoked and terminated and he is currently on trial for money laundering and malpractice,” he answered.

“Serves him right,” Bucky mumbled, and instead of getting a smack to the arm, Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Ok, if you two are ready, let’s begin,” Matthew smiled before grabbing the first set of papers.

The two straightened in their seats and the process began.

After a few minutes of just signing, Matthew started to make notes of updated information for the two.

“Ok, Mrs. Barnes, sorry, Y/N,” he corrected quickly. “What is your line of profession at the moment?”

“I work at Horizon Labs in L.A. It’s a company a friend and I from college started up. I’m a Sustainable-Conscious Financial Advisor for a lot of smaller businesses as well as some bigger ones we recently just became partners with,” she answered.

“Horizon Labs, huh?” Matthew said with an impressed look. Bucky turned to look at her as she lightly blushed. “I think I listened to a podcast about them. You guys help companies use recycled goods and find energy efficient technology, right?”

“We just redirect them to people who can help them get those resources. It’s practically just connecting the companies that would work great together in helping the environment,” she nodded humbly.

“That’s amazing,” Matthew smiled. “We need more people and companies like that.”

“Thank you.”

He made note of that on a computer. “I’m assuming with all that, you have to be a little too busy for a second job, right? I don’t need to make note of another?”

“Uh, actually,” she added, Bucky’s already focused eyes on her quirked at her response. “I just invested in a Woman’s shelter with another friend of mine. I haven’t really got to do much with it, but it is a second job as of lately.”

“Wait? Nat?” Bucky caught on.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded almost shyly. Probably the second time out of this whole meeting that she actually made eye contact with him. “My company works with them in getting some of the resources and items they need for the shelter. I talked with Nat and I invested into it some to help with some with their financial advisements.”

“Wow, th-that’s,” Bucky faltered. “That sounds like you,” he said with a breathy laugh thinking about how maybe she really hadn’t changed all these years. That being one of the ‘reasons’ they had broken it off, how people change and all. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N didn’t show a response to his words, but she did take them in.

“So you run a woman’s home and you run a well-off business that promotes eco-friendly resources for the environment?”

“Well, I don’t run the woman’s home. That’s all my friends doing. I just help where help is asked if I can,” she answered once again humbly. No sense of egotistical pride hinted in her explanations or answers.

“That’s extremely impressive Y/N,” Matthew gushed some, and Bucky noticed the smallest form of attraction come off the lawyer. He straightened at that. “I’ll make a note of it. And you Mr. Barnes. What is your occupation?”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders and focused back at the issue at hand. Trying to not get jealous of something that wasn’t even his to be jealous of.

“I’m one of the head occupational therapist at Stark Theracorp,” he answered. Now it was Y/N’s turn to look at him intrigued. “I run the geriatric occupational therapy floor and manage our equipment and employees. ”

“Two very impressive people in the work field from what I’m getting,” Matthew chuckled some as he made the notes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to ask about income from the both of you for the record. If you want to write it on a paper and hand it to me you can or if you are comfortable saying it outloud that works too. Either way, I’ll have Foggy add it in later to the finalized papers.”

“Wait, so we aren’t finalizing it today?” Y/N asked, somewhat shocked.

“Did Foggy not tell you?” Matthew asked. “I thought he reached out to you before this meeting.”

“I don’t believe so,” Y/N shook her head.

“Well, the reason this one is so quick is because I just need a few signatures and updated notes on you two. After that, I’ll make the altercations for the official papers and I’ll send those to you both on their own to get the final signature. You can either bring them to me here, fax them, or have them sent via mail after you signed off on them.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded. The look of defeat in her posture and facial expressions.

It hurt Bucky a little seeing her reaction to it. Did she really want to get away from him that bad? Was he that much of a nuisance in her life? I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be divorced 9 years ago, but he didn’t want it then and it still hurt seeing just how much she wanted it now.

“That’s not an issue is it? I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Matthew apologized.

“No, no. It’s ok,” she said in reassurance to him. But she let out an almost bitter laugh before she spoke again. “We’ve been married for the past 9 years apparently. What’s a few more days?”

“I guess that’s true,” Matthew laughed with her.

Bucky rolled his eyes discreetly. He really hated how she was reacting with all this. It wasn’t surprising, but doesn’t mean it hurts any less seeing how badly she wanted out of the situation.

“Mr. Barnes, are you ok with that?”

“I’ll survive a few more days, I guess,” he returned just as bitterly as Y/N. The two looked at each other one more time, but this time, anger and annoyance was clear on both of their faces.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask! It keeps things more organized for me. If you comment, I most likely will not add because I loose them:)

- Tags will be closing soon.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae @lonerlovescompany @jessyballet @angstysebfan @tita127 @semistablecentenarian @im-a-light-child @alyssahowden @studiesinspanish @natyvwe @rebekahdawkins@fanfictionjunkie1112 @millennial-teenybopper @scotlandasshole @aquariusbarnes @shinykoalacat

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical @livstilinski

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes reader insert #justkending #bucky barnes #reader insert #marvel reader insert #marvel au #marvel au series #marvel series #bucky barnes x y/n #moral of the story #highschool sweetheart #highschool sweetheart series #marvel bucky barnes

164 notes · View notes

sinisterlyhan · 4 years ago

Text

05 ; 08. chanjin / 2503 words

threesome, female!reader, roayl!chanjin, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), faint size kink, bounding with ropes, creampie, overstimulation, mentioned of edging, light degradation

cw: mentions of body image (reader is small)

a/n: nothing but hyunjin and chan on my mind after the mama performance :) so i wrote a little something to self-indulge.

hyunjin learned a few things on his trip to visit chan.

one—chan has a secret chamber in his castle, with a giant bed in the middle, with contraptions and ropes and whips hung spaciously on the stone wall.

it was intentionally unguarded, but nobody was allowed inside unless invited in by him. chan wave the guards and servants off whenever he goes inside with someone, someone who hyunjin came to learn to be you, a castle staff he only saw once in the hallway and did a double-take because your tousled hair, blushed cheeks, and urgent steps seemed suspicious.

two—he was right to be suspicious because as it turned out, chan has been fucking his castle staff in the chamber. or more specifically, he has been fucking you in the chamber.

he supposed he understand why chan needed to wave people away. he barely stumbled upon the room and he could already hear your filthy noises echoing through the haunted corners of the old castle halls. it would be awkward to have to stand by the big doors and wait until the king finishes in his woman of choice every day.

but he waltzed in anyway because he did not think chan would be upset that he, a close friend, walked in without permission. besides, he politely knocked before entering. it wasn't his fault that neither you nor chan could hear the soft sounds of his knuckles because you were screaming so loud.

three—he loves sex.

or, more specifically, he loves being in control. as much as he could be with you when chan was in the same room, at least, but he would say he has gained a few pieces of your heart ever since chan graciously invited him to join in on ruining you for the afternoon.

your hands were tied behind your back, the thick ropes wrestling around your tiny wrists while chan pressed your clenched fist against the small of your naked back.

your knees were grounded weakly against the mattress of the king-sized bed, ankles bound to the two bedposts with a long rope, legs that barely supported your weight spread open so chan could have access to your sticky cunt from behind. he thrusted into you, one arm going over your waist so you wouldn't fall onto the bed in complete exhaustion from the last three orgasms he gave you—first with a glass toy, then his tongue, and then his finger.

and now chan was riding it out. he was stretching the time thinner and thinner, edging you with every hard thrust until you began to cry in agony from having your high chased down every time.

your tears that once rolled down to the mattress began to drip down with your messy drool when hyunjin came along to lodge his thick cock in your mouth.

he has your head held up by the top of your head, his grip tight on your hair and the other rubbing along at front of your neck where he could feel the bulge of his tip whenever he pushes himself into your throat.

this felt wrong. he was reluctant at first, unsure if chan was joking, but all the clouds in his head got thrown away as soon as chan pushed your pretty mouth open and told him to do whatever he wanted. the next second, he just placed himself between the skin of your lips, and as soon as you automatically began to suck on his tip, he was gone.

come to think, he hasn't asked if you actually wanted this yet—not that has to, though, because only agreement could come out of your lips in the face of someone with more authority.

much more authority.

but still, it might have been better if he had asked whether you wanted him here. perhaps you were only comfortable with chan.

"ah, fuck! she feels so good!" hyunjin groaned out once his string of tolerance began quivering, threatening to snap with a release.

he doubled over, unconsciously pushing his hips toward your face so his cock stops at the back of your throat. his stomach touched the top of your head, his chest heaving as pleasure took over his body upon your chokes and moans around his shaft.

you could not breathe, and neither could you move, as well as think. you just felt lost, and stuffed, and unsatisfied that chan wouldn't let you cum after each time he pushed you near the edge just for good fun. the only thing keeping your sane was the fact that hyunjin was about to release over your mouth, and you could finally get a taste of something, as bitter as cum could be.

chan arched a brow from above you, watching as hyunjin threw his head back with a sweaty moan, moving in and out of your mouth to chase his high. he furrowed his brows then, his eyes casting down to your naked back and distinguishing the sound of your muffled moans. a realization hit him, and he laughed to himself—you wanted this. you wanted hyunjin's cum.

it could just be from him hitting your sweet spot, but for certain you also wanted hyunjin's essence over you, you cum slut.

"oh, hold on now," he whispered as he abruptly reached his hand out to shove hyunjin backward.

exhausted and unprepared, hyunjin slipped out of your mouth, the cold air hitting his skin, and he dropped onto the mattress with a huff of breath. his pleasure bar decreased slowly, bringing him down from his almost-orgasm, and he glared up at chan for some sort of reason behind his action.

but his eyes could not find chan. he could hear chan's sinister chuckle, but his eyes were only trained on you. your disappointed brows, your opened mouth and stuck-out tongue, your longing eyes—you moved forward, your knees rubbing against the mattress as you tried to move toward his still erect cock, glistening prettily in the air and waiting to be engulfed again.

it wasn't long before your voice came into his ears, paired with the slapping of skin and chan's occasional groan.

"cum... cum... your majesty..." you slurred out, eyes lost in red lust and body impatiently lurching forward only to be restricted by the ropes scraping against your skin. "please, your majesty... cum... your cum... i want..."

hyunjin watched you with wide eyes, his heart pounding angrily and sending blood to his arousal.

what the fuck was that—oh lord, what the fuck, were you just begging for his cum? so shamelessly? oh lord, you were so lost, you cock slut. your mind was truly fucked out. all you could think about was to be stuffed full and drowned in white filth.

that was hot. very, very hot. he has never laid with a woman like you, or maybe he just never wrecked one far enough that they begin acting as you did. he should try someday, or if chan allows it, he would continue doing it to you as he was quite fond of you now.

your hasty moans, your strangled noises, the warmth of your cheeks, the curve of your smooth back, your tears, the squelch of your wet cunt—oh, he could only imagine how your holes would feel. just think about it makes his insides burn with needs and wants.

"pl–please... i want... i want more..." you slurred between whimpers, chan hitting you just right from behind and your orgasm building again. "please let me... give me your cum... please..."

"aww, does my baby girl want to suck hyunjin's cock? hmm?" chan leaned down to your ears, whispering with malice and startling you. "it's right there for you. you can get there on your own, right? or are you that useless, you need my help to find a dick you could suck on?"

"i–i can't reach, your majesty," you replied timidly, looking at him by turning your head slightly.

you couldn't tell him he was restraining you and keeping your body up. if you did, you'd get punished for talking back, and you've already received enough of those today. you just wanted to cum again.

"hmm, but i think you can."

chan pushed you forward by the back of your neck. he hummed when your face landed on the mattress, only inches away from hyunjin's dripping length. he pulled you up by your hair then, pushing you forward and lowering your back until you came face to face with hyunjin's cock.

your tongue quickly darted out, barely swiping your tip against his vein and his tip before you pulled your knees a little closer to him, moving your head forward so you could take him in your mouth again. you moaned with an eye-roll, feeling a rush of delight upon your first suck, and all you could do was keep going.

you bobbed your head against hyunjin's length, matching with the rhythm of chan as he pounded into you from behind, quickly building your release and not stopping until he gets you to release all over him this time.

hyunjin sighed out in relief and pleasure. he closed his eyes, one arm raised above his head and the other shifted through your messy hair. he guided you along his length slowly, feeling each suction of your mouth sting his skin like a charming beat.

you kept moaning around his length, especially strongly when chan ram into you with an extra hard thrust. and he listened, storing your sweet noises in his head and envisioning the taste of your dripping cunt, the feeling of your warm hole. how sweet your essence would feel on the tip of his tongue, how perfectly your walls would wrap around him, how pretty you would be when your small frame crumbles beneath his body.

he quirked his lips, his tongue swiping across his lower lip upon the feeling of yours rubbing against him. it felt so sensational and so hot that he could feel his arousal threatening to pop again.

your high was approaching, and so was chan's. you could tell by the stuttering of his hips. he was pounding in you without care now, slipping out of your hole occasionally only to quickly shove himself back in because he couldn't stand not feeling the euphoric friction.

you clenched around him with a moan when he hit your g-spot again, and he let out a low whine. leaning down so his chest touched your back, his hand found your clit to abuse you even further, while his free hand pushed at your head so you were forced to take hyunjin's further.

you let out a surprise choke, stimulating his tip and cashing hyunjin's eyes to snap open. his legs jolted with pleasure, a loud and shameless moan pushed out of his lip as you deep-throated him.

"oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" he cursed thought gritted teeth, his hip jutting up when the feeling finally washed over him and he released in your mouth.

you stayed still, tears rolling down your suffocated face and cum splattered over your tongue. you couldn't feel off him for a while because chan still had his hand pushed against the back of your head, so you simply waited with hyunjin's dick in your mouth, yearning for a release.

the drool was rolling out your mouth, hyunjin panted as he observed the two figures before him, trying not to feel the way your lips were still around his shaft.

chan growled under his breath, his sight beginning to shake the more he pulled in and out of you. he was getting close, very close. it was when you started to clench around him because you found it extremely hard to breathe with a dick in your mouth when he sighed, his hand leaving your head to your hip where he held you still and sped into you quickly to chase his high.

you popped off hyunjin, an exhausted groan slipping off your lips, as well as some of his cum and your saliva. hyunjin furrowed his brows, feeling jittery at the sight of your opened mouth, and he reached a hand over to his length to wrap around himself. he pumped it a few times, gathering the slickness on his skin, and he sat up slowly until he could put his fingers in your mouth.

"you said you wanted my cum, so here you go," he said, his finger moving around your tongue as you moaned at the movement. "you left some on my cock, baby."

"so–sorry, your majesty," you mumbled, your voice ringing in his ears as you licked his fingers clean.

"don't be, just keep sucking my fingers," he said. "does it taste good to you, hmm?"

you tried to reply with your words, but the knot in your abdomen was about to snap, so all you could do was nod clumsily until the one sudden shove from chan that finally finished you off. you screamed, your eyes rolling skyward and your jaw hung open at the orgasm. you released around chan, giving him a tight clench around his cock and a rush of a hot liquid wave that made him curse.

"fuck, gonna fucking... fill you up real good, baby girl,” he gritted his teeth,”you're gonna take my cum, aren't you, you filthy little bitch?"

snapping his hips into yours. with one last stroke of your wall, he pushed to bottom out in you as cum sprouted from his tip, tainting you with whiteness.

he pulled out of you then, slumping onto the bed as you did. hyunjin let his jaw hang open when you finally laid on your side, your legs trembling and cum leaking past your inner-thighs. as chan moved to unbound you from the bedpost, hynujin’s eyes glimmered at the sight of your pressed tighs, and even though he knew you were sensitive already, he just needed to learn one last thing.

you yelped when you felt your legs being spread open. your bound hands struggled uncomfortably at your back, your weight leaning against your numb arms. looking up, you found hyunjin staring back at you with hooded eyes, his tongue poked out between his teeth as he eyed your weak, tiny figure and knelt before your dripping core.

oh, he could imagine hovering over you, his big hands fully covering the parts of your body, you pretty little thing.

you whimpered loudly, a scream mixing in between when you felt his fingers spread your hole open and his tongue licked along your slit. he scooped up the cum in your hole, taking them in his mouth before he licked you again.

you shook, your back arching off the bed as you mumbled begs and moans off your lips. it was painful, but so good, so fucking good. you wanted him to stop and keep going, you wanted to feel him suck on your clit again, you wanted his tongue inside you—you're gone, you're so gone and so pretty.

it was when you uncontrollably released on his mouth when hyunjin learned his last thing for the day.

four—holy hell, you taste good.

(and he wondered, for once: can you take more?)

#stayverse #stayhavennet #inkidz #cw: body image #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids dark hours #skz dark hours #hyunjin smut #chan smut #hwang hyunjin smut #bang chan smut #please do tell me if i need to add anything to the tags above!

594 notes · View notes

lizzy-williams · 4 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐭

🍎Warnings: dark!peter parker, manipulation, innocent!reader, smut, triggering themes, oral (male receiving), HOLY FUCK THIS IS WRONG. But holy hell... is it erotic 😏

🍎Read at your own risk!!! You’ve been warned, don’t wanna see it then don’t read it.

🍎Masterlist

🍎A/N: I am kinda in love with the dark!peter genre of fanfic, so behold the first of many 🙃 THE READER IS IN COLLEGE

“Professor?”

The voice was soft, but with an empty classroom, it was heard by the only one left in the room after his last period, his eyes averting his paper that he was grading.

As her eyes met his from the doorway as she made a soft smile, her bag slung over her shoulder as she held a few books in her hand, her demeanor calm and gentle.

“Miss [l/n], what might I be able to help you with,” the young professor spoke, a genuine smile crossing his face, setting his red grading pen down on his oak desk.

The girl peeked her head past the doorframe, hoping that the classroom was truly cleared out. She was shy, and if there was even one person, she would mutter out a ‘never mind’ and go back to her dorm and settle for the evening. But luckily the room was desolate besides the one person she truly wanted to see.

But Peter was more excited to see her than he should have been. [y/n] was his favorite student, and after things fell out with MJ, he was actually quite lonely. But [y/n]... she was perfect for him. She was brilliant, stunning, but most of all she was innocent.

In the smarts department she was a genius. But when it came to everything and anything to with adult life and culture, she was naive. And a teacher was always up for teaching the inexperienced by any means.

“P-Professor, I was just wondering if you could help me with this paper. I just wanted you to proof read and tell me what I can do to improve it,” she went on, slowly walking towards Mr. Parker’s desk.

“Yes, I guess, I need a break from grading anyways,” he acted thoughtful, even though grading papers was the last thing that he wanted to do.

“Thank you,” she gave a small smile, taking a seat in front of his desk.

But what made his breath hitch made him want to shove everything off the desk and take her right there.

As she bent down to unzip her backpack and get her folder holding said assignment, Peter could see right down her shirt, her breasts on full display, the white bra she was wearing being exposed.

I wonder what color her panties are, so fucking pure, I wonder what noises she’ll make when I-

“Mr. Parker?” [y/n] spoke, visibly concerned, snapping him out of his lust-induced funk he was in, making him blink.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “please, why don’t you read it to me?” He suggested, resting his chin on his knuckles, his full attention on her.

“Oh, um, okay, yeah of course,” she laughed nervously, glancing down at her almost masterpiece.

But as she began to read the words in front of her, Peter was focused on something else more... distracting.

Even though only she torso could be seen over the top of his desk, his gaze trailed up and down her body, practically undressing her with his eyes, taking in every part of her, from the way her breasts looked against her sweater, or the way her hair perfectly fit her face, but most of all her lips.

He couldn’t help but think the most sinful things about them. What it would be like to kiss them, what they would look like wrapped around his cock or sucking on his fingers, or what they would look like if he came all over them.

He watched them as they moved, pronouncing each word with ease, the words she was speaking being practically unheard as she went on. And he didn’t miss the skirt that she was wearing when she walked in, perfect and white, something that just screamed “virgin”.

Time seemed to fly by as his thoughts drifted to sinful things, thinking about taking her on every surface in his classroom. On his desk, against the wall, even on top of the desk she sat at everyday in the front of the room.

“So,” she began to speak, Peter snapping into the real world again, “how was that? I think paragraph two was a little strange sounding, but does everything else sound okay?”

She was like an anxious puppy, emotionally vulnerable to criticism. But she was willing to take help if it would make her paper better. But that was in the back of the professor’s mind.

“It sounds amazing, you’re a really good writer, [y/n].”

This was the first time that the professor had used her first name, usually addressing her formally. It was strange to her, making her shift in her seat.

“I’ll tell you what. I have a special course,” he began, and of course, [y/n] always eager to learn, she perked up, “it a special one-on-one course. I save it for the smartest in each class.”

[y/n] was now completely focused on what he was going to say next, not knowing that this was the thing that would take a toll on her life as she knew it.

“That means you get a good grade on your paper there and even extra credit. It’s a little interactive, if you’re okay with that.”

[y/n] nodded hesitantly, Peter giving a smile that was hard to read, but the red flag went over her head, thinking that it was just another one of his friendly grins.

“Well, Miss [y/n], if you’ll take a seat at your normal desk, we can get started.”

She stood, making her way to her usual desk, taking a seat, Peter giving a shake of his head.

“No, no, take a seat on top of the desk, if you will,”

Without a word, she shifted, propping herself up on the flat surface, her hands folded in her lap, her legs swinging as her ankles crossed.

The position made Peter eager to get this going.

“Alright. Now, I’m going to do something, and I need you to understand that this is for a completely educational purpose, okay?”

[y/n] nodded, letting out a gentle “uh-huh,” before Peter got closer, a comforting expression visible on his face.

He nudged her thighs apart with his hands, treating her as if she might shatter. When he was finally positioned right where he wanted to be, he placed a hand on the small of her back, pressing her against him, her breath hitching, trying to keep the whimper she wanted to let out in her throat.

“I’m going to do something else now, then we can start the lesson,”

And without a response, he leaned in, his face going into the crook of her neck, laying a soft kiss. But one kiss turned into three, and soon the kissing turned into licking and nipping, the whimper now finding its way out of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Peter was in heaven. Her skin was as soft as it looked, her scent smelling like peaches and cider, and he loved the way her neck felt under the mercy of his mouth.

“Your doing wonderful, [y/n],” he muttering into her skin, the vibration making her arms wrap around him, similar to a hug.

He continued, and just before he stopped, me stuck out his tongue and licked a strip up her throat and up to her earlobe, before mumbling, “I think you’re ready to start the lesson now...”

Before she could respond, he pulled back, beginning to speak again, her arms loosening from his torso.

“Now this is a lesson that most people learn in college, but they never learn it the right way,” he began, her anxious gaze meeting his calm and collected one, “what I’m going to give you is a gift. An opportunity not many girls your age get.”

“W-What class is this for...?” [y/n] muttered nervously, “I don’t know if I want this-,”

Peter’s eyes darkened, not liking the sudden disobedience. And she was doing so good...

“You want the extra credit right? Would hate to see what it would do to your perfect grade if you missed out on an opportunity like this,” his voice was dark as he looked into her wide and frightened eyes, “don’t you want a good grade?”

[y/n] nodded, hating to think that there was ever a chance she would get a less then satisfactory grade in her favorite class.

“Good girl,” his voice softened, his hand running up and down soothingly as she began to lose tension, “I just want what’s best for you. You are my favorite student after all.”

[y/n] whispered a small ‘thank you’ but her breath hitched as she felt his hand drift farther up her thigh, up and under her skirt. With a small whimper, he touched her covered clit, making her jump.

She had never even touched herself there, the only thing close being when she would drive over a steep hill and she felt a strange feeling in her gut.

“What are you doing?” She anxiously whispered, Peter shushing her.

“Shh, this is the first lesson. Repeat after me. Pleasure is key.”

She silently repeated. She had never really had a class about something close to this accept for the sex talk they gave whatever many years ago in high school.

She felt so dirty. But what he was doing felt so good.

His actions progressed, pulling her panties to the side, his index and pointer fingers drifting across her folds. She whimpered, her nails latching onto his shoulders, her forehead now resting on his shoulder as she tried to wrap her head around what she was feeling.

“Look at you, your so wet... virgins get wet so easily...,” he growled, finding her clit quickly, making her grasp tighter onto him.

She felt as if she was in a movie. A dirty movie that her friends would sometimes put on. And every time, [y/n] would close her eyes during the sex scenes. But now it was like she was in one.

“I need you to slip off your skirt and your panties, alright? It’s time for another part of the lesson.”

Her nod was full of reluctance, but she did as she was told, her body betraying her mind. Peter watched as her clit was exposed, and absolutely hairless.

He felt like a kid on Christmas. All that time waiting, and finally seeing his gift. And it was just what he had asked for.

“I’m going to slip off your shirt and your bra now. This part requires you to be completely nude,” he said sternly.

Before she would absorb his words, her arms were pulled up, her sweater slipping off, her bra not too soon after. And unlike any other boy would, Peter removed it with ease with no trouble at all.

He stepped away, looking at his favorite student. Her hair was ruffled, her clit swollen as she stayed with her thighs spread, her breasts looking more perfect in person then he ever thought they would.

So many nights had he stroked his cock to the thought of her. The thought of what her body would look like. What sounds she would make. And most of all what she would look like on her knees.

“Absolutely stunning. Get on your knees, princess,” he pointed in front of him.

“Why?”

As soon as it left her mouth she wanted to stuff the word back in, the look in her professor’s eyes making her stomach tense.

“Get. On. Your. Knees.” He gritted, “I won’t ask again.”

She then scrambled to the ground, on her knees and looked up at him, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing against her bottom lip, her doe eyes attached to his wandering ones.

“Pleasure is key, remember? And because you don’t have a partner, you’ll be mine. Now the first part is with your mouth. I’ll show you how to do it to me. And then I will do it to you, understand?”

“Mhm.” She nodded, his hands reaching for his belt, unbuckling it slowly, her eyes glued to his hands.

As soon as he pulled both his pants and boxers down, stepping out of them, [y/n] was transfixed at the sight of such a falic part of the male body.

She had never seen one up close and in person before. It was flushed pink and twitching as if it had its own heartbeat.

“Take it in one of your hands,” and she did as he said, “now cup my balls princess,”

The instructions were easy enough. But it was hard to do. For her at least.

The contact to his cock and the sight of his favorite girl on her knees for him was enough to get him to cum on the spot. But he would rather cum down her throat.

“Open your mouth, [y/n].” He instructed, and she did as he demanded, tears almost forming, “now stick your tongue out,”

She looked so perfect like this. He was ready to make this angel a little less holy. To teach her that this was only something he could give her.

“So good for me,” he weaved his hand through the back of her head and in her hair, pulling her in closer, “put it in your mouth, princess, I’ll do the rest, yeah?”

She couldn’t help but lick it first before putting the tip in her mouth, her tongue swirling around it, hoping that she was doing a good job.

But she was suddenly jerked foreword, his cock going into her mouth, his tip poking at the mouth while she gagged. Tears welled up in her eyes, making Peter reach for her hand, holding it as he pulled back out, before sliding right back in roughly. Soon he set a steady pace, the girl below him desperately trying to steady her breaths.

Tears streamed down her face, her mascara ruined, her lips swollen, her hands holding onto his thighs to anchor him. She whimpered and whined against him, wanting to stop but the vibrations from her protest only spurred him on, fucking her face, his perfect little toy.

This was everything he had imagined and more.

“Such a good girl, just like that, you’re doing amazing - fuck -,”

A few more thrusts and he was right on the edge, his hand gripping on her hair tighter and his pace faster.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna cum down your throat, princess, just keep going-,”

When the warm liquid finally oozed out, she began to cough in her desperation for air. He pulled out, grabbing her jaw as he came on her face as she coughed up his cum, sobbing as she gasped for air.

And even though she was almost choked to death by her teacher’s cock, she still managed to let out a rough whimper: “Did I do good?”

“Yes, [y/n], you did absolutely amazing.” He panted, his face flushed, “I think you’ve learned enough for today, we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.” He sighed, grabbing his pants and slipping them back on and the girl scrambled to find her clothes.

Soon enough she was fully dressed, grabbing her bag. But she was soon pulled back by her arm, now facing Mr. Parker.

“Remember, [y/n], this club is only for my best students. Nobody else can know, or else they’ll all want to join. We can’t have that...,” he said quietly, giving a sweet kiss to her forehead as she closed her eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Parker...,” she muttered, hugging him gently, “thank you for the opportunity.”

“Of course. You are my favorite student after all.”

#dark!peter #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker #dark!professor!peter #dark!peter x reader

654 notes · View notes