#my curves are more secure than my dress form here (my new one!) so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marvel-trash-bin · 3 years

Text

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #sugar daddy zemo #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #smut

3K notes · View notes

eijishimas · 3 years

Text

caught red handed.

18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.

notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3

wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!

want to be on the taglist? see here.

#bnhacity #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader smut #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #eijishimas.oneshots

2K notes · View notes

sombreboy · 3 years

Text

Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own.

Written together with @chimoona as JM and @sombreboy as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest.

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close.

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications.

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs.

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise.

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face.

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man.

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied.

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more.

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks.

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time.

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles.

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed.

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him.

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes.

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock.

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

#fic: expensive doll #Mused Obsession #jikook smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #bts mxm smut #bts mxm #bts smut #sub jimin #dom jungkook

408 notes · View notes

lovely-angst · 3 years

Text

number ‘x’ fan

a/n: um, this was a good idea in theory until i started writing it and then suddenly i wanted to trash this fic lol

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: hawks x reader

summary: a trip to Hawks’ agency gone wrong when a crazed fan runs their car into a pregnant you and your two young sons

word count: 5k

05.05.21

If there was something the nation of Japan adored more than Pro Hero Hawks himself, it was his wife and the little family he had with her. His family was something he always talked about when given any opportunity.

To think it had already been five years since Hawks introduced you to the world still baffles you.

When he had come up to you that one day, bringing up the dreaded question of finally bringing you and the kids into the public and media for all of the world to see—you were very nervous, to say the least.

You knew how terrible the media could be with all of the gossip and drama. You weren’t sure if you could handle all of the attraction so suddenly. But your husband Hawks was always so reassuring and in the most nonpressuring way possible.

“If you’re not ready, that’s totally okay! I just thought it would be more beneficial for us if the whole world knew who you guys are,” he said gently as he brought his gloved hand towards your cheek with the softest smile. “I just want the world to finally know about my beautiful family. I don’t want to keep you guys a secret anymore.”

You couldn’t help but melt into his hand, bringing your own to rub those cute little avian features on his eyes gently. “I know, you sweet bird,” you coo, watching how his lips curve up the slightest. “I just don’t know how this could benefit us.”

“Honey, the world is going to love you. They’re going to love our boys. From the pro heroes to the supportive fans I have, we have, they’ll want to protect you too. Trust me.”

Staring up into those comforting golden eyes, you took a deep breath before nodding. Of course, you’ll trust him.

And soon, the fated day of your “debut” was finally here. In your arms, you held your sweet one year old boy, Yuto, while your three year old, Kazuto, clung onto Hawks’ legs adorably.

Though you were very nervous with all of the photographers and news outlets all around you when you turned to glance over at Hawks and saw that proud and genuine smile on his face, all of your fears washed away.

Thinking back on the memory, you let out a content sigh as a smile grew on your face. Thankfully, those last five years flew by quite smoothly with the occasional rough bumps with his angry fan club, nothing that worried you terribly.

And while life was going great for you and your growing family with Hawks, it was going terrible for a self-proclaimed number one Hawks fan.

Clutching the newspaper tightly, their eyes reread the words on the front page for the hundredth time.

‘Pro Hero Hawks shows his seven-month pregnant wife some PDA!’ with a photo caught by the paparazzi showing the two of you sharing a kiss while holding hands.

The violent grip she held on the paper caused rips before letting out an angry scream, tearing the thin material into thousands of pieces letting it pool around her like snowflakes.

Hearing Hawks’ voice coming through the television, she finally snapped out of her thoughts and tuned in focus again, turning to face the television behind her. Her eyebrow irked in irritation as she watched how he wrapped a hand around her waist lovingly and securely.

“I don’t know what I would do without her,” Hawks beams to the reporter who had asked about you, “I mean, have you seen her? She’s the prettiest lady I have ever laid my eyes on and the most amazing wife and mother to our kids!”

“People say she is blessed to be married to me, but I can say for sure I am extremely blessed to be married to her”

Roughly turning the television off, the fan stormed into her bedroom before slamming the door shut behind her, causing the walls to shake. “How could you do this to me!” she screamed as she ran up to tear at the photos of Hawks she had glued on the walls of her bedroom, causing the covered walls to become bare again. “I thought you loved me! I showed you unconditional love! I’m your biggest fan! Everything was going great until that—that wench showed up!”

Boxes and figurines were tossed around, swung off shelves, quickly turning the room into a mess of Hawks merchandise.

It wasn’t until she finally looked over at her makeshift Hawks shrine that she let out a sigh, a smile growing on her lips. “Hawks, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it,” she cooed, walking up to the Hawks shrine before kneeling down in front of it. Reaching over to brush her finger gently over the photo of the two of them—a photo she managed to obtain at a VIP fan meet.

Pressing onto the photo where Hawks stood, she continued to stare at it lovingly, “I know you love me, Hawks. I’ll make sure that it will be just us again.”

“Yuto, Kazuto, hurry up and get dressed so we can visit papa at work,” you say from in the kitchen as you finished preparing lunch for the four of you—five, if you include the baby growing in your belly.

“I can’t find the Endeavor doll papa gave me!” Yuto cries, running into the kitchen with tears. Turning around, you offer the boy a gentle smile before brushing your hand through his soft blonde hair.

“Yuto, we can bring the Endeavor doll another time, okay? What if he gets lost today in papa’s big work building? That would be very sad, wouldn’t it?” You prompt and Yuto looks down before giving you a nod.

“We can find him together when we get back, okay? Right now, papa is waiting for us to come see him and he’s going to show you all of the cool stuff he does! We can wear our Hawks jacket instead to match papa. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Hearing your words, the bright red wings on his back fluff up and flutter in joy before he runs back to his room in joy. “Okay, mama!”

Placing the fried chicken into each container neatly, you covered the lids on them and placed them in the bag nicely before Kazuto walks in and takes the bag, hauling it over his shoulder. “I got it, mom.”

“Oh, honey, it might be heavy,” you try, but Kazuto shakes his head, “Don’t worry, plus your belly might make you tired, so I’ll carry this for you.”

Quick little platters rang in the air before Yuto popped back into the kitchen beside his older brother, “I’m ready, mama!”

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute they were, looking so handsome, just like their dad.

“Okay boys, put your shoes on and let’s head out the door to papa’s agency.”

And it was such a beautiful day for a walk. The sun was out with little to no clouds and there was just the right amount of breeze that helped keep the three of you cool during these summer days.

Even though Hawks’ agency was just a 20-minute walk, he kept insisting on calling you a cab so you wouldn’t have to walk so far with the boys while pregnant. Of course, you declined, saying how it would be healthy for you and the baby to get fresh air and to walk around—to which he finally and hesitantly agreed on before adding a “call me when you get here.”

It was a normal occurrence getting greeted by Hawks fans on your outings like today. Most of them along the lines of, “(Name)-san! You look great today!” or “Love to see you and the boys healthy!” and not to mention, “I love you guys!”

It was sweet seeing supportive fans that your hard-working husband has.

“Ah, look! There is papa’s agency!” you say, pointing to the large and tall building, watching how your sons’ eyes lit up in awe. “Wow!” Yuto exclaims, turning over to you while fluttering his wings. “Papa works there?”

“Yep! Let’s go and give him a surprise!”

Walking over to the crosswalk just in front of the agency, you held Yuto’s hand in yours as the three of you waited for the signal to change to allow you to cross the road. “The roads are empty today, but we still need to watch for cars,” you point out to your boys as they began to look both ways.

Everyone was busy at work, so no one was on the roads besides some parked cars. The crosswalk signal changed and played a tune while you and the boys began to cross the street towards Hawks’ agency to meet up with your dear husband.

The sound of squealing tires from beside you had caught your attention and once you turned your head, it was already too late to dodge the oncoming vehicle speeding towards you and the boys.

Gasping, you tried your best to push your boys out of the way as much as you could, but it wasn’t enough.

The corner of the car was still able to hit Yuto and Kazuto, sending them crashing a few feet away from you.

Unfortunately for you, the vehicle slammed head onto you. Rolling onto the hood, your head crashed into the windshield, smashing it and rolling off. A small pool of blood forming underneath your head as the car sped off.

Your head rang as your vision slowed significantly. Turning your head, you see your boys on the ground more than an arms length away from you as they struggled to get up.

Placing a shaky hand on your belly, you just hoped and prayed your baby was safe from the impact, but it wasn’t looking too good for you, you noted.

It was surprising to you all the thoughts and information were able to process through your head after such an event.

A crowd quickly formed around you and the boys as the voices began fading into the background as your conscious state was beginning to fade.

“My boys...” you say weakly to the stranger, eyes fluttering shut as your attempts to stay awake failed. “Ma’am! Keep your eyes open! Someone call for help!”

“Get H-Hawks,” you tried once more before you succumbed to the drowsiness. Suddenly, it clicked in someone’s mind. “That’s Hawks’ wife and kids! His agency is just down the road! Someone get him!”

Kazuto slowly sat up from the rough fall, looking down at himself to spot any injuries. Spreading his wings, they seemed to be in mint condition, although his hip throbbed and his leg was slightly bruising from the impact. It wasn’t until he heard Yuto sobbing that he turned to check on his younger brother.

Yuto was beside him, face scrunched up, shaking and sobbing as his eyes met those of his brothers. “I think my wing is broken,” Yuto informed, turning to give his older brother a glance of his droopy wing.

And before Kazuto could turn to check on you, a stranger stepped in his view, blocking him from the gruesome scene where his mother lay. “Hey there, friends, it looks like you both got a little bit hurt. The ambulance is on it’s way to take you and your mom to the hospital, so don’t worry. I’ll sit here with you guys and keep you safe, okay?”

The two boys could only nod.

Hawks spun around in his swivel chair eagerly as he waited for his wife and kids to arrive. Sighing, he took out his phone for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, glancing at the last text message you sent.

From: wifey <3

‘Be there in five minutes! see you soon papa bird! <3’

But it had already been half an hour since your text. He knew that sometimes the boys took a little bit longer to get out of the house, but this was a bit off. Maybe he was just being a little impatient.

Suddenly a knock came at the door and he immediately got up to answer it, wings fluttering with excitement. But when he opened the door to find his assistant looking all frazzled, he raised a brow. “What’s up?”

“Hawks, your family,” they stammered, out of breath from running around the large building. “They’ve been in a bad accident in front of the agency. A car-”

Before they could even finish, Hawks had spun around and jumped through a large open window from his office before flying down towards where they had mentioned.

His eyes darted around quickly before catching sight of a large crowd. Sending his feathers down, his heart froze when he recognized you and his boys down there.

From the height he was at, he could already tell it wasn’t looking good. He could spot his boys’ wings from here, thankfully, shooting down towards them.

He just wanted to see his wife and kids and they end up getting hit by some low life?

Hawks landed quickly at the scene before rushing over towards his boys, who immediately noticed their father’s large wings. “Dad!”

Falling onto his knees, his hands roamed around their smaller bodies, checking for injuries before bringing them both in for a hug, relieved to see them alive and breathing. “Are you two okay?” Where does it hurt?”

“My body hurts a bit and Yuto’s wing might be broken,” Kazuto informed before Hawks immediately checked Yuto’s wing before he let out a sigh, “Just a sprain. Don’t worry, birdie.” he replies, pressing a kiss to his youngest’s head.

“Stay here, I’m going to go check on mom. These nice people will help you two, okay? I’m here now, don’t worry.” Hawks said firmly to the boys, giving them one last embrace before the stranger before stepped back in to stay with the boys as Hawks ran over to find you.

Once his eyes spotted you, he felt like his heart had stopped and died there and then.

To put it plainly, you looked dead—blood soaked clothes, unconscious and limp on the ground as the paramedics prepared the stretcher for you.

“(Name)!” Hawks called out, running to your body only to be stopped by a paramedic. “I’m sorry Hawks, but it’s best if you leave the rest to us.”

“W-where is she going?” Hawks asked as he watched them gently place your injured body onto the stretcher, following beside them and peeking at you the best he could. “We’re going to transport her to the nearest hospital. We have to check and make sure we don’t lose the baby. We don’t have time for any more questions,” and with that, they carefully lifted you into the ambulance and drove off, leaving him there with a million unanswered questions.

He wished he could be by your side, but right now, his boys needed him.

It didn’t take Hawks long to arrive at the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto. Reaching the emergency desk, Hawks immediately asked for you before receiving an answer that stopped his already shaking heart.

“There has been complications with her pregnancy, so they have to conduct an emergency C-section to try and save the baby,” they inform, Hawks’ blood turning ice cold.

“C-Section? But she’s only seven months along! The baby isn’t ready!” He cried, wings even more frazzled than before. “I understand your concern. That is why we will do our best to make sure the baby is as healthy as possible.”

Hawks could only stare in shock before turning to his two young boys, who looked up at him worried.

“Is mama going to be okay?” Yuto asked, his wing still drooping behind him. Hawks offered a small but weak smile, “the doctors are doing their best to make mama feel better. While they help mama, we need to get you two checked to make sure you’re doing okay,” Hawks continued, lifting Yuto into his arms.

“How’s it going, Kazuto? Does your leg hurt too much?” Kazuto shakes his head, “It hurts, but I can still walk slowly.” Hawks nods before reaching over to push his son’s hair back as the three walk to get the boys checked on.

“Hawks?” hear a soft female voice, Hawks quickly turned to see Fuyumi walking towards them with a small smile. Hawks quickly stands to greet the friendly face, “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Fuyumi.”

“Don’t worry about it, dad seemed worried when he told me about your situation. Anything to help a friend, right?” she says and Hawks couldn’t help but give her a relieved smile.

“Well, these are my boys. Kazuto is my oldest and Yuto is youngest. Well, with our new baby, Miyako will be the youngest,” Hawks explains as the two boys stand beside him, looking up at Fuyumi.

“Hi,” she starts, bending down towards their level, “My name is Fuyumi, I’m going to take care of you while your mama is getting better, okay?”

Yuto clings onto Hawks’ legs, “I don’t want to go.”

“You know, my dad is the number one hero, Endeavor. He’s kind of scary, but I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two about being a hero.” That caught the boys’ attention, their wings raising up.

“Your papa is the number one hero? My papa is the number two,” Yuto says and Fuyumi smiles at him. “That’s cool, huh? Your papa and my papa must be great friends.” Yuto couldn’t help but give her a cheeky smile, scrunching up his nose.

“Well, let’s say goodbye to your papa and let’s go to my house and we can eat, okay?” Gently taking their hands, Fuyumi brought them over to her side before the two boys wave goodbye to Hawks.

“Take care of mama, okay?” Yuto says as Hawks gives him a wink and a thumbs up. “I’ll tell her about how cool you two were being such big boys and not even crying.”

Hawks stepped closer towards Fuyumi, cupping his hand around his mouth, “Yuto’s wing has a sprain, so make sure he doesn’t use it and doesn’t sleep on it if he can help it. Kazuto’s left hip and leg is in bad shape and is pretty bruised, so please keep some ice on it.”

Pulling away, Fuyumi gives him a determined nod. “Thanks, see you in a few days.” and with that, she left the hospital with Yuto and Kazuto in hand.

Letting out a sigh, Hawks carried on over towards the waiting area while he waited for your operation to finish. It had been only an hour since he had gotten here, but it felt like forever while he waited for some sort of news.

After some time, he finally received news, great news.

His daughter Miyako had been born via c-section and had no underlying health issues. Unfortunately, because she was born premature, she would need to be monitored at the hospital until she was strong enough without the help of the equipment to finally go home.

That was fine by Hawks, of course, anything to help his baby girl.

Walking down the quiet halls of the hospital room, Hawks nervously made his way into the NICU, where his baby girl, Miyako, would be staying for some time.

“I’m here to see Miyako, I’m the dad,” he states before a nurse leads him over to her quiet room filled with the background noises of the equipment keeping her alive and healthy.

Gently walking over, Hawks peeked over where the little girl was being incubated, his heart swelling at the sight of his third child and first girl.

“Can I touch her?” Hawks asked the nurse behind him gently and nervously, seeing that she was tiny and barely over five pounds. “Of course, just wash your hands with soap.”

Doing just that, he made sure to take his time with cleaning his hands and forearms before drying them and making his way back to Miyako.

Sticking his arms into the small openings, Hawks brushed the back of his fingers across her small yet still chubby cheeks. A smile blossomed onto his lips when she stretched out from his touch and that’s when he finally noticed the little wings perched on her back.

“You have wings, baby girl,” Hawks commented as his fingers ran across her fuzzy grey wings. “That makes three of us, huh?”

He spent whatever time he could with her talking about himself, her brothers and her amazing mother before the nurse politely told him to leave so that Miyako could rest some more.

With all the terrible things that had happened, Miyako finally arriving was a good that broke the hardship.

Before he could visit your room, he was stopped in the halls by a detective who flashed him his badge, “we found the culprit behind this attack.” Hawks frowned at the detective, “Let’s go to a more private setting,” he replied as the two made their way into a private room.

“What did you find?” Hawks questioned, mirroring the detective who pulled out a chair to sit in. “An obsessed fan of yours,” he simply stated, tossing out a photo towards the winged man, “found this in the vehicle she was driving when she hit your wife and kids,” I assume you recognize the girl?”

Staring at the photo in his hand, Hawks let out a groan as he slumped back on his chair, “I should’ve never suggested bringing (Name) and the kids out into the public,” Hawks sighed.

“This would have never happened.”

“Keigo?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” he hums, fixing the vase full of your favorite flowers before walking over to you and sitting in the chair that sat beside your hospital bed.

“How are the boys doing?” you asked, rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand gently when he slipped his hand into yours.

It had been a day since you woke up, but three days since you had been admitted to the hospital, Hawks being one of the only people you had seen, including the doctors and your bedside nurses.

“Well, they miss you that’s for sure,” he smiles and you offer one back. “Are they injured? I wasn’t able to check up on them before I—well, you know,” you try, but Hawks shifts your thoughts away when he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Yuto just has a sprained wing and Kazuto’s a little bruised, but they’re being cared at, at the number one’s house,” your eyes widened, “Endeavor’s?”

“Well, technically, Fuyumi is watching over them,” Hawks continues and you relax once again with a smile, “Fuyumi has always been good with kids. They must be having a good time with her.”

“And Miyako? How is she?”

“She’s cute and small and has these cute grey fuzzy wings on her back,” Hawks says with a small giggle, “her nurse says she’s doing just fine and should be able to go home in a few weeks. They still want her to cook a bit in the incubator.”

You smile at him before closing your eyes and resting back on your pillow with a relieved sigh, “I’m glad that they’re all okay. I miss them so much.”

Hawks brings a hand to your cheek and you open your eyes to look up at him, nuzzling into his warm and large palm, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just feel like this is all my fault,” he starts, bringing his hand back as his gaze drops down to his lap, “I should’ve never asked to bring you and the boys out into the public. It was selfish of me, you guys would’ve been safer and this would’ve never happened.”

“Keigo, it’s not your fault,” you say, placing a hand on his cheek, but your movement was restricted due to the IV needle in your arm. Hawks brings your hand down to your lap, opting to hold it in his larger ones instead.

“We didn’t know this would’ve happened, plus it was just a crazy fan! Instead of you being mad, I should be mad because someone thinks they love you more than how much I love you!” you exclaim and Hawks couldn’t help the small smile on his lips.

“Trust in yourself,” motioning him closer, you pressing a kiss onto his lips before a teasing smile formed on your lips “I love you more than you can ever imagine, you dumb bird.”

And Hawks tucked your words into his heart and decided to trust himself on his next bizarre idea—visiting that crazy fan of his in prison.

Sitting in the cool, metal chair, Hawks waited patiently in front of the barrier for the guards to bring out his so called, number one fan—the person who tried to take out his whole family.

It wasn’t until she came into view and noticed him that her eyes seemed to light up in shock and joy. Throwing herself on the chair, she grabbed the phone as fast as she could, bringing it up to her ear. Hawks doing the same.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you! You came! You really came to see me!” she cried, and Hawks did not give her a spec of emotion.

“I’m only here to tell you a few things,” he started and she nodded excitedly. “You are a fan of mine and I adore and cherish my fans,” Hawks states, her cheeks turning rosy at his words. “I would expect you to do something as simple as respect me as a person, as a pro hero, and to respect my family—my wife and my kids.”

“I only did what I did because I love you!” she shot back and Hawks glared her down with his sharp eyes, “and because of that, I’m disappointing that you even have the nerve to call yourself my fan. I’ve blacklisted you from attending any of my fan meets or events.”

Her eyes widened before she began to shake her head in disbelief, “No, no, no...You don’t mean that! Hawks no!”

“But I doubt you’d be leaving prison anytime soon for attempted murder on three cases,” He shoots back, her sobs and wails audible through the thick barrier between them.

“But I love you!” she cries desperately, “don’t do this!”

Hanging up the phone, Hawks turned around as the wails from the unfortunate girl filled the air behind him, leaving him feeling lighter than ever.

And it seemed as if things continued to get better from thereon.

You sat in your hospital bed excited yet nervously as the nurse carefully transported Miyako into your arms for the first time. As the infant shifted around in discomfort, you gently cooed at her, Miyako recognizing your voice.

“Miyako, it’s mama. I’m sorry it took us so long to finally meet,” you say with a large smile as she turned to face you—her poofy and fuzzy wings resting over your arms warmly.

Hawks watched in adoration of the sight of his two favorite girls finally together in each other’s arms. Miyako no longer needed any medical assistance and you, finally bandaged and needle free.

“Miyako’s been doing perfectly fine without any of the medical equipment and should be able to go home in the next few days,” your nurse says and your head shoots over towards Hawks’ excitedly.

“Honey, honey,” you chirp, “We can finally go home in a few days!”

Hawks couldn’t help the chuckle and smile that formed on his lips, especially from how excited you were. You had been in this hospital for nearly a month now and eager to see your boys and to finally be home.

Leaning over, Hawks pressed a warm kiss onto your lips before running his finger over Miyako’s plump cheeks.

“I can’t wait to have you home and in my arms again.”

And did that day finally come.

You and Hawks made your way around the hospital with Miyako sound asleep in a stroller, thanking all the doctors and nurses for their help.

And to your surprise, Kazuto, Yuto and Fuyumi were at the main doors waiting for the three of you.

“Mama!” they cried before taking off towards you. Yuto wrapped his small arms around your legs as Kazuto, who was just a bit taller, wrapped his arms around your waist gently, pressing his face into your side.

“My boys, I missed you both so much,” you cried, pressing kisses all over their faces, seeing them light up with joy after being separated for so long.

“Would you like to see your little sister?” You ask with a curious smile, watching them suddenly turn timid, but slowly, they made their way to the stroller and found a little baby girl sleeping comfortably.

“She’s so small,” Kazuto notes, glancing back up at you with his proud big brother smile. “Hi, Miyako. You’re so cute,” Yuto giggles, watching her stir.

You couldn’t help but lean into Hawks at the sight. Everything was right. Even when you finally had the energy to check your phone, you were surprised to see how all the support from friends, family, and fans alike.

“The agency called and said we have like a million gifts from the fans to pick up. A lot of them are ‘get well’ gifts for you and the boys and some are baby gifts for Miya,” Hawks states with a smile and you tilt your head at him teasingly.

“Miya? You already gave her a nickname?” you tease and he couldn’t help but look away with a blush which made you laugh. “Well, Miya is going to have the best papa bird and brother birds in the world.”

But the feeling of being at home, away from the world and just with your family topped everything else.

You were in Hawks’ arms, resting comfortably and watching as your two young boys watched Miyako in awe, commenting about how cute she was or how cute her small grey wings were every minute.

“Keigo, I’m so happy,” you state, leaning into his body more as you let out a content sigh. “Thank you for everything,” glancing up, his gold eyes were already on you before the two of you connected with a kiss.

“I should be saying that to you, dove. You’ve given me a whole family to love.”

And for all the bad that had happened, being able to rest in the love of your life’s arms with your newly expanded family, seemed to wash all of that away.

#hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #takami keigo x you #keigo takami #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x you #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia scenarios

645 notes · View notes

i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 3 years

Text

Mobster!Steve Rogers x reader Part 2

<Part 1<

Warnings: 18+ readers only, oral f-receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, spanking, public sex? People listening, violence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't remember the last time you were excited for a 'date' or felt completely comfortable whilst on one.

Steve was true to his word, and the entire night he treated you like you were a Queen. He called you beautiful, kissed your hand, kept his arm secure around your waist as the two of you walked into the restaurant. Maybe you were a little paranoid, thinking Brock was going to show up and ruin it for you but you were sure you could feel everyone's eyes on you the moment you walked into the packed restaurant. It almost felt like everyone went quiet until the pair of you were sat down. It did strike you as odd when Steve walked you out of your apartment building to his car and both Bucky and Sam were waiting for you.

"I had a great time tonight, Steve, thank you." You smiled up at him shyly as the two of you sat in the back of his car.

Steve had his arm around you, his fingers stroking your bare shoulder as his other hand held yours, lightly stroking his thumb over your knuckles, every now and then he'd lightly kiss them. You felt yourself blushing more and more, enjoying the strange feeling that swam in your stomach.

"Me too." Steve smiled softly at you as he leaned his head back as the car came to a stop outside your building. "Can I see you again, doll?"

You were a little hesitant, after everything with Brock, you were scared to go through all that again, but something about Steve made you feel safer than you'd ever felt.

"I'd-" Your eyes widened with fear as you glanced out the window over Steve's shoulder. "Oh, no... No, no." You gulped.

Steve frowned as he looked out the window himself. He let out an audible growl, spotting Brock standing on the other side of the street. "Sam, Bucky, I want to have a chat with Mr Rumlow. Now." He ordered. He turned back to face you, "Stay here, doll." He offered you a reassuring smile before he opened the door and got out.

You slid over to the door Steve had just shut and rolled the window down enough so you could hear. You couldn't hear everything that was being said, but you could tell Brock was pissed.

He shook his head and looked round Steve's bulking frame towards the car. "Seriously, Y/N? Do you know who he is?" Bucky grabbed him by the shoulder as he tried to move closer. "You thought our relationship was bad. Oh, baby... You've no idea what's in store for you now... Now, now you're a mobsters whore." He spat at you.

You let out a startled gasp as Steve punched him square in the face. You felt a mixture of emotions swimming in your gut as you watched the encounter. Was what Brock said true? Is that why Steve punched him? Why did it turn you on so much?

"Doll?" You blinked and looked up at Steve as he stood in front of you. You'd been inside your own head so much, you hadn't noticed Steve come back to the car and open the door. He offered you a soft smile as he held his hand out for you. Your eyes flicked down to his knuckles, you could see where he'd punched Brock and it made your stomach flutter, "Let's get you inside,sweetheart."

You nodded and took his hand, unable to form any words.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way up to your apartment, you weren't sure what to say to him, but you didn't move out of his hold either.

"You're not running." Steve spoke softly as you came to a stop outside your apartment door.

You shook your head. You closed your eyes and drew in a deep breath. "This is insane..." You let out a dry chuckle, "I barely know you, I should be running away..."

Steve's brow furrowed as he pinched your chin between his finger and thumb and lifted your face. "I meant what I said, doll. I'll treat you like the Queen you are. I would never, hurt ya' like he did. Just let me take care of you." Steve sighed, "I understand though, and if you tell me to leave, I will. I'll never bother you again."

"I should be running, but I'm not." You looked up at him, "I don't care that you're, a crime lord, or whatever it is you are." You smiled and turned to unlock your door. "All I know is, whether this is a fleeting romance, or long term, I've never felt safer. And I've never felt more certain about what I want."

Steve gave you a playful smirk, "I'm not a crime lord, doll." He winked at you making you roll your eyes at him and smile. Steve stepped closer to you as you pushed your door open. He reached out and grabbed your hand, turning you so you were facing him. "What do you want, doll? Tell me." He reached up and gently held your face in his large hands. He leaned in, almost brushing lips against yours but holding back, teasing you, wanting to hear you say you wanted it.

"I want you."

The moment those words left your lips, Steve leaned in and pressed his against yours. You let out a soft moan, allowing Steve to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss.

The kiss ended all too soon when Steve's cell began ringing.

Steve pulled back with a heavy exhale. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled it out. "Not the best time, Buck."

You rolled your eyes playfully and turned around, walking off into your apartment, leaving Steve to his phone call. You kicked your shoes off and your coat closely following before walking into your bedroom to put them away. You frowned to yourself and moved over to the window and peered through the closed blinds, out onto the street, letting out a relieved sigh when you couldn't see Brock.

"He won't be back, doll." Steve spoke from behind you, lightly pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he slipped his hands over your waist.

"I wish I could believe you." You admitted.

Steve kissed your shoulder again, slowly moving his lips up the side of your neck. You closed your eyes letting out a soft moan as you moved your head to the side. "Forget about him. Just focus on me, sweetheart." He slowly traced the curves of your body with his fingers. "I'm going nowhere."

You moaned again. "Please." You begged softly.

Steve reached up and unzipped the back of your dress before slipping the straps off your shoulders. The material fell to your feet, leaving you in just your lacey bra and matching panties. "Let me see you, baby girl." Steve whispered.

You closed your eyes and slowly began to turn, holding your breath as you did. You suddenly felt nervous. It had been a while since anyone had seen you like this.

"Open your eyes for me, doll." He asked, smiling softly at you as you did as he asked. He pinched your chin softly and raised your head so you were looking at him, "You're more beautiful than I imagined." He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

You felt his hands move to where your bra was fastened and with expert fingers Steve had it off and dropping to floor to join your dress. A shiver ran down your spine as he teased his fingertips across your skin as he pulled back from you. You gulped as you u watched his eyes slowly take you in.

"How can anyone treat you so badly. You're perfect." He whispered and lightly pinched your left nipple making your breath catch in your throat.

Steve leaned forwards and ran his tongue over your other nipple then lightly sucked it into his mouth. Your eyes fell shut and your head fell back as he lightly toyed with you. He moved his lips over the curve of your breast as he got to his knees before you.

"Ste-eve?"

"Shh, doll, just enjoy it. I'm not gonna hurt ya'." He sent you a playful wink before he continued to kiss across your body. He was going to worship your body until you told him to stop.

As he kissed across your hips, he pulled down your panties and dropped them top floor. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip before he practically dived in.

"Fuck!" You jumped, a high pitch noise leaving your lips as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

You've had guys eat you out before, before whilst you were stood up was new. And Steve was already far better than anyone you've ever had before.

You let out a startled gasp as he lifted your left leg and placed it over his shoulder, making space for him so he could get closer (if possible) to his meals. You were fucking delicious. As your leg laid over his shoulder, you will became fully aware of how naked you were compared to Steve, who was still fully clothed, except for his suit jacket and tie that he'd discarded. Something about it all made you wetter, made it almost sinful.

"Oh, Steve, I-" You let out a breathy moan as you felt your orgasm come out of nowhere.

Steve stared up at you with lust blown eyes as he worked you through your high. His hands holding firmly on hips as your body quivered. He eventually pulled back with a smirk, "How ya' feelin', baby girl?"

You could get used to the different pet names Steve called you, they made you giddy and eager to please. God, maybe you were a whore... Ah well. "Fucking great." You grinned down at him with a small giggle.

Steve licked his bottom lip as he stood up. "Good." He smiled, "We can stop here if you-"

"Don't you dare!" You sent him a glare before reaching out and began to unbutton his shirt. "I'd hate to have to get my vibrator out, 'cause you're not up to it." You looked up at him through your eyelashes and smirked.

Steve grabbed a hold of your wrists and growled. "I was, going to take it easy on ya', but since you're such a little minx." He growled, "Get on the bed." He ordered.

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice, deep and rough. You quickly slipped out of his hold and skipped over to your bed, excitement bubbling in your stomach. Steve ran his eyes over your body as you crawled over the mattress and settled in the middle. You were beautiful.

"Touch yourself," He ordered again, slowly unfastening the rest of his shirt.

You gulped and nodded. You spread your legs wide so Steve could see as you slipped your fingers over your pussy. You let out a soft sigh as you gathered the slick and began to slowly tease yourself.

Steve licked his lips as he watched your fingers disappear inside of your pussy. Your taste still lingered on his tongue and he was still hungry for more. He could spend all night watching you touch yourself, you looked and sounded so beautiful, but that could wait for another night. Right now he needed to be inside of you. He needed to be the one to make you cry out in pleasure and begging for more. He wanted to erase all memories of Brock Rumlow and all the pain he caused you. As your soft moans filled the room, Steve dropped the last of his clothing to the floor.

"Stop." Steve commanded. Your eyes opened as you stopped your movements, your breath almost catching in your throat as you stared up at Steve. "You look so beautiful baby girl," Steve knelt on the bottom of the bed. "But I think m'gonna have to stretch you myself, hmm?" He crawled up the bed until he was once again face to face with your dripping pussy.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure the moment Steve slipped his much larger finger inside of you. His lips pressed against your already shaking thigh as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you.

"Fuck," Steve moaned, "Your gonna squeeze my cock so fucking good, aren't ya' doll?"

You hummed, "... Yes,"

Steve lightly but your inner thigh s he pushed a second finger inside of you, your moans like music to his ears. He ran his tongue over the mark lightly before moving to lick at your swollen bud, making you squeal loudly. His fingers pressed against that spungy spot inside of you as he wrapped his lips around your clit and added a third finger.

"FUUUUCK!" Your mouth hung open as you screamed out, your orgasm knocking the wind out of you. Your legs finally gave out and dropped flat on the bed.

Steve pulled back from you licking his lips and smirking as he watched your body twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Still want me to continue?"

You nodded, "God yes." You giggled and pushed yourself up on to your elbows. A hungry, lust blown look filled your eyes as you looked down to his hard cock that stood proudly between his thighs. You licked your bottom lip as you reached out and wrapped your hand around him.

Steve's eyes fell shut and a breathy moan left his lips. You slowly began to stroke him, "Fahk. That feels good doll, but I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside you." He reached dup and grabbed a hold of your face before crashing his lips against yours.

You fell backwards as you shared a sloppy kiss, moaning into Steve's mouth as his cock pressed against your thigh.

Steve pulled back enough to rest his forehead against yours, "Ready?"

You nodded giving him another kiss and hiked your leg over his left hip. "Yes."

Steve sent you a wink before kissing you again. As he did, he lined himself up at your wet core and slowly pushed the head of his cock in.

You immediately felt a slight burn from the stretch, he was certainly bigger than you've ever had. But soon the pain faded and was replaced by pleasure, that had your toes curling. "Oh, Steve," You gasped, wrapping your arms around him.

Steve stopped half way and pulled back, looking at you concerned. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah, just... Fuck, you're big." You let out a breathy giggle, "Keep going, please." You begged.

Steve nodded, pecking your lips before pushing further into you. As he slipped his cock all the way in, he placed kisses down your throat and along your bare shoulder, whispering praises in your ear.

Your nails scraped down Steve's back as he began a steady pace. His thick cock repeatedly stretching you open as his cock slipped against your soft walls.

"Feel good, doll?" Steve asked as he felt you clench around his cock.

"Yes." You moaned quietly.

"Louder!" Steve growled hitting deeper.

"Yes!" You cried out as Steve put pressure on your clit and began rubbing circles. "Fuck, Steve!" You moaned even louder.

Steve groaned as you squeezed his cock. "That's it, baby girl, cum for me." He ordered, feeling your pussy flutter and squeeze around his cock. Your eyes rolled back as you held onto to Steve, your third orgasm even more intense than the last.

Steve pushed himself up and abruptly pulled out of you causing you to let out a frustrated moan. "Up. Hands and knees. Now." He ordered, his commanding tone sending shivers down your spine.

You bit back your excitement as you slowly rolled over onto your front, still a bit dazed from your orgasm. Before you had chance to push yourself up, Steve was grabbing a hold of your hips and yanking you backwards, causing the giggle you tried to hide to break. Something about Steve manhandling you excited you, and it took you by surprise. He wasn't cruel like Brock used to be with you, but he was caring in the way he was.

You let out a sound that was somewhere in between a scream and a whine as Steve pushed his cock backside you.

"You like me being rough, don't you? You're fucking soaking. Your cunt is practically sucking me." He grunted. "You love it, don't you? Don't you!" He snarled.

"Yes." You panted.

"Say it!"

"I love it." You moaned loudly.

"Who's fuckin' you this good?" Steve demanded, delivering a harsh slap to your backside.

You let out a surprised squeal jolting forwards. "You are, Steve!"

"That's right. Me!" Steve reached round and pinched your clit, harshly rolling and pulling at it as he hit deep inside of you, causing you to scream, coming again. "FAAAAHK!" Steve snarled like a beast. His head thrown back as he came.

The pair of you collapsed in a heap, your breathing heavy as you laid there in post-orgasmic bliss. Slowly, as Steve gently stroked his fingers up and down your bare back as you laid with head on his chest, your breathing evened out. A smiled tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at your sleeping face. He always got what he wanted.

Steve reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his cell that he placed there earlier, and put it to his ear. "Buck? Did he hear?" He asked.

"He did. He ain't too happy 'bout it, boss." Bucky chuckled. "Now what?"

"Put him on." Steve glanced down at you as you shifted your head but stayed asleep.

"He won't be able to answer, boss. That a problem?"

"No." Steve smirked, lightly brushing his fingers over your shoulder.

"Got it."

There was a brief moment of silence and shuffling until the sound off muffled garbled filled the line.

"Enjoy the show, Mr Rumlow," Steve chuckled darkly. "Doesn't matter, if you did or not, becasue Y/N did. Fuck, did she cum hard. Around my tongue, around my fingers... Twice, around my cock as I fucked her. Not you. Never you again, ya' hear? She's mine now, Mr Rumlow. Mine." Steve sighed heavily as there was more muffled garble from Brock.

"Well, he certainly ain't happy now." Bucky chuckled. "Now what?"

"Kill him." Steve hung up, putting his cell back on the bedside table. He looked down at you and gave you a soft kiss on top of your head. "Doll?" He lightly shook you until you began to stir. "C'mon, let's get ya' cleaned up."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #marvel #mob!steve rogers #Mob!Steve Rogers x reader #Mob!Steve Rogers x reader smut #mobster!steve rogers #Mobster!Steve Rogers x reader smut

230 notes · View notes

heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

Text

Childish Infatuation [Benedict Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Childish Infatuation Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 27 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Benedict fic :) Summary: [x] After 8 years you finally come back to London. Seeing Benedict intensifies all those feelings you have been harbouring for him, but the fear of rejection lingers in the back of your mind.

Bridgerton Masterlist | Masterlists

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

“Eloise! You must come here,” Benedict shouted, running after his sister, circling around the sofa in a childish manner. You watched the two siblings acting in a way society would have judged them for, but in your eyes, they looked like a family filled with love. Benedict has grown into a dashingly handsome young man, one that you didn’t expect to see. His smile was like a little child’s, far from the grown man he was meant to be, but his features must have made women fall on their knees before him.

“Leave that poor girl alone,” you chipped in with an adoring smile as they turned towards you. Clear confusion sat across their faces, both debating your identity. Eloise was struggling, she was only a child when you left, but Benedict’s growing eyes reassured you of his realisation. However, before he could have even spoken a word, Anthony walked into the room with his head held high, his eyes demanding respect. Halting his steps, he carefully studied your features, before his initial shock quickly turned into a grand smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from returning his expression as he walked up to you and embraced you in a brotherly hug.

“I shall think you missed me, should you keep hugging me,” you giggled happily as you wrapped your arms around him, missing his brooding mood, sarcastic remarks and never-ending scolding. Although you knew hugging him was wrong and it could have been deemed inappropriate by many, but he was more of a brother to you than your own.

“I’m quite certain you were not a brat when you left. I’m unsure about the change,” he squinted, watching you with eager eyes, before his lips curved into a playfully smile, earning a gentle punch from you. The manners of a lady could not have been farther from you, but you didn’t mind, you loved yourself the way you were.

“I wasn’t a brat nor am I brat now. I’ll have you know, I’m a lady and I would like you to treat me accordingly, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied with a slight attitude as you pulled away from his embrace. His reaction, a loud scoff was certainly not what you expected.

“I apologise, but you are still that tiny ankle-biter who left 8 years ago,” he chuckled playfully. You grimaced at him, once again defying those precious manners you have been taught by your dear mother.

“Ankle-biter? I’ll have you know, I was 16 years old, not a child, Anthony,'' astonished by his reply, you pursed your lips, sulking unlike a mature adult you were supposed to be.

“You will always be a little sister to me therefore I call you however I wish to,” he snorted proudly, but before you could have even thought of a smart reply, Benedict interrupted your conversation.

“Are you-? Is it-? I-,” however he tried to find the right words, Benedict was unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Should I understand?” you turned to Anthony, but he seemed as confused as you did, trying to figure out what his brother was trying to say.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” Benedict asked, his words hesitant as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Might be. I am unsure about who you think I may be,” you chuckled playfully. However, your laughter died down as two strong arms sneaked around your waist and lifted you up in the air, holding onto you strongly, making you feel unexpectedly safe and secure. You wished to be in his arms for years, a simple thought of his smile made you keep going. Folding your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to enjoy his embrace, heaving a deep sigh in comfort. You knew hugging him was inappropriate, but not for the same reasons as hugging Anthony. Having genuine feelings towards Benedict, thinking of him as a man, someone you could have imagined a future with made it wrong, but absolutely beautiful.

He placed your feet on the ground and cupped your face, kissing your forehead, starting your heart off in a dangerous race. From the corner of your eyes, you caught Anthony’s, trying to act as if he didn’t see his brother being more than slightly inappropriate. “Why didn’t you tell me in your last letter? Should I have known that you were to come home, we would have prepared,” he frowned, but his happy smile never faltered.

His hands wandered down your arms and held onto your hands, securing his fingers around them as he drew tiny circles with the tip of his thumb on your skin. Should you have removed your hands from his hold? Should you have created a space between you? Logically that would have been the right decision. But your feelings for Benedict were beyond logical. The man has had your heart since the very first day you met and whilst you never imagined growing genuine feelings from such a childish infatuation, now you stood in front of him with a beaming smile, looking at him as if he was the only man on earth.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you giggled, slightly shrugging your shoulders. “I did tell you that we might meet soon again,”

“I’m certain you have told me that for the past 8 years. Should I have believed you?” he asked, but you knew it was a rhetorical question and instead you just shook your head.

“Anthony, Benedict, I have heard news. Mr and Mrs-,” Daphne ran inside the room, holding onto her beautiful, light blue dress, her breathing shallow, her eyes wide in shock.

“It’s been a long time, Daph,” you smiled at the girl who has grown into a beautiful young woman.

“You are back,” she giggled happily as she ran up to you, holding onto your hands, squeezing them as if she was trying to make sure you were indeed present.

Reconnecting with the Bridgerton siblings felt as if you found a part of your life that has been missing for years. They were always close to you, even more so than your own brothers. In the past 8 years since you've been gone, you thought about them every single day, hoping to meet them again. Now that you finally did, you felt whole again.

As you sat at the dining table, right beside Benedict, you tried to concentrate on the delicious food in front of you, but he didn’t seem to share your priorities. He was a man on a mission, trying to distract you. Gently nudging your leg with his for the past 10 minutes didn’t seem to affect you. Or so he thought. You knew what he wanted.

When you were little, he always kept kicking you under the table as soon as he was done eating and he wanted you to follow him. It was an unspoken arrangement between the two of you and at first you were certain he didn’t remember, but the obvious indications and subtle messages reassured you that he knew what he was doing.

You have not been following the conversation between your parents and Mrs. Bridgerton, nor did you want to listen. Your complete attention has been occupied by Benedict and the man had the audacity to feel proud of himself.

“Mama?” you called out to your mother, waiting for her to halt the conversation for a mere second. When she finally looked at you, you continued. “May I please be excused?” your mother gave you a suspicious look before she turned to Benedict as if she knew what was going on. You expected her to say no, but instead a small smile spread across her face.

“Hurry back, darling,” she replied with a knowing look. You wanted to believe it was your own imagination playing a silly game with you, but your mother seemed unexpectedly happy to let you go.

You stood up from the table and headed towards the hall, before you walked behind the stairs and hurried your steps towards the garden. Standing beside the door, all alone, you let out a satisfied giggle. Looking at Benedict made you happy. The simple sight of him made your stomach fill up with thousands of dancing butterflies. But knowing he wanted to sneak around to see you in private just like 8 years ago, it made you feel like a foolish teenager again.

The door opened beside you, revealing a mischievously smiling Benedict. “I thought you didn’t understand,” he scoffed playfully.

“Indeed, I didn’t. I was confused. Surely, I thought you must have forgotten about our sign,” you explained with a wide, happy smile across your face.

“Would never,” he grinned proudly as he held onto your hand and started running with you to the other end of the garden, hidden away from the curious eyes. As soon as you reached a safe distance, he let go of your hand and continued walking ahead of you. However, you didn’t move. You watched his wide shoulders and narrow hips moving as he kept going forward. From a sudden urge, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your cheek against his back, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his coat. A part of you wished he didn’t hear you, fearing rejection coming your way. But another part of you couldn’t hold your feelings inside anymore.

“Do you think I didn’t?” he turned around in your arms with a soft smile across his face, one that you could have easily mistaken for a loving one. “I have been exchanging letters with you for the past 8 years. I thought I would never see you again, but I never thought of ever giving up on you,” he cupped your cheeks, lifting your head up to be able to look into your eyes. Your cheeks heated up, under his intense gaze. You wished to be closer to him, to feel his body against you, but your racing heart and the fear of rejection stopped you.

“What did you think when I arrived, and you recognised me?” you asked curiously.

“Disbelief? Surprise? I couldn’t possibly believe my own eyes,” he chuckled at the sight of your slightly disappointed expression and hunched over back. You were ready to remove your arms from his waist, but he quickly got hold of them and carefully placed them back around himself, before he placed his hands back on your cheeks. “I’m sensing those aren’t the words you expected. Shall I continue?”

“Is there more?” you asked as you curiously straightened your posture again.

“Indeed, there is. I was shocked. I have not seen you, nor have you ever sent a photo for the past 8 years. I could not have imagined in my wildest of dreams to have you become this beautiful. You have always been pretty, but when you arrived and I first laid eyes on you, I certainly forgot how to speak for a second,” he chuckled awkwardly, making you giggle happily. His words could have been enough for you to confess your own love for him, but you stopped yourself.

You knew you weren’t lady-like, but that was you and Benedict’s growing smile reassured you that you could always be yourself around him. However, it didn’t reassure you enough of his own feelings. He certainly made you happy, might have even made you the happiest woman walking the earth. But confessing your own feelings without reassurance of his own, you weren’t that brave.

“Well, my dear lord, you have certainly become charming and handsome yourself,” you wiggled your brows playfully.

“Are you satisfied with my features?” he asked with a proud and confident grin.

“A little change here and there and I think we can work with it, Mr. Bridgerton,” you shrugged playfully, trying to hide your everlasting smile. He inhaled sharply, clear shock painted across his face, his mouth parted involuntarily, but he couldn’t hide the devilish smile in the corner of his lips.

As if your senses knew what he wanted to do, you quickly let go of his waist and started running away from him, expecting some form of a punishment. He didn’t have to run fast to catch you, your dress slowed you enough for him to reach you with one arm, gently pulling you down on the grass with him. He quickly changed position, hovering above you, his weight only held by his arms on each side of your face. The previously happy smile disappeared from your face, instead your complete attention turned to his dangerously close lips, his intoxicating cologne and his eyes that seemed to focus on your mouth.

“Benedict?” you whispered in fear of ruining the moment. “Do you remember our promise from when we were children?” a deep frown sat between his brows at your question.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Back when we were little, we promised to marry each other. Can you recall that?” your tone was more hopeful than ever before, and you were certain Benedict could hear it.

“It was a silly little game back then,” he smiled blissfully, but for you that simple expression which made you the happiest woman a moment ago now felt as if you were stabbed in the chest.

“It was not for me,” you furrowed. You wished he thought of that childish agreement as sincerely as you, but his rejection confirmed your worst fears. He didn’t. You felt your eyes fill up with unshed tears, your throat dangerously suffocating you, your chest becoming heavy as you tried to sit up. You wanted to disappear, feeling foolish about waiting 8 years for a man who couldn’t love you the way you wished he would. But Benedict didn’t move.

“It is certainly not a game to me now,” he added quickly as he realised your tears and distanced behaviour. “I wouldn’t have exchanged letters with you for 8 years should you have not been important to me. I have loved you long before you left, but I couldn’t offer you anything back then. I was a mere child. A foolish 19-year-old boy who was confused about his own feelings. However, now I know what I want.”

“What do you want?” you whispered in astonishment, his words awakening hope in you again, excited butterflies flapping around in your stomach.

“You!” he stated firmly and before you knew it, his lips met yours, kissing you for the first time feverishly. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer. You never knew how it felt to be kissed nor could you ever imagine it. But now that Benedict was kissing you, his lips against yours fitting perfectly made you quickly understand why they regarded kissing someone other than your husband a sin. If it wasn’t for Benedict pulling away, you would have never let him go.

Although slightly breathless, you giggled against his lips hovering above yours. “Shall we repeat that?” you asked boldly, earning a chuckle from him.

“I’d like nothing more, but-” he smiled at you with an adoring look in his eyes. “not now. Tomorrow morning, I shall talk to your father and ask him for your hand in marriage. I will not have anyone stealing you away from me again whether it be your parents or any possible suitor.”

“That vaguely sounds as if you were proposing to me,” you beamed at him, enthralled which earned you a loud laughter from him.

“As soon as your father gives us his blessing, I will propose to you in a way you could never imagine,” he replied proudly, before he pushed himself up and reached for your hand to help you up beside him.

“I can’t possibly wait to see that,” you giggled happily, biting into your bottom lip, trying to contain yourself as you walked back to the mansion. Reaching the entrance of the house, he quickly pulled you into his embrace, his arm holding onto your waist safely as he placed a small peck on your lips.

“Don’t bite your lips,” he heaved a deep sigh as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling your scent. “Surely, I will not do anything until our marriage, but should I ask of you not to do something, please refrain yourself from doing it,” his tone was desperate, waking your curiosity.

“Would you mind stealing a kiss maybe on occasions?” you giggled playfully, earning a heartfelt laughter from him.

“I could never deny that from you,” he planted a kiss on your neck and gently nudged you towards the door. “You have to go back first, I shall follow soon,” he gave you the instructions.

“After you have talked to my father, will you come see me?” you asked hopefully.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Now go,” he ushered you in with a foolish smile across his face. As soon as you disappeared behind the door, his smile grew wider and defying all his maturity he happily jumped around in his place, laughing at the memories you left him with, giddy and slightly nervous about the next day. But for now, he could only think of you and the childish infatuation he once felt for you and over time grew into a strong love, he felt he could barely contain.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglist: (If you would like to be tagged on my Bridgerton fics, feel free to let me know ^^)

@shelby-love @breadqueen95 @keithseabrook27 @nuttytani-reblogs @aspiringsloth20

#Benedict Bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader one shot #benedict bridgerton x reader imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader fanfiction #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #Bridgerton oneshot #Bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton #Eloise Bridgerton #Daphne Bridgerton

976 notes · View notes

just4channie · 3 years

Note

Idk i have this though about being Chan's girlfriend, and go to visit him at the studio after wearing a tight slutty dress in front of the kids, and being a little bratty to have his attention so Chan takes you to his studio for a little punishment.

aaaa anon i think i love you MWA MWA MWA

!! content warning: very jealous chan!, a wee bit of changbin in there cause i’m so weak for that man, light spanking, filthy filthy dirty talk, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (always wear protection folks), light degradation, overstimuation, creampie kind of?

this is not proof-read btw so sorry for any mistakes LMFAO

((Ended up making this longer than I expected OH WELL i couldn’t help myself I hope you enjoy smirk smirk)

Also errhmm it kind of switches between yours and Chan’s POV at one point but not for long)

“How much longer do you need, babe?” Chan asked from the bedroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “We don’t want to be late” he adds.

You set your brush on the bathroom counter, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. You admired your body in your new dress, running your hands over your curves with a confident smile. While the dress wasn’t anything too risqué, it definitely hugged you in all the right places.

“I’m done, I just need to grab a bag and put on some shoes. Can you get my tote bag out of the closet? The blue one?” you responded, turning the light off in the bathroom as you left. Chan didn’t get the chance to look at you yet, already rummaging through your shared closet space. It wasn’t hard to find your bag, since it stuck out like a sore thumb against Chan’s all black wardrobe. In the meantime, you picked out a pair of small black pumps, wanting to wear something classy but comfortable. The silence in the room caught you off guard, no longer hearing Chan moving around. You turned to face him, letting out a breathy laugh as you caught him staring. You stood straight after putting on your shoes, waddling in a circle to show off your full outfit to your boyfriend

“What do you think? I bought it last week at the mall. I’m glad I was invited to the party with you, it finally gave me an exc-” you were cut off by Chan, his strong arms wrapping around your waste. He pulled you close to his chest, bending you back romantically. You laughed more, feeling his nose brush against yours.

“You look beautiful…” he mumbles with a smile, enclosing your lips with his. You cupped his face in your hands as you returned the kiss, humming softly. Chan kept a secure hold on you as he lifted you back up. As the two of you shared a passionate kiss, his hands gently roamed your body, reaching anywhere he could. You giggled after he gave your hips a squeeze, causing you to pull away from his lips. “Let’s get going. We don’t want to be late, right?” you asked, giving his chest a small shove as you repeated his own words from earlier. You took your bag from where Chan left it on the bed, offering your hand for him to take. Chan opted for slinking an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him as the two of you left your apartment. ----- The night went perfectly. Chan and the kids were holding a celebration on their recent kingdom wins, and of course, you were invited. It wasn’t a large party, mostly consisting of staff and a few friends. After stuffing yourself full with food, you and the boys all settled down on the large couch in one of the JYPE building’s lounge rooms. You initially sat down between Chan and Seungmin, the younger man respectfully keeping a small distance from you. You were comfortable with the boys at this point, but you did appreciate that they kept your personal space yours. Chan secretly appreciated it too. He wasn’t normally one to get possessive over you, but things often changed when he had a few drinks in his system. Tonight however, seemed to be going fine. Everyone was in a great mood.

“Y/N, can you do me a favor?” Felix asked you sweetly from across the couch. You turned towards him, nodding your head

“Can you go back to the party and grab some plates and napkins? I want to dig into my cake already” he replies, holding up the plastic cake box he brought with him, a beautifully decorated cake inside.

“Sure, I’ll be right back” you say, getting up from your spot on the couch. Chan’s hand that was wrapped around your waist this whole time, lingered. As you stood up, he let his hand brush over the curve of your ass. You shot him a look, swatting his hand away playfully. He chuckled in response, shrugging his shoulders innocently

“Want help, babe?” he asked, starting to stand from the couch. You stopped him before he could stand up, shaking your head

“That’s okay. It’s just some plates. Won’t take me long” you reply, walking down the hall to where the staff were still gathered. Chan let out a small puff, settling back into the couch. He couldn’t help but watch you walk away, his eyes glued to your form. That dress was driving him crazy. His mind began to wander for a moment, thoughts of previou nights flooding his brain. Your soft moans, the way you fit so perfectly in his lap, or the look on your face as you swallowed around hi-

“I’m getting a drink” Changbin announced, pulling Chan from his daydream. Chan cleared his throat, casually adjusting his position to hide the growing boner in his pants. His eyes followed Changbin as he left the room, heading in the same direction as you had. Normally, Chan wouldn’t think twice of this. He had no reason to be jealous, or to be suspicious, especially of his members. But, something about the smirk on Changbin’s face made his blood boil. Chan chewed his bottom lip, drumming his fingers on his leg.

She should be back by now he thought to himself. It had been nearly 5 minutes since you left. It didn’t take that long to grab a few plates and a handful of napkins. Chan grunted, getting up from the couch. Seungmin, scooted away from him, feeling the heat from his leader’s body. He glanced over at the others, Jisung concealing a snicker behind his hand. They all knew when Chan was jealous.

Chan stalked through the hall, moving towards the main room again. He could hear some voices over the music playing, but most of the staff had left at this point. He couldn’t hear yours though, nor Changbin’s. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes darting around the room until they landed on your form. For a second, all he could see was you. How beautiful you looked in your dress, your thighs peeking out from underneath it. But he couldn’t ignore the arm around your waist. An arm that wasn’t his.

Changbin had approached you shortly after you made it to the main room. It didn’t take you long to find what you needed, but you had gotten distracted by all the food still leftover. You shuffled down the line, picking at a few things happily. That’s when you felt an arm snake around your waist. At first, you thought it was Chan, since he’d been practically glued to your side the whole night. But you were surprised to see it was Changbin.

“You look really nice tonight, Y/N” he said quietly, his voice low in your ear. You tried to hold back the shiver that ran through your body, but you were weak to the way he spoke to you. He kept his hold on you light, though his hand began to roam, slowly sliding to your backside.

“Has Chan told you how good this dress looks on you yet? I hope he has..” he continues, his signature smirk plastered on his face. You respectfully smiled, taking baby steps in the opposite direction. You liked Changbin, but his flirtatious side became too intense when he was drunk. Luckily, you didn’t have to find a way to escape this time, your boyfriend coming just in time.

“Excuse me” Chan interrupted, now standing behind the two of you. Changbin looked over his shoulder, tensing up as soon as he saw the older male. His hand retracted from your body, taking a step away from you. He blurted out an apology to Chan before quickly leaving the room, scurrying to the other room.

“Ah, Channie. Don’t get mad at him, he didn’t do anything weird. You know how he gets” you say, turning to face your boyfriend. He looked at you, his expression unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was mad or calm. It was a little intimidating. He smiled shortly afterwards though, taking hold of your hand. You blinked, surprised by his response

“Come with me real quick, I want to show you something” he says calmly, starting to lead you out of the room. You looked back at the stack of plates you left at the end of the table

“But I haven't brought back the plates yet” you say, following your boyfriend. Not that you really had a choice on where you were going, his grip on your hand getting stronger by the second.

“Forget that” was all he responded with, his tone firm. You knew this tone of voice, but were shocked he was using it here of all places. You didn’t have to look at his face to know his cute smile was gone by now. He was serious. You didn’t say anything else, keeping quiet as Chan led you through the building's halls and to his studio. You bit your lip, stepping into his dark studio after he opened the door. Within seconds of the door closing, Chan was crowding you until your back hit the wall, trapping you between him.

“What did Changbin say to you?” Chan growled, his eyes burning into yours. You shrunk down slightly, your thighs instinctively pressing together. Something about Chan’s behavior instantly turning you on. He only acted this way in the bedroom or upset. Chan kept one hand pressed against the wall, his free hand sliding down your side, stopping to firmly grasp your hips.

“Nothing..he just gave me a compliment, that’s all” you reply with a whimper, your hands finding their way to his shoulders. You felt him relax slightly under your touch, but he didn’t let your delicate hands break his aura.

He leaned down, his lips attaching to the skin just below your ear. He nibbled gently at first, enjoying the soft mewls that left your lips. His kisses got more rough as he moved down your neck. Meanwhile, the hand on your hip followed your arms to his chest. He took hold of one of your hands, guiding it down the expanse of his torso to his pants. He let out a deep groan as he pressed your hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night...Maybe this dress was a bad idea” he sighs against your neck, his voice muffled between his lips against your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as you slowly palmed him through his pants, his hips bucking against your hand. You didn’t have any intention of teasing Chan with your dress, but you knew it was a magnet for the other member’s gazes.

Chan removed himself from your neck, licking his lips as he eyed you down. You opened your eyes, taking your hand away, waiting for his next move. This was a bad decision, however. The moment your hand stopped it’s movement, Chan hissed, grabbing hold of your wrist again.

“ Did I say you can stop?” he asks, lifting one of his furrowed brows. He placed his free hand on your shoulder, pushing you down until you sunk to your knees in front of him. You gasped softly at how rough he was being with you. Still, you complied. Chan let go of your wrist, undoing his belt. Your eyes followed his hands as he fiddled with his belt, unzipping his pants and pushing them down enough for his member to spring free from his briefs. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, the tip red and already oozing precum. Chan lazily stroked himself, staring down at you. “Open up, baby. Seems like I have to remind you who you belong to”

You swallowed, looking up at Chan. You glanced at the door to his studio, but turned your attention back to your boyfriend as he pressed the tip of his cock against your lips. You poked your tongue out, running it over the swollen tip of his member. Then, you opened your mouth wide, letting Chan guide his dick past your lips, the weight of his cock on your tongue. You bobbed your head slowly, finding a steady rhythm as you sucked him off. You were surprised he wasn’t helping you. Normally he’d have a hand in your hair, moving you along his cock at a pace he liked. He didn’t touch you this time, hunched over you, his forearms supporting his body against the wall. You moaned as you took him in deeper, swallowing around him as his member reached far back into your throat. Still, you kept a slow pace, not wanting to push yourself. Chan groaned above you, small pants leaving his lips. Every so often,his hips would twitch, jolting forward. You knew he was holding himself back. You’ve noticed, with all the times you and Chan slept together, that he had the tendency to soften up with you. Your foreplay together was always sexy and rough, but when he was finally between your legs, you couldn’t keep up. It was cute, the way he couldn’t hold back the softie he was inside, but you knew there was a beast within him.

An idea came to your head as you pulled off of him, making sure to release his dick with a pop from your lips. Chan looked down at you, his eyes blown out from pleasure. You stroked his cock slowly, still inches away from your face. He was about to speak up, but you cut him off

“Actually...he did say I was sexy..” you teased, turning your head to leave sloppy kisses along his shaft. He growled deep from his throat, his eyes narrowing at you. You ignored him, placing one last kiss against his tip before leaning back against the wall, peering back up at him “You haven't said that to me all night..” you finished with a pout. Chan rolled his eyes before bending down, picking you up quickly. You yelped, being carefully tossed onto the couch. You began to turn over, looking for Chan, but you were held in place, one of Chan’s hands gently pressing your face against the cushion of the couch while the other lifted your hips up. You felt the couch shift behind you as Chan positioned himself behind you. You whined, feeling your dress ride up your hips. Chan laughed quietly, his hand trailing down your back to join the other on your hips, the both of them working on lifting your dress up.

“So, you were just going to keep that a secret from me, that Changbin called you sexy? I bet you’d think of that when you’re lonely at home without me” he grunts, his hands groping at your ass “When you’re wishing for my cock to stuff you full, do you think of him? You do know he’s nothing compared to me, right? No one can satisfy you like I can. You were made for me” Chan’s rough hand came down on your ass swiftly, leaving a sting. You moaned softly, burying your head into the cushion of the couch as he sweetly rubbed the spot before laying another spank down, another moan escaping you. “Aaah~ So my little slut likes to get her ass spanked? I’ll keep that in mind” he purrs, his hands spreading your legs further apart.

You shuddered, feeling Chan press his thumb against your soaked panties, rubbing small circles against your clothed clit. “So wet for me already...or did you get this way from Changbin? Did you really get this excited over him whispering in your ear?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth in your ears.

Chan moved your panties aside, plunging two of his long fingers into your heat without warning. Not even the couch could muffle the cry that left you. You turned your head to the side, beginning to pant as Chan mercilessly pumped his digits in and out of you, his fingers sliding in and out of you effortlessly from how wet you were. The curl of his fingers sent jolts through your body, your high approaching much faster than you wanted it to. Chan noticed the way your walls clenched around his fingers and how desperate your moan of his name had become, so he slowed down, eventually taking his fingers out of you. You bit your lip, your hips twitching from the stimulation, now desperate for more.

“Please Channie” you whined, turning your head enough so you could look at him over your shoulder. You shook your hips ro rile him up more, watching as his eyes followed your plump ass. “Unless...you don’t think you can fuck me like Changbin would” you breathed, biting your lip.

Chan puffed up, grabbing hold of your panties with one hand and tugging them down, exposing your glistening folds to him. “Don’t fucking say his name anymore” he replied, taking his cock into his hand. He pumped himself a few times before pushing into you, barely giving you any time to adjust before he stuffed the rest of his length into you. You choked on your own moan, the burning pleasure of his cock stretching you out enough to silence you. Chan breathed heavily behind you, granting you a moment to catch up. His hands lovingly roamed over your hips and waist until you let out a small whimper, finally needing him to move. Without any warning, he began to thrust into you, pulling out almost entirely before pounding into you. He kept a steady pace, grunts and moans of your name flying out of his mouth. Your moans mixed with his, the pace and angle of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to your edge. You clenched around Chan’s cock with each trust, your nails digging into the couch.

“Gonna cum baby? I know you want to..” he pants, not slowing down his relentless pace “Go ahead, babe. Cum all over my cock” he moans, his cock throbbing inside of you. His words alone sent you over, strings of moans leaving your lips as you came, shaking in his grasp.

Chan surprised you again, his hips never ceasing to drill into you, even as you cried out from the overstimulation. It hurt, but you were so fucked out you couldn’t bother to say anything. Especially not with your boyfriend literally growling behind you like an animal. After a few more powerful thrusts, Chan pulled out of you, just in time to paint your folds with his cum, his seed dripping down your thighs afterwards. You groaned, your legs giving out finally as you laid flat down on the couch. Chan chuckled, fixing his clothes before carefully picking you up. He slid your panties back on, making sure to catch any of his cum with them. You winced at the feeling of your now even more soaked panties against your cunt. You looked at Chan, you lip quivering slightly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll go home now” he says softly, peppering your face with kisses. You melted under him, standing up with a small wobble. Chan wrapped his arm around your waist like he had the whole night, keeping you steady. He leaned down, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering into it

“Of course, so I can fuck my cum back into you”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #chan smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #a wee anon

260 notes · View notes

chocoladieimagines · 3 years

Note

If you’re taking reqs may I request Sanemi x black fem reader who is also a demon slayer and short tempered as him?

Absolutely! In the way of being short tempered, I would think of a s/o who isn’t afraid of speaking her mind if need be. So someone who often doesn’t agree with Sanemi’s actions at times since he can be stubborn and quick to lash out. Also doing things without thinking rationally since it can be extremely difficult to dissuade him from something after harboring so much hatred. Basically, whenever she’s around him, it’s just a totally different side of her she shows towards him that he’s just like ‘damn what I do to her’ lol.

Sanemi Shinazugawa x Black!Reader

- You were first to be born to two parents familial of a powerful military caste.

- During the feudal period, samurai were so highly valued in feudal Japan thanks to their lifetime of training in the art of war, their monopoly on the tools of war, and the use of these two values as officers of peace. Without these valuable traits and possessions, society could no longer justify their existence

- The Emperor Meiji realized that Japan was far behind the western nations in technology and that in order to survive as an independent country, they would need to make dramatic changes to catch up.

- They decided that the division of Japanese society into separate social classes hindered modernization. The task of removing the feudal class system was by removing the informal social superiority of the samurai and integrating them into the rest of society as equals.

- Eventually, they came to accept their new station in life and integrated with the rest of society. They became artisans, merchants, and farmers. Many joined the National army as officers or became civil servants.

- However, several people born in foreign countries were granted the title of samurai. The period of the Nanban (Southern Barbarian) in Japan from 1543 to 1614, is named such to mark the arrival of the first Europeans to Japan and ensuing establishing of certain relations of power and culture. The slaves were not only work horses of heavy labor but some were clerics, translators, interpreters and guides.

- There were different kinds of “black”, different hues and heritages as black bodies as slaves were not only from the African continent but also Malaysian and South Asian negrito tribals, black Asian aboriginal tribal peoples were enslaved by white nations during the colonial period. At the same time, Northern or East Asian attempted continuously to invade and conquer their southern neighbors, by land and sea. A man by the name of Takeshi, a black Asian, became a retainer of a daimyo, a great lord who were vassals of the shogun.

- Since the Southeast Asians and South Sea peoples were of darker complexion and with some having similar physical features with Africans, they were all considered “black” by the northern Asian invaders and traders. Condescending attitudes towards the Southeast Asians, Filipinos, and all tribal people, came concurrently with the desire to rule and be superior. Takeshi’s tribe was conquered and became part of lower caste groups and ethnic groups in Japan. After these ethnic groups were obliterated and assimilated with the Japanese as “one” people, Takeshi became born into a samurai family.

- When a child grew up in a samurai family, he was expected to be a warrior when he grew up, so much of his childhood being spent practicing different martial arts. This became respected of him as a Samurai, since not many black people would have the opportune of joining the upper echelons of Japan’s warrior class, the samurai. However, after samurais became abolished, Takeshi’s family still instilled justice and educated the populace of relatives to keep their operations secretive. They kept the tradition of Samurai because of the arisen of demons, since the creatures live in secrecy upon the outskirts of the population, at large being ignorant to their existence.

- By hiding from persecutors, they were closer to villages or clans which trickles down to you as a descendant of Takeshi.

- Your mother was a female warrior, who would be referred as the Onna-Musha if it were premodern times. The Onna-Musha or Bugeisha were trained in martial arts and strategy, and fought alongside the samurai to defend their homes, families and honors.

- After you were born, you were also trained in the same method with a Naginata; a versatile, conventional pole arm with a curved blade at the tip. It allowed onna-bugeisha better balance given their small stature.

- Since killing demons meant forging Nichirin blades out of Scarlet Crimson Ore (which absorbed sunlight to such an extent that decapitation was all that was needed to kill a demon), your family learned to utilize mystical combat in multiple forms of martial arts.

- By using their own life force energy, they may create, shape and manipulate the energy of elements otherwise, specifically solar energy. It appears as a beautiful luminance around the blade of your naginata; resembling the gaseous form of a flame as it shows iridescence of illuminating colors.

- After you were trained from your parents’ devotion of you having self defense, your siblings were born into the world. One by one looking up to you as their role model—someone worthy of imitation. Due to being accompanied by your little brothers and sisters, you felt a sense of a gravitational pull to them. Feeling the necessity of ensuring their safety and security, immutably driving you to respond to even their needs like it was a maternal instinct. Which included developing a distressed mentality that precipitated firing off on someone in defense of an argument (usually for the protection of others).

- Your family was unbeknownst of the Demon Slayer Corps until you encountered a tall, muscular, and slender man with spiky white hair and large lavender eyes. You were surprised to see that his body and face were covered in scars which looked to have “accrued” after years of his (seemingly) encyclopedic knowledge against fighting demons.

- He looked at you strangely as well; you wore a slit silky white kimono patterned by green bamboo lattice and one arm wriggled free of a sleeve, cinched with a matching green sash. Your freed arm allowed view of your sarashi wrapped tightly around your chest as your arm was lightly armored in iron plates and kusari (iron chain mail) sewn together in layers. A conical bamboo hat was loosely tied around your neck so the hat could lie on your back, showing your features to him.

- His eyes ogled you from your Geta sandals and your smooth bared leg to the luster of your garment shining the curvatures of your hips. He silently thought the expression of your features was attractive, especially the thick coily tresses of your hair that framed your face. The way it outwardly levitated from gravity due to its curly strands was particularly unique to him.

- You didn’t like the way he stared at you. It felt like you were on display for his eyes to undress you. “What is your business here?” You inquired, pulling the man’s notice on your hand clenching your weapon. It was said prior that more demons became present near your rural areas. You went on duty to track where they were coming from—inside the woods—only to find the man beheading them and stringing some up for daybreak. He possibly did it to torture them.

- “I should be asking you the same thing.” He scoffed. “Surely you weren’t coming to kill those demons, especially in that attire. Quite provocative for the Demon Slayer’s uniform.” “Excuse me? Provocative? For what uniform? I am not schooled like some student. And what if I am a demon slayer?” You spoke in incredulousness. It seemed so misogynistic to you that you were first judged on the clothing honorary to your tradition. You wondered if he thought it deprived from your abilities.

- He chuckled as if you just made a joke, “You wouldn’t last a day if you think being a Demon Slayer is about getting dolled up. It looks like you’re trying to attract demons more than fend them off.” “And who are you to judge how I dress? Do you think that flaunting your abs will counter my ability of kicking your ass?” “What? These?” He opened his gakuran jacket more to expose the six pack of his abdominal muscles, feeling heat escalate to your cheeks as he beheld more of the scars on his body. He then responded to your gaze with a smirk, “How kind of you to make a comparing example of something that’s attractive. You can touch them too if you’d like.”

- Was he flirting with you? First, he criticized you on you looks, now he decided to taunt you? You grasped your naginata and spaced your feet into a stance. You grabbed the polearm with your backhand over your thigh and your front hand gripped higher up the weapon away from the body. You kept your posture straight for a proper height of the blade.

- He deviously snickered, “What a naughty girl. You know it’s against the rules for demon slayers to fight each other upon confrontation.” “What rules? On our turf, you are on our property. Which means you have the obligation to move or be moved.” You denounced. “Such big talk. I’ll end this quickly so master will barely see it as a fight.”

- With that, he dashed towards you, surprising you to see he didn’t unsheathe his weapon. The way he zipped towards you, he was meaningful of close combat at short range, unlike your naginata which coupled with greatly increased distance gave the spearman a real advantage. You decided in quick process to rely on your agility and powerful kicks as you channel your energy through your attacks. It would greatly enhance and empower yourself and your executions for more efficacy or potency for damage.

- You evaded his swift attack by being able to propel yourself on your naginata, mutually measuring out the steadiness between your weight and the pole. By this, you were able to “squat” on your weapon from above and consider the next attack to perform. Within the time frame of him realizing you’ve dodged his move, you swung your body and temporarily featured upper body strength in defying gravity. You paralleled your body with the ground and for a second’s notice distributed your weight with the naginata—landing a concussive kick into his side. The impact knocked him back a far distance, colliding into a tree.

- You quickly ran towards him, fluently combining fast and slow slashes with side and forward dashes to create variants of attacks and to force him to remain in defense and safe distance from you. Yet, he moved instantaneously in response to his stimulus, being able to try to control his reaction time and adapt into some of your methods of thinking/fighting. Thus, he “used your strength” against you, making the precision of composite punches to your face. You hit the ground, seeing him hover over your body and holding down your arms, “Like I said, our match is over. You will come back with me to face consequences.”

- You managed to pull your legs to your chest and kick him away from you, “I don’t answer to you! I don’t even know who you are or this place you’re loyal to.” You kick your body back up, following back into a stance to prepare you for anymore engagement. “Quit acting so damn confused, you’re a demon slayer aren’t you?” He remarked questionably. You frowned in frustration, wondering if he was subliminally asking something. “Well technically yes, but obviously not in the definition you mean.” You said.

- The man deeply sighed, “Women. You’re so flip-floppy. How can you nod your head yes but say no?” You rolled your eyes, “Because you asshole, I still kill demons, just not in the same uniform as you.” “Hmph, only the swordsman of the Demon Slayer Corps utilize nichirin blades that are powerful enough to kill demons. How could you not be in the organization if you can still kill them?” “My family and I have been living in secrecy from the government because as descendants, our predecessors still practiced the tradition of the samurai. We resorted towards rural settlements by richer jungle to be able to hide our weapons and practices extant because of demons. We’ve never heard of this ‘Demon Slayer Corps’ since we thought we were the only ones being militant and knowledgeable of demons’ existence.”

- Sanemi had many questions but thought it would be wise to save them for Oyakata-Sama. Suddenly, a crow began to drift above you two and utter a series of grating caws, “Ca-Caw! Sanemi Shinazugawa is to report back to Oyakata Sama! Ca-Caw!” “I hate that fucking bird.” You heard Sanemi mumble. “You know my name so you’re coming with me. The Demon Slayer Corps is more sustainably adequate for you anyway.”

- As much as you wanted to protest what he meant in clarification, you knew what he meant. If you were to join the Demon Slayer Corps, you could raise more money for your family, since you were practically cut off from the rest of Japan’s economies. You live without the government’s support which meant that without roads, markets, banks and connections to the rest of the country, no new economies would take root. Instead, you were labor-intensive; plantations that exploit cheap labor available in nearby villages and towns, while the majority of the crops grown are mostly shipped to global markets.

- Upon meeting “Oyakata-Sama”, you hesitantly followed Sanemi’s lead in kneeling before the gentleman. You didn’t want to be rude possibly staring at what appeared to be an illness or disease he had befallen. Nevertheless, he had a gentle and calm demeanor that enraptured you. “Master, I am pleased to see you in good health. I fervently pray for your continued good fortune,” Sanemi wished, suprisingly showing a side of reverence for him. “During my mission, I happened to encounter one of the villagers who says her and her family are samurai and are capable of defending themselves against demons although they have no prior knowledge or connections with the Demon Slayer Corps.”

- “How interesting, especially since the samurai were abolished during the Meiji Restoration at least 44 years ago. May I know your name?” He asked while you were partially listening, due to being soothed by his calming voice. Sanemi elbowed you to catch your attention, “Oh! My name is Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you, sir.” “Indeed a samurai clan. I must know the reason why you and your family decided to keep paying homage to these military warriors.”

- You explained everything about your family to the man; your fighting styles, your way of practicing, your attire, etc. Sanemi “patiently” stayed by your side since he wouldn’t leave without Oyakata’s orders. Although your apparel was a bit disheveled from earlier, Sanemi still slightly thought you pulled the look off, expertly. There was something about your unique fashion that made him feel warmth, magnetism, enticement—weird. For someone as abrasive, hot-blooded and stubborn as he was, he never thought he would be trusted with the idea of intimacy between another person. His cold personality resulted in losing too many people he cared about in the past. Opening himself up again for someone would be too much, especially in a world where it was a war between demons and humans.

- “Sanemi, could you please show Y/N around to sway her interests of joining our alliance?” Oyakata requested, awakening him out of his thoughts. “Of course Master.” Despite starting off on the wrong foot, he did as told, guiding you straightforwardly in detail and didn’t stop if you wanted to pause to look at something. His pace was haste, deciding to take in your surroundings while you had the chance to. Many children participated in the organization; the uniforms were coed between either wearing pleated skirts or hakama pants with the same gakuran top you saw Sanemi in. They appeared to differentiate in colors, Sanemi’s a green tint in the sunlight in the place of some of the darker ones others wore—navy blue, purple, black or even a brown. They also practiced kenjutsu ; where a bokken or wooden sword was used as a safe substitute for katanas for sparring.

- Oyakata informed you about the Demon Slayer Corps so as you were briefly toured, you would understand the things you looked at. But seeing the children risking their lives after the cost of their families, awfully reminded you of your siblings. Back at home, your parents would mostly tend to the domestic chores as they relied on you as one of their warriors to protect the village. Then, they could keep watch of the rest of their children, often something you felt the necessity of doing. Watching over your family. When you noticed Sanemi left you, you went to try and interact with the rest of the Hashira; introducing yourself, producing conversation and helping out with chores if you could.

- You made the most conversation with Shinobu Kocho, Insect Hashira. She displayed a laid back demeanor, a smile frequently present on her face which exhibited a bright and cheery nature. But it facaded her enjoyment of teasing others to the point of being rather sadistic through the jokes she made. You weren’t sure to shocked or to laugh, afraid of how the others would see you. “Oh it’s ok, you can laugh. Especially in front of Tomioka.” She giggled. You breathed a sigh of relief and let a half suppressed snigger peep from your lips.

- Then you cleared your throat, “Is it okay if I ask you about Sanemi Shinazugawa?” Shinobu looked at you questionably, “Why? Are you afraid of him? Trust me, as scary as he may want to make himself look, it’s just a front.” “No, he doesn’t scare me. I initiated a fight with him earlier because of some of the things he said. My people didn’t need to be saved by him, especially if it would’ve been only to disrespect us. It’s like a smack in the face of how we’ve been raising ourselves to be true warriors.” “Yes, I apologize for Shinazugawa. He can do things out of line, unfortunately more times than we know it. But his cold exterior armors a soft soul. I’ve treated his younger brother, Genya; he can be just as ill-tempered and non-cooperative as his brother but he is apparently shy around women, especially my girls, Sumi, Kiyo, and Naho. He told me that he was in search of Sanemi, eldest of seven children, after their family was killed. He remembers Sanemi saved him from their mother but became isolated because he labeled him as a murderer in panic. Up to now, since he is little brother, Shinazugawa throws harsh rebukes at him because he cares for him. Think of it like a bully, most times they’re bowling you by hurting and insulting you, but it can also be their way of showing interest in you or an attraction in the way of giving you a hard time.”

- “I understand. Thank you, Shinobu.” You bowed. “Your welcome, Y/N.” Unbeknownst to you, Sanemi heard your conversation nearby, since he randomly felt he should locate where you were. Later, you bowed to Oyakata when you were on your way back home. He welcomed you to feel free of accompanying them anytime you wanted, they had open arms if you needed protection. Shortly after you left, you felt someone yank you by your arm. You quickly freed yourself by twisting your hand out of the opening where their thumb and finger met.

- “Since when did you have permission to touch me? And why are you trying to pull me somewhere no one can see us?” You questioned Sanemi. “Don’t think that I like you. Don’t think that after what that girl told you that you know me or that I won’t pull my punches.” He warned. “Trust me, I wouldn’t think for a day that I would stoop myself so low.” “And what do you mean by that?” “However you take it. I wouldn’t be concerned about someone who sees me like anyone else or be a doormat.” “Then why are you putting yourself as an example if it wouldn’t affect you?” “Cause it wouldn’t.” “Maybe it would if you’re trying to morally describe yourself.” “Why are you here? Just to make a threat or to walk me home? I can take of myself thank you, remember by how I bested you in combat.”

- “Oh please, I was the one who ended up on top. If our fight lasted you would be talking to that girl for a different reason.” He said, making you laugh. “That’s quite optimistic of you but never underestimate your enemy Shinazugawa. We shall have a rematch, no?” He smirked with a devilish grin, “If that’s your death wish then I shall be your reaper.” His response entertained you and during your exchange, he ended up walking with you home regardless. “Thank you for the laughs Sanemi. It will be fun when I fight you here tomorrow.” You winked.

- That next day, upon his visitation, he attempted to surprise attack you. You successfully dodged it, “Nice day we’re having.” “Hmm.” Then got a view of each other. He noticed you wore a white kosode with sode-kukuri (cords) through the sleeves and opened shoulders. Muna-himo (strings) were attached to each lapel and tied in front to keep the garment closed with your black hakama. He wondered if you could’ve changed into more of a practical outfit because of what he commented. Yet, you moved just as fast and did well at keeping him from getting close enough to impact you. He found an opening and kicked you in the face, causing you to fall.

- “I have a feeling you like being on top of me.” You said to him as he tried to tower you. You rolled your torso into a circular path on the ground and twirled your legs into a v shape. When you tripped Sanemi, it was your turn to crawl on top of him out of humorous reasons. “I like where this fight is heading.” He mischievously thought. “Yeah for me. I disarmed you and you’re in my submission.” He chuckled, “Cause I let you, that’s what makes the fun of it.” He winked then bucked his hips into you. You gasped, taking the opportunity to punch him continuously in his face. Not because of what he did but for being merciless from pulling each other’s punches.

- He didn’t put his guard up but lets the blood trickle from his nose and into the junction of his lips. “Not a scratch.” He smugly smiled, licking the blood away from above his lip. When you treated him afterwards, he formed more respect for you and subconsciously allowed his feelings to pervade his system. He made more nonsensical jokes to hear you laugh and listened to your opinions more than his usual stubborn self. He alarmed you of some of the threats that were coming your way, indirectly inviting you to join him on his missions. It built cooperation between you two, as well as more of a bond than constantly contesting everything. Although, a time when you argued, you hugged him as a way to reassure him that you cared and considered him as your friend. It made you laugh to see him resist from hugging you back.

- You showed more of a friendlier side to him as you would to your family. You introduced him to your siblings which joyfully reminded him of his family, including Genya. One time, while you two were watching the sunset, you saw that one of your little sisters was hesitating to come talk to him. “It’s ok, he won’t bite.” You encouraged her, pulling his attention towards her. She showed him numerous flowers and asked him questions of what was his favorite things. It warmed your heart to see a compassionate side of him as he answered all of them, including you as answer. That made it much aware to you of his feelings for you.

- “Did you know what I meant?” He asked you that night. “Yes, thank you, you’re my favorite too.” You smiled. “But I mean it,” He said, giving you back your hug like you did before. “I hesitated to accept the feeling of love because I don’t want to lose anyone again.” You looked up from the warmth of his chest and into the conveyance of his eyes; now filled with adoration and worship. “Trust me love, I’m not going anywhere.” And you two kissed.

Thank you for reading! I apologize for the late response, I’ve been busy a lot but I wanted to do as you requested! I wish everyone a wonderful day!🤎🍫

#demon slayer x poc!reader #demon slayer x black reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #sanemi fluff #sanemi x reader #hashira x reader #anime x black!reader

354 notes · View notes

clementinesjourney · 3 years

Text

I’m not crazy - Pt. 5 - First mission

A.N: Hi guys, I'm really new to this. I read a heeeeelll lot of stories lately from wonderful people on here, and i started having this one forming on my mind. I didn't see any like this, but if there's one (or more) out there thats similar, then im sorry, and just know that i never came across it. Also im really thankful if this EVER gets reposted, but please do not stole it and put it on other platforms. Thank you!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: Minors do not interact. sex, oral (f recieving), and the same as always a whole lot of cute.

Words: 2,2k

Summary: You got attacked by terrorists, mistaking you for someone else, then things escalate when they find out you have some powers, even you didn't know you had. Luckily you are in good hands by then.

Series masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two months have passed, mostly with training, dates, sleeping beside eachother, and well.. just kissing. You felt the tension, but you were afraid... It was years since you last had sex.. Let alone you had two super-soldiers now to satisfy... not even mentioning their... sizes. You didn’t have sex, but you werent stupid, you knew that those weren’t pocket lights or phones... You weren’t sure you would be ready for THOSE anytime soon.

You had to go to a party to make sure all the quests are safe, it was one of Tony’s friends, so of course he had all the means to pay the whole team just to play security at the party. The briefing was simple enough. Dress pretty, fit in, be invisible, make sure nobody gets hurt. Being invisible was easy enough for you. This was your first mission. The boys were more nervous than you about it though.. They didn’t want you to fight, or get hurt. They wouldn’t forgive themselves for not being able to protect you. Tony told them that you are a part of the team, and unless you decide to stay at the hospital ward and only use your powers to heal the avengers after missions, they can’t do a thing to prevent you from being on missions.

The night of the party came. You and Nat were getting ready, stealing bits of Wanda’s makeup... well you technically didn’t have to steal.. Wanda and Nat were running around you doing your hair and your makeup, throwing different ballgowns and coctail dresses at you.

-Girls... is this really neccessary? Its work, its just a party. I mean, do i really have to wear everything lace, and like bodycon and shit? Those emerald green dress is so thight i couldnt even wear a bra underneath... Tell me if im preparing more than what i’ve been told...

-oh shush.. its an easy job, and with all of us there, and by that i mean all the boys there, we’re basically just have to be pretty and enjoy ourselves.. Tony didn’t said we can’t dress to kill... -Said Nat.

-Besides, how long has it been? like two-three months? Give the poor men a little show even if you didn’t get to taste you after... -said Wanda with a wink.

You were blushing now... Sure you had your own battles with the whole how and when situation about having sex with them, also the logistics... But you never actually thought about how it must feel to them. You sleep in the same bed everynight, they saw you in your bra and panties thousand times already.. You saw the want in their eyes, but they never actually touched you in a teasing way...

-I mean... i could, but what if they will be upset? I don’t wanna be all tease and nothing else... I’m not sure im ready... i mean.. its two supersoldiers.... what are the logistics? - you and the girls giggled.

-okay okay... pass me that green dress...

and with that you put on the emerald dress.. it had a low cut back, the skirt part falled to your ankles, hugging your form just perfect, showing off the curves you had. no bra it is then you thought. Then put on your black heels and you were ready to go.

You all showed up in different groups. The girls were told to mix with the partygoers, look for anyone suspicious, the boys were told to were tuxes and earpieces and look like any other security men ever seen.

Wanda, Nat and you entered hand in hand, all dressed up and pretty, headed straight to the bar, getting glasses of champagne, giggling cause of an old story Nat told you on the way.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Damn Stevie, do you see what i see?

- i’d be blind not to see that... and if you look around everybody else does, damn they are practically drooling... If it goes on this way they will need a securitiy to stop me from killing these bastards Bucky...

- i mean... couldn’t we show them that she’s ours? that might calm them down a bit...

-oh just wait until the dance starts Buck... just wait.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were on your 4th glass of champagne when the music started. It was a slow one... You looked around trying to find your boys, but well... not as if you’d see further than a few meters. You were a lightweight drinker. A man with an extremely arrogant face came into view..

-May i have this dance pretty girl? -the girls behind you were giggling already... in these few months they got to know that if you’re drunk you can be pretty sassy, or mean, or petty, or all of the above..

-I’m sorry but you are not qualified for that.

-oh and why is that? i mean... i have money if you are that kind of girl.. i could give you anything you want.. be mine and anythin you want is yours..

-oh i already have everything i want..

with a flick of your finger you got in the man’s mind, making him do whatever you wanted... so he reached for the icebucket, took the opened champagne bottle to the table, and shoved the bucket of ice on his head earning a bit too much attention..

You turned around proud of yourself, wanting to leave when you bumped into a hard chest. looking up you saw a smiling Steve. He kissed you on the cheek, then looked at the now angry man behind you.

-Hey honey, searching for trouble huh? - said Steve.

-Oh no, he just thought i can be bought with his filthy money, but don’t worry i have it under control. Where’s Buck?

-He’s in the far back, but he wanted me to tell you that it’s really hard to concentrate on the mission with you looking like a whole meal... and i have to say i agree with him. I just want to hide you so they can’t look at you,... -he leaned closer to whisper in your ear as he started to slowdance with you right then and there - or maybe bring you back to our room and see whats underneath this dress... - you blushed hard at this last bit.. a shiver run down your spine... It had to be this night... or right now, you don’t care how, it was enough torture for all three of you..

You leaned closer to whisper in his ear:

- or maybe we could sneak out or something.. it’s quite boring in here.. - you then nipped at his earlobe earning a low growl from him, his hands holding your waist a bit thighter..

- don’t tempt me pretty girl... i know you’re drunk .. but hell i’m not sure that if you continue i would be able to stop myself..

- maybe i don’t want you to.. i know i’m drunk... but its maybe just that bit of confindence boost that i needed..

-shit... baby....

He started to drag you towards the elevator while you giggled. The girls winking at your from behind. The third floor contained your rooms, since the compound was too far. He bursted in your shared room, pushing you up the door he just closed kissing you hard, full of want.

-tell me to stop anytime peach...

-i don’t want you to.. - you said in between pants. Hands roaming around eachothers bodies, yours already reaching for the buttons on his shirt, while he showers your neck in kisses and little bites as if he couldnt get enough of you.

He reached at the straps on your back, undoing it, your dress slowly falling to your feet. Steve took a step back, drinking in the sight. His girl in nothing but a pair of lace panties. He smelt your arousal too.. You wanted him bad.. You took a step closer, snaking your hands around his neck, his hands immediately reaching for you, lifting you up while grabbing your butt, kissing you as if you were oxygen and he needed you to breath.. He then put you down on the bed on your back..

- i need to taste you.. i bet you taste just as sweet as you smell...is it okay if i--?

You didn’t answer.. You hide your face in your hands, and lift up your butt so he can get rid of the very last piece of clothing. As he hovered over your aching core, and you felt his hot breath you couldn’t help but let out a whimper.

- oh you want me to start huh? needy little thing... - he said with a smirk..

He then slowly started with a lick up your slit ending with a small circle around your clit. Steve never heard a sound more feral yet sweet from anyone, let alone you. It might have been the years of nothing, or just the experience of Steve.. but you nearly came right then and there...

What either of you didn’t know that practically everybody could hear your moans and whimpers through the comm because as you threw Steve’s clothing to the floor, it pressed, making everyone able to hear what you were doing..

While Bucky was smoking he took the comm out, earning a 5 minute break from the mission, to calm himself down. It is really hard to concentrate with you here. Thats when Sam joins him on the balcony.

- Man.. what are you doing here?

- i’m having a break.. why?

- did you take out your earpiece?

- yes.. why? did something happen to (y/n) or Steve?

-i meaan... *trying to hold back a laught* you could say that.. i think you should go to your room now tho... i’ll cover for you.

Thats when a worried Bucky put his earpiece back and heard the angelic little moans, and Steve’s more feral ones.

You didn’t even hear the door open and close, you just suddenly felt kisses on your neck, but it couldn’t be Steve since he was working on your second orgasm between your legs..

-such a bad little girl.. leaving me out like this..leaving the comm on for everyone to hear...

-*whimper* h-hey baby. i-im sorry.. di-didnt mean to..

He then kissed you hard on the lips, trying to work his clothes. When he released you, Steve came up to kiss you, thumb running circles on your clit.

-i think she’s ready Buck.. wanna go first? little compensation for not telling you.. -said Steve while lazily pumping his already hard member.

-Oh ya bet.. i’ve been waiting for this for so long.. - he started to kiss down your neck.. collarbones.. - dreamt of what it’ll feel like... -

- please Buck.. - he then lined up the head of his aching member to your center. He pushed in so frustratingly slowly... when he was fully in, he stopped moving, letting you adjust to his size.. Thats when your second orgasm hit you, clenching down at him.

- gosh princess so thight and even coming on my cock already.. i never wanna leave your sweet little pussy...

after earning another sinful moan from you, he started to move... you knew the third orgasm wouldn’t be far..

Bucky started to move faster, chasing his own release... you couldn’t bear it any longer, your nails were scratching his back as your third orgasm arrived, not long his followed.. after riding your orgasms out, he pulled out.. you whimpered at the loss of his member. Bucky laid next to you, caressing your cheeks, kissing the tip of your nose.. You forgot about the world in the bliss he gave you..

-Do you think you are ready for more honey? - asked Steve from the other side. He was already close. Watching his two favourite people making love nearly made him come alone anyway.

-mhmm -you said between sighs, trying to steady your breathing. with that you turned around and got on top of Steve. He was surprised at first, but smirked at your newfound confidence, hands immediately going to your hips, making you slide on his lenght, after a second he slid right in earning a loud moan.

- i won’t last long.. damn so thight..

you started rocking your hips in circles, then back and forth, feeling your fourth orgasm building up already... You never even had one orgasm... let alone four in a night.. You never ever wanted this to end.

Soon enough you collapsed on Steve’s chest after both of you came.. His hands running lazy circles on your back, leaving goosebumps everywhere.

-Do you want to wash up babe? - asked Bucky, if you could keep your eyes open you could see all the love in his eyes, as you were finally theirs fully.

- I think she’s asleep Buck.. i hope we didn’t hurt her much. But sure as hell i won’t let her leave our room when we get back..

- Oh Steve ya bet.. She’s the most perfect being i ever met. I don’t think i could live without you two anymore, nor do i want to..

-Me neither Bucky.. i’m the happiest i’ve ever been..

Thats when you stir in your sleep, you didn’t get up, just mumble a little i love you in your sleep, and the boys could cry from happiness..

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@tripletstephaniescp

#stucky x reader #stucky x reader smut #stucky x you #bucky x reader #steve x reader #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers

70 notes · View notes

debbierhea · 3 years

Text

and the world around us shatters / better call saul / wc: 2392 / kimmy jimmy omaha cinnabon reunion / special thanks to @kimberly-wexler for the beta <3

Summary:

She’d been searching. For years.

She’d been searching. For years. Hired a PI and then another. Scoured every database she had credentialed access to and then a few she didn’t. Even adopted a cat to soothe the loneliness, lull the throbbing emptiness she felt in her chest. She’d had one as a girl once, a stray really, whom she loved. But this cat was as sulky and capricious as she had become and no matter how committed she was to ignoring it, the ulterior motive of pet adoption was glaring, if not to anyone else, to her.

After three months of No. Not like this. You can’t. Leave it alone. Don’t get involved, the ill-tempered tabby was Kim’s foot in the door. It was a Thursday when she sat across from his veterinarian, cat on the exam table, and said, “I need your help.”

“What kind of help are we talking?” He eyed her, stroked the tabby between her ears.

“I’m looking for someone.” Silence followed.

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that.”

“You know him. Jimmy McGill.”

His eyebrows rose. More silence.

“Well, can you help me or not?”

“You know it’s not always a matter of can I help.”

Kim tilted her chin, raised her eyes to meet his, unflinching. “Does that mean you won’t help me?”

“Hm?” The cat was purring into his hand, licking his thumb. “Oh, no. Just that my price may be something you’re unwilling to pay.”

She swallowed. “That’s not possible.”

“Okay then,” he nodded, stuck out his hand. She shook it.

Now, she was wandering through a sea of midwesterners in puffy coats and mittens, dusting snow off their shoulders, chattering about the weather. She hasn’t been back to this part of the country in years and it oddly feels like a homecoming, though she stopped considering Nebraska home the moment she left. It was simply a place she had lived, never one that offered family or comfort or love. There were sparse memories of joy with the odd classmate and a fond recollection of the first grade teacher who encouraged her to read, helped her get her very own library card. But now as then, there never existed a sense of ease or belonging for her. Even so, the familiarity of the Casey’s General Store on the corner, the Runzas on menus across state rest stops, the flurries of snow reddening her nose and chilling her bones, fostered a small flame of hope deep inside. She could still recognize, even find comfort in, a place she so detested. After the passage of so many years, this place was still the same and, underneath the new high rises and parking meters and sushi restaurants, she could see the bones of this city. Maybe the same could hold true for other things in her life.

Looking over the map in the lobby, she cupped her hands before her mouth and blew into them. The chill rested deep inside her, the hope she fostered in her heart doing little to warm her weary bones. All her work was to lead to this: trudging up the tiled stairs in damp snow boots surrounded by people who knew nothing about pain, not really. Not pain like hers.

She smelled it before she saw it, curving with the second floor walkway past storefront after storefront of clothes and books and knick knacks. She had just side-stepped the man trying to give free lotion samples when the warmth of cinnamon and sugar wafted over her. Her footsteps stuttered and her gait slowed. It was like watching a car whose engine was stalling out. She was light-headed, unable to string a thought together, parse out what she was feeling in her body besides a deep urge to run. Her therapist would tell her that she wanted to run because of her fear of being vulnerable and then being left behind. Again. Kim pushed hair that had fallen loose of her ponytail behind her ear, took three deep breaths, and followed her nose.

A small line stood in front of the cash register, three or four people, waiting for a treat to get them through their holiday shopping. She contemplated her next step from across the food court. Anticipation fluttered through her, givinggave rise to goosebumps beneath her layers of knit and down. Then further, deeper, beneath the adrenaline, lived something twisting and gnawing inside of her chest. She knew this thing like she knew the location of every security camera at the Hinky Dinky or the route she took home after school when her mom got too lost in the liquor aisle to remember to pick her up. This thing she knew was fear—fear of hope, of the inevitable ache of a further bruised heart. She crossed the food court despite it.

Trying to slip back into her midwestern skin, move through this world unassuming and deferential, she stood to the right of the registers, observing the ebb and flow of workers behind the glass. Dough was being kneaded by one, another opened an oven to check the progress of the bake. A third manned the register. A second till was sat unused, cash drawer open and empty. She stood there, just outside the current of customers, twitching her chapped fingers, tapping them against the inside of her own palm. He used to tease her for it. Five minutes passed, then ten. The line grew longer. Her flame of hope was waning.

Then, a voice—a bellow, more like—broke through the low hum of conversation in the food court.

“Coming! I’m coming, Miranda!” Kim froze.

A man in an apron and mustache came through the door marked “Employees Only” and made his way to the front of the store, a full cash drawer in his hands.

“Sorry! For some reason the safe just wouldn’t open.”

Kim was drifting through the crowd, pulled toward his voice. Her eyes began to burn.

“Here are some quarters for you. I figured you might be running low.” His eyes flicked up, scanning the crowd, estimating how many rolls they should throw into the oven. “I’ll open this one up and—,” his roaming gaze stopped. “And I, uh....”

She swallowed, her throat tight, eyes glassy. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He stood, slack jawed, staring.

“Um, Miranda I—Just, uh, just take this,” he handed the cash drawer to the teenager standing next to him, eyes never leaving Kim’s. “I’ll be right back.”

His shoes squeaked as he made his way around the counter and out into the seating area of the restaurant. Kim hadn’t moved, stunned like a deer in headlights on a Nebraska back road. He seemed as though he was moving in slow motion, each step towards her an eternity, and yet it was still not long enough to prepare herself for him to be standing directly in front of her. She felt like she’d just fallen through the ice into a glacial lake. No, she hadn’t fallen. She’d jumped. On purpose. And broke through.

He stood there, inches from her; she could see the gray in his mustache. He paused, just for a moment, then said, “Follow me.”

And she did.

They weaved in and out of tables and shoppers and janitors picking up fast food wrappers off the floor. He glanced back at her once, as if he was scared she wouldn’t be there behind him, as if she hadn’t been following him, chasing him, for what felt like her whole life. He led them down a hallway, empty save for a woman waiting on a bench between two bathroom doors, one labeled with a dress, the other a tie. Kim gave her a close-mouthed smile.

Jimmy stopped abruptly, reaching for the door to the family restroom. He held it open, looked into her eyes. Kim gave the woman another glance, cheeks reddening, and walked through the door before she could think or feel or do anything that would make her stop herself. She moved towards the far, tiled wall and as she turned, heard the clicking of the door’s latch, then the lock.

He paused then, there, gripping the door handle, his head resting against its grain. His body was tense, coiled and bound and, she realized, foreign to her. Stooped shoulders, billowing polo, slight waist cinched by an apron. Even from behind, he looked bleary, posture like a drooping flower on the sill. What happened to him?

Kim was grateful for this pause he was granting her. Everything seemed to be moving at a pace she was incapable of matching, an emotional marathon she had not trained for; she never did have much emotional stamina outside of simply holding them all in, like a child holding their breath in the deep end of the pool.

Then, he turned.

He was just as unfamiliar from the front as he was from behind, cheeks a bit sallow and stippled with five o’clock shadow, wiry glasses. His nametag read “Gene.” But Jimmy McGill was still the same in his bones and in the time it takes to exhale that breath you’ve been holding under the gentle waves of your childhood pool, the split second it takes for that breath to form a spray of bubbles racing you to the surface, they were in each other’s arms.

Centered on the yellowing, speckled tile, they grasped at shoulders and elbows, knees knocked, tears fell. Finally, Kim slipped her arms around his ribs and clutched him to her chest, nails digging into cotton and, beneath, soft skin. His face caught between shoulder and neck, he inhaled the scent of her, goosebumps rising as her puffy, down sleeves brushed against his bare arms. His hands roamed her back, skidding and sliding across slick fabric. It felt as if his hands had been frozen and he had finally found the fire he’s sought to warm them. Sneaking his right hand up and up and under the thick wool of her scarf, he hesitated just a moment before placing his fingertips to the soft skin of her neck. She gasped, a sob drawn out on a breath. His left hand pushed into the small of her back. She pulled him in tighter.

They held each other there, flushed and desperate and weepy, for a time—how long, neither could say. As the hand rubbing her back would slow, she would squeeze his middle gently as if to say Not yet and he would answer with gentle pressure between her shoulder blades. When her grip on him would loosen, his fingers would drift into the hairs at the base of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, and she would let him. This is how they stayed, questioning and answering each other as only they could with little more than a sigh passing through their lips.

Then, Kim began to pull gently away. He stiffened the moment he sensed her movement from him, but she did not try to leave his embrace, this wasn’t her intention, not truly. She only wanted to see his dear face, maybe say hello. Placing one hand on his chest, she leaned ever so slightly back as his arms moved to circle her waist. Tears clung to his lashes and dripped from the tip of his nose. He swallowed hard as her eyes roamed his face, different but somehow entirely the same. She felt like she was back in the HHM parking garage bumming a smoke from the new guy in the mailroom. Hundreds of days and miles from then, he was still hers.

Bringing both hands up, cupping his jaw, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of her thumbs, she smiled. “Jimmy.”

At this, his eyes closed, Kim holding him tenderly in her palms. He hasn’t heard that name in years. When was the last time he thought of himself as anyone other than Saul Goodman? Saul the criminal defense attorney. Saul on the run. Saul posing as a Cinnabon manager. More tears fell free.

Removing his hands from her waist, he held her delicate wrists, one in each hand, his thumbs mimicking her caress across his skin. She gave the slightest tilt of her head and he answered with a reed-thin voice, a sad smile, “It’s you.”

She knitted her perfectly arched brows, that tell-tale wrinkle emerging between them, her eyes soft and wet, red-rimmed. She bit her lip and began to shake her head, never removing her gaze from his. After a moment, she smiled again, smaller this time, lips closed, and slipped one hand smoothly into his, the other onto his shoulder, not willing to break contact.

“Sorry it took me so long.”

More tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes as he rolled them to the ceiling, heart aching.

“Kim…I…”

“I know.” A pause. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Baby, I know.”

From shoulder back to his neck, Kim guided Jimmy with her hand, resting his forehead against her own, meeting in the middle, holding him there.

“Oh god—” a sob broke from deep in his chest.

Kim stroked his neck, shoulder, face, back. Jimmy wept.

Tears darkened the collar of his polo shirt and the tremors running through his body prompted Kim to wrap herself around him once more, burying her nose in his neck, focusing on the sickly-sweet scent of yeasted dough rising, cinnamon, and icing sugar over the pain so fierce living in the main between her arms.

As all things do with time, his sobs became weaker and fewer, until his breathing returned to a shallow, exhausted inhale, sniffly exhale. Kim lifted him from her shoulder and he raised his eyes towards hers. Her lips twitched, and then she brought them to his cheek. One, then the other, over and over, like salve to a wound she covered his drying tear tracks with her lips. Gentle and soft, like the flap of a butterfly’s wings did she kiss him. And then, she centered herself, hand threading into his hair, she moved to his lips.

“Kim,” he whispered, a breath from her lips.

“Yes?”

“What if you’ve come all this way to find someone who…doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”

Again, Kim knit her brows and shook her head. She placed her right hand over his heart, lifted her shoulders gently in a shrug.

“It’s you.”

#better call saul #bcs #mcwexler #my fic

80 notes · View notes

pollyrepents · 3 years

Text

where his tenderness resides | thomas shelby

Summary: To others it would seem Tommy’s love comes in the lavish gifts he gives, but the jewelry and clothing and horses mean nothing when you know he takes the care to feel his love.

Warnings: Nothing major. Reference to John’s fate, so a little bit of hurt. Or a lot a bit of hurt, that’s all dependent on you, really.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’m absolutely obsessed with the idea of Tommy’s romantic love language being touch and that he only really indulges in it when he knows they won’t been seen. It haunts me, truly. I have a whole tag dedicated to it on my blog. This got kind of sad without meaning to, but that’s just how I write. Enjoy!

He was always careful when he paid attention to you in front of others.

A polite hand on your lower back, guiding you away from unpleasant conversation or steering you into a needed one with potential donors or the wives of lucrative business partners, wanting small talk to take the place of touchy conversations and new business ventures you could strangle him for ruining your evening with.

His attention was gentle and calloused at the same time, with his hands rubbing up and down your arm in a weak attempt at soothing as soon as you dragged him to a dark corridor for questioning.

“What happened to minimal business tonight?” You rose the glass in your gloved hand to sip your champagne, raising an eyebrow as he opened his mouth to speak, “You’ve snuck off twice and now I’m hearing from Polly there’s powerful people here?”

“Yes, there’s powerful people here for the charity-” His attempt to clarify made you click your tongue.

“There’s blinder business, Thomas.” You pursed your lips and he nodded once, unable to deny anything under your scrutinizing gaze. He focused himself on something outside, trying to pull enough words together to excuse himself from your discussion. “Why is there blinder business here, Tommy? At our charity event for ailing orphans?” You straightened up, eyes unwavering as you tried to meet his.

Tommy turned back to you and his icy blue eyes met yours. “They’re making sure you’re safe, is all.” He lifted a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin with a reserved gentleness despite the roughness of his skin. The tone was nothing other than truthful, steady as ever while he spoke. “I can’t have anything happen to you. Extra security for my peace of mind.”

“Or the dress.” You quipped, proving your point by turning your hips slightly to make the fabric swish. “I spent a long time picking this out as I wanted it to pair perfectly with the apology earrings you left me on the dresser.”

His eyes rolled up to the ceiling briefly at the mention of the new pearls, and you didn’t doubt he was pushing his tongue against his teeth as he gathered his words. “Alright. Not a mark on either of you. You or the fucking dress you picked out just for me, Y/N. ”

“I didn’t pick out anything for you.” You pecked his lips briefly, smiling softly as he moved in for another, whispering between the two of you, “The dress is mine.”

“And what’s under the dress is mine, ay.” He had that tone to him, treading the line of authoritative only you got to hear behind closed doors, the kind that came with pushing his buttons. You felt a smile pass your lips before schooling your features, an imitation of the man who undoubtedly knew you best. You pushed a stray curl behind your ear as you looked him over.

“As long as you keep your minimal business to a minimum,” You tutted and straightened his bowtie, the careful knot your own doing while Tommy had made his initial promise in the sanctuary of your bedroom during the early evening hours. “what’s under the dress if yours.”

His hand was on your lower back again and you relaxed into the touch, a warm smile coming to your face as you examined his. The cold, determined Tommy melted away for a split second, the changes you had learned to savor coming forth easy to spot in the dark of the cold hall. The corner of his eyes pinched slightly, the corner of his lips turning upward for a brief moment. He tilted his chin down, pressing his lips to yours softly.

“Now,” You cleared your throat, gently pushing his hand off of your lower back in exchange for his arm. “Back to minimal business, Tommy.”

There were mornings when his lips never left your skin for more than a few moments, the both of you needing tangible assurance of someone’s love. Yours usually came in the middle of the night when you would tuck yourself against his twitching body, his limbs settling as he felt the pressure of you against his side, the smell of your soap and hair oils pushing through the clay and muck of the reimagined tunnels. Where the mumbling and quiet gasping would ease as you rubbed his chest and whispered to him that he was home, that he was safe, that he was with you in your bed.

His came in the mornings, seeing through the teasing to assure you that although he was off to a dealing business meeting or political business in London or factory business in the shit and smog of Small Heath in a moment, he would not stray for too long. His mornings were always early, always that sweet spot in time when you were too drowsy to put up a believable act in front of Tommy and would grumble an answer to any question he had without thinking twice as long as he stopped talking soon enough.

“Is there anything else, Mister Shelby?” The voice recognized as Frances’ was distant, the old woman’s voice more delicate than usual.

“That’ll be it, Frances, thank you.” His low voice came next and made you stir slightly, taking a deep breath and turning over to bury your face in his warmth that lingered on the blankets, begging for sleep to whisk you away again.

The door shut and a moment later the mattress dipped behind you, the smell of burning tobacco and aftershave enveloped your nearly sleeping form. Soft lips pressed against the back of your neck and you tried to remain still, breathing evenly as his lips trailed across your shoulder.

“You’re awake.” The words rumbled against your skin, soft lips moving against your neck as he kissed where he had marked in the earliest morning hours.

“Mm-mm.” You hummed, pressing your face into the pillow. “Not yet.”

“Frances has brought you breakfast.”

“You made that woman get up before the sun rose?” You mumbled into the pillow, furrowing your eyebrows despite your act.

“That is what I pay her for.” Tommy reminded. “The sun is up, dearest. Open your eyes, see it for yourself.”

“Come back to bed, Thomas.” You verged on a whine, reaching a hand back to try and run your fingers through his hair. Your nose wrinkled at the lack of contact on your part as he slipped away. “It’s Sunday. Let Linda and Arthur go to church then handle the business. Just take a day, we can even take Charlie out for a picnic.”

Skillfully and typically he ignored your request for his leisure time. “I’m Thomas now?” His fingers trailed down the curve of your back and you all but arched into his touch like a spoiled cat.

“You were Thomas last night.” You reminded as you rolled over to face him and stretched out on the mattress. His fingers trailed up and down your side lightly and you flinched away from the ticklish touch, grabbing his wrist in your hand. “Watch it, Thomas.”

The corners of his lips twitched upward and something resembling mischief sparked in his eye and you narrowed your own at him, challenging, “Do you think they’d miss you?”

“I think you would.” He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss between your eyebrows. “How would you explain yourself then, ay?”

“Thomas Shelby was taken care of,” He snorted at your wording as he crossed the room but you persisted anyway. “Thomas Shelby was handled after pushing his lover to the limit so early in the morning after waking her up so rudely.”

He moved to where he had Frances place the tray of food and lifted it, nodding for you to shift yourself among the sheets. You propped yourself up, holding a hand out to stop him as he reached your bedside. Tommy quirked an eyebrow.

“Only if you’re planning on staying.” You raised your eyebrows to mirror him. “If not, I’ll eat at the window. On my own.”

Tommy looked at you momentarily, the smoke from his cigarette swirling upward and around him as he examined you for any sign of relenting. He sighed and nodded, placing the tray over your legs and trying not to show any amusement at your triumphant smile as he came to the empty side of the bed.

“Your meetings can wait for a bit, Tommy-don’t get into bed with the suit.” You cautioned. “It’ll wrinkle.”

He sighed, patience steady as he listened to you. “Am I expected to feed you the toast as well?” He unbuckled his belt and slipped his gray suit pants off, folding them and placing them on the end of the bed. “Is that what you need me here for?” He slid out of his waist coat, placing it atop his matching pants. His fingers made quick work of the tiny white buttons on his shirt, lying it over his other clothes.

“Well, if you’re offering, how could I say no.” You laughed lightly, bringing your legs up under you as he laid out next to you, leaning back against the headboard. You took a bite of buttered toast, holding the slice to Tommy’s lips as you chewed. His unamused look made you giggle and you pulled the cigarette from between his lips and moved the toast slightly closer still, prompting him to take a small bite.

“Good boy.” You patted his face lightly and ignored the scoff, leaning in to kiss him around the crumbs. “Can I expect you back before midnight?”

He nodded once, pulling another drag from the cigarette and blowing it upwards toward your painted ceiling. “I’ll try for a reasonable hour.” He muttered to himself, lifting his fingers to try to tuck away the fabric where your scarf had slipped from its knot during the night. “No idea how you keep this fucking thing on all the time.”

“Enough magic to give me a headache.” You batted at his fingers, unraveling the knot and letting your curls loose. You massaged your scalp, shaking out the tightened coils. “I’m sure I’m a real vision right now. Looking like I’ve been shocked by a wool touch or something.”

Tommy puffed smoke out through his nose, a hand reaching up to tug at the curls on the nape of your neck. Your shoulders relaxed at his touch “Not a bad sight so early in the morning.”

“If you’re softening me up with the affection and compliments so you can leave, it’s not going to work.”

His hand fell to the spot where your shoulder met your neck and he pulled you down slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple, mumbling something along the lines of you being insatiable and a menace, but his nonetheless.

It was rare he let you hold him first.

He was mourning.

Different than Arthur, who was weeping aloud and different than Polly who rolled the rosary beads between her fingers more often those days. It was a different mourning, when his persistent mind stopped for a moment and his thoughts droned into white noise and the realization that John was gone-permanently gone, at the fault of his own greed and impulse washed over him the way the panic in the tunnels would. You found him hunched over on his bed in their Watery Lane home, shaking breaths making the hunch of his back rise and fall unsteadily. In the candlelight beside him you could make out his hands-your favorite hands- hands trembling as they gripped at his hair.

“Tommy,” You spoke up carefully, staring at him from the doorway. You reached behind you, closing the door in an attempt to shield him from a passerby’s view. “Tommy, you’ll hurt yourself.” You took slow and measured steps toward him, fearful of creaky floorboards that would alert the other nearby Shelbys, or knocking anything to the ground that would set him off. His trembling form made a knot in your throat tighten and you reached out your hand, startling when Tommy sprung up. Automatically, his hand reached under his pillow and his wet eyes found yours, his normally calm eyes flashing with something wild before he reconnected himself to the present moment.

“It’s just me, Tommy.” Your hand that had flown up to stop him arming himself dropped, cupping his stubbly chin. Your thumb caressed his jaw, trying to push away the tension for a moment. “Couldn’t find you after dinner, I got scared.”

He nodded, pulling away from your touch. He cleared his throat. “So many places to check in the house.”

“I thought you’d be out smoking or at the Garrison.” Your fingers sought out his hair where he had been pulling at it, rubbing your fingertips in soothing circles on his scalp. “Taking your mind off of things.”

“I can’t be drunk if we’re being hunted, Y/N.” His tone was dismissive and reached for his cigarettes and lighter on the bedside table.

“Everyone in the house is armed.” Your hands reached out to touch him again, blocked as he rolled his cigarette between his slightly swollen and raw lips. You assumed he had been biting them, one of his tells that things had bubbled up while he was alone. “We’ve all got guns under our pillows and in our pockets. Even Linda’s got one on her.”

“Fear convinces people better than simple words can.” He rested his elbow on his knee, hunching over. He smoked for a moment, long drags and lingering clouds of smoke swirled around the two of you. You stepped in front of him and reached down to take the cigarette, watching him closely as his fingers went limp. You placed it between your own lips, both hands coming up to cup the back of his head. You listened to his breathing, waiting until the stuttering breaths became fewer and farther between.

“He was your brother.” You traced your finger upward over the shell of his ear, lightly tracing the outline of his forehead. “He was a Shelby.”

“Yeah.” Tommy spoke into your nightdress, his eyes shutting as your finger came to brush against his lashes. “Yeah, I know he was.”

“So you know you can mourn him.”

The next breath was shaky and Tommy’s hands began to tremble again. You took your final drag and snubbed out the cigarette, letting it smoulder in his aged ashtray.

He pressed his face into your stomach, hands pressing into your lower back as he sought refuge in your being. You tilted your head to the side, taking in his closed eyes and clenched jaw before he turned his head away from the flickering candle light.

“Mourn him, Thomas.” You whispered downwards at his hair, a hand coming up to rub his cheek. Your fingers met wetness just under his eyes and you ignored it, stroking his cheek with your thumb as Tommy held onto you for dear life. “It’s alright.”

His hand began to move against the material of your nightclothes, palms pressing more firmly than before. You settled yourself across his lap, one knee on either side of him on the edge of the bed. You gripped at his shirt, still smelling of the day’s whiskey he had taken and cigarettes he had found a way to take more of recently. His face tucked into your neck and you wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting his forearms squeeze you close around your lower back. He took breath after shaking breath against you, his fingers holding the fabric of your clothes in an iron grip.

You held him, pressing your face into his hair as he held you as close as possible, hiding above the blankets in the flickering candle light.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #angst #fluff #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #whatever fcuk it I have nothing left rn lmfao #written by me

277 notes · View notes

marvelfansince08love · 3 years

Text

Hey Neighbour! - Part 3

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader

Warning: just a bit fluffy x

A/N: Here’s part 3 - I hope you enjoy, loves x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @pearplate @r0an0ke @minavenable @coconutlipss @creepingwolfberry @saucy-sapphic @venablemayfairgoode @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @nyx-aira @witchxaf @supremeinlilac @black--widxw @fireflyglass @cordeliafoxxe @d14n4ol

Part One, Part Two

Not my gif!

Hey Neighbour! - Part 3

The school gate is full of parents and guardians anticipating the ear-screeching sound of the school bell. You stand fidgeting slightly as the slight breeze picks up crossing your arms against your chest, actively wrapping the long coat around your body for warmth. A handful of children burst through the double doors of the building heading straight over into your general direction. Your eyes scan frantically for your sweet girl, relaxing a little once you eye her signature beanie. Her innocent eyes clash with your own, a bright smile appearing on her lips as she races towards you.

“Mommy!” she screeches without a care in the world, her arms stretch out wide as she collides into your stomach making you grunt at the impact. Wrapping your arms tightly around her small frame you allow your nose to rest on top of her covered hair, basking in her presence for a moment.

“I’ve missed you today, sweet pea. How was it? Did you make any new friends?” you ask excitedly, bursting at the seams. Amelia matches your enthusiasm as she lists her new classmates and her wonderful teacher, she gasps suddenly as if remembering the most important piece of information.

“And the best part of it all is that Oz is in my new class!” she exclaims, stopping in her tracks to allow you to remove her backpack so you can carry it for her. You gasp excitedly at her words genuinely happy that her already new found friend is in her class putting some of your worries a side. You’re still rather apprehensive about the new move from within the city but you know deep down this a good fresh start for you both. Before you can continue to walk back to the car, a loud voice calls out Amelia’s name making you both turn at the sound. Oz rushes forward making his way over to you both, a woman you don’t recognize racing after him to catch up.

‘This must be the babysitter,’ You think, remembering your conversation with Ally over the weekend when she invited you into her home. Ally had a big senate dinner in the city and couldn’t get out of it, you debated offering to babysit Oz while she was stuck at work but realised you were still a complete stranger to her despite only living next door and seeing how well set up her home is regarding security you knew Ally was hesitant when it came to trusting people.

Oz stands next to Amelia as he tries to catch his breath, he waves tiredly at you before adjusting his glasses, his babysitter not far behind.

“Hi, Miss.Y/N.” He greets, still slightly breathless. You grin fondly at the sweet blonde boy, holding your hand out for him to high-five which he reciprocates happily.

“Hey Oz! How was your first day back at school?” you ask, knowing that Ally had her worries about him despite her attempts to hide it. He smiles shyly and shrugs indifferently.

“It was okay, I guess. Still the same kids and teacher except for Amelia, we’re in the same class this year!” he informs you, making you chuckle at their excitement to be able to spend more time together. You’re secretly grateful that they have become such fast friends.

“That’s amazing buddy!” you comment, just as his babysitter places a hand on his shoulder. Her flustered state did not go unnoticed.

“Oz! You gotta wait for me okay? You can’t be scaring me like that.” she scolds softly, fear evident in her tone. Oz nods guiltily before whispering to Amelia who giggles nodding at whatever he told her. You narrow your eyes at the mischievous pair before glancing at the woman who puts her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m so sorry about that, I’m Lily. I babysit Oz when Ally can’t get away from work,” she explains, grinning sheepishly. You take her hand and shake once before awkwardly letting go.

“Hi, I’m Y/N and this is Amelia. We’re Ally and Oz’s new next door neighbours,” you inform her, watching as something clicks within her eyes.

“Of course! Ally mentioned new neighbours, well it was lovely to meet you both but we gotta run and get home,” she murmurs, as Oz groans in protest.

“Can’t I hang out with Amelia, Lily please?!” Oz begs, jittering his bottom lip, his big brown eyes wide as you watch her struggle under his adorable gaze. You crouch down to be eye-level with him as his attention draws to you.

“Oz, Lily here probably wants to prepare dinner for you and get you sorted before your mom comes home, yeah?” you justify, watching as he frowns at your words. Knowing you’ll have a battle on your hand you try a different tactic. Leaning forward you take a big whiff in scrunching your nose for extra effect and sniff near him again, he giggles at your silliness.

“Y/n why are you sniffing me?!” he asks through giggles as Amelia begins to sniff him as well laughing in the process.

“I think we have one stinky boy on our hands, what do you think Amelia, Lily?” you address the two females watching as Lily picks up on your efforts, nodding along with you.

“We don’t like stinky boys, mommy,” Amelia comments, scrunching her nose. Oz gasps and protests through more giggles as your fingers meet his ribcage.

“Noooo, stoo- stop! I promise I’ll bathe!” he says through giggles. You lax from your tickle attack and stand winking subtly at Lily who looks at you gratefully.

“How about you go home with Lily and then once I’ve spoken to your mom, you can come over to our house during the week for dinner?” you compromise, watching on in amusement as the clogs turn inside his youthful mind. He looks you in the eyes and nods, putting his hand out for you to shake to seal the deal.

You pretend to spit into your hand before going to take his small one, watching as he pulls a face full of disgust at your gesture but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

“Deal,” he says, finalising your little exchange. You nod and grab hold of Amelia’s hand who smiles brightly, her cheeks red from the laughter.

“Bye bye Ozzy, see you tomorrow at school!” she waves her free hand at him. You say your goodbyes to the blonde boy and his poor babysitter, already discovering that behind that shy exterior there is one adorably cheeky little boy.

“Come on you, let’s get you home.” you murmur to your daughter, feeling your arm swing at your side as she skips happily next to you.

***

The house is quiet with only the low muffled sounds of the news presenter that echoes from your TV screen in the living room, you sip from your favourite alcoholic beverage as you lazily watch the bright screen while dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and an old big Fleetwood Mac shirt. You were almost ready to call it a night when the sound of keys jingling in the keyhole from outside startles you from your daydreaming, the sudden sound causes you to spill reminisce of the drink onto your pants making you groan before you tense realising that the only other people with a key is your brother and father; who are both back in the city. Wearily walking over to the door you grab hold of the big umbrella by the front door, peeking through the peephole. A faint blurred figure stands next to the door on the other side, the familiar brown short hair and stature makes you relax almost instantly as you place the umbrella down and unlock the door. Ally sways slightly on her feet at the sudden sound and movements of the door opening, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she eyes you dressed in a black pantsuit which shows off her curves beautifully.

“Not that I’m mad about this but why are you in my house?” she asks, her voice slurring slightly in her drunken state making you bite your lip to hold back a smile. Her big brown glossy eyes take in your attire before scanning the hallway past your shoulder, you step closer to her noticing her off balance to help guide her into the warmth of your home. As soon as your hand touches her arm she leans in closer to you, shivering from the night's cold air.

“I believe you, it is you who is trespassing onto my property, Senator.” you tease, a soft grin appearing onto your lips as you gently guide her into the living room sitting her onto the sofa and taking a seat next to her. Her eyes squint as she takes in the bare living room trying to piece the room together in her head, her red lips forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes land onto your amusing form.

“Oh,” she whispers, before you nod to her silent conclusion. You laugh at her apologetic face which makes her giggle too. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I may have had a little more wine than I originally thought,” she tries to explain through slurred words as she sinks heavily into the sofa, closing her eyes briefly as she places a hand over her them. You pat her knee in comfort still rather amused that someone who is usually so well put together can be such a sloppy drunk.

“Would you like a drink of water, Ally?” you whisper, hoping that the disruption downstairs hasn’t disturbed a sleeping Amelia. She spreads her fingers apart and peeks through the gap nodding, a small pout forming onto her full lips making you linger on the enticing soft red a moment longer before quickly diverting your eyes away and standing muttering “I’ll be just a minute”.

You let out the breath you're holding and fill the glass up with cold water, taking a few minutes to gather your thoughts. You’ve noticed the small sparks between you both ever since you laid eyes on her through her kitchen window, her eyes always lingering on your lips that little bit longer whenever you spoke when you went to introduce yourself. Rubbing at your temple gently you argue with yourself knowing that the whole reason you moved here was to have a fresh start, just you and Amelia. After your ex-fiance left right after giving birth to Amelia you decided right there and then that you don’t need anyone and even if you did try you would only be blindsided and hurt again. Ally is like a bright burning flame and the more you see her the more that light intrigues you to step forward and become close to it.

‘But at some point that bright light goes off and you are left to feel nothing’ you conclude, shaking your head at your conflicting thoughts before stepping away from the sink and heading back to the living room. You stop in your tracks by the staircase, your eyes widen at the familiar young voice from behind you.

“Why is Miss. Ally in our house, mommy?!” Amelia’s tired voice asks, you turn around and hold your hand out for her to take as she descends from the last few steps. You glance briefly over to Ally who sits on the sofa still, leaning her forearms against the top of the sofa she grins at Amelia.

“How do you know you’re not in my house?” she questions, a teasing glint in her eyes as Amelia’s eyes widen for a second innocently believing any word from an adults mouth. Her gaze turns to me for confirmation making you quickly shake your head, scolding playfully over to Ally who shrugs innocently.

“I see the wine has flown from your head to your mouth,” you grumble playfully, watching as she scrunches her nose apologetically. Amelia glances at you confused before turning her gaze back to Ally.

“Are you having a sleepover with my mom?” her innocent eyes stare openly at Ally, who’s lips twitch at your daughter's words, her eyes lingering on your form for a moment, making you squirm slightly under her dark gaze.

“Well wouldn’t that be fun, huh Melia! Unfortunately silly me got confused and thought this was my house!” she explains to her gently, her words more clearer now that she’s aware of her current state as well as Amelia’s presence and being a mother herself she knows when to switch back into the role despite the alcohol that swarms around in her head. Ally squints in discomfort as she lightly grazes her temple with her fingertips making you move forward quickly handing her the glass of water, she quietly thanks you and takes a delicate sip sighing in relief at the cold texture. Amelia moves forward and sits next to Ally on the sofa, swinging her legs as they hover above the rug.

“You gotta headache, Miss. Ally? Mom always tells me to drink lots of water when I get a headache,” she informs, smiling pleased to have informed Ally of something so important. Ally places the glass down on the table and cups Amelia’s cheek, stroking her thumb across her full cheek, smiling adoringly at her. You stand still by the doorway, a sense of warmness spreading across your chest as you watch them interact. Usually you would be wary of new friends touching Amelia so freely but Ally has such a natural instinct to comfort and show simple displays of affection, especially to Oz it almost feels safe to have interacted with Amelia in this way.

“I’m okay, sweet girl. I was a bit silly at dinner tonight and the wine has made me a little loopy,” she explains to her, smiling wide as Amelia giggles into her hands.

“Wine is yucky! Mommy says it’s only for adults and it tastes funny,” You nod agreeing with before moving forward and crouching down next to her.

“That’s right munchkin. Now why don’t you quickly grab your coat and boots so we can walk Ally to her door,” you suggest, watching her once sleepy eyes widen in excitement at the prospect of a late night adventure on a school night even if it’s to walk across the yard.

“Oh Y/N you really don’t-” you stop her protests with a flick of your hand.

“It’s fine Ally, I’d feel better if I got you home safe,” you insist, standing to grab your shoes to stop any further protests from the brunette.

Once you are both ready, you open your front door to allow her and Amelia to step outside. Amelia skips ahead a short feet away leaving you side to side with the brunette beauty, her shoulder brushing lightly against your own making you shiver at the innocent brushing. Ally looks over to you in concern.

“Are you cold? Honestly, you and Amelia go back in I’m about ten steps away from my doorstep,” she chuckles but you can see in her eyes under the bright glow of the streetlights that she’s grateful for the company, still a little unsteady on her feet. As you reach the porch steps you instinctively place a hand onto her back to steady her balance as she ascends, you feel the small tension in her back from the cold slowly relax under your touch, glancing briefly at her face you notice a small smile gracing her lips softly. As you reach the top Amelia is already waiting for you both rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Is Ozzy awake? Can we play hide and seek?” she asks excitedly, as she yawns straight after. You share an amusing look with your neighbour, knowing all too well the persistence of a tired child.

“No sweetheart, he’s in bed or he should be. I’m going to check now to make sure before I go to bed myself,” Ally murmurs quietly, bending down to brush some of Amelia’s escaped strands of hair from under her trusted beanie. Amelia pouts and you groan to yourself knowing what's coming.

“Okay Amelia Cakes, we’ll see Ozzy tomorrow but you gotta go back to bed once we get in ready to hang out with him tomorrow in school,” you justify, raising an eyebrow at her grumpy expression which falters under your stern but kind gaze. Her shoulders slump as she realises her defeat.

“Okay, Mommy.” she grumbles tiredly moving closer over to you and cuddling into your side. Ally watches on in light amusement staying quiet while you speak to your daughter. Looking up at her you notice the tiredness forming around her eyes too, deciding to call it night you wait until Ally unlocks her door before giving her a shy smile and wave.

“Night Neighbour,” you murmur, a small glint of amusement in your eyes as she matches your expression.

“Good night, dancing queens. Thank you for walking me home,” she whispers, leaning against her door frame a soft smile playing on her lips. You nod once before turning your gaze onto Amelia as you feel your coat tuck downwards on your body. With big pleading eyes you sigh fondly knowing exactly what she wants, crouching you turn away from her and grunt as the new found weight lands onto your back, little legs wrapping around your hips and arms circling around your neck. You stand and smile once more at Ally who watches on fondly before nodding towards your house, she nods in understanding and places a hand on Amelia’s back.

“Sweet dreams Amelia,”

“Nighty night, Miss. Ally.” her tired grumbles come from your back as she flaps her fingers in some sort of wave making you both laugh.

Stepping down the steps carefully you steadily make your way over to your drive, turning back slightly as you see Ally peep over and wave one finally before stepping into the house. Keeping Amelia on your back you make your way through the house and into her bedroom, placing her gently onto the bed with the smallest of bounce making her giggle tiredly. Pulling off her boots and coat you wait for her to crawl under the duvet, beanie still in place. Once settled you take the beanie off and leave it by her bedside, brushing her hair from her face watching her eyelashes flutter as she struggles to stay awake.

‘Hide and seek huh? Maybe next time kid’ you smile to yourself. Placing a gentle kiss to her forehead you turn her lamp off and switch on her starlight's before leaving the door ajar.

Making your way downstairs, you go to grab Ally’s empty glass and take it through into the kitchen. Standing by the sink you rinse the glass out and place it onto the drying rack, a light from across the way makes you glance over curiously. To your surprise, standing by her own kitchen window drinking a glass of water is, Ally. As if sensing eyes on her, brown eyes find your form through the window making you tentatively raise a hand and wave in greeting. Ally places her index up to you indicating for you to wait there, she disappears from view for a moment before returning again her gaze falling to the floor for a few moments before locking onto you again an amusing grin in place.

“Are you sure this is my house?” the question written in bold for you to see from across the way. Clicking onto her game you turn to look for one of Amelia’s old notepads, grabbing a black marker from the draw.

“I can show you the lease if you like?” her mouth opens wide indicating her laughter before looking down again for a few moments.

“I’ll believe you for now…”

“Phew, I was worried for a second there” she grins at that, biting down onto her bottom lip as if debating her next move.

“So sleepovers huh?” her eyebrows raise in a teasing manner, wiggling the dark brows for extra effect making you chuckle.

“Sorry only cool kids allowed ;)” you shrug indifferently but the small grin that appears upon your lips shows you enjoy teasing her back.

“That’s a shame, I’m rather inclined to the idea of an adult sleepover” her wicked grin shows her victory over this silent flirting game as you flush and gap at her for a second unable to follow up. Not wanting her to have the last word you confidently write out your next sign.

“I’m more of a wine and dine first kinda gal, I’m afraid” you say but gulp once you realise the opening you’ve given her.

“Is that you agreeing to a date that I haven’t even asked you out on yet?” her teasing message makes you groan as you feel your cheeks warm at the question. Placing both hands over your eyes, you miss the fond expression that makes its way onto Ally’s face as she waits patiently for you to look at her again. Peeking through you notice she’s placed a new sign upon the window with a wide smile grazing her lips.

“8 o’clock Friday? x” are the only words written as she waits for your reply. Biting your lip you contemplate her offer, wanting to push down the negative thoughts that begin to surface. The feeling of nervousness spreads low in your stomach as you think about the last time you even went on a date knowing how well that turned out, looking back over to her face you notice the slight falter in her expression as you take your time to reply. Before you can contemplate further, your hand begins to trace the words that seal the deal.

“Can’t wait x”

#ally mayfair richards x reader #ally mayfair richards #ally x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #ahs cult #Hey Neighbour! series #american horror story

203 notes · View notes

bffsoobin · 3 years

Text

princeps caeli

➤ air prince!hueningkai x orphan!reader, royalty!au, historical!au, fluff, mild angst

↳ For as long as you could remember, you had been enamored with the sky and all the things it contained. When you find yourself leaving the home you grew up in, you rely more than ever on the comfort of the glimmering sky. Finding a home among the clouds you’d always admired seemed far from reality until you met Hueningkai.

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: reader is an orphan, so mentions of loss of parents/family, some self-doubt, brief mentions of homelessness and feeling alone

A/N: this is my contribution to the Five Princes collab with @soobmint @gyuluster @honeyju and @juunnies please be sure to keep an eye out for their contributions for the other members to be posted in the coming weeks! This was a super fun project and I’m so happy I got to be part of it! As always I have not proofread or edited this piece.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“It’s almost noon, miss Y/N,” a small, timid voice chimed from somewhere behind you. The grass underneath your body was beginning to poke at the back of your neck, sticking between the thick strands of your hair and making your scalp itch. You were sure that the back of your pale pink day dress was being stained with a subtle green, but you couldn’t quite find it in your soul to care. After all, this was an undeniably big day.

Just this morning, you had woken up to a special loaf of your favorite bread cooling on the counter in the kitchen along with a handwritten note from the head lady of the house, Beatrice. The note was simple, with scrawling letters congratulating you on your eighteenth birthday.

Since you were an infant, you’d lived in the 4th Street Orphanage, cared for by Beatrice and the few staff members she was able to sustain employment for. It was the only life you’d ever known, as you never knew your parents apart from a single photograph salvaged from the house you were born in. There had never been a time in your life where you longed for family, as the other children living alongside you had been more than enough company, and the staff were never harsh like you heard they were at other orphanages.

But today, the life you had come to know and love within the walls of the homey orphanage was coming to an end. Now that you were eighteen, it was time for you to leave the home and made space for younger children to enter the home. The thought of leaving made your stomach lurch, but you knew that it was for the best. Beatrice had helped you secure a new living arrangement in the next town over, and your train was set to leave just after noon- hence the warning of time from the little boy.

You allowed yourself an extra moment to study the swirling skies above you. Large, puffy clouds were covering almost every inch of the blue sky; dancing and forming into new shapes with every pass of warm wind. It was one of the simplest pleasures in your life, to watch the sky shift and shake above you. The garden you laid in now had been your haven for as long as you could remember. Often you would drag a pillow and blanket out to the field and spend an entire day reveling in the breeze and the chirps of passing creatures. On several occasions throughout your youth, a uniquely beautiful butterfly who boasted silvery-blue wings with strong black markings had visited you in. It was unlike any butterfly you’d seen in the region before, but you admired it wholly every time it came around to your home. You couldn’t help but hope that it would flutter into your path again today before you had to go.

“Is she out in the garden again?” You heard a familiar, bellowing voice call from the open windows of the orphanage. It was surely Beatrice, growing anxious as the clock ticked closer to noon. All of your things had been packed before you went outside, but there was still a lingering desire for closure before you departed. Reluctantly, you hauled yourself off of the plush grass and brushed at your knees before wandering back toward the house.

Inside, all of the other children you lived with were gathered in the living room, engaged in various activities, and you were grateful that only a few of their gazes shifted to you. You were grateful for that, as the few stares you did catch made you feel an odd sense of guilt for leaving. A blush crept out from the collar of your dress, thankfully disguised by the sweltering heat of the day as the few members of the staff gave you tearful smiles.

The grandfather clock on the wall played its tinny, high pitched song to announce the arrival of noon. Upon hearing the sound, a group of children rose from their spots and came to hug you in turn. The ones old enough to understand your departure breathed messages of thanks and farewell, while the younger children toddled over and hugged at your legs simply because they’d seen others do it. Sometime during the shuffle, Beatrice had gone up to your room to collect your single suitcase of belongings and was now standing solemnly next to the front door.

“Dear, it’s time to get going...” she spoke softly, extending an age-worn hand toward you. She offered you the worn leather suitcase and you accepted it quickly; hugging the case to your chest protectively as you gave one last goodbye to the rest of the home.

Your short walk to the train station was mostly silent. Beatrice had never been one for small talk, and you were experiencing so many warring emotions that you wouldn’t have even known what to say if you could manage to open your mouth.

“Listen to me,” she said just as the bustle of people around the train station came into view. “When you arrive in town, you go straight to the Pharmacy as I told you. The woman who owns it is very old but very kind. I’ve known her for many years, and she’s looking for a new young soul to work at the shop, and she has a spare bedroom in the apartment above the place that she’s willing to give to you. I got a letter from her just last week that she was anticipating your arrival.”

Suddenly overwhelmed with the new direction of your life, a few tears began to gather around your lashes but you blinked them away. Your head felt hazy, stuffed full of cotton as you took mindless steps toward the train station. Of course, Beatrice noticed your state right away and cooed comfortingly in the way only a mother could.

“We’ll be just a train ride away, dear. And I do so wish you could simply stay in the home, but you must go on and live your own life...” her words dissipated as she dug through the deep pockets sewn into her dress, obviously searching for something. Finally she produced a simple burlap pouch that clinked with the telltale sound of coins. Your eyes widened at the idea of her carrying so much money with her for such a short trip, and then you realized that it was for you.

“Oh no, I can’t-” the old woman pushed the bag into your hands anyway, leaving no room for your protests. The bag was heavy in your hand, and a feeling of anxiety at having so many coins sprouted in your chest.

“I save for every child to give them something on the day they leave. That money is all yours. I don’t expect a single coin back, so don’t even try.” Beatrice’s words were firm as she led you onto the train platform. More and more people were gathering around, making it clear that the scheduled time for the train must have been drawing closer.

“Thank you,” you finally mustered just before the incoming train sounded its horn and began to slow on the tracks. You held both the suitcase and the pouch of coins tight to your body as Beatrice pulled you into one more bone-crushing hug, her thin frame melding into you without care for the objects between you. She smoothed down the back of your hair with a gentle pat, and before you knew it you were being pushed into the train by waves of travelers.

----

The train ride to the next town over was rather quick, as you spent most of it worrying over locating the pharmacy and the old woman. As you left the train, still holding your suitcase and pouch of coins so close to your body that your arms had begun to ache, a warm breeze met you. Wind ghosted over your face, brushing at the curves of your face and pushing your hair away from the back of your neck. The push of the air against your skin calmed you enough to lead you away from the bodies pouring out of the train and toward your new home.

You faltered in your path once departing the train station, unsure which way to walk to come across the pharmacy. The thought of asking a passing citizen for help entered your mind and then quickly dissipated. If you were going to live here, you may as well begin to familiarize yourself with the layout now.

It was a sunny afternoon, bringing families out of their homes and shop owners onto their front sidewalks to tout their products and converse with passing customers. With the sun right above your head, the rays beating onto your scalp made you feel a bit dizzy, the air thick with humidity as it clung to your skin. A knot built in your stomach the more you wandered, eyeing up the town’s bank, biggest restaurant, a few small clothing shops, and a doctor’s office. The layout of the town was similar to your own, but the streets were bustling with well dressed families, and you suddenly felt insecure in your grass-stained hand me down dress. A particularly wealthy looking family brushed past you as you meandered closer to what you figured was the center of town. The older child sent you a snide look, eyes widening at the state of your tattered suitcase and dirty shoes.

A currently empty schoolhouse stood a few feet taller than the one in your hometown, a pair of children sitting on the concrete steps and tossing stones between their hands in some kind of game you didn’t recognize. They smiled as you passed, stopping their game just long enough to regard the stranger strolling through their town. Kiddy corner to the schoolhouse, you spotted the brick walled general store. Beams of sunlight broke over the ceiling of the building, blinding you momentarily as you approached it. With a hand over your eyes, you finally regained your vision at the same time you rounded the corner sidewalk of the store. Just to the left of you was a similarity built brick building, boasting painted block letters spelling “Pharmacy”. A surge of excitement sped through your body upon finding your destination. Hands shaking, you approached the ornate door and pulled, hearing the bell tinkle from above you.

The shop you entered was just as you had expected; tonic bottles and boxes of medication stacked onto oak shelves with handwritten price tags hanging below them. The red and white tiled floor below your feet was squeaky clean and shined underneath the bright lights hanging off the ceiling. As you approached the counter, you noticed that the building was seemingly empty.

“Hello?” You called, voice loud as a firework in the vacant building. There was a shuffling noise from somewhere behind the counter, then a groan, then the abrupt scrape of metal against tile. A small, quite frail looking woman bellied up to the counter. She wore tiny round spectacles that rested delicately on her dotted nose, and a flowery apron that tied loosely around her waist.

“What can I do for you?” She asked, hazarding you an odd glance as if she were trying to decipher if you were someone she knew and had simply forgotten. “Forgive me dear, but I don’t know your last name to retrieve your things...”

“Oh, that’s because I’m uh, from the 4th Street Orphanage. Beatrice told me that she had spoken to you about me?” Your fingers were slippery with sweat as you awaited her response. Her eyes lit up with recognition and then suddenly fell with a sigh.

“Oh yes, yes, I know of you, dear...it’s just, there’s an issue with the arrangement I had made with Beatrice. You see, my dear nephew has fallen into similar straights as you...no where to go, in need of a room...” A hot iron of anxiety drove straight through your chest at her words. You knew exactly where they were going.

“You see, family must come first, dear. And he’s already moved in.” One of her aged hands came up to adjust her glasses, the other laying across her chest apologetically as she gazed up at you.

“I see,” you nodded politely, holding back the anxious tears sprouting along your eyelashes. Where were you supposed to go now? You had no backup plan, and Beatrice surely hadn’t anticipated anything this horrible to go wrong. “Do you happen to know if there’s a hotel around?” You asked, voice wavering and clipped. The old woman nodded calmly, giving you simple directions that would lead you back the way you’d came and to the only lodging the town had to offer.

----

Checking into the hotel was easy enough thanks to your newly acquired bag of coins. The owner of the place had shown you around, and now you were sat idly in your rented room. An old four posted oak bed with simple white sheets and two duck-feather stuffed pillows was about all the luxury you were afforded. A simple wardrobe, whose wood was chipped and scratched on the legs, held what little you had brought along in your suitcase. The only saving grace of the room was the two large windows and the thin white curtains that attempted to cover them. Strong beams of sunlight were criss-crossing the room, giving it an ethereal glow that almost made up for the lack of comfort. Right now, you had both windows wide open, allowing the heat and sounds of people conversing to flow in and out as it pleased. Your face was dry now, all of your tears having been shed on your short walk from the Pharmacy to the hotel. As you gazed out the window, you tipped your head up to the clear blue sky.

If only I could live up there; you thought. No money, no worries, no stress about what to eat in a day or when to wash your clothes. All you’d have to worry about up there was which cloud to lay on and what days it was going to rain. It was a silly, childish thought; but it helped calm you nonetheless. You hoped that if anyone was really living in the sky-perhaps like something in a fairytale book that had been donated to the orphanage when you were young- that they were happy, and felt as light and airy as they could.

The longer you stared out of the window, the more you became saddened at the thought that you were never going to be able to magically disappear into the clouds. It was beyond all logic.

After a while, your stomach growled in protest, inspiring you to make a cautious trip down to the kitchen of the hotel to inquire about when dinner would be served. Much to your joy, you had arrived only five minutes before the beginning of serving. The few other people living in the hotel greeted you kindly but made no attempt at further conversation. Perhaps they had noticed the status of your dress and decided that they didn’t have time to speak with someone in your state. The thought pulled at your heart strings, causing you to question if you’d ever be able to forge a life on your own.

Once the food was available, you ate quickly and quietly, barely registering the taste of the soup and buttered bread that had been on the menu. Your earlier interactions made you self conscious, and you wished for nothing more than to sink into the seat of the oak chair you sat upon. The night was still quite young by the time you’d washed up and gotten ready for bed, but as you had nowhere to be you allowed yourself an early bedtime. You lit a small candle next to your bedside; not for the light it provided, but simply for the comfort of the flickering flame.

Dusk had begun to creep into the summer sky as you got under the comforter of the bed. A faint purple haze colored the sky, the warm breeze still as strong as it had been the entire day. A part of you had forgotten that today was your 18th birthday. None of your birthdays had ever been extravagant, but today had come and gone so hecticly that you didn’t even have a chance to enjoy being an adult. A sting of upset rocketed through your veins and you allowed yourself to wallow in it for a moment; to feel bad for yourself and your situation and the fact that the only thing you got for your birthday was a goodbye to the only life you’d ever known.

You clamped your eyes tight against the world, trying to curb your anger at the world as best as you could. With your arm over your eyes you could almost convince yourself that everything was okay, that nothing had gone wrong when you arrived at town this afternoon and you weren’t dreadfully lonely.

Just as you were about to stand and look down upon the chattering streets, a loud creak resonated through the room. It was unlike the cream that came from the bed you laid on or the door to the room. It sounded much more akin to the sound that the panes of the windows had made when you first pushed them open a few hours ago. Suddenly sweating, you laid totally still, hoping that what or who ever was trying to enter your room would walk away peacefully.

Moments passed, and you heard no new noises. Surprising even yourself, you sat up quickly and fearlessly, opening your eyes in a flash to scan the room.

“Who are you?” You yelled and then immediately regretted. What awful last words, you thought. The creak had apparently been borne from the arrival of a man, who looked just about your age, propped casually on your windowsill. Even in the odd lighting you could tell he was handsome, the sharp cut of his jaw and delicate drop of his nose leading into the curve of his Cupid’s bow were illuminated by the candle you’d lit before. The sight of a man so perfect made your heartbeat kick into overdrive.

His dark brown hair was fluffy, curled and sticking up at points in a charmingly messy way. He was dressed in simple white clothing unlike anything you were used to seeing around your city. The shirt he wore was long-sleeved but thin, form fitting enough to allow you a hint of the smooth movement of his muscles. A few small white buttons were open at the neck, giving off a glimpse of glowing, warm skin. You were almost disappointed that you couldn’t see more of him from this angle, but you were also far too nervous to change the way you were sitting.

Oddly, there was no feeling of anxiety running through your veins anymore. Although this young man had blatantly broken into your room and was sitting unnervingly still at the window, you felt no traces of anxiety. Something about him seemed oddly familiar although you couldn’t place why. Obviously you would have remembered a presence such as his but you came up empty.

He stood from the windowsill now, making steps that somehow managed not to create a single sound as he approached the bed.

“I’m Hueningkai,” his voice was even and soothing, gentle to your ears. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here... and how I found you.” You swallowed the anxious lump in your throat and finally made eye contact with him. His eyes were shimmering, a hint of amusement winking from behind his dark irises.

“What do you mean? Do I know you?”

“Ah, not quite,” he gave a small shy smile. “I do know you, though, Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but he continued speaking anyway. “I come from a place that exists just beyond the world you know. We simply call it the Five Kingdoms- one for every element known to humans. My family has ruled the Kingdom of Caeli for many eons. In fact I-“ he stopped to scratch at the back of his neck, cheeks going uncharacteristically rosy. “I am the prince of Caeli, and my father is in his final days. He sent me to find you.”

Your head spun. This had to be some kind of trick, a clever rouse to lure you into some kind of danger. But you couldn’t shake the fact that Hueningkai seemed familiar; warm and believable in his words. It was really no shock to you that another world behind your own existed. In fact, the idea of escaping the world as you know it was exhilarating.

“What is Caeli- if you don’t mind my asking. It’s not an element that I find familiar.” A blush crept along the apples of your cheeks at asking such a daft question. Hueningkai allowed an easy smile that scrunched up the fat of his cheeks charmingly.

“It means air.” He answered simply before waiting as if to see if you had any further questions.

“What did you mean that your father sent you to find me? Surely there’s no way he knows who I am. I’ve never heard of you, after all. And I don’t live a very extraordinary life,” you chucked a little as you glanced around the hotel room that seemed even more drab with Hueningkai inside of it.

“You see, as a kingdom we have many prophesies, all of which are sacred guiding principles to the actions of our people. In fact all five kingdoms have these, but right now the ones of my people are most important. For many generations the men of my family have been carrying the information of a certain prophecy that tells the story of a young girl from earth visiting Caeli. She is supposed to be kind, quaint...” he trailed off for a moment, ghosting his eyes over your figure. “And her parents are to have been from Caeli as well. She is meant to return to the Kingdom and help us fulfill her prophecy.”

You nodded despite the knot forming between your eyebrows. He was certainly insinuating that the girl from the prophecy was supposed to be you, hence why you had found him here. And you wished nothing more than to believe him, but there was one massive problem.

“Well, my parents are-”

“Passed away, yes. I never knew them but my mother and father did. You and I were born in the same year but your parents left shortly before your birth to experience life on Earth. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but ever since I first heard the prophecy I wanted to meet you. Not only am I fascinated by Earth but the idea that my-” he stopped himself short, reddening again before clearing his throat. “Essentially, I’m here to collect you as the prophecy indicates. Of course, if you truly do wish to stay here...” he skimmed the surroundings with a skeptical eye. You figured that whatever royal quarters he came from was much grander than this. “I will not force you to come along.”

“I-hold on,” you finally moved from the spot on the bed you’d been somewhat rooted to to rummage through your suitcase. In the single pocket sewn into the lining you had stashed the only photo you’d ever seen of your parents.

“Here,” you offered the photo to Hueningkai with shaky hands. He picked up the weathered film and carefully scrutinized it. “Do you...recognize them? I know you said you never knew them but I just-”

“No, no. This is them. Your parents. In the castle we keep a detailed record of everyone who has lived in Caeli, and I’ve certainly seen their faces.” A surge of excitement bolted through you at the confirmation and it was enough to make up your mind about leaving. If this place was truly where your parents had been from, there was no way you couldn’t explore it given the chance. Decisively you began to fold your clothing back into your suitcase, blushing slightly at the thought of Hueningkai watching you.

“So I take it you’re coming back with me?” He giggled a bit as you zipped the suitcase with fervor. When you whirled around again, clutching the cracking leather case, you saw that his eyes were sparkling, lips upturned in a gentle smirk.

“Oh yes, yes I’m coming with you. Uh, lead the way?”

——

The walk from your hotel room to the inconspicuous patch of tall grass that Hueningkai led you to was brisk. He kept an amazingly quick gait, breezing by all of the curious looks the two of you received as you breezed through town.

Now, the moon shone high above your bodies in the field, clearly illuminating the grass brushing against your knees. Hueningkai waved you forward through the grass patch and into the gradually thickening trees. The scent of dirt and leaves invaded your nose as you walked to an unknown location. At a seemingly random tree Hueningkai stopped and looked back at you.

“Take a step back, just in case,” he warned kindly the corners of his eyes scrunching. You did as you were told as he began to mutter something that you didn’t quite catch in time to comprehend. Right before your eyes the simple tree shifted, doubling in width and opening forward like a swinging door. Inside of it laid a beautiful wooden staircase that gleamed in the setting light of the sun. It seemed to go on forever, stretching upwards in an infinite fashion to a nondescript white light. Hueningkai took the first step easily before turning to look at you over his shoulder, encouraging you with a nod of his head.

You suddenly felt hyper aware of your body, the beating of your heart loud in your ears and the tingling of your fingers feeling like sparks of lightning. Goosebumps rose all across your skin as the two of you ascended the stairs, approaching closer and closer to the white light at the top. It had become so blinding that you had to squint your eyes closed and hope that your feet didn’t miss a step on the way up.

A few moments after shutting your eyes you felt a shift in the ground below you. It felt much softer than the solid wood of the stairs, and you could even sense that the scent lingering in the air had changed into something you could only describe as pure. Hueningkai laid a gentle, steady hand on your shoulder.

“We’re here,” you could hear the smile on his face before you even opened your eyes. You instantly became grateful for that, as the sight presented in front of you captured all of your attention. The soft ground that you’d felt before was evidently a literal cloud; fluffy and white and cushioning the soles of your feet with the most luxurious feeling you’d ever experienced. A few feet ahead, you could see the beginnings of a town like the one you knew on Earth, except the buildings were all made of a beautiful white-gray material that appeared almost like marble. What you could see from there was built grandly, tall and wide and intricate in their structure. Everything was blanketed in the same hazy glow of the sunset that you were admiring just minutes before.

Hueningkai let you marvel for a moment before he gently urged you along with a hand on your lower back. The pair of you walked past many citizens of Caeli, whom nodded or bowed politely at the sight of their prince. The thought made your face flush. Here you were- a simple, orphaned girl who until just minutes ago was helpless- flanked by the handsome and dignified prince of Caeli. You caught the eyes of a few people before shying away, noting the confusion poorly hidden behind their polite smiles. Hueningkai was immune to it all; waving kindly as he led you through the soft terrain.

Finally his footsteps slowed at the presence of large gates and grey brick walls. Clouds gathered around the fence the same way that grass bunched around walls, reminding you for a moment of being back at the orphanage and laying in the garden for hours. The gates opened instantly, revealing the castle behind them in all its glory. It was sparkling in a way that was surely magical, every single brick and window glimmering down at you bathed in the warm orangey-pink glow of sunset. Clouds gathered tightly around the base of this building too, creeping slightly up the side of the turrets the same way ivy would.

Guards dressed in shiny silver armor accompanied by similarly dressed horses. Upon seeing Hueningkai approaching they stood at salute, one frantically pulling at the chain which pulled open the gate to the main entrance. Your face grew ever hotter as you stepped inside of the castle, instantly greeted by ornate marble on every single wall. The floor beneath you was made of the same material but swirling in alternate colors of blue, black and white. In the middle of the room was a large staircase that wound upwards in two separate directions. It was obvious that the room extended back underneath the staircase too, and that was the direction in which Hueningkai lead you toward. His shoes clicked off of the marble pleasantly while yours seemed to do nothing but slide noiselessly against it.

You’d never felt more unconscious of your clothing, as you knew for a fact that the dress you were wearing right now had a clearly stitched together tear somewhere around the left shoulder. In the brighter lighting of the castle you could tell that Hueningkai’s clothing was expensive and carefully crafted. When he finally stopped walking it was at the door of what was obviously a throne room, as two large thrones covered in velvet blue coverings were sitting at the front of the room, slightly elevated above the smooth flooring. A large portrait framed in silver hung on the wall to the left of the thrones, depicting Hueningkai’s family but several years younger, as evidenced by the boyish shape of his face within the frame.

It seemed to you that there was no one within the room, but a voice suddenly sounded from a corner you couldn’t see. It was light and airy, obviously belonging to a woman. You heard the clink of heels against marble before a short, thin woman with graying hairs and a face scrunched in worry appeared right in front of the two of you. Instinctively you tried to hide behind Hueningkai’s taller frame before she could spot you but you could tell that your attempt was unsuccessful as soon as she let out a surprised squeal.

“Oh, you’ve found her! And convinced her to come! Oh, honey, your father will be so happy to see you both,” she grabbed his hands jovially and you quickly gathered that she was his mother. Reluctantly you stepped away from the cover of his body, brushing your arm against his own in your haste. Her face melted instantly upon seeing you fully.

“Oh, hello Y/N! We are so happy to have you back after all this time. Come on, you two,” she grasped your hand in her pleasantly warm one and lead you back the way you’d come. Hueningkai kept up behind the two of you, snickering under his breath when you turned your head back to give him a pleading stare. He simply shrugged at his mothers actions as you made it to the top of the marble steps. Down one more winding hallway you traveled, nodding politely at everything Hueningkai’s mother told you until you reached another grand wooden door that was guarded by another armored guard. He moved away immediately and bent into a bow.

The inside of this room was considerably darker although still covered in the same blue and silver that seemed to have been the running theme of the castle. In the middle laid a large four poster bed with a man laid in the middle. He was obviously sick-large purple bags were under his eyes and a cloth laid across his forehead. His eyes were closed as you entered the room, and they didn’t open until Hueningkai’s mother gently shook him. You had noticed that Hueningkai was standing extremely rigid next to you. His eyes were glossed in a layer of unshed tears at the sight of his father in his sickbed.

“Hello, son,” the man said weakly. Hueningkai stepped forward then to sit gingerly at the foot of the bed. In the short time you’d known him he had seemed nothing short of royal and composed, but in this very moment he looked like a child who’d just woken from a nightmare. He conversed quietly with his father before turning his angular face toward you. An awed look crossed his face for a second before he schooled it back to normal and beckoned you forward with a smile. Unable to resist it, you carefully treaded closer to the bed and stood beside Hueningkai. His father smiled to the best of his ability.

“Welcome back to Caeli, dear. I’m sure you’ve been filled in fairly well-” he paused to take a deep, shaky breath. “ We have waited many years after the news about your parents for the day you could come back. I couldn’t be happier to finally have you here and to see you alongside my son. The two of you are going to be such a lovely couple, don’t you think, dear?” Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and suddenly your mouth had gone dry. Surely the old man was going crazy from his sickness, surely he hadn’t just said that...

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more. She looks so much like her mother, doesn’t she? I should look for those pictures of us together, don’t you think?” Hueningkai’s mother enthused as she moved about the room, opening the drawers of a dresser with fervor.

You were still reeling at the idea of you and Hueningkai becoming a couple, as it was the first you’d heard of it. Meekly you turned your head to the boy in question to see that his cheeks were as rosy as you assumed they could get, head slightly bowed as he tried to avoid your gaze. Part of you wanted to question him immediately, put him on the spot in front of his parents and figure out why he had decided to neglect that fairly large piece of information.

But one glance at the content smile on his fathers face and the way his mother was chattering excitedly stopped the words in your throat.

“I- we should go, uh, look at the prophecy, I’m sure she’s curious,” Hueningkai stuttered, suddenly springing up from the bed and bumping into you in the process. Both of his parents stopped their actions and regarded the two of you before nodding their approval. He grabbed blindly for your hand for a moment before lacing his fingers between yours. His palm was just as clammy as your own and the thought calmed you a bit as you sped out of the room. Neither of you spoke as he led you back the way you’d came, passing by the wide staircase and leading you down another lengthy hallway.

The room you found yourself in this time was not guarded but was obviously important. Dim lighting illuminated what looked a bit like a library with shelves filled with thickly bound leather books. Hueningkai dropped your hand finally and you saw his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath before turning to face you. His cheeks were still slightly rosy, having only toned down a bit during travel.

“I’m so sorry they brought that up,” he rushed out. “I didn’t tell you about that part of the prophecy because-well, I figured it would scare you away. I told them before I left not to force it on you, that you’d already be in enough shock about the whole thing- and I wasn’t sure if you’d have someone on earth or even like me so I just-”

“Hueningkai,” you finally tried to get a word in edgewise and he looked stunned that you already had something to say. “I’m not upset with you. Or your parents, really. I-I don’t mind the idea of-” you stopped, frustration bubbling in your gut as you tried to string the right words together. “I think you’re quite handsome.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed wildly in his throat for a second before a wide grin began to split his face. The rosiness in his cheeks seemed to have dissipated at your words and instead a satisfied glow shone on his face. Coolly, he brushed a hand through his hair and exposed even more of his exceptionally smooth skin. You hadn’t been lying. He was easily the most attractive person you’d ever met, and there was no denying the allure of his handsome features especially here in the cozy, dimly lit room. The stare he had leveled on you was steady, unwavering as he roamed a path from your eyes, down to your lips, even further down to your body, and then back up to your eyes. Suddenly shy, you drew in on yourself, tucking your hands underneath your armpits and looking away.

“Well, it just so happens that I find you quite beautiful as well,” he spoke cheekily as his gentle fingertips traced their way across your left shoulder before resting at the apex of your neck. The warmth radiating from his hand made you smile, loosening your hold on yourself until your arms fell at your sides. Shamelessly, you stared right back at him; examining the pink petals of his lips and the honey rich tone of his skin. All time seemed to have stopped as the two of you stood and watched one another, breathing in sync. For a fleeting moment you wondered if he was feeling the same rush of nervous adrenaline to kiss you as you were feeling for him.

Despite your experience with anything romantic, your body was screaming out to feel him closer to you, to feel the soft glide of his lips against yours or the way he would hold you tightly against his chest-

“Come on,” he giggled, and you suddenly realized that he must have been speaking to you while you daydreamed. Your eyes widened apologetically as you finally got your feet to move after his own. Off of a shelf so high that even he had to rise onto his tippytoes to reach it, Hueningkai produced a thick book bound in gray leather. He dusted off the cover and propped the book open in his hands. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. The words were written in a glimmering silver ink that almost jumped off the page as you read it, and almost every paragraph was accompanied by a large, extremely detailed illustration. Hueningkai seemed to know exactly where to find what he was looking for, as he whipped through several pages before finally settling on what appeared to be the start of a new story.

The title page boasted mostly words that you didn’t understand due to the fact that you hadn’t been given much practice in reading beyond basic words. Luckily Hueningkai was too busy to catch the embarrassed flush growing from the collar of your dress to the top of your forehead.

“This is your prophecy, look!” He shoved the book toward you and you caught it with unsure hands, looking down at the first illustrations which depicted the birth of a baby and then an image of the same child having grown into a young girl. You flipped to the next page and recognized something immediately.

“That butterfly,” you jabbed a fingernail toward the page excitedly. “I’ve seen it before- its come into the garden at the orphanage so many times-” Hueningkai laughed shyly, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“That’s because I sent it down to you. For a while I didn’t have the ability to visit earth, and I was always jealous of not being able to check on you when your prophecy seemed so important-” he stopped to scratch the back of his neck and you realized he must be alluding to the prophesied relationship. “So my father suggested I send a butterfly down to report back.”

The thought made your heart swell. For a moment you imagined a younger Hueningkai bargaining with the beautiful and unique butterfly to keep an eye on you and report back to him.

“Must have been some boring reports,” you joked as you turned to the next page to see an image which depicted you entering Caeli.

“Oh, no, never! I loved learning about you. The butterfly was quite secretive at first, but before long it easily spilled everything to me. That was how I knew where to find you tonight.”

It had to have been true, as you recalled seeing the butterfly resting on the windowsill of your bedroom as you packed up your belongings to move.

The next page you flipped to had to be one of the last, as it showed the image of a girl being embraced by a royal family, wedding gown and veil firmly in place. You swallowed the lump in your throat and gingerly took in the next image which depicted the man and woman sitting in the same thrones you’d seen before, wearing elegant crowns and smiling down at a room full of citizens. Surely the words afforded more information but you didn’t bother with trying to understand them.

Hueningkai took back the book and returned it to its shelf.

“Now that you’ve seen the...ending,” he cringed at his own words, “I hope you understand why my parents brought it up. They’ve been waiting for this moment since I was born. I had been told this story so many times, but when I realized the prince destined to be married to the girl from earth-you- was actually me? I-I couldn’t wait to meet you. It surely is a shame that your parents passed away so young and you ended up in the orphanage.”

Your face must have turned sour because he instantly recoiled, doubling back on his words.

“Oh! No, I don’t mean that you’re lesser- I just mean that we could have met sooner had your parents lived. I couldn’t care less where you’ve lived the last eighteen years,” he whispered, sensing the fallen edges of your face. “Truly, you are just as wonderful to me in hand me down clothes as you would be in the finest silks. The most important thing is that you’re finally here, and I can learn about you without the help of an insect. I hope you stay for a while.”

You let out a laugh and his shoulders sagged with relief. With a surge of unfounded confidence you wrapped your arms tightly around his midsection, pressing your face flat against his broad chest and muttering;

“I’m glad we finally met, too, Hueningkai. And I won’t be going anywhere.”

----

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Hueningkai called as he walked into what had become your bedroom when you arrived. He was dressed in his finest suit, a light blue jacket with matching trousers layered over a white button up with ruffles around the collar. His hair was styled away from his face, boasting all of his strong features for anyone to see. For once your clothing matched his own; a flowing light blue dress with layers of fluff at the skirt that made it hard to sit down. Thankfully you had been allowed to forgo the corset, but the top of your dress was still comfortably snug around your stomach and chest. For the first time in your life you were wearing a small bit of makeup and an updo as well as a pair of small heels.

Today was the day you were to finally be introduced to the people of Caeli. Ever since your arrival you had been squirreled away in the castle- not that you were complaining- and had become a distant memory to the few citizens who had seen you arrive weeks ago. In that time, Hueningkai’s father had recovered from whatever sickness had ailed him when you came, and most citizens were too overjoyed with that news to bother worrying about you.

But now you had to worry about them. Hueningkai’s mother had been kind enough to tell you stories about your parents and teach you the basic customs of Caeli without ever pushing you to change who you were. She laughed at your jokes and the way you scarfed down whatever food was put in front of you and never once suggested that you fix your etiquette.

“What if they don’t like me?” You asked as soon as Hueningkai was within your line of sight. A feeling of dread had been bubbling in your stomach since yesterday morning and was the cause of your sleepless night. “I mean I’m just...a random stranger that waltzed in and is now living in the castle...what if someone has a crush on you and they hate me for being real?” You gasped at the thought of some scorned teenage girl hurling a shoe toward your head as you were presented.

Hueningkai sighed. “They will love you, Y/N. The entire kingdom has been awaiting your arrival, for the prophecy to be fulfilled. You are kind, and smart and understanding and beautiful. And if they don’t like you then too bad. I like you, and that’s all that matters. None of them would dare to go against the word of the Prince.”

Your heart hammered wildly against your ribs at his words. There was no denying that you’d grown closer and closer to him as you spent so much time around the castle. The small kindling of a crush you’d had on him when you first met had turned into a raging fire of infatuation.

He brought a hand up to your face and gently cupped your flushed cheek. Instinctively you nuzzled in closer, relishing in the feeling of his touch. “You are still the most wonderful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. And if my kingdom fails to notice that, then they’re at fault.” His voice had barely come above a whisper but it sent a noticeable chill down your spine. Hueningkai drifted his thumb over your bottom lip gently, rubbing at the bitten flesh there. Your eyelids fluttered quickly, trying to keep focus on his face as he inched closer.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally murmured. You nodded and mumbled a rushed yes before you could even comprehend the movement. Your body was buzzing as if it were filled with bees, but you kept your lidded eyes focused on him as he descended. Before you knew it he had attached his lips to your own and they were just as soft and supple as you always imagined. He was clearly testing the waters with a small peck, but it left you yearning for more as you captured him in a passionate kiss that had your fingers curling into the nape of his neck.

“That was,” he finally spoke again, wiping at his now swollen lips with the back of his hand. Your chests were both heaving with the unbridled adrenaline you had just experienced. A feeling of warmth, one that had become so common around Hueningkai that you barely registered it, rippled through your body and calmed your frayed nerves. Hueningkai grabbed your hand firmly, fingers curling between yours in a perfect fit of palms, and lead you out of your room toward the front gate of the castle. A new, unknown chapter of your young life was just beginning in the one place you never thought possible, but the one thing you were sure of was that Hueningkai would always be by your side.

367 notes · View notes