#still feels like my brain is on fire for all the information getting shoved through it

[canmom]

one thing I learned recently - that seems obvious in retrospect - is that 'being able to recognise intervals and chords by ear' is not necessarily something that you need to just hope will happen automatically if you music hard enough.

if you go to music school there's a specific exercise they do called 'ear training' where they sit you down and make you practice recognising stuff (chords and intervals and so on) - either the teacher will play it or you can get software that plays a thing and asks you to identify it. sorta like the musical equivalent of using a spaced repetition system to memorise vocab in language learning.

there's actually an ear training program in the GNU suite. you can get it here. it's just a python program that hooks into your computer's MIDI.

[thesoftestpunk]

I want you, Baby I need you

Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/

Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!

Main Masterlist

Pt.2

“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”

“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?” 

“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”

Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating. 

“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?” 

You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.

Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class. 

“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.” 

Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering. 

You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.

“How many tattoos do you have?”

For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile. 

“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head. 

“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”

“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago. 

“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you. 

Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks. 

“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you. 

Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”

“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough. 

“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is. 

You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings. 

You’re starting to like Eddie.

“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”

“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”

She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”

“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today. 

She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s. 

“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”

“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”

“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”

“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.

“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”

“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”

“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”

“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?” 

“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table. 

You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today. 

“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”

“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense. 

“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday. 

You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame. 

Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either. 

The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now? 

“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”

“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”

“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”

“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it. 

“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”

“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?” 

Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you. 

“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”

The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks. 

“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence. 

“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?” 

Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you. 

“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands. 

You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.

Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault. 

You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.

You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop. 

His little sheepies. Which means… 

Fuck. 

Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away. 

“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”

“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!” 

All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved? 

“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”

“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”

“Bitchy?”

That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation. 

“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.

“I thought it was locked after hours.” 

You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”

“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted. 

You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water. 

“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows. 

“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.” 

“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”

“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”

“Christina wasn’t far off.” 

The admission bounces around as you look at him.

“Eddie…”

“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”

“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you. 

“So don’t you have us much say as her?”

“With her tyrannical rule? No way.” 

“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.” 

“You’ve read…?”

“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”

Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open. 

“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.

“Campaign…?” 

“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength. 

“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head. 

“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”

“Wait. Can you swim?”

“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.” 

“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”

“Right, I’ll uh…”

“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.” 

Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap. 

“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.

“You’re gonna regret that!” 

You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air. 

“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves. 

“You cheated.” 

“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water. 

“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.” 

He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock. 

“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.” 

Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed. 

“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long. 

“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”

Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him. 

“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”

“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.

“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”

“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”

“Do not make me regret this.” 

You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water. 

“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.

“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”

“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”

“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”

It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.

You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile. 

“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent. 

He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.

“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”

“Have what?”

Shit. You were too vague.

“A crush, dummy.” 

Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long. 

“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.” 

“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.” 

Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.

“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”

“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.

Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.

“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”

“So will you!”

“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.

“Fine.”

Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.

“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.

Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.

[dxckgrxsonx]

You wanted asks, I shall give you asks. Can we get Jason with the following three prompts?

You can give me another one

Good girl - Good fucking girl

Don't be shy now, come sit on my face

(I can't remember the words for each of these prompts 100%)

They don't have to be in any specific order. Have a ball, Ella, dear!

**

Insecurity comes easy.

It comes as something reflective rather than purposeful or actively thought about beforehand. Catch your reflection on any shiny surface and you flinch away from it like it hurts, like the sight of yourself is nothing more than a punch to the gut. You do it on autopilot, without thinking, without really knowing.

There’s nothing manual about self hatred.

It’s not far off to say you don’t like the way you look.

It’s more accurate to say you don’t really like yourself at all.

You should have known that Jason would notice eventually. He can draft up mission parameters in one good sitting and has the ability to calculate bullet trajectories like simple arithmetic. He’s smart in a way that can cut, sharp like a blade, precise like a surgeon.

Deadly in ways you can’t ever imagine.

Unbelievably supportive in the ways you can.

Body language speaks in volumes to those who are willing to listen and Jason takes note of every little thing your body gives away without you knowing. You try to fold in on yourself when you’re overwhelmed, fight your own bones to make yourself smaller and smaller until you can simply slip away.

You tap the outside of your thigh then you’re mad, a quick three tap rhythm before a pause and then you start again, furious and shaking and tap tap tap. You do the same thing when you’re deep in thought, brain sifting through information both new and old and there you are, tapping away.

You hide your face when you’re nervous, when you’re shy.

Jason thinks it’s sweet but he’s always liked seeing your pretty face when he makes you flustered.

**

Droplets of water chase over your hip and down the outside of your thighs when you finish showering and start the hunt for your pyjamas. Jason lies flat out in the centre of your bed when you exit the bathroom and you quirk up an eyebrow in half formed confusion.

“If you’re planning on sleeping like that all night I might actually consider murder.” Jason opens one eye to glance at you before reaching out his hand towards where you’re standing. Smoothing your fingers over his open palm you slot your hands together and smile, “What are you up to, Todd?”

The faintest smirk lifts the corner of his mouth and you place one knee on the bed so you can lean over and kiss him softly, gently, smiling when he responds and nips at your bottom lip with almost too much teeth.

Jason silently pulls at your arm and forces you to straddle his thick waist, eyes cracked open and watching your face, cataloguing each reaction to his antics. Something akin to suspicion flashes across your features and Jason catches it immediately.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He drawls, stroking at your still damp skin. Trying to guide you higher up with an insistent hand you freeze, head turning away to glance at something towards the window. ““Don’t be shy now, come sit on my face.”

“Jay–.” You whine, worried, aroused.

“Always wanted you to sit on my face, baby.” Jason confesses. “Indulge me?”

You’ve never been able to say no to him.

Shuffling up towards his greedy mouth you shudder when his breath brushes over the inside of your thighs, skin prickling and horribly sensitive. Jason sighs your name adoringly and grabs at your hips to keep you still when his tongue darts out to lick through your folds.

Whimpering when the flat of his tongue drags firm over your clit he coos just slightly then shoves his face into your pussy.

Greedy. Starved.

He’s messy with it, gets his mouth and chin glistening with your juices and you feel like fire, feel like you’re falling through miles and miles of open air, wings aflame on your back, burning burning burning until you’re crying and writhing, watching from the centre of all that heat as you come apart.

Jason is ruthless and takes everything you give, hips grinding down desperately onto his talented mouth as he suckles at your wet, throbbing clit as you come, tongue dragging over it again and again until you sink your trembling fingers into his hair and pull, unsure if you’re forcing him closer or further away.

“There you go.” He rasps, panting and groaning deep from the back of his throat, lips swollen and almost dripping with your slick. “There’s a good girl.”

The praise almost kills you.

Words fail you and you whine, clit twitching when he gives your pussy a long wet kiss, mouth closing over the bundle of nerves so he can write out the letters of his own name between each desperate pulse.

“Jay–hng–fuck!” Your hips jump forwards, almost flinching when he licks at your entrance, pussy grasping at the tip of his tongue as he pushes it in. His nose nudges up against your clit and every nerve flares awake, thighs quaking in his hands. “Oh…S’good.”

Smoothing his hand up your chest Jason hooks two fingers in your open mouth and shoves down on your tongue until drool spills down your chin, “Oh look at that. You’re making such a mess.” Every sound you make is garbled and Jason goes back to your clit, eyes lighting up when he notices it’s more sensitive now that you’ve come once. “I think you want to come again, don’t you?”

You barely manage to nod your head before Jason strokes and sucks at your clit until it flinches and comes again, twitching wildly in his mouth as you wail, body almost folding in half with the borderline overstimulation.

“Good girl—that's a good fucking girl." Jason manages to get out through a mouthful of your soaking pussy. Then immediately, “You can give me another one, can't you baby? for me, please?”

“I can’t–hurts–S’too much.” You slur, trying desperately to speak through his fingers in your mouth. “Sensitive.”

Making out with your clit Jason gives it gentle kisses, mouth soft, lips and tongue wet until you relax and go slack above him. The pressure is barely there and curls around manageable until he moves his hands to grab at your hips and sucks your clit, hard.

Your voice cracks on a yell and Jason shoves you over the edge for the third time.

“M’done.” You shudder, feeling like you can’t quite come down from your high. You swat at his hands and Jason rubs circles into your hips. “Please. Can’t take any more.”

“Okay.” Jason soothes, moving you back down so you can sit in his lap. “You did so well for me, baby. My good girl. My pretty girl.”

Tucking your face into the crook of his neck he kisses the top of your head and you smile, tired and shaking and swimming in nothing but praise.

**

Prompts are from this list.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

For What It's Worth - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Plan is formulated.

Max Verstappen x Reader. 

Chapter Summary: Max finally sees the flowers that lead to his downfall and reluctantly helps his best friend come up with a plan to find out who sent them. 

Warnings: Swearing. 

Word Count: 2736.

Author's Note: Please forgive me for this taking so long. Life happens I guess. I have als decided I am probably going to be making the chapters slightly shorter, because yeah, just something fun and silly. Can’t wait to hear your guys thoughts On all of this <3 

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“I mean, they’re flowers?” Both you and Max stood above the bunch resting on the table, the note lying just below them, conveniently placed upside down so it couldn’t be read. Max couldn’t help but feel that the florist's logo was taunting him. His hand gripping the back of the chair that he was leaning on, itching to turn the card over to silence its taunts. The only thing worse would be what was on the other side of the card. He couldn’t look at that. His own words, his confession staring back at him. 

“They’re my favourite flowers.” Your stance mimicked Max’s, only now you were looking at him. You watched as he slowly nodded his head, not in recognition of being told new information, but instead a nod of confirmation. “So I assume you told him which flowers to get then?” 

It was accusatory, you were egging him to confess that he knew who had sent the flowers. “I didn’t tell anyone these were your favourite flowers.” He still hadn’t looked at you, eyes willing the note to catch fire. 

“But you knew these were my favourite flowers?” He could feel the sweat starting to drip down the side of his face where you were burning a hole with your eyes. 

“In my defence, everyone knows these are your favourite flowers, I didn’t need to tell anyone because you cannot keep any personal information to yourself.” This was the first time he looked at you and  he couldn't help but feel a smile tug at his lips as he caught sight of the scandalised look on your face. 

“Don’t lie, I am very good at keeping secrets, thank you very much.” You shoved Max’s shoulders, you couldn’t help but notice how his arms tensed under the force, which helped him barely even move from his position. 

“You’re good at keeping other people's secrets, your own though? You’re an open book.” It was a matter of fact and he knew you knew he wasn’t wrong, your silence and scowl confirming exactly what he had just said. 

“So you didn't tell him?” As he shook his head in response, he was simultaneously confused and slightly insulted that you hadn’t assumed it was him. Had you completely written him off as a viable option considering the fact that you both worked together? 

“Have you read the note?” There was absolutely no chance that he was going to read what was on that note, and anyway, he already knew exactly what was written and what was meant to be written, his name. 

“I don’t need to read the note.” It sounded childish coming out, even he knew that, but he really really did not need to read that note, especially not in front of you. 

“Read the note Max.”  You reached forward to turn it over, and there were the words, His words, mocking him even more violently than that logo had. 

The WDC means nothing if I don’t have a woman like you by my side. 

They could cheer my name in those stands until the end of time, but the only name I’d ever recognize myself having is “yours”. 

Even on that podium, in front of a sea of people, only when I see you, do I truly feel like I have something worth celebrating. 

You are my calm, my favourite feeling, my safe space, I can only hope that I can be yours as well? 

“Do you think he was asking me out?” Your voice pierced through the ringing in his ears, his brain inundated with criticism of why this was the worst love note he could have possibly written. It had seemed cute at the time, the F1 theme and all made sense, he was a WDC, you worked for him in F1, you had met because of F1, kind of, sort of, he didn’t like to dwell on that moment too much, but now, the note seemed awful. It seemed like a cliche. 

And worst of all, you didn’t even understand that he was asking you to be his girlfriend. Could he have fucked this up any more than he already had? 

Thank God he had forgotten his name. 

“I think he was probably asking you out,” he took a quick glance your way before continuing, testing the waters, “I think he might have been asking you to be his girlfriend?” 

Why the fuck were you scrunching your face like that? 

“He is not asking me to be his girlfriend.” The scoff you added at the end had Max feeling a lot more offended than he was allowed to show in this situation. 

“Of course he’s asking you to be his girlfriend. Look at the last line.” Max shoved the note in your direction, making sure to only briefly touch the card. 

“Who asks someone to be their girlfriend without signing their name?” You shoved the card back. 

“A fucking idiot.”  Him. 

“Which could be any driver on this grid.” He hated how smug you looked right now, especially because it was him. He was the idiot. No one else on that grid would have done something this stupid. Just him. 

“And you want me to help you?” You frantically nodded along, “You want me to find you an idiot to date?” Max felt the entire air of the room shift, and yes, he can admit that maybe he had said that a little harshly, but he wasn't expecting you to look so deflated at the comment. 

“Well, yeah, I mean, he clearly either pays attention to me or he went out of his way to make the effort and like, yeah, I know that maybe it’s the bare minimum, but I don’t know if you can tell, but it’s not exactly like I date a lot.” You had stopped looking directly at him and Max, for the first time, had noticed that you were a little embarrassed by the confession. 

“You should date more.” Me. You should date me. More. Well, you should start. Is what Max wanted to say. 

“Of course, if only it was that easy, you know, all things considered.” You laughed along to your own joke as you began moving around your hotel room, grabbing your jacket which had been previously strewn on the bed, slowly ushering Max out of the room with you so you could leave. 

“Considering what?” Max shut the door behind him and quickly fell in step with you, making your way down the hall. 

“You know? All the travel? Being the assistant to the big bad Max Verstappen?” You stopped in front of the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor. 

“Big Bad Max Verstappen?” What did your dating life have to do with you being his assistant?

“You do know men will not get near me because of the fact that we are together constantly. There have been a  lot of rumours of us dating Max. How do you not know this?” 

He hated how proud he felt. He truly hated how good this all made him feel, but yeah, he wanted everyone to know that you were his. Well, not yet, but you were going to be his girlfriend.  

Eventually. 

Hopefully. 

“Hurry up, you’re going to be late!” He had noticed that you were already at the hotel doors, waiting for him to catch up and so he had broken out into a jog to catch up with you. 

“Yeah, well, maybe they should stay away.” Wrong this for him to say, but he was proud of it. 

“Why? So you can just keep me as your assistant forever?” You laughed as you slid into the car, losing Max;s eyesight. 

“You do realise you’re also my best friend right? Like, my best friend in the whole wide world?” He started the car and pulled into traffic. 

“You’re the one who hired me Max, and plus, it’s a race weekend. I’m your friend after hours.”  He hated that you put your feet on the dash. 

“Probably should have never done that.” You let out a laugh that filled the car, but you would never know how serious he actually he was. 

Every part of him regretted hiring you. If he hadn’t then maybe he could have you in the paddock with him as his girlfriend instead. A girlfriend he could hug and kiss publically and not be the creepy fucking boss. 

“Getting sick of me already?”Max countered, willing himself not to look at you while he was driving. He always found himself having to do exactly this. 

“I could never get sick of you Maxie” He knew you were teasing him, but he’d be lying if he said that one sentence didn't mean the world to him too. 

“If you’re going to be cheeky, you can always just quit.” 

“Fine.”

“No.”

You barked out your laugh and he couldn’t help but mimic it, mostly from relief though. He was embarrassingly reliant on you, and not even as his assistant, although, yeah, as his assistant too, but it was mainly as his friend. 

“You saying you need me there Maxie.” More teasing. 

“Yes.” He chose to be completely honest with you. 

He could feel your eyes on him, his hands gripping the steering wheel just ever so slightly tighter, making the final turn towards the track. 

“Yeah, I need you too.” It was a whisper, he was almost certain he wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did. Maybe there was still a chance. 

The rest of the ride was silent, comfortable, both of you letting the confessions sit in the air, allowing you both to breathe them in. 

The next time either of you speak, you’re making your way into the paddock, the nerves of the season finally seeping in as the first real day of the race weekend begins. 

“So, I’ve come with a plan.” You shuffled through the gates, Max following close behind.

“A plan for what?” Max tried to wrack his brain for what could possibly need a plan of action for the weekend, “There's? Wait, that's for PR and my strategist?”

“Max, no, a plan to figure out who sent the flowers.” You shot Mx a confused look, wondering how he had already forgotten about the conversation from this morning. 

“Oh.” Fuck, this again. 

“So,” You either didn’t notice or just chose to ignore his disinterested reaction as you carried on updating him on what you had come up with, “I’m making a list of each driver on the grid you it could possibly be,” you looked to Max, waiting for his nod before you would continue, “And then kind of, seducing him to maybe,”

“No.”

You looked at Max after the sharp instruction left his mouth. His face was hard set, jaw clenched, eyes forward as he tried to keep his cool. 

“Well, how else am I meant to figure out who it was if I don't,”

“If you say the word seduce again, you’re fired.” He’d fire you purely so he could date you, he’d fire you to get you out of this paddock and away from the other drivers immediately, he would do anything to not have to watch you seduce anyone other than him. 

“Well what should I do then?” The slap of your arms against your thighs after you dropped them in frustration was enough to finally draw Max’s full attention back to you and what he found was you waiting for an actual idea from him. 

He was going to have to help the woman he loves figure out how to seduce other men. His friends. 

If anything happens between any of them, he was a little nervous that he was going to take them out on the track. 

He was losing his mind. 

“Maybe just go up and ask them?” They’d say no, Max would be happy and then he could figure out how to actually get you. Maybe he should seduce you. 

No, that’s what the flowers were, and then he’d still be the creepy boss. 

“And embarrass myself? No way.” 

“And you won’t do that while trying to seduce them?” he faked a laugh as you shoved him away from you. 

“Firstly, you’ve never seen me seduce anyone, I'm excellent at it, and secondly, I bet I could have you on your knees with my seduction skills so don’t laugh.” Max felt his entire face heat up at the thought of being on his knees for you. He most certainly wasn’t laughing now. 

“Who exactly would you be seducing?” He could get around this. There was always going to be a way for him to get around this. The guys all knew how he felt about you. Surely none of them would fall for any of this, so why not entertain it for a little bit while he figures out what his next move is. 

“I knew you’d come around to it! Okay, so I was thinking we should start with Daniel.” Max was going to throw up. 

“Daniel?” No, all of this was a bad idea. No. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, he was kind of like, looking at me last night, and when we were walking back inside he had his hand on my lower back and like, you know?” If he wasn’t so angry he would have noted how cute the blush looked on your cheeks, but no, he was furious. Daniel knew how he felt and now he was doing all of this? He needed to talk to Daniel, put him in his place when it came to you.

But, he also does all of this to you? Why was he excluded from the potential pool of drivers interested in you? 

“So Daniel, then Lando, Carlos,” you continued in lieu of Max responding to your suspicions about Daniel, “then there’s Yuki, George and Lewis.”

“This list is getting pretty long.” God, even Max knew he sounded pathetic with that comment. 

“Shut up, there’s a lot of options on that grid.” You grabbed a cup of coffee as you continued rambling on to Max, “and finally, Charles and Pierre.” 

“What, not considering me then?” You giggled at his comment, despite how serious he was being, unbeknown to you. 

“Probably a little unprofessional to flirt with my boss.” Please, please flirt with me, it’s all Max could think about as you placed the cup of coffee in front of him. “So, what do you think?” You sipped on your cup, waiting for Max to give some decent input. 

“It's a list.” The coffee tasted awful. 

“Max, please, I just want a shot at love too.” Your voice was too soft, too honest. If Max wasn’t such a coward, this would have been his moment to tell you that you’ve always been loved by him, for too long for him to still be keeping it a secret, but he loved every part of you, in every scenario, in every way. And he was going to love you through this too. 

“Okay, so, when do you start seducing Daniel.” Your smile was beaming at him, but he couldn’t help how heartbroken he felt at knowing it was because you were going to try and get another man, one that wasn;t him, one that he considered one of his best friends. 

“Well, he’s here this weekend, so why not this Grand Prix?” Your smile had turned from bright to sly and Lord knows Max really really wanted to see that smile in a very different context, where he was the one you were thinking about. Maybe even if you two were alone, in his hotel room, which is exactly what could have happened if the whole thing with the flowers had actually gone how he had planned it. Instead, here you were, thinking about his friend, who he was going to kill and help you flirt with. 

In his entire life, out of everything he had ever endured, this was the most defeated he had ever felt, but if it made you happy, well then, 

“Yeah, this Grand Prix it is.” 

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[valeriianz]

in the spirit of dreamling week, here's a scene i wrote for the last chapter of Let Me Down Easy that i deleted, where they do get frisky in bed (nothing explicit). so please don't read this if you haven't finished that fic yet!

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When Hob wakes, it’s to the feeling of someone combing fingers through his hair.

He hums, unconsciously smothering himself against the hot body next to him and hearing a sharp intake of breath above him.

“Hob,” a deep, melodious voice speaks. “Hob, are you awake?”

“Dream?” Hob blearily responds, blinking his eyes open as he comes to full consciousness.

He looks up and finds Dream staring down at him. Slowly, events of the day before come flooding back into his brain.

“Oh my God…” Hob mumbles and the fingers in his hair halt at once.

“Is…” Dream shuts his mouth, licking his lips and starting over. “Is this alright, Hob?”

Hob continues to stare, his mouth dropping open.

“I can’t believe you’re still here.”

“Shit, Hob.” Dream chuckles warily, one brow raising. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Bit by bit, Hob takes Dream in. The stubble on his chin, the bags under his eyes, his sleep mussed hair and the wonderment in his eyes. Like he’s looking at Hob for the first time; like he’d never see him again, drinking in his fill, and it makes Hob want.

He sits up, ignoring all logic and reason to roll on top of Dream and pushing him back into the pillows, using the surprised gasp to lean forward and shove his tongue down Dream’s throat.

Dream’s mouth is sour and Hob’s sure his morning breath isn’t any better, but regardless Dream groans loudly, like a dragon purring over his treasure as he kisses back, getting his hands around Hob’s middle and holding on.

Hob breaks off with a salacious sound, getting his hands in raven black hair and pulling it to expose Dream’s neck.

“I thought we agreed to– ah.” Hob chuckles, managing to cut Dream off. He rolls his hips down, bringing attention to both of their arousals. “To take it slow.”

Hob bites at the skin behind Dream’s ear, pleased to see it’s still a sensitive area that makes Dream grab hold of him tightly and thrust up, tearing a moan out of both of them.

“Fuck slow,” Hob pants, rocking his hips in earnest now, the material of their sleep clothes causing frustrating, delicious friction. “I want you, now.”

Dream growls and Hob’s heart leaps in his chest as Dream bends his knees, trapping Hob in between them, and rolls them over with a strength that should not exist so early in the morning, pinning Hob underneath him. 

“Oh, fuck,” Hob grins, his hands landing on Dream’s thighs. 

Dream sits up, the blanket falling off him and he’s clearly about to pull his shirt off, when he stills, his head twitching.

And then Hob hears it, the distinct sound of a cell phone buzzing.

“Ignore it, Dream.”

Dream sighs, knocking his head back violently enough that Hob hears it crack.

“It’s my agent, I know it is.”

He leans down again, his hand diving under the pillow and retrieving his phone, pulling it up and swiping across the screen.

“Hello, Lucienne.” Dream looks down at Hob, biting his bottom lip and Hob is struck, almost like the first time they’d met, with how utterly and completely fucked he was. 

Because there was no way he couldn’t not love Dream. Wearing Hob’s old shirt, wrinkled and over-washed. His hair wild and uncombed, thick and begging Hob’s fingers to run through it. And the way his jaw dropped now, eyes squinting shut as a yawn tore through him as his agent– Lucienne– gave him a proper earful on the other side of the line.

“... apologies I forgot to inform you I wouldn’t be back… I didn’t mean to worry you…” He casts his eyes around the room, the fingers on his free hand walking down his thigh to meet with Hob’s, lacing them together and setting Hob’s heart on fire.

“... No I met up with–” his eyes swing back to Hob and Hob raises an eyebrow, challengingly. Dream’s lips break out into a smirk. “I ran into an old friend, I stayed at his place…”

Hob looks down at where they are connected, Dream’s crotch settled comfortably against his, where Hob’s excitement is beginning to wane. He pushes his hips up, one hand digging into the flesh of Dream’s thigh and grinning at the way it makes Dream stutter into the phone. The glare he shoots at Hob is probably meant to be reprimanding, but it’s underlined with obvious interest that Hob doesn’t feel guilty at all for it. In fact, he caresses his hand up Dream’s thigh, his thumb digging particularly close to the slight tent in his pants, and up under his shirt, touching sleep soft, warm skin beneath.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just–” Dream’s jaw drops, eyes locked to Hob’s as Hob grips Dream’s hip and pulls him down just as he rolls his hips up again. “I– I have to go now.”

Dream starts meeting Hob’s thrusts again, deep and languid and Hob smirks victoriously, dropping Dream’s hand to get both of his on those thin hips now and pull Dream forward with a bit more force.

Dream nearly drops the phone, tearing his eyes away, taking a slow breath in and focusing on ending the conversation with Lucienne.

“No, of course I haven’t forgotten. I must be off now. I will see you tonight.”

Dream finally hangs up and drops the phone, grabbing Hob’s wandering hands and pinning them to either side of his head, leaning down with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“You are a menace, Hob Gadling.”

Hob grins. He’s missed this. How easy it is to be with Dream, to tease and taunt him. He feels five years younger, alive and full of reckless hope and love.

“Not the worse I’ve done,” Hob breathes, arching his neck up to bite Dream’s bottom lip.

[ceebit]

⠀⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀ in love ⠀· l. juyeon

⟡ note : me, near tears, in cat’s dms at ass o’clock in the morning : he makes me so ill… i need to scoop his heart out and hold it with my bare hands / cat, nodding sagely : so true

⟡ wc : 0.5k. fluff. juyeon has my heart but this is old news already. (this was supposed to be his birthday fic but. brain refused to work </3 happy belated bday to the boy of my heart)

how does it feel to be in love?

eye opening, he’d answer. he’s got all these little miscellaneous pieces of information dancing around his head now, like your favorite characters from one specific movie and how you like to watch raindrops race against windows with a warm cup of tea. definitely a lot more calming than he was expecting, to say the least.

he’s heard all these stories. these tales of dramatic and life turning events leading to realizing that one person out of a billion is yours, and he doesn’t feel it. the… burning urges, the fire in his chest, the reality warping incidents. he’d rather leave that to the movies and otherworldly dates hyunjae comes back from.

but he still feels something. a deep tug in his heart when he sees you—really sees you, existing in this time and place with him—that makes the tips of his ears tinge red and common words fail to come forth. and he doesn’t know how to explain it, but while he’s heard of others that ran head first into love, he does know it more or less tapped his shoulder and smiled at him like a long lost friend.

how does it feel to be in love?

freeing, he’d add after a moment’s pause. the assurance in someone else knowing you as well as you know yourself, sometimes even better, and accepting you still, despite your faults. the settled weight in your mind and soul after giving yourself the chance to be vulnerable with someone who loves you. silent mornings spent with his head on your shoulder as the sun rises. grocery shopping after the sunday morning tide. the way your nose scrunches when you can’t help but laugh at his stupid jokes, shoving his shoulder away in the midst of trying to catch your breath.

that split second when you catch them suspended in time and think, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you. and you feel like the luckiest person alive knowing they love you back tenfold.

saying he fell in love makes it feel like he didn’t have a choice. like you’d bewitched him somewhere down the line with your cunning wits and whims and he was merely acting with his heart and not his head.

it’s more like. a stroll? through a park with your hand in his and talking about what dog you might want to adopt one day. or like the comfort of finally crawling into bed after a long day and getting to fall asleep knowing he’ll wake up next to you.

or something. metaphors were always overused and overdone.

how does it feel to be in love?

he smiles when he thinks of you. zones out to memories that construct a web of a life he never would have dreamed of having but now holds on to with a fervor he hadn’t seen himself with—at least pertaining to love of this kind. you’ve entered his life with not a bang but a gentle push, planting seeds of your kind with his, and they tangle and root themselves within him to stay for as long as you’ll let them.

being in love feels like being yours, he’ll conclude. and that’s all he ever wants to be for you.

back home ⟡ the archive ⟡ join my taglist ⟡ last post

[lys1]

Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 

Playing With Potions

—————

The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

[chateautae]

the most wonderful time of the year | kth. (m)

➵ summary :  taehyung hasn’t seen you since high school graduation, but when he finds himself in need of a date for his friend’s annual christmas party, running into you is like a godsend; especially when he once had feelings for you, and little did he know, you felt the same way all along.

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  nonidol!au, f2l, fluff, smut

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 19k

➵ warnings : mutual pining, sexual content, swearing, dom!tae, cuddling resulting in over the clothes stuff, rough fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, big dick!tae cause we know he’s packing, marking, restraint (with his own hands), choking, begging, unprotected sex (wrap it up peeps), hitting it from the back 😜, mirror (?) sex (reflection of a window), rough sex but then i love you sex, praising, slight humiliation, denied orgasm, creampie, aftercare

part of ksmutclub’s winter project 2020!, using prompt #7: “did everyone else come with a date?”

➵ a/n : thank you to @getmemyfries​ for beta-reading and constantly reassuring me about this fic, idk where she’s been all my life 😭, but surprise!! would you believe me if i told you guys i grinded this in just 3 days?? because YES i did, 19k in three days as a Christmas gift pretties, happy late holidays!!, comments and feedback are always appreciated <3

“Are you serious, Jimin?” 

“Very. I don’t know how you didn’t get the memo, literally everyone was talking about it.” 

“Did everyone else come with a date? There has to be at least one person who didn’t.” 

“And that one person is you, Tae. Did you forget that I made the theme all about mistletoe? Who did you expect to kiss under it, me?” 

“Super funny, Jimin. I just got really busy and I don’t even think I was paying attention to you.” 

“Well, it’s your loss now, everyone came with a date and you’ll be third-wheeling the whole night. You can’t blame us either, it’s cuffing season and you know it.” 

“Do I really have to come? I’ll just spend Christmas with my family.” 

“And ruin their vacation with your annoying ass? What a lovely son, an even better best friend for ditching my party.” 

“Okay, Jimin, I get it. Just-fuck, alright, I’ll find someone. Please tell me you didn’t plan anything too couply in case I have to bring an absolute stranger.” 

“Hmm, I’ll think about it.” 

And Jimin cut the call without a second to spare. 

Taehyung stood there baffled, appalled by his best friend for not even having said goodbye. But then again, maybe he really deserved it. Taehyung had just become too busy with his job this year to even think about Jimin and his friends’ party, allowing it to inhabit the back of his mind and loom over him for weeks, though not giving it the time of day he should’ve. 

And now he’s stuck in a situation he doesn’t know how to get out of. The party is in just two days, how exactly was he supposed to find someone that would even agree to accompany him? 

One, they would have to be someone explicitly bored on Christmas Eve. Two, comfortable with meeting complete strangers and spending an entire night with them. Third, they would have to be willing to even fake-date him. 

Taehyung knew he could at least satisfy the third requirement with just a smidge of his charm and good looks, though the real issues were the other two requirements, especially the first one. 

Who the fuck is ever doing nothing on Christmas Eve? 

These are the exact thoughts that clouded Taehyung’s mind, sighing heavily as he dejectedly sauntered into a coffee shop after work. It wasn’t the usual place, but he decided on a new one in search of a possible partner; even if it were a stranger from a different coffee shop, he’d take what he could get. 

It’s precisely why he began scanning the room just enough to discern any potential date as he waited in line. With his hands in his pockets, lips buried into his plaid scarf that draped over his brown winter coat, and attempted to make eye contact with any female he thought eligible. 

He spotted some cute girls, though made quick judgements about them not fitting his requirements; some meeting boyfriends, family, yapping away about Christmas plans as though the whole store needed to hear about it.

Pulling out his phone, he considered he had some female friends, maybe co-workers he could convince to tag along. It sounded like a great idea in his head, though when he scrolled though his contacts carefully, he found himself coming up short once again. 

Not only had he seen his friends’ stories, all flaunting their very apparent Christmas plans, but even more so his co-workers having literally informed him about either flying back home, meeting family or easing up far, far away on a tropical beach. 

And he definitely knew there’d be no one available. 

All of it made Taehyung feel deflated once he had placed his order and waited patiently by the store’s counter. He thought he was royally fucked, needed to forego social etiquette and just ask a damn stranger at this point. 

Sighing yet again, he mindlessly looked over to the side, catching a glimpse of the person ordering after him with a voice he suddenly recognized. Taehyung’s eyebrows immediately shot to the sky once he took a double-take, a near injustice to say he was only shocked. 

He was practically floored, had to rub his eyes a few times just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Surely he’d lost it after the gruesome shift he just pulled at work, because he was pondering how in God’s name was he seeing you of all people ordering. 

How the hell did you manage to look 100x prettier than you used to, Taehyung thought. It was no doubt you; your smile still charming as ever, your hair still elegantly soft, your eyes still naturally sparkling under every Christmas light in the store just like they always did. 

It was really you. 

The same you he knew all throughout high school though moved away after graduation, the same you who was brilliant at every subject though could never understand math, the same you who waltzed into school with that plaid winter coat anyone could recognize you for, the same you who always teased him about his love for pineapple on pizza because you could never comprehend the taste. 

The same you he once liked.   

It was actually you, bundled up in a gray winter coat and white scarf as you smiled a thank you to the barista, eventually making your way over to the counter Taehyung was situated at, settling next to him without having noticed. 

Taehyung thought you were an angel sent from heaven, a Godsend, his one and only true saviour once he studied you up close, concluding that you weren’t just some mirage but in fact his real-life friend from years ago who could possibly rescue him from this Christmas party fuck up. 

And so he didn’t waste a single, valuable moment, because you know what they say, ‘carpe diem’, oh captain my captain. 

“Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?”

Your surprised eyes snapped towards the oddly familiar low voice, eyebrows shooting up once you resgitered just who exactly said your name. You seemed to be in the same disbelief as Taehyung, himself utterly grateful you’d actually recognized him. 

“Oh my God, Kim Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Taehyung laughed shyly. “Damn, how long has it been? 5? 6 years?” 

“6 years, yeah.” You confirmed with a smile. “Since graduation.” 

“I can’t believe that was 6 years ago, seems just like yesterday.” Taehyung couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off his face remembering the chaotic party by the lake you all threw together, resulting in someone nearly drowning, Taehyung downing more alcohol than he ever had in his life, and you shamelessly shoving everyone into the water until you eventually capsized yourself. 

Taehyung had to collect himself to coherently speak sentences again, nearly feeling his neurons incessantly firing off in his brain. “But wow, when did you come back to town?” 

“3 months ago, I was transferred for work.” You informed casually, though your sweet smile was infectious. “Wow, I’m.. I can’t believe I ran into you here.” You were honestly still shocked, marveling at the fact you somehow bumped into Kim Taehyung, the Kim Taehyung from high school.  

The same Taehyung who teased you about being terrible at math, the same one who only ever brought strawberry jam sandwiches to school and God forbid someone ever took a bite. The same Taehyung who was the cute social butterfly everyone completely adored at school. 

The same Taehyung you once liked.   

“It doesn’t feel long indeed, but you look.. different.” You did a light scan of him, noticing just how how much taller, more handsome and manlier he appeared. It was reflected in the edge of his jawline, crisp face structure and broader upper body. 

Quite frankly, he looked incredibly striking, almost intimidatingly so, and you could only think about when Taehyung used to appear a little scrawnier, lankier though still attractive all the same with his adorable eyes and plushy lips. 

It was nearly daunting to see the gorgeous difference now. 

“You look different too.. good different.” He added with a smile as he looked you over, and it was pleasant to see he still had that same boxy smile, the same little creases at the corner of his eyes. Though instead now, his smile looked devilishly handsome, and it was hard to not trip over your own feet about it. 

“You too. You’re so much taller now.” You commented, craning your neck just to converse with him. 

“And you’re still short, huh?” 

Your mouth flew open, scandalized at the comment though laughed when he chuckled at your expression. “Oh c’mon, you’re still gonna tease me about how short I am? It’s been six years, Taehyung.” 

“Hey, don’t think it’s not payback for all those times you lectured me about how ‘inhuman’ liking pineapple on pizza was. I still have your PowerPoint presentations saved.” Taehyung retorted through a laugh, remembering the way you’d really take the time to conjure up presentations just so he could be  unconvinced of the preference. 

“Okay, okay. You got me. Is there ever a way I could make it up to you... Assistant Curator Kim?” You read the lanyard that hung around his neck, inspecting it to see his ID photo along with his job title. 

“Ah,” Taehyung exclaimed, scrambling for the lanyard. “I was in a rush to get out of work so I left it on by accident.” Taehyung explained a little embarrassed, unhooking it from around his neck. 

“Why were you in a rush?” You knitted your eyebrows together, only asking out of innocent curiosity, though Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree, knowing this was his golden opportunity and he was definitely going to take his chance. 

“Uh.. do you still remember Park Jimin and the rest of our friends?” Taehyung started. 

“Oh my God, of course I do! You’re all still friends?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. I mean, even when we get tired of each other we know nobody else will put up with us, so we’re still close.” Taehyung snickered, remembering him and his friends were still the same 7 dorks from high school. 

“Awh, I wish I could see them, we used to have so much fun together.” You pouted, shoving your hands into your pockets as you recalled amusing memories from years ago; stupid adventures to the lake by your school, chasing the sunset, knowing you probably incessantly bothered the owner of that one gas station you always visited. 

“Actually, the reason why I was rushing was because Jimin holds an annual Christmas Eve party, and this time around he made it a ‘bring-a-date’ memo, and I kinda got too busy to remember.” Taehyung began scratching the back of his neck, a little shy considering he didn’t really listen to Jimin when he should’ve. 

“Ohh.” You nodded understandingly. “So you forgot to get a date?” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung confirmed, nodding with some disappointment in himself. “But say, you mentioned a favour, right?” Taehyung eyed you knowingly, hand never leaving his neck as he forced himself to get the question out. “Are you doing anything on Christmas Eve?” 

You were a little taken aback, thinking you knew exactly where he was going with this, and also thinking it was a damn Christmas miracle. You remembered your unfortunate situation for Christmas Eve; your parents having booked a cottage for themselves considering you’d be working that day, though gladly enough your boss decided it was the most wonderful time of the year, so why the fuck would he keep people hostage at work? 

It landed you with quite literally nothing to do on the joyous day, and excitement began to fill your chest already about your answer, though you composed yourself to appear normal. 

“No, actually. My parents are at a cottage together, so I was going to be home.” 

Taehyung could’ve been on cloud nine right about now, thanking God or whatever supreme being for answering his prayers. You’d literally checked off his every requirement perfectly, and now all that was left was...

“Would you like come to Jimin’s party as my date? I know it’s only in 2 days and it’s really sudden, but I’m kinda stuck right now and I promised Jimin I would come after finding someone, he’ll probably kick my ass if I don’t-” 

“I’d love to come.” You broke out into a grin at his adorable rambling, nearly giddy your assumption from before was exactly correct.

“Wait, seriously? You mean that?” Taehyung asked in wonderment. 

“Why would I lie to you, Taehyung?” You chuckled at the endearing way his face was lighting up, trying to ensure he couldn’t see the stars in your eyes as you looked at him.  

“Oh my God, you actually just.. saved my life.” Taehyung reveled, expression of utter gratitude. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s all I can do after making you sit through 10 minutes of me berating you for liking fruit on pizza. It’s still weird, by the way.” 

“Hey, don’t make me take your drink and ask you to jump for it.” Taehyung chastised, biting back a smile at the fact that you two still bickered like old times. 

“Fair point, so in two days, huh?” 

“Mhm. Can I get your number, actually? I’ll send you the details tonight.” Taehyung began digging for his phone in his pocket. 

“Oh, yeah of course.” You agreed as you went for yours. You both huddled a little closer to exchange the digits, trading phones and adding your names into each other’s contacts. It dawned a slight fuzzy feeling in your chest, getting a whiff of Taehyung’s masculine cologne and realizing in this proximity, just how incredibly ravishing Taehyung had in fact grown up, how much larger and broader he was in comparison to you. 

That he was a man now, not the quirky little dork you once knew, and that thought alone caused something to momentarily alight inside you. 

He was a man now. 

“Remember when we only had iPods and had to talk through our land lines?” Taehyung took a trip down memory lane and grounded you back to Earth, returning your phone to you. 

“Ah yes, when technology was just expanding and us 90′s kids were always caught in the weird middle.” You reminisced as he chuckled, recalling the older days. 

You were just finishing typing in your name for your contact, nearly clicking save until you decided to add the little bow emoji next to your name, handing Taehyung’s phone back to him. 

“A bow?” Taehyung inquired, finding it cute. 

“I deserve it, I’m your little Christmas present under your tree, aren’t I?” You flashed him a cute flower pose with a kittenish grin, the barista calling out Taehyung’s order just after. 

Taehyung could only smile widely, endeared you still had that same playful charm. “Yeah, you are.” He made for his drink and nabbed it, fixing his phone back into this pocket before addressing you. “I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you in 2 days, okay? It was seriously great meeting you again. Y/N.” 

“You too, I’ll see you then!” You chimed with a wave as Taehyung began stepping away, almost turning from him until he suddenly called out to you one last time, just about through the door.  

“Thank you again, Y/N, I owe you, my Christmas present!” He shouted his last words through a stupid smile, you returning the same one as a welcome before Taehyung exited the shop. 

And you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking out into the goofiest grin then, cheeks hotter than you remembered. You were glad Taehyung was still the same charismatic, easily lovable person from high school, the same charm and adorable impishness about him. 

Only now, he was all grown up and matured, no longer the slightly awkward, though heartfelt kid who liked stealing your history notes. And you became a little afraid feeling the same flutter in your heart from 6 years ago, curious if it was just a momentary lapse upon seeing him again, or signaling the ignition of an old flame it took you years to forget. 

Taehyung : remember to bring your competitive side today ;)

You : omg, what did jimin plan? 

Taehyung : you’ll have to wait and see 

Taehyung : jimin’s a creative one, remember? 

You : how could i forget? i’m never forgiving him for making me spend 3 hours writing calligraphy for that anthro project 😭

Taehyung : man, the guys are gonna love seeing you again

Taehyung : be there in 5! 

You : gotchu! 

You hated that you smiled so stupidly at your screen, never having forgotten the fluttery feeling Taehyung always managed to manifest in your stomach.

You clicked your phone screen off and checked over your outfit for the umpteenth time, wanting to look good not only for Taehyung (though that was the primary reason) but also for the rest of the crew. It’d seriously been too long since you last saw each other, having always been up to dumb shenanigans in high school though sadly parting ways after graduation. 

It was only inevitable with everyone’s future plans being so dissimilar, you having gone down the road of law and miraculously scoring a scholarship to a prestigious university a few towns over, spelling your departure from your beloved childhood city and therefore, goodbye to everyone you knew. 

You were glad the boys managed to remain so closely-knitted despite their different paths; Taehyung having clearly acquired a job at a museum considering his love for art. Last time you remembered, Jimin was an aspiring dancer, Hoseok was a natural at hospitality, Seokjin always rambled on about acting, Jungkook was gifted with a camera, Namjoon adored books and Yoongi wouldn’t trade music for the world. 

It was bittersweet recalling such memories, having to leave behind everything you knew to pursue your own dream. Bitter, though sweet knowing you had larger than life opportunities awaiting you. It was precisely what landed you your current job, working comfortably at a high-status law firm albeit stealing very much of your time. 

It was perfect, nonetheless, since the main office was located back home and you had just been transferred 3 months ago, finding your way back 6 years later. You didn’t know if the boys were still in town, had no real clue where their lives went with only stray social media posts indicating they were still alive and healthy. 

So running into Taehyung all of a sudden? It made you more than glad, remembering not only your fun times together as a group, but your comfortable friendship with him, and the undeniable feelings you’d developed overtime. 

Suffice to say, you both were quirky yet cute, and you made perfect sense. Not only did it land you two a supportive relationship full of laughs and teasing, but also numerous instances where someone’s actions or behaviour became suggestive, questioned the borders of actual friendship between you though nobody willing to take the leap, and it left all your friends inquiring exactly when you two would start dating. 

Though that was the sad part, you never did. And the reason why? You have no real clue. It simply never dawned on you to express your feelings towards Taehyung in fear of him not feeling the same, thinking your crush was just a phase and you’d eventually view him as a friend again, a process of denial you repeated for the 4 grueling years of high school.

Though the second you realized you’d have to say goodbye so soon, with the possibility you’d never see him again, you realized Taehyung was the one boy you truly loved, and sometimes questioned if you still did. 

It hurt to have to hug him one last time before you disconnected, remembering the way you cried having to part from everyone, and Taehyung held you against him until your eyes dried, waving an innocent goodbye before you rounded the corner of your street and disappeared forever. 

To this day you haven’t got a clue if Taehyung ever felt the same, always chalking up his little lingering touches, hugs and double entendres to his naturally flirtatious and outgoing nature. It hindered your ability to say anything, thinking over the years maybe your non-confessional departure was an enormous mistake. 

So when you heard the doorbell of your apartment ring, in the five minutes Taehyung promised, your heart couldn't help but leap at the thought you’d see him again, meet all your old friends and spend an entire festive, fun-filled night with them. 

You made for the door without a second thought and pulled it ajar, meeting Taehyung’s somehow more stunning self all ready to go. He’d decided today to dress with a tan plaid coat, black turtle neck poking out from underneath paired with black slacks to match; and you realized Taehyung definitely invented the all-black look. 

Sources? You. 

You almost gawked, his hair set to reveal some forehead though curl just before his eyebrows, and it was evilly handsome. He was evilly handsome. 

You remembered he was standing right in front of you, thinking a good moment has passed since you uttered anything, a warm smile as you addressed him. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” He greeted back, scanning over you, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered for a second on your legs. You’d gone for your same gray coat, though surprisingly with an all black outfit underneath as well, cute wrap around dress with a v line dipping just generously enough, all paired with pantyhose. 

Who cares about a little cold when you want to look cute anyway, right? 

“We’re matching, it’s cute.” He complimented, his smile just a little impish as it met your chest momentarily though flashed back up to you. 

“I guess you’re cute too.” You shrugged, nearly hiding your face under his scrutiny. 

“We should get going, m’lady. Jimin’ll chew my head off if I’m late too.” Taehyung feigned a sophisticated tone, turning aside and holding out his arm for you to loop like a gentleman. 

You chuckled just a little and clutched your side bag, hooking onto his arm as you switched the lights of your apartment off and shut the door behind you. 

“Now would the kind sir tell me what we’re doing today?” You inquired as Taehyung began walking you down the hallway, peering at his God-like side profile. “You’ve been so mysterious about it.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Now what’s the point of a surprise if I tell you?” 

“But why is it a surprise? Don’t tell me it’s something ridiculous like rock climbing.” You playfully scolded, trying to keep up with his long strides as he led you towards the elevator. 

“Maybe it’s just to see the way your face will light up when you find out.” Taehyung suggested with narrowed eyes as he looked down at you, you staring back at him in scrutiny until you both snickered. 

And as you entered the elevator arm in arm with him, maybe you felt that same skip of your heartbeat from years ago. 

“Holy shit, Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you?” Jimin’s face was utterly surprised, his warm, puppy eyes you remember too well wide as he held the door open.

“Of course it is, Park Jimin!” You cheered as you held your arms out for a hug, his gentle arm wrapping around your torso as he beamed.

“The guys are not gonna believe this, I gotta tell em’. Come in, come in!” Jimin ushered you and Taehyung inside, redirecting his attention to the beautiful, open space condo he called his humble abode. “Guys! Come to the front, look who’s here!”

You and Taehyung were propping your boots off when people eventually came piling into the front foyer and responding to Jimin absentmindedly. All were similarly unsuspecting their eyes widened when landing on you, sounding the next slew of hilarious commentary you’d missed too damn much. 

“No way, is that Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Y/N?”

“Y/N, we thought you left town, when did you come back?”

“Taehyung, how the hell did you find her?”

“Even better, how the fuck did he get her to come as his date?” It was Jungkook who made the quip that elicited everyone’s snickering, yourself simply overwhelmed by the amount of memories that came back just by the sound of their quite manlier now, though familiar voices.

They all still had the same charming features, each of them reminiscent of their teenaged selves, but the difference? Now they were polished into captivatingly good-looking men you were baffled to even know at this point. 

“Oh my God, it’s been 6 years, just let me hug you guys!” You excitedly gestured for them to come to you, friendly smiles all around as you embraced and reunited. 

“Jungkook, why wouldn’t she agree? You trying to say something?” Taehyung didn’t let the earlier insult go, eyebrows quirked as he retorted.

“Dude, Y/N has always been out of your league.” Yoongi added.

“And honestly, now she’s even more out of your league.” Seokjin joined the teasing and it erupted another bout of cackling from the group, you only left to shyly scrunch your nose and giggle.

“Okay, okay, let’s move from standing here, yeah? There’s a party and 6 years worth of catching up to do!” Jimin chimed, chastising everyone huddled by the corridor and allowing you and Taehyung to settle into the home.

Jimin was still the meticulous perfectionist you knew back then, his home adorably charmed with Christmas decorations that made his place feel incredibly warm. His pretty Christmas tree in the corner with some gifts wrapped underneath, his fireplace adorned with pretty stockings, even the small trinkets scattered around were reminding your sadly adult-self that it was indeed Christmas, and it’s meant to be jolly. 

It automatically created an atmosphere of festivity, and catching sight of the dates each friend brought moving about, it only felt more like the holidays with 14 people occupying the home. 

You were marveling with a wide smile at the scene before you, everyone moving back into the house to resume what they were previously doing until you suddenly felt someone’s hands hook onto the neck collar of your jacket from behind. You whirled around in an instant with seeking eyes, viewing the culprit was none other than the only owner of the largest, most slender hands you still found incredibly attractive.

Goddamn you.

“Sorry, I’ll just take your jacket for you.” Taehyung realized he may have startled you. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed, hurriedly shredding off the layer not having noticed you were still wearing it. “I could put it away myself though, give me yours.”

You reached for Taehyung’s jacket in his hands, though he immediately jut the jacket further away from you in protest. “No, no. You’re my date, I’m taking it.”

“But Tae-”

“Hey, you’re my present, remember? You deserve it.” Taehyung mimicked you from your exchange at the coffee shop, you ultimately acquiescing as a result.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes playfully, though a laugh was pulling at you all the same. “What would you be, though?” You asked out of curiosity. “If I’m the present, what are you?” 

Taehyung toyed with your question in his thoughts until he chose the perfect answer, lips growing into a smirk as he drew closer to your face a little. “The one who gets to open it up.”

Something shot through you that was alarming, his cocked eyebrow indicative he was being suggestive, and you played it off with a scoff. “It’s not even Christmas morning yet, and I know you’re just the goodest little boy on Earth who’d wait until he can open his presents.” You clasped your hands together, condescendingly feigning innocence. 

“Or maybe you just never got to know, Y/N.” Taehyung then suddenly leaned down much closer to your face, inches from you as he looked into your eyes. “I haven’t always been a good boy.” 

Taehyung was boring something undistinguishable into you, though the double meaning of his words left apparent heat in the air between you. 

And here it fucking was again, those same double entendres Taehyung had always shot your way though you always took it as him simply fooling around, so you always joined in with your own jokes, assuming the same approach now.  

“Hmm, we’ll see about that, Good boy. Santa’s watching.” You countered as you patted his chest sarcastically, causing Taehyung to stand to his full height biting his lip. 

He stared at you for a moment before walking away, noticing how long his legs were and the unfair curve of his ass, and you suddenly gained a new feature of his to ogle at. He eventually disappeared and you breathed, temporarily forgetting you had a dumb habit of holding your breath whenever he was so close; his piney with a hint of ocean breeze cologne having been left behind, and hitting you like a truck just as much as his all black outfit did. 

God fucking dammit. 

You decided to ignore your intrusive thoughts and waltz into the party instead, grabbing yourself a drink and eventually making your way towards some of the boys’ pretty dates. It was refreshing to feel the presence of women, thanking the Heavens they were all relatively sweet and amicable. 

Conversation always came easy to you, what with being a lawyer who has to be a master with words anyway, so it wasn’t difficult to not only befriend some of the girls, but also reconnect with the boys merrily, Taehyung by your side. 

“Y/N, how dare you not contact any of us about coming back?” Hoseok asked, a little upset timbre in his tone. 

“Yeah, I’m actually a little hurt you ended up coming with Tae of all people. After all the books I shared with you?” Namjoon feigned disappointment, a hand to his heart in near heartbreak. 

“Dude, what’s wrong with her coming with me? Not my fault you gave her boring ass books.” Taehyung defended.

“Tae, you’d steal her history notes for fuck’s sake.” Namjoon countered with narrowed eyes. 

“Guys, it’s been years. I just thought it’d been too long, so I didn’t say anything.” You stopped them, sadly remembering the way communication dwindled out the more you all progressed in your life. 

“Look, you’re always welcomed, Y/N. You think I’d forget the girl who pulled an all-nighter just to edit my shitty final essay for English? I told you I’d write your name on my damn tombstone when I got an 80.” Seokjin laughed with a glass of eggnog, though supportive in his remark and it made you reminisce. 

“I have no clue to this day how you passed English on just Sparknotes. Jungkook hated English more than you and he still managed to actually read 1984.” You chastised him like old times, though now it was a memory that brought a smile to your face. 

“Look, I wasn’t interested in knowing the asshole motives of Big Brother and the 3-minute hate speech.” Seokjin defended himself. 

“2-minute, and it was still a good book.” 

“You’re telling me 60 pages of that dumb manifesto Winston found was good?” Taehyung perked up with crossed arms, quirking his eyebrows at you in incredulousness.  

“Oh c’mon, you learn the entire history of the Party and all their bullshit.” 

“And you’re still a nerd, I see.” Taehyung ticked his head to the side with his snarky remark. 

“Oh shut up, I got a better mark than you on the final essay anyway.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a nerd.” Taehyung countered. 

You gave a disapproving, scrutinizing look as you marched your way over to Jimin’s Christmas tree, comically gesturing to the Balsam Fir beside you. “I’m literally your Christmas present under the tree, Taehyung, you have to be nice to me.” You chastised him though it only made the boys looking on crack up. 

“Y/N, you’re still hilarious as fuck.” Hoseok was lighting up with laughter, his pretty giggles sounding in a way that honestly made you giggle in the end too, Taehyung only letting up because you were just so you, and it tugged at his heart strings.

“Speaking of Jungkook from earlier, where is he? I just remembered the math notes he owes me his life for.” You perked up, gauging his presence around in the condo. 

“He’s over there eating the chocolate chips, yah, Jungkook! Stop it!” Seokjin scolded from across the room where Jimin and Yoongi were bustling about in the kitchen, and you became confused hearing the mention of chocolate chips. 

“Chocolate chips? I mean, I’m not complaining, but that’s quite the eccentric choice for party food.” You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

“Oh, Taehyung didn’t tell you? It’s for the competition later.” Namjoon informed, though you only furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Competition?” 

“Yeah, baking competition. Jimin planned a couple’s one for his mistletoe theme. I’m beating all your asses, by the way. I’m a genius at decorating.” Hoseok folded his arms with a self-satisfied expression. 

“Please, my girlfriend and I hold weekly bake-offs, watch yourselves, losers.” Seokjin calmed everyone down with his own greatness, you simply becoming beyond excited. 

You turned to Taehyung in an instant, expression completely telling of wonder as you inquired with a high-pitched tone. “Tae, you didn’t tell me we were having a baking competition, that’s so cool!” You beamed, elatedly looking towards Jimin and Yoongi preparing ingredients.  

“Taehyung’s a cryptic one, remember?” Namjoon joked, trying to stifle a laugh with a hand over his mouth, and Taehyung immediately defended himself.

“Shut up, hyung.” He sounded offended, though the smile tugging at his lips indicated after years of friendship, he’d never actually grow vexed at his admirable friend. 

Taehyung then met your eyes, smile growing more apparent, warmer. “I told you it was to see the way your face would light up, didn’t I?” He tilted his head to the side then, eyes playfully studying you as he confirmed his observation. “Yup, your eyes totally still sparkle the same.” 

You couldn’t help but fill with another wave of fuzziness, feeling as though Taehyung always knew how to make your insides all giddy, and maybe even thinking what’s so wrong if your feelings really were coming back? 

You could only smile sheepishly at him, the rest of the boys knowingly watching the two of you like they have for years, everyone only falling out of the trance of the moment when Jimin’s voice called out from the kitchen.  

“Alright Martha Stewarts, who’s starting the ass-kicking?” 

“Hyung! That’s not fair, you can’t steal from us!” Jungkook scolded him as you watched the mania in front of you, Seokjin and his girlfriend Sa-Ha vs. Jungkook and his date Mira. It was becoming devastatingly hilarious, both teams only having 1 minute left until their cookies had to be plated in tip-top shape, all scrambling to create the best-looking ones. 

“I can and I will, you stole from us first!” Seokjin rebutted him, Jimin raising his voice to signal how much left time was. 

“30 seconds you guys, make it count!” And it was another catastrophic seconds until the timer went off, both teams exhausted and complaining all the same about their hard time fueled by Jin and Jungkook’s endless bickering. 

It was laughs for the few of you looking on, waiting your turns until Jimin’s date Song-i chose from the hat of pairings, your eyes going wide once she called out your name with Taehyung’s against Hoseok and his date. 

“Oh my God, Tae, that’s us!” You grabbed his arm alarmed, seeming nervous and it caused him to look at you. 

“Why are you so nervous? We’ll do great.” 

You scoffed at him in protest. “Taehyung, you did horrible in home ec, we’re gonna lose!” 

“Hey, I’ll make you jump for the ingredients, have some faith, will you?” Taehyung retorted, grabbing you by your hand and dragging you over to one of the two counters Jimin’s grand condo had to offer. 

“We’re taking you guys down on decorations, I’m a genius.” Hoseok gloated from his counter, tying his apron as he eyed you. 

“I have a curator on my team, Hobi, we’re beating you.” You scrutinized him with an angry pout as he stuck his tongue out, you whirling back around to adjust your apron. 

“Okay everyone, aprons on?” Jimin inquired, you having put on yours though watching Taehyung struggle with figuring out the apparently rocket-science contraption. 

You sighed with a laugh until you grabbed it from his hands, helping him out. “It’s like this, Tae.” You got on your tippy-toes to situate the apron around his neck as he bent down for you, the contrast of your heights always having made Taehyung a little weak. 

He was only left to watch you as you fixed the apron onto him, finding himself not even watching anymore, but straight up gazing, admiring. 

Admiring the way your eyes were always in a state of perpetual sparkle, your small lips he never forgot the amount of times he contemplated kissing, your dress revealing your collarbones and chest that beckoned for him to just tear it off, all weakening him even more so.

What made him even weaker, however, was noting the way you’ve matured into a woman after 6 years. 

A very beautiful, attractive woman. 

Your body had always been art to him, but now you were polished into a masterpiece he desired to adore, run his hands all over. Your face structure was more evened out, hair set to fall elegantly upon your shoulders and neck so utterly inviting it all added a sense of sexy maturity to you. 

It was distracting, Taehyung venturing off on the thought you were a woman now, not the innocent, sweet nerd he once knew, and it constantly began to rack his brain when he felt something course through his veins about it. 

Because you used to be so painfully innocent, so naturally a girl next door he couldn’t help but want to taint sometimes, to ruin and unravel for his own. He could even feel it with every time your smaller hands touched his body as you worked the apron guilelessly, wanting to snatch up your wrists instead and do unspeakable things, especially with that fucking dress on his mind. 

What made it all worse is that Taehyung could tell you only acted guileless, and never actually were. You also made your own suggestive comments, always caught his drift and he could tell you weren’t the innocent little thing you appeared to be. 

 Taehyung was so completely lost he heard you suddenly calling his name. 

“Taehyung, are you listening?” 

He blinked. “Huh?” 

“You have to listen to what I say, okay? Just follow my instructions and we’ll win against them.” You made little fists in the air to encourage him, Taehyung mimicking the action. 

“Y-yeah. I will, let’s do this.” You turned around after smiling sweetly, fixing some of the utensils on the counter and completely unsuspecting of Taehyung’s thoughts. 

That even after 6 years apart, after thinking he’d successfully forgotten about you, there was still something that pulled at his heart every time he saw you smile, every time you were ever near him. 

And he came to the conclusion maybe his feelings really haven’t changed from 6 years ago. 

“Taehyung, can you pass me the butter, please?” You asked urgently, whisking away at your bowl of almost-there cookie dough with Taehyung hovering around you as he watched. 

“Got it.” He returned with some of the butter, you struggling to scoop some of it until Taehyung reached out for the block. “Here, let me do it and you whisk.” 

“No, you’ll end up putting in too much. Let me do it.” You nudged him with your elbow, picking at the butter. 

“But you’re already whisking, just let me take it out.” Taehyung protested as he reached, though you blocked him right away.  

“No, Tae, remember we decided I’m on baking and you’re on decorating?” 

“Your job is way harder than mine and I’m useless right now, let me at least whisk.” Taehyung grabbed for the bowl until you snatched it away from him, already done with scooping the butter when the action caused some of the flour to fly up on your dress, gasping scandalously. 

“Taehyung!” You whined, Taehyung scrambling for a quick apology. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Taehyung almost completed until a splash of flour went hurtling onto his shirt, causing him to look down with his mouth agape. “You did not just throw flour on my black turtleneck.” 

“You got flour on my black dress first, you tree.” Your eyebrows were set hard as you scolded him, still loosely whisking away at the cookie dough. 

“It was by accident, you half-pint.” Taehyung rebutted, trying to bat the flour off himself.

“Then mine was an accident too.” You mocked him, unsuspectingly whisking again when flour suddenly hit your chest, offended to find Taehyung snickering with it all over his hand. 

“That was an accident, too.” 

“You’re so...” You huffed out as you placed the bowl down and grabbed your own handful of flour, just about to throw it on Taehyung when is large palms came up to snatch your wrists, forcing your arms back as he snickered. 

“Taehyung, this is unfair!” You complained, struggling against his hold. 

“It’s an accident.” Taehyung mimicked with a genuine laugh watching you scramble in his hold, until the smile wiped off his face shortly after when you simply released the flour from your palm and it spilled all over his turtleneck. 

Your cheeks puffed up trying to contain your laughter, Jimin’s own giggling fit sounding and you remembered he was monitoring the competition. “Taehyung, you dumbass, you had that shit coming.” He held his stomach, entire body laughing at his best friend. 

You were giggling along with Jimin until Taehyung had had enough, licking his lips with mischief. 

“That’s it, come here.” He then spun you around and engulfed you with his arms from behind, holding you snug to his chest as you tried to escape him alarmingly, knowing what Taehyung was going to do next. 

“Taehyung please, wait, I beg of you, don’t!” And it was already too late when you felt his long fingers begin to tickle at your sides, your incessant protests melding with giggles along with his beautiful laughter filling the kitchen. 

You continued to fight against his hold, the constant feather-like touches making you reel and breath leave your lungs. “Taehyung, stop! Oh my God,” you struggled through a laugh while he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I’ll die, Taehyung, please!” 

“Nope, this is what you get.” Taehyung continued his onslaught as he held you tighter, you beginning to acquiesce in order to reason with him.  

“Okay, okay, look. We’re running out of time!” You tried controlling your laughter, tears pricking at your eyes as you tried to calm down. “We have to beat Hobi and Ah-yeong or else we’ll lose!” 

His amused voice sounded near your ear, still reprimanding you. “I’ll only stop if you say sorry.” 

“Alright, I’m sorry!” You were grabbing at his wrists for release. “I didn’t mean it, just stop tickling me!” You protested with a giggle until you felt his fingers rest, rather exchanging it for simply encasing you. 

“Good girl, you’re getting on Santa’s nice list.” Taehyung joked. 

You could only sigh as you resupplied oxygen to your lungs, moving towards the bowl. “Okay, let’s get back to work before we lose.” You puffed out air, breaths levelling as you returned to the counter and grabbed the whisk and bowl, only to find Taehyung hadn’t retracted his arms yet. 

He instead remained behind you, reaching for the utensils in your hands, his large ones grasping them along with you and the contrast of his broad body enclosing your smaller one made you feel something in your core.

Your eyes widened in surprised when his head unexpectedly found your shoulder, resting his chin there as he peered down at the bowl before you, you sputtering. “Taehyung, w-what are you doing?”

“Helping you, is there a problem?” The deep cadence of his voice was just by your ear, dangerous for your health. 

“N-no. But it’s okay, I’m fine on my own-” 

“Nope, this is the least I can do for you..” Taehyung’s tone seemed to trail off suddenly, having calmed down from his laughter and you found him speaking in earnest. “You’re my Christmas present I dragged all the way here with me, remember?” 

You could only smile sympathetically as you looked to your side, eyes welcomed by his gorgeous side profile on full display just centimeters from you. It made you realize just how close he was, his warmth engulfing you and it caused little sparks to fly inside your chest.  

“It’s not so bad, Taehyung. You’re just a good boy who needed his little Christmas present.” You teased light-heartedly, proud of your remark until Taehyung suddenly turned towards your ear, ghosting the shell of it with an unexpectedly darker tone, low and down right gruff.

“I’m not always a good boy.” He stated it simply, though the hot baritone in his words oddly left your spine cold, freezing over even more when Taehyung then wrapped his arms entirely around your torso, pulling your back to his chest. He did it so tightly you could suddenly feel your ass pressed to his covered length, oddly contradicting how couple-like you two probably appeared and it was goddamn intoxicating. 

You panicked at first but eventually basked in his hold, mustering the courage to speak with a suggestive tone. “I’m not always a good girl, either.” 

You threw it out there, cheeks slightly heating adding your own double entendre, though the way Taehyung suddenly tensed for a second had you feeling more confident, the puff of air he sucked in apparent. 

The conversation only ended with a satisfied hum from Taehyung as he watched you bake, a nice rumble that reverberated from his chest and into your back, feeling an odd arousal spike all the way down to your toes. 

It was already lethal with his pretty hands holding around your waist, the closeness an added thrill. It made your chest fill with something riveting, almost anticipatory of what all of this meant between you two, excited for wherever this night would truly go. 

It wasn’t long before it came time for Taehyung to plate and decorate the cookies, carefully placing his little embellishments he swore were the cream of the crop as you bickered with him, your incessant teasing resulting in you hugging him from behind while he worked. 

And Taehyung knew he was doomed the second he felt your very obvious chest press into his back, his nerves pumping carnally as he then felt a side of him he’s always hid from you escape its reigns. 

It was damn transparent Seokjin and his girlfriend would win, their exquisite baking and cooking skills having created masterpieces everyone dug into happily. It’d won them the choice of what movie everyone would watch tonight along with a dinner that the losers, surprisingly not you and Taehyung, but Namjoon and his date would have to pay for. 

Everyone was now seeking comfortable positions for the movie around the TV while you were last minute cleaning with Jimin in the kitchen, offering your help after the mess you and Taehyung made with your little flour mishap. 

Taehyung had properly gotten rid of the flour on his sweater, now lounging on an armchair in the living room with his phone in hand. You felt yourself glancing towards him more than you should’ve, reprimanding yourself each time though found yourself doing it nonetheless. 

It was just hard to keep your eyes off him when Taehyung was the epitome of a Greek God, questioning how such a being is allowed to walk among us commoners. His chiseled jawline was far too handsome for his own good, his neck sculpted so perfectly it left you you wondering what it would feel like to mark him up all over, and the way his long legs were manspreading before him was so inviting the sight alone made you figuratively drool. 

And fall even harder. 

You didn’t realize you were ogling until Jimin’s hushed voice pulled you out of your reverie. “You’re staring.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Jimin chuckled as he continued to wipe the counter one last time. “It’s been 6 years, why don’t you just say something?” 

“There’s nothing to say, Jimin.” You tried brushing him off, though Jimin didn’t buy it. 

“My ass, Y/N. You really think after what happened in the kitchen there’s nothing between you two?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just how Taehyung is.” You concocted an excuse, deflating as you did so.  

Jimin shook his head in disapproval. “It’s been like this since high school, Y/N, why didn’t you just tell Taehyung how you felt?” 

You looked at him in earnestly before softening into a sigh, knowing Jimin was really the only person you ever spilled your feelings for his best friend to. 

“Because I was scared, Jimin. You know how hard it was for me to even admit it to you.” You answered with a quiet voice, scrapping the flour you threw at Taehyung into the garbage. 

“But Y/N, you two... the way you are. What were you so afraid of?” Jimin’s sweet, pacifying voice asked, clearly having been rooting for you both ever since you fessed up. 

“Rejection, Mimi. Even if we’re like that...” You trailed, thinking over your relationship with Taehyung. “What if it’s all only a joke on his end? Taehyung has always been naturally flirty.. and we’re friends. I don’t think I’m any different than a conquest.” 

Jimin understood your point, though made it his own to advise you otherwise, washing out the cloth in the sink. “Y/N, that’s only what you believe.” His eyes told you of genuine support, offering like the comfort fairy he’s always been. “Just because you believe something, doesn’t make it true.” 

And that damn well hit home for you, realizing that maybe you’ve really been in your head too much about this, overthinking by creating doubts and excuses in your head to subdue your fear of confessing to Taehyung, to avoid the hurt of rejection but possibly missing an entire opportunity. 

“You should tell him, Y/N. It’s been long enough, you’ll never know how he feels if you don’t try.” 

You became apprehensive. “But how do you know if he’ll feel the same way?” Jimin could only chuckle to himself, his smile radiant as he found you the most innocent, yet funnily oblivious thing on Earth. 

“Look at the way he acts around you, Y/N.” Jimin advised. “He’s my best friend, and I’ve never seen him like that with anyone except you. Conquests are conquests, but you’re you, and that’s different to him.” 

Your mind instantly went into a frenzy, thinking well fuck, Jimin is Taehyung’s best friend, and he’s telling you that all this time Taehyung has never really enacted the same behaviour and energy with anyone expect you? This whole time? What does he mean you’re different? You’re.. different to him? Aren’t you just his female friend he’s known since ninth grade, and so surely there’s nothing but the added value of history there, right? 

Right?

You were only left to digest Jimin’s words as you placed the dustpan back to its original spot, Jimin finishing up with the sink. The conversation ended there, Jimin guiding you back to the living room and nestling himself next to his date. You were distracted with Jimin’s suggestions until you walked into the space and realized there was nowhere for you to sit, the couples perfectly paired up and occupying all the available space. 

Your entrance is what made Taehyung snap his vision to you from his phone, watching your confused face contemplating where to sit until he whispered to you, motioning towards himself on the armchair furthest from the screen and tucked behind the other couches. “Y/N, come here.” 

You studied his placement, on a singular armchair with his lap very much open. You shivered at the sight, though protested in a hushed tone realizing the chair could really only fit him. “There’s nowhere for me to sit.” 

Taehyung then spread his legs a little further apart and tapped his thigh, revealing some space for you to sit.. on him. “You can sit here.” 

You were glad the lights were turned off, just so Taehyung didn’t have to see the blush that rose to your cheeks when you answered. “Um, o-okay.” 

You then ambled over to him in front of the rather comfy looking armchair, thanking God everyone was too distracted bickering over Seokjin’s movie choice to pay attention to you both. 

“Are you.. sure about this?” You managed to get out, mind going feral over the fact that one of your previous thoughts was actually manifesting itself, nearly chickening out. 

“Mhm, just sit on me.” Taehyung offered casually, his expression unreadable and ultimately making you doubt Jimin’s advice from before, realizing that Taehyung has always been a hard person to read, which is why you could never tell how he felt about you, shutting your trap about damn love confessions. 

You didn’t respond and rather tentatively made it to the take your seat, the seat that was Taehyung’s fucking lap. You placed your ass on his thigh with your legs thrown over him, angling yourself so that the temple of your head rested against his shoulder. 

Though it proved to be lethal in seconds, his cologne now completely flooding your nostrils and the thin skirt of your dress leaving much of your clothed core feeling the muscle of his thigh. 

You felt Taehyung tense underneath for a second as you adjusted the skirt of your dress over your own thighs, smoothing it over properly as your hands then clasped in your own lap. 

Taehyung was glad you didn’t have the ability to read his mind, because the second he realized everyone was naturally pairing up to cuddle with their dates, it would only mean you two would have to do the same. So when you paddled over, standing before him in that cute dress he’s been wanting to tear off you this entire party, he was more than thrilled to offer his lap as your seat. 

But when you actually sat on him, your ass and hints of your core against his thigh with your tempting legs draped over him, he was continuously beginning to think dangerously, salaciously. 

He tried to keep his breathing leveled, though the second he felt you adjust against him and your covered center press onto him, he knew he would never survive whatever fucking movie everyone eventually settled on. 

When it finally began to play, Taehyung snaked his arms around your waist and held you to him, feeling your breath hitch for the tiniest second before you relaxed. 

And it damn well thrilled him. 

The movie was beginning to progress now, Taehyung and yourself in the same comfortable position until you yawned and snuggled more into him, a hand coming up to drape across his chest and head finding shelter closer into his neck. 

Taehyung tensed again, feeling every breath you took with the weight of your smaller body on top of him, mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. 

And especially when you shifted your ass a little against his leg, he twitched with something so much more carnal, blood pumping somewhere it shouldn’t and this time, Taehyung didn’t really feel like holding back anymore. 

His hands suddenly faltered, his palms coming to singularly rest against one of your thighs, clasping it slightly. He knew there was nothing but your leg with only pantyhose as a barrier for your skin, sending currents through his veins thinking you could definitely feel his every touch. 

You nearly jolted when Taehyung’s hands met the meat of your thigh, the placement shooting more arousal through you than it should’ve. 

You were calm until Taehyung suddenly inched his hand towards the inner part of your thigh, making your core clench and hand clutch his sweater to contain the electricity it sent. 

You’ve always had such dirty thoughts about what Taehyung’s hands could do, the slenderness and length of his fingers always revving your imagination. So to have his fingers just on the inside of your thigh, sitting in his lap as he seemed to be teasing, was enough to send your brain spiraling. 

Your scandalous thoughts made you shift against him to experimentally feel the friction, your core grinding against his thigh for a moment and Taehyung’s breath immediately hitched. His grip on you tightened and his hold tensed, had you suppressing the feeling of making a sound. 

He slid more inward, closer to the prize he was seeking and you could only hide your face into the junction of his neck at the way your pussy felt butterflies. It made you squish your thighs together to feel something, and God fuck, was the tension between you two so searing you could feel it radiating off Taehyung’s body. 

It’s what made whispering slowly against him flow easily, quiet so as not to alarm anyone in the living room. 

“I thought you were a good boy, Tae. What are you doing?” Your voice was sultrier than you planned, and it wasn’t chastising him at all, rather teasing for something more. 

You could only feel the rise and fall of Taehyung’s chest underneath you as he contained himself, the cuddling leaving you to feel his every micro-movement when he responded. 

“I thought you were a good girl, what are you doing?” Taehyung’s voice was low and deep, the vibration coursing through your body and it only invited you to become hornier. 

“Guess I’m not a good girl after all.” 

Taehyung made a sound as though scoffing, dangerous in its tone. 

“Guess I’m not a good boy, either.” And just after, Taehyung inched his fingers even closer to your clothed core, making the slightest of contact on your slit through the material of your dress and you practically twitched in his hold, sucking in a breath as you clasped onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“You have no idea..” Taehyung suddenly spoke up, voice laden with something hungry, hot. “what I’ve always thought about doing to you.” 

You could only jolt in his lap, more of his cologne meeting your nose and it caused you to suppress a sound by stuffing your face into his neck. “What.. have you thought about?” 

Taehyung then suddenly cupped your sex over your clothes, making you grapple onto his neck and bite back a moan so hard you had to breathe through your nose. 

“How I want to ruin you.” Taehyung’s low baritone and rough palm rubbing teasingly against your now aching pussy left you gushing, arousal racking the bottom of your stomach you were almost afraid of how easy it was for him. 

Your breath was shallower now, trying to compose yourself by egging him on. “You’d want to ruin an innocent girl like me?”

“I know you’re not innocent, princess.” Taehyung asserted with the slightest growl to his tone, thankful your seat was positioned behind the rest of the others so nobody could see what was going on. 

“Only when it comes to you.” Your seductive voice beckoned lust to course through Taehyung, breathing out hot air. “What else?” You suddenly croaked out. 

Taehyung hummed lowly into your ear, his palm smoothing over your cunt in ways that had you screwing your eyes shut. “How I want to make you beg.” He purposefully pressed harder against your clit, had you scratching into the column of his throat. “Make you scream my name.”   

You gushed your arousal even more, breathless with your words. “I bet you say that to everyone.”

Taehyung chuckled dismissively, dipping his head lower to whisper darkly into your ear. 

“I only say that to pretty little things I want to ruin, and you’re the prettiest little thing I know.” 

Your breath came out in a weighty puff, sighing satisfyingly against him as you snaked your hand from his neck down to the hardening length in his pants. You grazed your palm over his clothes and he twitched almost violently, biting back his hiss with a strong grip against your thigh with his free hand. You grew proud, speaking up when it boosted your ego. 

“I’d love to see you try.” 

And that was when the pads of Taehyung’s fingers pressed into your clothed cunt so euphorically you were seconds from letting out a moan, Taehyung cupping his palm over your mouth to silence you. 

“Shh.” Taehyung sounded by your ear. “Can’t let everyone hear my girl, now can I?” He hushed you huskily, leaving you to sigh your arousal into his large palm and eternally grateful the movie’s volume was loud enough to mask your talking.

Taehyung then began the slowest circular ministrations on your clit, shooting continuous pleasure through your body as you clutched your hand onto his wrist holding your mouth, urgently trying to suppress moans he was easily milking out of you. 

It felt like sparks, continuous sparks in your covered pussy as Taehyung rubbed against your folds, gliding down to your slit and teasing your throbbing hole. 

The mere prospect of his fingers shoving inside you made you wet beyond comprehension, only digging little crescents into his forearm with muted moans. It was sickening how easily he had you turned on, how easily you were getting riled up by just his fingers, and so you mustered the strength to lightly stroke his cock over his pants as revenge.

Taehyung then put pressure against your clenching hole as punishment, shoving your face into his neck when he teased your entrance and squishing his hand between your thighs with his other urging them open. 

“Look at you,” Taehyung growled. “all fucked out just by my fingers.” He whispered darkly into your ear, the vibration of his baritone voice once again sending you into overdrive. “They’re not even inside you yet.” 

The ‘yet’ had you restless, body grinding against him and this time it was Taehyung trying suppress a satisfied groan. 

“If my fingers have you like this, imagine my-” 

“Oh c’mon! That’s not even realistic!” Seokjin suddenly shouted at the screen, startling you and Taehyung. 

“Jin, calm down. It’s just a feel-good Christmas movie.” Yoongi cautioned him. 

“How the fuck does the kid just free the burglar from the cop car? It’s damn common sense.” Seokjin complained about the scene from Christmas with the Kranks, having been unsatisfied with the movie since the beginning. 

“Baby, why’d you choose this movie?” He whined to his girlfriend Sa-Ha, her feigning innocence as she defended herself. 

“It’s almost over, Jinnie. Just sitand watch.” 

And that’s when Taehyung ripped his hands off you, leaving you to breathe out ruggedly for a few seconds before your vision looked up at Taehyung’s, mutually shocked at what the fuck just happened.

You’ve never done something like that before, and as your scared sights looked back at each other, you could only think you were both under some sort of horney trance that swept you two into uncharted waters. 

It made you divert your eyes from Taehyung immediately, your mind going blank. 

Taehyung was left hard and extremely turned on, though began dissipating once he couldn’t fathom he went that far with you so quickly, his brain having been clouded by lust he should’ve kept in check.

And with the way you looked at him, panicked and snapping your vision away in an instant, he doesn’t know if he just made a grave mistake. 

You both became shameful, swallowing dryly as your attentions fixated back onto the screen, thinking about what just transpired. 

There was this incessant feeling in both your chests contemplating there was something more, clearly more between you two. 

And it was downright fearful. 

“Yah, why are you guys leaving so early? C’mon! There’s still half the eggnog left.” Seokjin pouted from across the room, sadly chugging his drink as the others hummed in agreeance. 

“Yeah, c’mon guys. It’s the holidays, let’s all spend it together, sleep over for the fuck of it!” Hoseok chimed in what you could tell was an inebriated state, practically swaying as he talked and the lilt in his tone ever-so cheery. 

“Um, excuse me? Sleep over? Nobody’s doing that.” Jimin shoot him down from where he stood near you and Taehyung, scolding his friends with crossed arms. “If they want to leave they’re allowed, we already made Y/N abandon her Christmas for us.” 

“It’s alright, Jimin. I missed you guys too, I wanted to come.” You offered sentimentally, hand touching his elbow to let him up and he eased. 

“Since you’re officially back in town, we’re never leaving you alone again, Y/N!” Namjoon called out from the living room, engrossed in whatever was playing on the TV. 

“Yup, seriously not going to leave you alone.” Yoongi hummed with half-lidded eyes, near falling asleep on the couch. 

“I still owe you for those math notes, expect me becoming your Genie for a day!” Jungkook called out from the kitchen, most likely munching on the treats everyone crafted during the competition earlier. 

“Of course, I’ll see you guys! Merry Christmas!” 

“Merry Christmas!” Everyone cheered, their dates similarly adding on. 

You then brought your attention back to Jimin, seeing you and Taehyung out as the wonderful host of today’s party. “Thank you for the party, Jimin, it was amazing.” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung perked up next to you, apologetic he was so negligent of the party in the first place. “It was seriously fun, Jimin, I’m sorry I acted like it wasn’t a big deal before.” 

“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Jimin casually waved him off. “Dude, you could text me a Merry Christmas and I’d be alright, you know us.” Jimin smiled reassuringly, right on your toes when Taehyung and yourself stepped into his front foyer.  

You were both fixing on your shoes just before Jimin’s door when he spoke up again. “It was great having you guys, and even better having you, Y/N, come here.” Jimin held out his arms for a warm hug, you returning it merrily. “You’re always welcomed here with us, visit anytime you want.”

“Thanks, Jimin, it really means a lot.” Your grateful eyes found his once you disconnected. 

“We’ll get going now, thank you again, Jimin.” Taehyung for some odd reason placed an arm around your shoulder, pulling you two a little closer and you simply accepted the action, trying not to read into it. 

“Of course.” Jimin replied. “Though one last thing, you remember the theme of this party, right?” Jimin asked you both, you and Taehyung similarly responded with knitted eyebrows. 

“Yeah?” 

“Well look up, lovebirds.” Jimin cocked his head upwards towards the ceiling, casually leaning against the corridor of his entrance when you and Taehyung glanced up, innocently viewing the little mistletoe dangling above your heads, eyes reflecting the realization of what Jimin was conveying. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Jimin added with a purposefully hushed, knowing tone. He was just about turning away until he called out in caution. “Oh, careful driving, by the way. I just heard the snow got bad.” And with that, Jimin left nothing but his sweet cologne in the air when he disappeared.

You and Taehyung shuffled about a little, not exactly daring to exchange gazes when the air became all stuffy. 

You were both mutually pondering what the absolute hell to do in this moment. Do you kiss? Do you not kiss? Do you awkwardly try to address what happened earlier after silently agreeing with your dicey body language to never speak of it again? Or hell, do you damn well take Jimin’s advice and just flat out tell him you’ve always had feelings for him? 

Wait. 

Jimin’s advice. 

It came back to you, thinking Jimin was actually extremely wise in what he said. You took to his words into consideration, studying some of the little things Taehyung did around you, from the things he uttered all the way down to the simple way he even looked at you, contemplating something, just something had to be there.

But then maybe, just maybe you could also chalk it up to his naturally flirtatious behaviour you’ve always observed, always habitually affectionate with people and that’s what’s always made him so easily lovable in the first place, what made Taehyung a boy who was born to be loved. 

And he was tricky, his expressions and feelings always indistinguishable with the composed, nuanced way he carried himself especially now, convincing you reading him was a lost cause. 

Though as you glanced at Taehyung right now, visibly nervous, his usually schooled face and unreadable expression now indicating nerves, awkwardness you two have never really experienced between each other before, you decided maybe you should stop making excuses. 

Stop avoiding signs and doubting his every move and burying your feelings so deep underground, that maybe you should just fucking take your leap of faith already. 

So you stepped closer to him, your figure almost laughably smaller compared to him, and watched as his pretty eyes brightened in surprise at you. 

It only took a few seconds, for your lips to curve reassuringly, for your soft hands to cup his face delicately against the edge of his sharp jaw. To get on the tip of your toes and bring your lips to Taehyung’s, pressing a heartfelt kiss to mouth. 

A kiss so very soft and tender, it was like teenagers kissing for the very first time, and it made you giggle on the inside, thinking that’s exactly how your entire ordeal has felt like; your two teenage selves trying to navigate whatever feelings lied between you. 

Taehyung was shocked, having been silently berating himself for being too bold too quickly and thinking his abandonment of chivalry in that instance was wrong, the air between you having been tainted with a sense of unspoken, though apparent awkwardness for the rest of the party. 

But now, now you were kissing him, and for the first time, his insides leaping at just the prospect. It felt like a damn dream, though the press of your mouth against his confirmed it was in fact real, that it was gladly his sweet reality. 

That after years of imagining what it would feel like, he’s kissing the girl he’s loved since the second he saw her hair glow in the rays of the sunset, the minute he realized she wasn’t just pretty, but beautiful to him, the hour he’d witness the moonlight kiss her skin when she stayed up with him on sleepless nights, leading all the way up to the year he realized she’d leave him, so soon, so fucking soon it absolutely crushed him. 

And Taehyung wouldn’t admit it you, but your departure left his heart ravaged for quite possibly years, continuously overthinking how different things would’ve been if he just told you. Told you how he felt, told you that behind every innuendo, behind every hug, every tease, every stupid smile he flashed your way, that there was love behind it all. 

Pure, unadulterated love. 

He regretted it for months, for years thinking he’d truly lost the greatest opportunity in his life having let you go without protest, without fighting for you like he should’ve. 

It hurt, it hurt until he’d eventually grown accustomed to the ache in his heart whenever he saw that same plaid pattern on anyone else, reminded of the jacket you wore to school everyday. The way he found himself subconsciously comparing nearly every girl he dated to you, how on rainy days and quiet nights, he sometimes wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were awake at this time of night like he usually was, remembering the way the moonlight always seemed to love you, just like he loved you. 

And he still did, Taehyung thought. He still loved you, now feeling your lips kiss him, your adorable height making you tippy-toe, the gentle way you held his face comforting. 

Your lips then disconnected, Taehyung seeing your gaze was warm, something so reminiscent of affection, adoration in your eyes, and he thought in that one, singular moment that maybe, just maybe... 

You loved him too. 

“Fuck, this snow is bad.” Taehyung swore as he gauged any clear path of the road ahead.

“I hate to admit this, but the group was right. It was probably better staying at Jimin’s.” You sighed, worried about the amount of damn white you were seeing blanket the world outside. 

“I thought if we left early we could escape it, but shit, mother nature is always so fickle.” He complained. 

“It’s her charm, unfortunately.” You shrugged, realizing there was truly no way for you to get home now. “It’s early too, the snow ploughs won’t clear the roads just yet.” There was suddenly a concerned lilt to your tone as you peered ahead, gripping Taehyung’s arm and it grabbed his attention. “It’s getting dangerous too, Tae. I don’t want you driving in this.” 

Taehyung was glad he had the gifted ability of hiding his emotions, because right now he would’ve been embarrassingly over the moon. He smiled back to you reassuringly, then contemplated an alternative.

“Would you.. rather come to my place?” Taehyung inquired, biting his lip once he realized he stupidly stuttered. 

You blinked. “What?” 

“Well, my place is much closer, and it’d be less dangerous driving there. You can just stay until they clear the roads.” Taehyung relayed casually, expectant eyes on you as his hands tapped against the steering wheel. 

Your face slowly turned into an appreciative smile, taken aback by his act of kindness, but also felt something exciting tickle the bottom of your stomach. 

“Sure, I’d love that.” 

Taehyung shut the door of his apartment as you removed your boots, shredding stray snowflakes off his jacket when he spotted similar ones on yours, his hands naturally jutting out to rid the tiny icicles off you. 

You turned around at his touch, thanking him and he smiled a welcome back. He’d taken your jacket just like before and tucked them away into his closet, gesturing towards his living room for you to get comfortable. 

“Make yourself at home, do you want water or anything?” 

“Yeah, actually. Water would be nice.” Taehyung nodded as he made for his kitchen, you tucking the skirt of your dress underneath you as you took your humble seat on his couch. 

His home was so painfully Taehyung, it had you smiling like an idiot he was still the same. The same introspective Taehyung who adored art and photography, the same Taehyung who absolutely hated shoes and you could tell just by the way he abandoned them earlier he still had the same habit. Even to the way his house reflected this artistic, calming, and nuanced feeling he similarly had.

It drew you to admire some of the pieces draping his walls, when Taehyung returned with a glass of water, handing it to you as he plopped down on the couch. “Here.” 

“Thank you.” You took the glass, gulping down some of the liquid for your parched throat. 

“Your apartment is nice.” 

“Thanks.”

You then both sat in silence for a short while, tapping the edge of the glass in your hand as you scanned the rest of his charming home. The silence wasn’t awkward considering the past events of today, just a silence in its definition. 

“I still can’t believe I ran into you at a coffee shop.” Taehyung suddenly remarked, looking off at his table in front with a smile tugging his lips. 

You chuckled. “Why? Too meet-cute for you?” 

“No.” He chuckled too. “It’s just, I really thought it was the end when you left after graduation.” Taehyung paused for a poignant moment, air heavy with something as you watched him muster the courage to say something else. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” 

He claimed it with such a sense of sadness, sense of longing that reminded you of how upset you also were that day, the rampant emotions that came crashing down realizing you were leaving behind an entire life. 

“Me too.” You added with a similarly downcast tone. “I thought I’d never see you again, either.” 

Taehyung then looked at you, eyes meeting your gaze. “I’m glad that wasn’t true.” Something lingered behind his words, something incredibly thick and telling, though you deflected it with a joke to lighten the air. 

“I’m glad you didn’t delete my PowerPoints, either.” You snickered, hand coming up to cover your mouth, “I used to put a lot of work into them.”

Taehyung scoffed playfully, smiling through a chuckle as he responded. “I didn’t have the heart to. You were so passionate about your hatred for fruit on pizza.” 

“I still am.” You added. “Do you really have them?” 

“Yeah, I do. Let me show you.” Taehyung then pulled out his phone from his pocket, clicking away on the device as he scooted closer to you and leaned in, you similarly doing so and peering at a Google Drive folder of your wonderfully crafted presentations.

“Oh my God, I thought you were joking.” You snorted, snickering at the hilarious folder name; ‘Y/N says Fuck Hawaiian Pizza: the Saga’

“Nope, couldn’t delete them even if I was dared to.” Taehyung laughed with you, both of your eyes naturally falling as he shut off his phone, the conversation shifting. 

“You know, I never actually hated it that much.” You admitted sheepishly. “I just liked annoying you and wasting 5 minutes of your day with every presentation.” 

Taehyung looked scandalized at first, mouth falling agape until he ultimately let it go, admitting something of his own. “You know, I never actually needed your history notes. I just liked being annoying about stealing them so you always had to chase me down.” Taehyung’s smile was suddenly impish, shy as he fixated on fiddling with his slender fingers. 

“After all that running I always did after you too? Jheez, you’re the reason I have strong calves now.” 

“And you’re the reason I’m really good at presentations now.” You both chuckled together, the old days coming back in bouts until your mood changed, remembering Jimin’s advice from earlier. 

As you looked at Taehyung, while he didn’t look at you, you could only help but find every reason in the world to listen to Jimin. Because Taehyung was Taehyung, he was the Taehyung that stole your heart with his boxy grin, the Taehyung who made every other man seem like an unappealing idiot you wanted nothing to do with, the same Taehyung who’s heart was made of love, and you wanted nothing but to return to him the love he gifted the world.

Because you loved Taehyung, no matter how much you’ll try to deny it, you still love him. All his smiles and giggles and soft hair and his sometimes coltish, though endearing ways of being himself. All his hard expressions and intimidating eyes and handsome looks and the way he holds a universe of stars in his old soul.  

So your next words flowed, flowed more fluently than anything ever has in your life. 

“You know,” You paused, eyes faltering to the glass in your hand. “I think, for the majority of high school... I had a crush on you, but I never said anything because I thought you wouldn’t want me.” 

And there came the silence, the piercing, God awful silence you were so afraid of and so sure was spelling your doom. You didn’t dare look up from your glass now, downright terrified he was probably pulling the most confused face ever, and his silence was deafening. It had you contemplating the best way to jump out his window, he was only, what, 14 stories up? A human can survive a fall that high, right? 

“You wanna know something?” Taehyung suddenly broke the silence, his deep, dulcet voice sounding beautifully in his apartment, and your eyes widened the second he opened his mouth next. 

“I think I was in love with you for the majority of high school, but I didn’t say anything because I thought you never felt the same way.” And that’s when everything clicked, when your eyes widened in revelation, when it suddenly felt like the 6 years you spent battling your feelings for him was nothing but a sad joke. 

Because this moment, alone, made you realize you two had the same hearts all along. 

“You wanna know something?” You swallowed hard, eyes still on your glass as it shifted in your hand mindlessly. “I think... I’m still in love with you.” 

You couldn’t see Taehyung, because you didn’t dare look at him at a time like this. You just sat there, breathing as leveled as you could until you felt Taehyung shift on the couch. He’d moved closer, closing the small gap between you both, beckoning you to finally look at him and that’s exactly what you did. 

He spoke low, deep and low and it had your toes curling at just how proximal he was, his beautiful eyes gazing at you like you meant the universe and more to him. 

And little did you know, you really did. 

“I think..” He started, gripping the glass of water from your hands and placing it onto his coffee table. “I’m still in love with you, too.” 

And your heart was set ablaze in a matter of seconds, your tentative eyes finding Taehyung’s as he leaned in, large palms on either side of your body as he inched closer, closer, and closer, until all he could see were your lips, jutting his face forward until his lips just brushed yours. 

You chased his mouth a little, fluttering your eyes shut and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile before finally, finally pressing his lips to yours. 

His mouth kissed you slow at first, slow and steady and it was intoxicating just like this. He constantly chased your lips, mouthing at them sensually and it was driving you insane, just the taste of his lips with a hint of wine on his breath shooting electricity to your core. 

His hands moved to your sides, wrapping around your rib cage as he leaned you back onto the couch and laid on top of you. His body covered you as far as you could see, your dainty hands coming up to find his jawline and pull him against your lips fervently.

He slowly grew more passionate, smoothing over your sides as he mouthed for more of you, swallowing the little moans you made that vibrated through his body and it only revved is engine more. 

Taehyung was taken, completely taken by how much he wanted you that he could only see you, could only think about all the dirty but soft and tender and passionate things he wanted to do to you. 

One of his hands travelled underneath your thigh, pulling your leg up against him as he pressed his hips into your core, his hardening cock prodding you through his clothes once he started a gentle rocking motion. 

Your hands travelled up his beautiful neck and tangled into his hair as you reciprocated. A slight tug left him groaning into your mouth, causing you to buck up into him harshly and it sent Taehyung’s mind into a dangerous place. 

His breathing elevated against you, gripping your ribs so urgently it only made you pull him closer, arch your chest into his just so you could relish in the feeling. Your heart was thrumming in your chest, veins coursing with adrenaline so white hot it wasn’t long before you were moving desperately with Taehyung and it fueled your horny nerves.

Taehyung suddenly disconnected his mouth from you, breathing so shallow his chest was rising and falling fast. He was only centimeters above as he looked down at you, his eyes boring into yours with such a prominent sense of longing, want, pure desire, it took him no time to speak. 

“Do you know how long..” He took a breath. “I’ve wanted to do that?” 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?” You replied, hands now smoothing over his shoulders to feel him, his body raging hot as he laid on top of you, looking at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted. 

“Fuck, we’re so stupid.” Taehyung quickly said before his mouth crashed onto yours. This time there was something carnal in his kiss, something urgent and hot and it only made you pull him closer for more. 

His tongue began to lick over your lips, slithering inside your mouth and the taste of him was euphoric, making you tangle your tongue with his just to taste him over and over again, until it was safe to say your tongues were down each other’s throats. 

He kissed you sloppily, kissed until he was consuming you, his fingers digging into your thigh and side so fervently you knew there’d be marks, and it made your spine shiver, even more so when he spoke again. 

“The minute.. I saw you in that dress..” He breathed out, kissing in between the exhaustion of his lungs. “I wanted to rip it off you.” 

You groaned desperately at his confession, wanting Taehyung in ways that were so utterly carnal, almost feral, your entire being wanting to consume every inch of him, lay a million kisses across his honey-coloured skin and hear his caramel voice whisper into your ear, and so it didn’t take long for you to voice your desire. 

“Taehyung..” You sighed, a satisfied lilt to your tone and it only lit Taehyung on fire. 

“Mm?” He hummed, licking into your mouth on a quest for everything inside, his hips now grinding into your clothed cunt so harshly he was practically dry humping you, and without a second thought you were moving yourself against him too, hands exploring his broad chest. 

“Taehyung..” You were more urgent, and it made Taehyung grunt harshly. “Rip it off me, Tae, unwrap me like you said you would.” You started harshly tugging at his offensive shirt, tracing the column of his throat as you relished in his delicious kisses. 

And it all made Taehyung move so much harder, so much more roughly you were moaning into his mouth at the press of his hard, long cock against your aching core. 

“Ruin me, Taehyung.” You scratched your nails against his neck, swallowing him into your mouth as you talked. “I want you to ruin me.” 

“Fuck,” Taehyung swore, his length beginning to prod you so much more apparently as you bucked your hips up into him, it was sending Taehyung down the proverbial hole. And when you let out another gorgeous moan of his name, he knew he was a goner. 

“Fuck, I can’t do this anymore.” 

Taehyung then harshly grabbed your wrists and forced them against the couch in a single motion, eyes growing dark with heat radiating of his body in waves. He darted to the underside of your jaw and kissed hard, began mouthing at your skin until he travelled to the junction of your neck, sucking over the sensitive skin so rampantly it had you squirming underneath him, desperately trying to feel him against your core. 

His pretty purple marks began blooming onto your neck, evidence of his raw desire for you, the years he spent longing for you. His teeth were nipping your skin, tongue licking over the bites as he pressed your wrists further into the couch the more you resisted. 

You breath hitched when he moved to the slightly exposed valley of your breasts, making your nipples harden at just the prospect of his mouth travelling there. You began fighting his hold, causing you to arch into him as something dawned on you. 

“Taehyung.. your shirt.” You whined, trying to manage the pleasure of his mouth canvasing your skin. 

Taehyung left you for a mere second to shred off the annoying piece of clothing, tossing it aside as he returned to you urgently, your legs hooking around his torso as he came back to you. 

His mouth was sucking hickeys onto your chest again when his hands began to smooth down your sides, so sensually purposeful until he reached underneath the hem of your dress, hooking onto the waistline of your pantyhose and panties, tugging teasingly. 

Your core ignited at just his touch against bare skin, gushing as your hips harshly grinded against his body and your hands smoothed over the lean muscle of his body. 

He yanked the pieces of clothing down the curve of your ass, proceeding to pull them past your thighs as you unhooked your legs to help take them off you. 

The rush of the cold against your wet pussy lips made your breath hitch beautifully, one of Taehyung’s hands moving your skirt to let his large, warm palm cup your sex so pleasurably the contrast of the size of his hand and your little cunt sent you both ablaze. 

“You’re so small, think you can take me, good girl?” Taehyung breathed against your chest. “I’ll fuck up your insides.” His baritone voice was dark and low as he warned you, sent arousal spiking through your nerves as you groaned. 

“Fuck up my insides, Tae.” You desperately moaned out, hands finding Taehyung’s hair as he continued to lay searing kisses to your hot skin, his fingers rubbing your dripping folds harshly. “I just.. I need you, Taehyung, so fucking badly.” 

“Say it again.” Taehyung hissed, exposing one of your bare breasts from your dress and pressing his tongue against a perched nipple, the wet sensation so satisfying you were scratching his shoulder blades. 

“I-I need you, Taehyung.” 

“Need me where?” He growled as he pressed against your clit and circled it, collecting your slick and spreading it all over yourself. 

And it was hard, so fucking hard to think straight with your bare, soaking wet pussy was rubbing against Taehyung’s rough fingers and his lips sucking your exposed nipple for dear life, the pleasure burning inside you so hot your voice was coming out in choked moans. 

“Need you inside, Taehyung.” You gasped out. “So empty without you, so fucking empty, for so long.” 

“God, fuck.” Taehyung groaned proudly, popping off your breast to look at your half-lidded eyes, his own blown out with his hair mussed and lips swollen pink. He returned to your lips again as his hands simultaneously hooked underneath your thighs and suddenly lifted you off the couch, your legs secured around his torso as he walked you into what you assumed was his bedroom. 

Your core rubbed against the buckle of Taehyung’s belt as he walked and you gushed oceans, the cool metal providing such delicious friction you were moaning satisfyingly into Taehyung’s mouth, grinding against him for more. 

His kiss was fervent even when he splayed you onto his covers, back hitting the bed as you stroked your hands over his beautiful bare chest. 

Taehyung suddenly came off you, eyes going wild as he looked down at your panting figure underneath him, then your offensive dress. 

“Fuck this thing.” Taehyung nearly ripped it from your body, shredding the pretty fabric off and simply basked in the glory of seeing your naked body for the very first time. 

Taehyung’s eyes filled with pure wonder, the moonlight and reflection of white snow falling outside adding a glow to your skin he couldn’t help but marvel at, your curves so beautiful he wanted to run his hands all over, the purple of his marks left on you only making him blossom with more arousal, more passion. 

“Holy shit, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Taehyung’s face was so blown away, you couldn’t help but grow a little shy, bringing him close to you by his neck so you could breathe into his ear. 

“Good, I hear you ruin them.” 

Taehyung could only smirk, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, cock twitching at just your words. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Taehyung trailed one hand down your body, momentarily wrapping it around your throat until it was gliding over your nipple and down to your core, lining the lips of your pussy so teasingly you were reeling. 

The pads of his fingers smoothed over your pussy lips again, applying pressure to your clit that had you lurching, until he used the opportunity to slide two fingers into your aching hole with ease. 

“You’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my fingers.” He growled into your ear as he laid himself on top of you, his free hand holding your face while the other worked your core. 

The sharpness of his long, slender fingers were euphoric, causing you to moan loudly. You could see his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his slacks almost painfully, and you jutted your hand out to begin palming him generously. 

Taehyung could finally hiss as loud as he wanted, screwing his eyes shut in sheer pleasure. 

He began pumping you faster in response, sliding in and out so deliciously you were moaning incessantly against his mouth as he began kissing you again. Your breasts were pressing into Taehyung’s bare chest the more you arched yourself, closing the offensive gap between you both and the skin to skin contact sending you both to cloud nine. 

“Taehyung..” You moaned in between kisses, so shameless about your desire for him you only wanted to know his name. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Fucking hell, that does shit to me.” Taehyung began thrusting harshly into your hole now as punishment, practically finger-fucking you against his bed till it made your walls clamp down on him, trap his slender fingers inside so you could feel every heavenly inch of them.

You became hungry for more, your hand grabbing at Taehyung’s straining cock harder and the strangled groan that left his lips was so fucking beautiful, your insides were screaming. 

“Shit, Taehyung,” You moaned out breathlessly. “You’re so hot like this, so fucking hot. Fuck me, fuck me like you said you would. ” 

Taehyung’s breaths turned heavy and hungry, his cock aching to be inside you so painfully he was going insane at your every word. 

“Fuck. I’m fucking you into next week. I’m fucking you until you only know my name. Fucking you until you know how badly I’ve wanted you, until your legs are shaking and you feel me in your throat.” 

“Then do it.” You nearly cried out, hands fumbling with the waistband of Taehyung’s pants. Your pussy was aching so excruciatingly around Taehyung’s fingers your slick was gushing from you, all over him and it only made Taehyung feral thinking about what would happen if it were his dick instead. 

“Fucking do it, Taehyung, fuck me until I’m shaking.” 

Taehyung flipped his switch and suddenly shoved his fingers so deep inside you, scissoring you completely open it made you lurch up in searing pleasure. His large palm grabbed underneath your head and positioned you upwards, able to angle his fingers so he could smash them inside you so harshly it was pathetic it wasn’t even his dick that had you high, but just his fingers. 

“Holy fuck, Taehyung!” 

“Cum all over my fingers, pretty. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung growled into your ear, couldn’t help but think about your walls convulsing around his dick and it was euphoric hearing you moan, all fucked out underneath him. 

He couldn’t stop finger-fucking you like his life depended on it, wanted to fill you up in so many ways you’d remember him for weeks. 

You were almost there, the edge so close. It was racking the bottom of your stomach, had your toes curling and walls pounding so snug around Taehyung’s fingers you could only latch onto the nape of his neck for dear life. 

You felt it, felt it so near and had his name leaving your mouth in such an intoxicating mantra you were seconds from letting go. Seconds, milliseconds, just about to release your impending orgasm until Taehyung ripped his fingers out of you. 

You gasped scandalously at the loss, body buzzing with your unachieved high it made your exclaim come out in a garbled protest.  “Taehyung, what the fuck?!” 

You tried getting an answer, but Taehyung’s hungry, half-lidded eyes shut you up immediately, watching him lick his fingers like he was starved, like this was the sweetest honey he’s ever tasted. 

“Fuck, you taste as sweet as you look.” Taehyung’s grin was evil, and it made you turned on but pissed he denied your orgasms. 

“You’re so-” You attempted to get out, but Taehyung suddenly flipped you onto all fours in a second, your hands and knees anchored onto the bed with only your shocked figure confused. 

“T-Taehyung, what are you-” You then sighed at the sudden touch of his tongue meeting your weeping hole in a devilish swipe. It was intoxicating, feeling his wet muscle begin licking into your core and tasting your soaked folds from behind. 

“I’m doing what you asked..” His voice was dark and weighty, and that’s when you suddenly felt another sensation of his two fingers returning to your throbbing entrance. Your insides buzzed when he spoke against your core, grittier than he ever has all night. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” 

And his tongue suddenly slithered into your hole when he removed his fingers, licking into your entrance in a harsh rhythm as his palms began grabbing at your ass, kneading the meaty flesh as he straight up devoured your pussy like it was the only thing he’s wanted his entire life. 

His tongue was lapping you fervently, so starved your dissipated orgasm was coming back again. You were winded, having never been eaten out like this and you were moaning his name loud enough to get noise complaints filed to the police. 

“Taehyung!” You cried out, though he didn’t let up. Instead he brought one of his hands to your pulsing clit, circling and applying so much necessary pressure you were losing your mind, insane off the fact he hadn’t even filled you up with his cock yet and you were pathetic underneath him. 

“Fucking God, Taehyung, Tae!” And when he groaned so audibly into your pussy, rutting himself against the bed for friction it sent you flying, soaring into the sky and losing all coherent thought as your orgasm bubbled in your stomach, his husky voice grounding you to Earth. 

“Cum for me, baby, now.” And that was all it took to have you lurching over the edge, releasing your pent up orgasm so violently you were nearly screaming, Taehyung’s name the only distinguishable thing rolling off your tongue. 

He licked up your juices like they were fresh water, helping you ride out your euphoric orgasm and allowing yourself a moment to rest. You breathed, falling onto the bed in exhaustion, trying to quell the blood pumping in your ears when Taehyung suddenly pulled you back onto your hands and knees, cautioning you darkly when he spoke. 

“You thought we were done?” It was evil, he was evil, the way his voice sounded like the epitome of a smirk as you tried catching your breath. Taehyung’s lips then suddenly ghosted the shell of your ear as he wrapped an arm around your torso, pressing his chest to your back as he spoke. 

“I haven’t even done anything yet.” 

And again, it was the ‘yet’ that had you groaning out in frustration but in the best possible ways. How wasn’t this already enough? How did he have you so fucked out just by the sheer power of his fingers and tongue? It was sickening, he was sickening and you found yourself throwing your ass back on him to urge his cock into you already, to just fuck you open with all he had. 

“Taehyung, just-fuck! Fuck me, please.” You were pleading, needing to feel the wreckage of what you could tell was the biggest cock you’ll ever take.  

Taehyung had removed his pants and boxers in the moment, freeing his painfully angry cock from it’s confines. You were faltering from your position again when Taehyung suddenly prodded your abused hole with his engorged tip, you shuddering to life harshly. 

“Taehyung, just-” 

“Beg me.” 

You cried out in immediate desperation, his voice so authoritative it was sending you into submission, clutching the covers under you so hard your knuckles were white as you complied. “Taehyung, please, fuck me. I need you, please.” 

Taehyung’s arm was snug around your torso, feeling your every quaking expire in his hold and it was turning him on so agonizingly this was painful even for himself, but the way your sweet voice begged him was absolutely exhilarating.

“More.” 

“Taehyung, if you don’t fucking-!” You were cut off by the sharp impalement of Taehyung’s cock in a single breath, knocking all forms of wind out of you. The head alone was so large you went hurtling into the mattress, almost losing your shaking arms’ support until Taehyung pulled you back up for him, snaking his one hand that was previously around his cock to your breast while the other gripped at your hip. 

He was slowly sinking in, feeling your walls flutter open for him and the satisfied moan that left his mouth was evidence of how much this was affecting him. 

“Fuck...” Taehyung dragged out completely content, digging into your hip to watch you arch your back for him, on his knees as he filled you up from behind. “You’re so fucking tight and wet, holy shit.” 

You were struggling for air, oxygen leaving your lungs trying to accommodate for his monstrous size. It was unfair, so unfair he was so big and it had you praising him immediately, so full and stuffed it was the most pleasurable thing you’ve experienced all your life. 

“You’re so big, oh my God, Taehyung, so big.” One of your hands shot towards his holding you by your hip, interlacing your fingers together against your skin just to ground yourself, to manage the sharp pierce of his length until it simmered into a pleasurable burn. 

He bottomed out into your cervix and you both grunted loud, Taehyung containing himself just so he could feel your velvet walls palpitate around his throbbing dick. “Do you feel how hard I am, Y/N? Do you fucking feel it?” 

“Yes, God fuck! Tae, yes..” You sighed out, eyes watering at just how much pleasure was already raking your abdomen again. 

“That’s what you do to me, you barely touched me and this is how hard I am. How fucking badly I want you, how much I’ve always wanted you, wanted you since day one.” Taehyung’s voice was sincere and desperate, seemingly trying to counter your confession of your feelings from earlier.

“Show me, Taehyung.” You moaned, hands gripping his more affectionately, more desperately as you weakly held yourself up by the other. “Fuck me and show me how much you want me.” 

Taehyung grunted out harshly, pulling his cock out of you until he thrusted back in. The first thrust had you keening, sending you into the mattress only to have Taehyung pull you back up once again. Then the second came, your walls greedily soaking him into you and it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces meant to connect with each other. 

Then came the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way until Taehyung was pounding into you from behind with a drag so delicious you were moaning out more than you ever have in your entire life. 

And it was sickening, utterly sickening the way his dick began fucking you into the mattress so roughly, angling your body in ways for his cock to pump into all the right places with the right amount of pressure. He watched himself disappear into your little cunt repeatedly, holding your hip up to encourage you to arch so low your ass was snug against his pelvis, and couldn’t think of anything more fucking perfect. 

“You take me so well, so fucking well.” Taehyung praised, leaning over to aimlessly lay wet kisses up your spine like the demon he was, shoving himself into you over and over and over again with your walls convulsing around him.

You were trapping him inside you so tight he could spill into you in seconds, though held back determined he was making you cum again.

“So full, Taehyung, so deep.. all I feel is you.” The statement left you with a desperate sigh, your head hanging low until Taehyung’s hand kneading your breast suddenly wrapped around your throat, causing you to gasp at the arousing feeling. He pulled your head upwards, the junction between his long index finger and thumb forcing you to look forward, and you were utterly breathless at the scene.

His lips were near your ear in seconds, speaking like the devil incarnate as he was bent over you. “Look at us, look at yourself, so fucking pretty, so perfect.” You could suddenly see the reflection of Taehyung fucking into you from behind in his window, not even knowing tears had streamed down your face as his hand beautifully encased your throat, causing every nerve in your body to alight with fire. 

“Look at the way I fuck you, how much I love you.” Taehyung’s carnal eyes looked at you through the reflection of the window, heart twinging at the sight of you crying but knowing he’s making you feel good, continuing his onslaught of drilling your battered pussy. 

You moaned at the erotic scene, using every ounce of strength to keep yourself upright, your walls pulsing around Taehyung’s length as he thrusted harder and harder.

“Tae, fuck! I’ve always loved you, I always felt the same way, and I still do-ah!” Your lungs were tapping out when he suddenly shoved himself inside you to the brim, so utterly deep before he was thrusting again harshly, strangling out moans. 

Clear sweat was slick between your bodies, his huge, delicious cock incessantly tearing up your insides and all you could do was chant his name in pleasure, in bliss, in your love for him that was burning so bright it was nearly painful. 

“Y/N.. fuck. You’re ruining me. You’re so perfect, we’re so fucking perfect.” Taehyung was rambling at this point as his speed reflected his desperation, his immeasurable feelings for you. 

He was trying his damn hardest to distract himself from the release aching his balls. He was growing weak himself, feeling you reciprocate his rough thrusts by fucking him back the same way. And the image in the window? Had him reeling, needing to hear the most beautiful sound you’d make when you finally came, and he knew you would, bordering the precipice with the way your walls pulsed around him. 

Watching Taehyung fuck you in the window was now downright sinful to you, his harsh thrusts completely blissful and his hand gently squeezing at your throat was so dominant, so hot you were at your limit and ready to come. 

But what ended up sending you over, pushing you to release the tightening knot in your stomach was the sweet, tender way Taehyung began kissing your neck. 

The contrast between his cock abusing you and his plush lips kissing you so gently, so lovingly, it wasn’t long before you realized his fucking wasn’t just hard or rough, but full of sheer want, desire, love in all the right ways your walls were clenching around him rapidly in seconds. 

And when Taehyung angled himself somehow deeper, in that one, perfect spot, you clamped down and finally came so hard you saw stars, knew you’d completely drenched his cock with the loudest release of his name you were glad it was the only word you knew in this moment. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” Taehyung breathed out in exhaustion, began soothing your abdomen with one hand and the other letting your head finally hang, grip loosened from around your throat and you could finally allow air back into your lungs. 

You were heaving when you spoke up, realizing something. “Inside me.. Taehyung.” You were dreary, utterly gone, but it still didn’t distract you from the blissful feeling of Taehyung’s cock deliciously stuffed and throbbing inside you, trying to coax his rightful release. “Cum inside me, Tae. Please, fill me up.” 

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice when his cock worked a few more rough strokes into your tightened pussy and finally, finally came inside you. It was laced with a satisfied groan of your name, his grip on your side so intense you’d be glad if he left marks, wanting to remember every last bit of this night with Taehyung. 

He painted you completely white inside, spilling everything he could offer into you, using what little strength he had left to hold you up while he continued to empty his seed inside. Taehyung then lost all function and allowed you to fall, his broad body resting on top of yours as you both hit the mattress. 

Your chests rose and fell shallowly, completely taxed and having lost every ounce of strength. Taehyung’s hot breaths for air were fanning your neck, your arms sprawled out before you as Taehyung’s hands mindlessly interlaced with them against the tousled covers, cock still stuffing you whole. 

It was another moment of breathing and regaining oxygen when Taehyung suddenly kissed the side of your neck, giving your hands a small squeeze before you felt him lifting himself, his warmth disappearing and you panicked. 

“Where are you going?” Your throat was hoarse from screaming and moaning, a tinge of sadness to your tone as though he was leaving you, and Taehyung couldn’t help but find it endearing. 

“It’s okay, I’ll be right back.” He smiled, moving your hair from the side of your face to plant a kiss to your cheek, post-sex haze racking his brain though allowing reality to leak back into his mind. 

He then carefully, slowly pulled himself out of you, you whining at the loss of him and Taehyung smiled to himself in contentment, smoothing over your lower back with a palm in gratitude, before stepping towards his bathroom. 

He’d pulled his boxers back on and returned with a damp cloth, finding you still flipped and laying on your stomach, having dozed off in exhaustion until you felt Taehyung’s warmth and heard his dulcet voice hazing you awake. 

“Y/N, turn over for me.” His voice was hushed and tender, you complying by turning onto your back with his help. He then carefully swept the cloth against your battered core, you wincing a little with sensitivity and Taehyung made sure to clean more gently. 

The cloth was thrown back into his bathroom when he turned back to you, an arm thrown over your tear-stained face and the other clutching your body, clearly shivering in the cold now.

Taehyung easily scooped you into his arms and lifted you off the bed, carrying you over to his pillows and delicately placing you upon his duvet, pulling the covers out from underneath you and tucking you into his bed. 

You curled up into his blanket, Taehyung searching through his drawers for a stray t-shirt you could wear. He then lifted you into a sitting position, your eyes evidently sleepy and body limp as he pulled the shirt onto you, letting you fall back in place. 

Taehyung could only chuckle to himself thinking he did mean to ruin you, but not so harshly you were devoid of consciousness. He placed a little kiss to your forehead in apology, wiping some of the tears off your face before he rounded the bed, crawling in next to you.

His arms reached out to pull your back snug against his chest, feeling the sleep in the back of his eyes take him. He basked in the strawberry scent of your hair, completely gratified until you suddenly turned over towards him. 

His eyes shot open, only the top of your head coming into view as you nuzzled into his warm chest, your small self all tucked into Taehyung as he wrapped his arms around you like a safety net, holding you near.

And in that moment, all he could focus on was your light breathing, the sweet sound of your voice as you suddenly spoke in the dark of the night, moonlight glowing upon your entangled bodies. 

“I love you, Taehyung.” 

He grinned, the kind where he felt relieved, fulfilled, in a state of sheer bliss it was a moment before he replied, his own voice calm as you felt the hum through his chest, his hand tangled in your hair. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

The morning sun bled into Taehyung’s room, your eyes fluttering open at a time you had no concept of. You stirred, finding yourself still in Taehyung’s arm, in relatively the same position from last night. You didn’t even feel like moving from his hold, the feeling so utterly fuzzy and comforting. 

You basked in the sensation until he began to stir next to you, pretty eyelashes batting as his eyes fluttered open. His sights fell to you, eyes adorably taken by sleep while his soft hair was endearingly mussed by his pillow. You smiled at him warmly as he grinned back.

“Good morning.” you said shyly, nearly hiding underneath his covers. 

“Good morning.” 

You then flopped onto your back peering up at the ceiling, last night coming back to you in dream-like flashes you were surprised was somehow your reality. 

It was just miraculous, utterly unbelievable until Taehyung turning into your side and snuggling his face into your neck was evidence everything was real, that he was real. It wasn’t some remnant of a dream or hallucination, but the real Taehyung as his arm draped over your stomach. 

You had to bite your lip to contain your happiness, utter exuberance the universe had somehow finally paired you and him together, and funnily enough, on Christmas of all days. 

“What are you thinking about, princess?” Taehyung hummed into your collarbone inquisitively, half asleep as he cuddled you. 

You smiled, basking in his comfort. “Merry Christmas, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung chuckled against you, arm pulling you closer to him as he kissed your neck. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.” 

“Can you believe we met each other again during Christmas? It’s like the perfect Christmas miracle.” You marveled in wonder, tracing your finger along Taehyung’s pretty hand on your stomach. 

“I mean, you know what Andy Williams said..” He mused next to you, husky voice laden with sleep. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

[lady-ragnvindr]

I’m back! My final of the day was horrible but at least the horny juice is pumping! (also I may or may not have become too excited about this particular scenario so now it’s also becoming its own X reader for AO3 when I finish it oops)

*cough* just clearing some warnings first... 👀

Omegaverse (obviously), size difference, reader has two cocks and a 2ft tongue, scent kink, sex pollen but it’s actually reader’s scent cause they triggered a rut, tongue fucking, mouth knotting, animalistic/primal sex, overstimulation, cum inflation, breeding kink, spitroasting (male receiving), marking/claiming bites, double penetration (male receiving), breeding kink, dragon cum confers semi-permanent immortality, slightly yandere characters

———

Okay, so in this setup, Teyvat’s dragons are these secluded and solitary creatures, that are only seen very rarely and decades apart. One is lucky to see a dragon come out of their secret lairs in their lifetime, but they don’t consider it as such, because dragons only ever come out for three things: treasure, war, or... mates.

The thing is, no one knows what happens to these ‘mates’. The dragons just come, towering over the tallest of alphas, roam around the land with their horns and fangs and claws, and then leave with their ‘mates’ on their arms...only for them to never be seen again. So, in the mouth of the people, ‘mates’ are just another word for ‘food’... only with a worse fate. Not that anybody dares to say it to an actual dragon.

In the middle of this, you’re a dragon just over a hundred years old, and you’re just out of your parents’ nest, roaming the land in search of treasure and possibly one (or a few) mate(s) before finally setting yourself with an adult lair.

The humans, however, are nowhere to be seen from where you stand, closing the doors when you pass and hiding their children, and you’re mildly confused, but chalk it off to them having never seen a dragon in their lives. Well, you’re truly majestic, even among other alpha dragons, with your two sets of curled horns and beautifully long tail, but it still hurts a bit seeing the mortals avoid you when you had been so eager to meet them, ever since your infancy’s tales.

And then, a presence makes itself known- or three, to be more precise. Two omegas and a beta, you can tell, and you wonder why they’re approaching you so cautiously, but you’re excited nonetheless. From their smell, you can tell they’re unmated, and you hope that if they’re not here to be your friends, they’re here to be your mates.

The first to approach is Scaramouche, in service of the Tsaritsa to investigate he rumors of a dragon descending (form where, he doesn’t know). He smiles and talks with glee in his eyes at the smile filled with pointed teeth that greets him, and you can feel your chest swell with pride. It’s all going well (all too well even, the unmistakable scent of pleased alpha making his omega reel in want), until the traveler comes too, scowling at him and loudly warning you about Scaramouche’s hidden nature and his probable ill intentions (nothing you hadn’t already noticed, of course).

Aether goes on, introducing himself and offering to help you for a while if you don’t know where you’re going, ignoring the tiny part of his brain that tells him he also wants to use you for his own benefit, finding his sister, but also the much louder one that screams ‘alpha! mine!’ in the back of his mind. Well, if he gets what he’s here for, he might as well be lucky enough to-

And then the third man comes forth, a refreshing smell of qingxin coiling around him just like the white snake on his shoulder, and Baizhu ropes you in his talk, friendly and surreptitious and he sounds out information about you you’d gladly give him in an instant had the ruse not been up. He asks about how life is like for a dragon and curious questions about your tail, and hides his need for knowledge just as much as the saliva already pooling on his tongue at the sight of you, your built form more than a head taller than he is, and the sheer strength you carry in yourself (And the other dragons said you were small for an alpha...)

The curious behavior of them is enough to rope you into their banter, a purr almost forming in the back of your throat at their sight and their scent, mixing so well with your own, but you hold it back for a while, knowing neither of them has tried anything with you. But they will, you’re sure, and you can wait for it for as long as they want.

It’s a few weeks later until your prediction comes true, a week full with lingering tension and careful touches that last just a bit too long and just a bit too little to be not nearly enough at every turn. You’re in the cave you’ve claimed as yours for your stay in the mortal world (only waiting for your little mates to come around), tail loosely curled around the three of them just enough you can chalk it off to a mindless behavior. You chuckle at yet another bickering between Scaramouche and Aether, the sore jabs and quick nips exhilarating to watch, as you prop yourself against the stone wall and play with Baizhu’s hair, his head resting on your lap.

And then, a hand is grabbing at your wrist, propping it against Baizhu’s cheek and him nuzzling against it, vibrant amber eyes staring straight at yours. “So, how do dragon mates work, even?” he says in that silky, languid voice of his, and you feel yourself twitch in interest.

The sounds of the conversation around pause all of a sudden, and now all three of them are looking directly at you, breaths hitched and scents sweetening just a tad, making your mouth water. Slightly nipping at your lip, your gaze wonders through each of them, finally setting down on Baizhu again only to ask, tone a bit more low now, “What do you want to know?”

The curious eyes shift lower on your form, and you feel, just for a moment, that the glint in their eyes could be more menacing that what you see. And then, Aether is shifting closer, now right in front of you sitting back on his knees, and Scaramouche has moved to your side only to stare closely into your face with a devious smirk.

Baizhu turns, and your attention is back at him now. “Perhaps... you’d like to demonstrate?” he says, already trailing a hand through your waistband and you can’t contain yourself anymore.

You snap, feeling the fire burning through your veins, liquid lust escaping through your scent and into the air. You grip at Baizhu’s neck only to pull him up for a fierce kiss, your tongue unraveling from within to shove down his throat, and he whines. Your tail is curling around the other two, death grip as it pulls them by the waist to pile against your heating body, and Aether whimpers, the steady filling of your cocks rubbing on him now that he’s climbed up your lap.

Scaramouche grips at your bulge then, still covered by your clothes, and you groan, leaving Baizhu to grasp for air as he holds right to your frame as you bite into the harbinger’s neck, fangs already extended and ready for marking. The surprised moan that escapes his mouth is almost as nice as the way he turns limp into your arms from shock, only to grab your hair and hold you against his neck, you biting and licking all too eagerly before you feel cold air and deft fingers hit your skin.

A sigh leaves the blond’s pretty lips, and you look down just in time to see him start nuzzling into your cocks, inhaling your scent and looking hazily up to you. He moans as he takes one of your cocks into your mouth, Baizhu’s trembling hand reaching to caress his cheek and tug at your other cock, and you groan as you pump out more of your scent, wrapping your tail tighter against Aether’s waist and moving to rip your mates’ clothing off.

You don’t waste time to maneuver Scaramouche’s hips into your face, his always smug face contorted in pleasure as your tongue breaches his hole, a frenzied rhythm inspired only by your growing need to mate, and breed and to claim. You grip into Baizhu’s head to guide him to your other leaking, dripping cock, and he moans as he laves his tongue on it, intent on pleasuring you the best he can as you hold right to his hair with pricking pain that goes form his scalp right to his cock.

The messy sounds in the cave get drowned by the rain outside and you feel yourself on the brink at all the sensations, thrusting up into the receiving mouths working desperately at you and making Aether gag, taken aback, and Baizhu thank his lack of a gag reflex. Scaramouche, you know, is also more than desperate to get off, shaking his hips and trying to send himself further down your tongue, crying already with a fucked out face and you wonder just how sensitive he is as you lick more intently, feeling your thighs flex and high peak as you slam both Aether’s and Baizhu’s heads into your new protruding knots.

You feel Scaramouche come on your tongue then, triggered by the smell of pleased alpha inundating the cave, and your tongue works faster as the slick drops down his thighs, cum spurting from him only to fall into his stomach and the wall on the back. You don’t stop your licking though, working him up again to a strangled cry as he’s forced to quickly wind up again on it and cum until your knots come down enough to get to actually fucking your mates dry.

The growls you make reverberate against the walls of both the cave and Scaramouche’s hole, and the minor twitches on your cocks has Aether’s eyes suspiciously water, his tongue doing its best to lap at you and keep you satisfied.

Baizhu leaks his scent then, the calming scent just enough to get you to let Scaramouche up, shaking legs struggling to hold him as he drops on your side and drapes his head on your shoulder, and you ride the rest of your high out to his satisfied purrs.

—

You must have fallen asleep at some point, because when you wake it’s to your little mates draped all over you and the burning need to breed. With much less grace that you’ll want to acknowledge later, you groan at the feeling of your rock hard cocks dripping on your chest, and makes quick work of lifting Aether up and unceremoniously dropping him into your cock, and he screams as he wakes up, feeling a size much too large for himself breaching into him all at once. He pants, feeling your soothing hands on his hips as you nip his neck in apology, but you don’t stop until he’s flush against your hips and barely a second to adjust before you’re hammering up into him, grunting at the feeling of your other cock rub against his cleft.

It’s not nearly enough to get you off and you’re about to try and jam everything inside Aether all at once when Scaramouche wakes, scowling at the noise, before stopping himself to the sight. You growl at him, and he looks at you with sheer want on his eyes, and it’s in more of a roar than an ask that you tell him to ride your cock, and he whines, yet makes no move. You sneer, reaching for his hair as you mercilessly yank him into your cock and stuff his hole full all at once, copious slick aiding your work and you can feel him clench at you as he chokes on his words. He whimpers and cries as you thrust up, roughly, barely hitting his prostate in a way that has him screaming for more and arching his back, and you stuff your tail up in his mouth to stop his whining, leaving only muffled whimpers to fill your ears.

Baizhu stirs awake to this vision, the pretty blond clutching at your back and arching to rub against your belly as you fill him up and fuck the pretty, loud sounds out of his lips, and the other artificially arched in a bow as he’s fucked on both ends, and he can’t believe how hard he’s gotten and how grateful he is he left Changsheng and Qiqi to go over on a mission for the week. He wastes no time in nuzzling to your neck and hump into your side as he bares his glands to you, and you waste no time to accept it before diving down and biting hard enough to draw blood. He’s moaning, then, trailing wet kisses over your skin as he speeds up his humping, panting and moaning as if he was a bitch in heat, which he might as well be at this moment.

You dive down as you feel yourself reach completion again, speeding your thrusts and slamming Aether’s hips back on yours as Scaramouche is sluttily rocking back and forth on your other cock, and claims the blond’s bare neck in a single, twisted bite, your teeth so large against his slim neck you grunt and cum right on the waiting bodies above you, knots firmly against the omegas’ stretched entrances, and Baizhu is panting loudly and cussing as you lick the blood away from Aether’s neck only to open again the matching wound on Scaramouche’s.

They come, untouched, still riding on your hips from oversensitivity and Scaramouche is tamer than you’ve ever seen him before, and Baizhu is trailing up again to catch your lips as he grunts and comes on your side, and Aether’s looking so pretty you might as well just keep on fucking him until he can’t take it anymore (and then do it again).

Your omegas look so beautiful like this, fucked out on top of you and even falling over each other, too tired to even process it, and their cum stuffed bellies bulge and satisfy a primal urge in your alpha to keep them well-bred, full of pups and begging for more.

You wrap your tail around them, and decide to wait again for the next wave of your rut, only for Baizhu to tell you to ‘wait for him for a bit’, with the calm playfulness only he can achieve and you thump your tail lightly on the ground in acknowledgement.

It takes not long before he notices when your cum starts to leak from where your knot subsided, and it’s at this moment that he gently pulls the two omegas (or tries to, before you move them yourself) to both your sides and out of your cocks. You whimper at the loss, cold air of the cave and the rainstorm outside replacing wet, tight heat and is about to protest before he groups both of your cocks together and aligns to his hole, sinking down with a hitched breath.

He sighs, adjusting slowly to the intrusion, before he pouts, “I didn’t get to have my fun yet”, and moans when he’s finally meeting your still barely deflated knots with his shaking hips. As you move your hands to his waist and grips, hard enough to leave marks for days, he smiles languidly and laughs, saying there’s something he noticed on your cum. “It heals people, doesn’t it?”

You grunt, thrusting into him the softest you can so as not to wake the tired out omegas on your chest, and nods, saying it’s what helps dragons keep their mates for their whole lives. His eyes sparkle and he gasps, sinking down harder and you can barely contain yourself as to not flip you both out and fuck into him like there’s no tomorrow (someday, you think distantly through you lust-dazed mind).

“Yes, I noticed,” he gasps, and it seems he’s hit an extra good spot, so you shift your hips until you’re aiming right at the spot, the double girth brushing at all his right places at once and he has to hold himself back as to not be too loud. “I wouldn’t be able to take both these monsters at once if not,” he gasps, finishing his thought as you chuckle. It’s not long before he’s coming, clenching down on your cocks as he shivers, and you moan at the welcoming heat, spurts of slick still so little compared to your omegas but delightful nonetheless. He crumbles onto your chest, grumbling something, and nods when you grip harsher at his hips, and you waste no time in wrapping two rings of your tail around his waist, propping his head up with the tip and setting up a much harsher, much faster pace, seeking to destroy the beautiful man you’ve been gifted with. And his self-control is gone at his time, muffling his whines and pleads only by biting into his own hand as harsh as he can, the other twisted into your hair in a tug that makes you want to ruin him. And you do, diving down for the final mark on your beautiful strike today, right over his gland, and he’s spurting again with a hitched breath, making him clench and trigger your orgasm as both of your knots are shoved in his right hole, and he swears he’s gonna cry himself dry at this point.

As you leave his neck and licks soothingly at the wounds, you can’t help but rumble again at the beautiful sight of all your three mates, stuffed full and fucked out for the day.

—

It’s not for a week later that the four of you leave the cave, your rut finally done with and thankfully not triggering any of the omegas’ heats, thanks to their steady use of suppressants. You smile as you walk towards the nearby town, preparing to finally decide where your adult lair is gonna be, and you couldn’t be happier as Aether pulls your hand, leading the group as Baizhu saunters behind and Scaramouche is snarling and snipping sarcasm at the blond’s behavior, and discreetly snarling at everyone who looks at you slightly too long. Your smile grows larger, appreciating how cute they are, clinging to you and scaring off the few people that seemed a bit too interested as well.

So cute, just for you.

Even if you know they would try to kill anyone who ever upset you or tried to talk to you again, but that’s okay. With three beautiful mates like these, who would need any more?

———

This has gotten much longer than I wanted even with all the cuts and edits I made, so I hope you like it bestie 👊🏻😭

~🐃

Babe this is some good shit, each time I kept scrolling I didn't wanted to end 😫

[rax-writes]

More 》 Part Two

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings:  Sexual intercourse, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (f!receiving) [reader is a female-identifying individual with a vagina] Notes:  Part two of More  》 I cannot thank you guys enough for how well More did, and I hope that you enjoy this addition to it!  》 I honestly didn’t edit this all that extensively, so if there are any errors, please let me know. ♥

At the break of dawn the next morning, you found yourself on a loading dock for shipment containers with Sharon, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo – pretending all the while that nothing had happened between you and the latter individual. You wore a sweater with a high neckline, per Zemo’s suggestion, and interacted with him exactly the same way that you had before. He did a good job at selling the lie as well, although he seemed incapable of keeping his eyes to himself, frequently staring at you for far longer than he should have, that dark, hungry look in his eyes returning if his gaze lingered for too long.

“All right, he’s in there,” Sharon announced, stopping in the middle of the massive metal boxes. “Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel, but hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

You accepted one of the earpieces she offered, getting it into place as she walked off. When the four of you entered the container, you found that it was empty, and appeared to have been that way for quite some time.

“Hey, Sharon, you sure this is the right one?” Sam inquired incredulously. “It’s completely empty.”

“Positive. It has to be.”

You entered the container, the other three right behind you, and closed your eyes as they looked around.

“He’s here. I can hear his thoughts,” you announced, then began to pick the doctor’s brain further. “Push against the back wall. There’s a secret passageway.”

Zemo did as you bade him, and sure enough, the wall moved backwards a bit, to allow him to open the hidden door. He shot you a curt nod of approval, then stepped back to allow Sam to enter first, and the rest of you followed suit.

Music filled the air, a swanky song you didn’t recognize, as you stalked through the laboratory, your gun aimed dead ahead and eyes peeled.

“Follow me,” you whispered, taking the lead as you easily navigated to the physical source of Dr. Nagel’s thoughts. When you saw him, his back was to you, slouched over whatever he was working on as he hummed along to the tune. Sam silently walked over and removed the needle from the record that played the music, and Nagel turned around slowly, fear written all over his face.

“Dr. Nagel?”

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“We know you created the super soldier serum.”

“Get out of my lab,” Nagel commanded, as if he was in any position to give orders. He began to walk toward the exit, but you stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand flat against his bony chest.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that. Not until you tell us what we need to know,” you informed him without speaking, your voice infiltrating his mind. Nagel let out a frightened gasp as he looked behind him, apparently thinking that may be the source of the voice, before his eyes landed on you.

“You,” he whispered, his voice a mix of confusion, fear, and awe as you met his gaze with harsh eyes. “You – you spoke to me, in my head. How did you do that?”

“She can read your mind, and she can also control it. So, I’d advise you to answer our questions, before she forces you to,” Sam threatened, then watched as Nagel took note of Bucky across the room. “And you know who he is, right?” He then grabbed Nagel by the arm and turned him to face Zemo. “This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right?” He dragged Nagel to the nearest wall, shoving him against it as his back collided with the metal grate. “You seem like a pretty smart guy, so you better become conversational real quick.”

“How ‘bout a counter proposal? Make me a better offer, and I’ll talk,” Nagel proposed.

“Guys, we have company,” Sharon’s voice stated through the earpiece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go!”

Bucky grabbed Nagel by his shirt and dragged him over to a chair, forcing him down roughly before pointing his gun at Nagel’s head, finger on the trigger. He still didn’t look terribly interested in talking, so you lowered your weapon and narrowed your eyes at him, and used your abilities to insight sheer, unadulterated fear in his mind. His eyes widened and he visibly paled as his mind wreaked havoc on itself, instilling a very pure, very powerful terror within him.

“Okay, okay! I’ll talk! Just stop it!”

You ended the onslaught of panic, and raised your gun once again, as your three companions eyed you with curiosity, unsure of what exactly you’d just done to him. But there would be time for an explanation later.

Nagel explained how he formulated the super soldier serum, and you all listened intently to his little tale. That was when you heard it. Like the crack of a twig in an otherwise silent forest, yet making no audible sound at all, you heard it.

“I must kill him.”

You looked over at Zemo as nonchalantly as possible, and his eyes widened slightly when he realized you’d picked up on his decision. The two of you shared tense eye contact for several beats, and you knew that you must make a choice. Allow Zemo to end this man’s life, and end the possibility of additional serums being created, or warn Sam and Bucky of his intentions?

“You know the damage unchecked Super Soldiers can cause. He is dangerous; he must be stopped.”

Zemo spoke directly to you in his mind, and you took the opportunity to dig deeper, searching for any sign that he was going to betray you, Sam, and Bucky. When you found none, you sighed quietly as you made your choice, and returned your attention to Nagel. Out of your peripheral, you saw Zemo begin perusing the room, feeling underneath tables in the lab in search of a secluded weapon.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky inquired, and when Nagel hesitated, he pressed the barrel of his gun against the man’s temple, prompting an answer of no. “Now what?”

Sharon ran into the room then, announcing, “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.”

Zemo took her distraction as an opportunity to draw his gun and shoot Nagel in the chest, straight through his heart. Sam tackled Zemo, and Sharon took the gun from his hand, whispering, “What did you do?”

The very next moment, the entire place exploded, erupting into flames as you, Bucky, Sam, and Sharon hit the deck, although Zemo was nowhere to be found when you groaned in pain and looked around the room from your position on the floor. Bucky pulled you to your feet, then Sharon, then Sam, as the four of you exited the container before it could explode from all the chemicals and fire in Nagel’s lab. You didn’t quite make it, as a gas-fueled explosion went off just as you exited the container, but you were far enough away from it that it merely blew your hair forward. Once outside, the adrenaline wore off just enough that you felt a blinding pain in your torso, and looked down to see blood quickly soaking through your sweater.

“Bucky,” you called out, and he turned quickly, a frown forming on his face when he saw your injury. You lifted your shirt to reveal a thin, jagged, three-inch long sliver of metal embedded in the center of your abdomen. Sam turned to bark orders at the two of you, but his face fell as he saw the blood.

Sharon made quick work of removing the metal, which was thankfully only about an inch or less in width, so it wasn’t at all deadly. Truthfully, it wasn't that bad of an injury, but god was it bleeding like hell. Bucky yanked off his jacket and handed it to you, instructing you to apply pressure to the wound and stick close to him. Your three companions shot at the bounty hunters that were approaching, and you did your best to fire a few shots yourself, your other hand pressing the jacket firmly against your injury. Sam shot you a disapproving look and told you to focus on yourself, but you ignored him.

While Sam and Bucky began bickering about who should have followed whose orders, there was yet another deafening explosion nearby. You looked in that direction to see Zemo with some sort of mask on, jumping down from atop some storage containers, before leaping over some metal piping and dodging past a man to evade his bullets, then grabbing him by the collar to use him as a human shield. He fired multiple rounds at the nearby bounty hunters, before releasing his grip on the first man and kicking him away, then shot him too. He looked at you through the flames, and you didn’t have to read his mind to know how exhilarated he felt, being truly back in action after spending years in a cell.

If asked, you’d chalk it up to the blood loss, but… goddamn, he looked hot kicking ass like that.

“Go,” Bucky ordered, helping you up and wrapping an arm around your waist to steady and guide you as the four of you made a break for it. Eventually, you reached an open storage container, and Sam helped you into it as Bucky fended off the last few bounty hunters.

When Bucky burst through the back of the container with his vibranium arm, you heard tires screech and an engine rev, before Zemo pulled up in a sports car.

“Supercharged,” he stated with the faintest smile. Christ, he was just a little bit of a goofball, wasn’t he?

“You’re going back to jail,” Sam said angrily, then turned to you. “And you were supposed to tell us if he was going to screw us over.”

“Nagel shouldn’t have been kept alive. I know you don’t like it, but it is the truth,” you reasoned.

“He didn’t have to die though, dammit! He could have just gone to jail, locked up for the rest of his life!”

“Oh, yes, just like Zemo? The man standing five feet from us, very much not in jail?” you countered, and he frowned, knowing you had a point. “Once word got out that Nagel knew how to recreate the serum, every power hungry individual and group in the world would be trying to find a way to either break him out or ask him about it. And I’m sure he would have told anyone for the right price. Even if the serum didn’t fall into the hands of the wrong people, even if a seemingly good-natured country like America were to get ahold of it, it could still be used for evil. They clearly don’t have the best moral compass, considering the asshole they gave Captain America’s shield to.”

“Alright, yeah, you’ve made your point,” Sam grumbled. “But I still think we should take Zemo back to jail.”

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo interjected.

“He’s right, we need him. And there’s three of us, and at least 20 of them. Come on,” Bucky said, pulling open the door of the car before turning around to help you into the vehicle. Only then did Zemo notice the blood on your hands and sweater, and Bucky’s blazer pressed against your torso.

“What happened to her?�� Zemo inquired, sitting up to help you sit behind him, and frowning when you grimaced as you maneuvered into your seat, careful not to get any blood on the lovely cream interior. The car didn’t belong to any of you, but it was so beautiful that you hated to harm it.

“Stray shard of metal during the explosion in Nagel’s container,” you explained, grimacing a little as you leaned your head against the headrest behind you, eyes closed as you willed the pain to subside.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be. Probably just needs a few stitches, then I’ll be good as new,” you assured him, shooting him a tight-lipped smile, which he didn’t seem to buy before he removed his trenchcoat and laid it on top of you.

“You look cold,” he muttered, then turned back around in his seat to face the steering wheel.

“Fine, but if you try that shit again…” Sam told Zemo as he climbed into the car.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Zemo responded, and you didn’t have to check his thoughts to know that that was a complete lie.

Sharon bid you all goodbye, and Sam thanked her for her help before sliding down into his seat.

“You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?” Sam asked Bucky.

“No,” he deadpanned, causing you to chuckle under your breath, which earned you a glare from Sam.

The drive back to the airport was mostly silent, which you were thankful for, as you didn’t really have the energy for talking. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but you’d still lost enough and exerted yourself enough that you were feeling fatigued. Zemo parked the car on the landing strip, a short distance from his jet, and was quick to exit the vehicle to help you out. You thought you were doing quite well, until you actually stood up outside the car, and the exhaustion combined with some wooziness from the blood loss made your knees buckle. You would have fallen if Zemo hadn’t lunged forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“Let us get you aboard the plane, and I will dress your wound,” he said, then stooped to scoop you up into his arms bridal-style, and began carrying you toward the jet. Sam and Bucky eyed him curiously, but said nothing. Admittedly, you were too flustered by the close proximity and his gentleness toward you to say anything yourself. You looked over his shoulder, admiring his stolen vehicle one last time.

In Sokovian, you stated with a smile, “I’d like one of those by the way, the Pontiac.”

“Whatever your heart desires,” he responded calmly, matching your Sokovian. As he approached Oeznik, who stood beside the steps of the jet, he continued in that language as he instructed the butler, “Have that car, or one exactly like it, delivered to Berlin as soon as possible, please.”

“Of course, sir.”

Zemo laid you down gently on the couch inside the plane, Sam and Bucky following close behind. Once inside, Oeznik brought Zemo the first aid kit, a needle, and some stitching. Both of the other men offered to do it themselves, but Zemo insisted that he could do a better job than both of them combined. In a manner much unlike the night before, Zemo lifted your shirt to have access to the wound, and set to work. Bucky let you hold his hand as Zemo cleaned the area and did the stitches, while you forced yourself to breathe evenly and ignore the pain of the antiseptic and the needle. A mere fifteen minutes later, you were all patched up, and Zemo was helping you up and sending you to the washroom with a change of clothes.

“You’re gettin’ real sweet on her, Zemo,” you heard Sam note, his tone suspicious. “You better watch yourself, man. Step out of line with her and we won’t hesitate to end you.”

“Understood,” Zemo replied nonchalantly, then you could hear him open a book and take a sip of his champagne. For your own amusement, you took a peek into his mind, and found that he was thinking, “Too late.”

You smiled to yourself as you undressed, carefully removing the blood-soaked sweater and placing it in a trash bag. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you first noticed the hickeys from last night, then the miscellaneous cuts scattered across your skin from the various explosions, and the gauze taped over your wound. The hickeys caused your smile to widen further, and you donned the plain black t-shirt of Zemo’s and his loose gray sweatpants before rejoining them in the lounge. His eyes darkened in that way as his gaze raked up and down your body, clearly enjoying the sight of you in his clothing, but he quickly returned his attention to Sam.

“She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go,” Zemo suggested, then leaned back in his seat. “I, for one, am looking forward to coming face-to-face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.”

A few hours later, Bucky and Sam had fallen asleep after reclining their chairs and dimming the lights, as you laid on the couch, halfway asleep yourself despite the book in your hands. Once their near-identical snores had filled the cabin for several minutes, Zemo stood from his seat and came to crouch down beside your head. His expression was unreadable as he stared at you, before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I must admit, I was very concerned when I saw all the blood on your shirt. I have only just found you, my Sokovian beauty. I would prefer to draw out having the privilege of being acquainted with you for as long as possible, but I cannot do that if you get killed.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid it,” you teased, and he smiled softly. “Thank you for taking such good care of my injury earlier.” He said nothing in response, simply smiled a bit wider and kissed you again, longer this time, but still far shorter and far less intimately than you’d have preferred. You both had to take the others into consideration, even despite their snores, because you were quite certain they’d put a bullet between Zemo’s eyes and send you home immediately if they learned just how “sweet on you” the man truly was. He stood and fetched a blanket from an overhead cabinet before laying it over you, then pressed his lips to your forehead, and returned to his seat.

“Goodnight, Liebling,” Zemo said softly, flicking off the last light in the cabin as he settled back into his seat.

“Goodnight, Baron.”

—————

Riga was somehow comparably chaotic to Madripoor, in terms of the events that transpired there.

Shortly after you arrived at Zemo’s estate, Bucky returned from his "walk" to declare that the Wakandans were there to take Zemo, although he bought some time. In all honesty, you were only half-ass listening to him, because Zemo had exited the bathroom with wet hair and a purple robe that revealed half his chest. He caught you staring and shot you a subtle wink while Sam and Bucky were talking, and you rolled your eyes in return.

Next stop was a refugee camp, where you, Bucky, and Sam searched in vain to get any information on Danya Madani. Zemo somehow managed to accomplish the task, albeit in the creepiest way possible, which you teased him relentlessly for on the walk back to his flat. When he revealed that the girl he'd spoken to told him the time and location of the funeral, but refused to tell any of you, Bucky was quick to anger, snatching the teacup from Zemo’s hand and throwing it against the wall. Sam talked him down before you grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him gently toward the door.

"Come on, let's take a walk. I saw a little farmer's market down the road; let's go have a snack and explore a little, yeah?" you asked, your tone calm and soothing to contrast the rage that swarmed in his mind, and Bucky nodded gravely to you as he let you lead him. When you glanced back into the flat as you closed the door behind you, you saw that Zemo was wearing a frown, and a quick peek at his thoughts informed you that he was pouting a bit, wishing you'd have just sent Bucky off and stayed with him. You rolled your eyes internally, then accompanied Bucky to the market, where the two of you ate some plums and took a little walk. When the two of you returned to the flat, Zemo announced that it was time to head to the funeral.

"Did you enjoy your little excursion with James?" Zemo inquired in Sokovian, a tinge of spite in his voice. "Did you relieve his tension?"

"It wouldn't be any of your business if I did," you shot back, also in Sokovian. The disdain on his face disappeared quickly, and you added, "But no, we just took a walk and had some food, as I said we would. Jealousy does not suit you, Baron."

Zemo's voice took on a gentler tone, the Sokovian dripping from his tongue like honey as he said, "My apologies, darling. You are just so magnificent that I want you all to myself; the thought of you with another man is enviable."

"Don’t apologize. Just end it."

He nodded, and before either of you could say anything else, that asshole John Walker showed up, along with his partner. They demanded that Sam and Bucky no longer keep them in the dark, but ultimately, Walker conceded to follow Zemo, and allow Sam the opportunity to talk to Karli alone. As Sam walked off, Walker grabbed Zemo forcefully and handcuffed him to some kind of metal contraption on the wall.

"Aggressive. But I get it," Zemo quipped. He turned to you, and in Sokovian, said, "Once I get out of these, perhaps we could use them to our advantage later this evening."

"Zip it, Zemo."

Unsurprisingly, Walker betrayed his agreement with Sam, barging in on the memorial before Sam's allotted time was up.

"Uh-uh. No, no, no, no. This is a bad idea."

"It hasn't been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight," Bucky responded calmly.

"Don’t do that. Don't patronize me."

"Then do not behave so childishly," you retorted, and Bucky elbowed you while Walker shot you an icy glare. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bucky cut him off, aiming to divert the subject before Walker pushed you any further.

"He knows what he's doing."

Walker was silent for a moment more, before he grabbed the shield – which shouldn't be in his possession in the first place – and marched toward the door. "I'm goin' in."

Bucky stopped him, but after Walker guilt-tripped him, Bucky stepped to the side to allow him to pass. You groaned in exasperation the second Walker walked off.

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"It was either that, or you and me fight Walker and Battlescar – or whatever his stupid code name is. I'm already on probation, and I helped the guy that split up the Avengers break out of prison. I really don't need ‘beat the shit out of the new Cap’ added to my list of wrongdoings," Bucky said, running a hand through his hair before clapping a hand on your shoulder. "Come on, let's go find Sam."

As Bucky jogged off in the direction Walker had gone, you followed while grumbling, "My preference would have been the latter, but no, why would anyone ask for my opinion? I'm just the pet mind reader."

When the two of you caught up to Walker and Hoskins, the former was thrown into a table by Karli, and she ran off. Bucky chased after her, and you took another route to try to intercept her, to no avail. You caught up with Sam and Bucky a few minutes later, out of breath as Sam commented that the building was like a maze, and you wholeheartedly agreed. By the time the three of you found the others, Karli was gone, Walker was just standing there, and Zemo was out cold on the floor.

Walker and Hoskins stated that they were going to search for Karli, and ran off. Bucky threw Zemo over his shoulder like a damn ragdoll, and the three of you trudged back to Zemo’s flat, a little worn out and a little defeated. Once there, Bucky threw him down on the couch, and Zemo bounced limply atop the cushions, still unconscious. Sam began working on his laptop, and Bucky went on yet another walk, while you searched for the first aid kit.

Zemo looked surprisingly peaceful and non-threatening as he laid there, appearing to be asleep. You kneeled beside his head and lightly applied some antiseptic on the cut left by Cap's shield, right at the top of his hairline, and you found yourself admiring him. He had soft features for a man so dark inside; soft chestnut brown hair, adorable nose, slight bit of stubble across his gentle jawline and neck. You began dabbing the antiseptic again, still lost in your own thoughts when he awoke very suddenly, grabbing your wrist in a fierce grip out of reflex. Zemo's eyes were wide when he first opened them, but upon seeing you, he visibly relaxed and released his grip on you.

"Apologies," he whispered, then groaned softly when he felt the pain in his head. You stood silently and retrieved a rag from the drawer beside the sink, wetting it with cold water, then filled a glass with some ice and brandy and returned, handing both items to Zemo. He thanked you very sincerely, then laid the rag over his forehead and eyes, and held the glass atop his chest.

You were grateful that Sam hadn't noticed you doting on him, too focused on his laptop, because he'd have definitely asked you about it, and you didn't even have an answer for yourself. It wasn't like there was any need or obligation for you to tend to him like that, and yet you did without even thinking. As you took a seat opposite Zemo on the couch, you told yourself that it was merely payback for how he assisted you with your own injury the day before, and left it at that.

It wasn't long before Walker and his partner showed up again, demanding to place Zemo under arrest. You, Sam, and Zemo all stood when he burst through the doors, all silently conglomerating to one side of the room. Walker had the gall to threaten Sam, and it had your fingers twitching on the gun in your thigh holster in rage. Before anything could come of that, the Wakandans Bucky had mentioned showed up, and when Walker tried talking down to them before placing a hand on one's shoulder, melee ensued.

You leaned on the bar with one arm, watching in amusement as Walker got his ass handed to him. Zemo seemed to be in the same boat, observing without expression as he passed you his drink, and you took a couple of sips before returning it.

"We should do something," Sam said to you and Bucky.

"Looking strong, John!"

"Yes, excellent form! Top notch," you added. "Really showing them the prowess of the new Captain America!"

"Bucky…" Sam chided, prompting Bucky to finally intervene. Sam looked to you, and you held your hands up in defense.

"I am not fighting the goddamn Dora Milaje. I don't feel like dying today – especially not for the sake of helping John Walker."

Sam sighed before joining the fight himself, and that was when Zemo’s hand enveloped yours, silently tugging you towards the bathroom. You opened your mouth to say "Is this really the time for a quickie?" but he held a finger to his lips, effectively silencing you. Once he had successfully guided you into the bathroom, he closed the door quietly behind him, and shoved the tub to the side, revealing a secret passageway.

"Come with me," Zemo said simply, and you scoffed.

"I'm not abandoning Sam and Bucky. My place is here."

"Actually, if I remember correctly, your assignment is to keep an eye on me. Although I'd rather not have to, I will overpower you if I must, because I will be leaving now. So, it is technically your job to follow me, and it would behoove you to simply follow your comrades’ orders without an unnecessary scuffle."

The man really didn't miss a beat, did he? Sam and Bucky had, in fact, assigned you to watch Zemo. Although it was implied that that was everyone's task, they had specifically delegated the role to you. So, it was a matter of whether or not you could take Zemo in a fight, and although you secretly hoped he'd go easy on you, you knew that his own self-preservation was his chief concern.

"Fine," you grumbled, not missing the smile on his face as you shoved past him and jumped down into the tunnel.

Your joints ached in protest of your actions, but you ignored it. He was right behind you, not even bothering to cover the passageway back up before taking off in one of the three directions that the tunnel led to. You were right behind him, and it wasn't long before the sounds of the scuffle faded away. Roughly five minutes later, you reached the end, and he pushed aside the manhole above you and climbed out. Zemo took your hands and helped you out as well, before replacing the manhole while you surveyed the area. It was a city street, but they all looked the same in Riga, so you had no idea where you were.

"Come on," Zemo said, lacing his fingers with yours as you ran down the street. He took a few turns and ended up in the town square, where he led you into a hotel. As you entered the lobby, he explained, "We'll stay here for a few hours, essentially hiding in plain sight, to allow the Dora Milaje and Walker time to leave and search for me elsewhere."

You nodded, and as you approached the front desk, Zemo wrapped his arm snugly around your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Do you have any availability for the night?" Zemo inquired, then smiled lovingly at you. "It is our wedding day, and my beautiful bride simply cannot wait until we reach our honeymoon destination to get her hands on me."

You sent Zemo a quick glare, but the man at the desk didn't notice. He chuckled and nodded, saying something about "What a happy couple" as he booked the room for you. Zemo ignored your pointed look and kissed your temple, thanking the man and paying for the room before leading you in the direction of the room. As soon as you were out of earshot of the desk clerk, you glowered at Zemo once again, although his arm remained around your waist until you reached the room. Not that you minded, really.

"'Beautiful bride'? 'Honeymoon'? Really?"

"Yes," Zemo replied calmly, unlocking the door and opening it for you. As you walked past him, he elaborated, "If Walker comes looking for me, he'll be asking for a former SHIELD agent and a criminal. If the gentleman at the desk is convinced we're a happy newlywed couple, he won't even think to mention us to Walker."

It didn't take more than half a second to find his genuine answer in his mind. "How smoothly and effortlessly you lie, Zemo. You simply wanted to touch me again, so you came up with a convenient excuse."

Zemo licked his lips subtly, before shrugging with a small smile, wordlessly saying 'you got me there.'

"We need to get back to Sam and Bucky once Walker and the Dora Milaje are gone, but there's no foolproof way to go about it," you began pacing the room, as Zemo remained fixed beside the wall. "If I text Sam or Bucky, Walker will know they got a message, and they're both the worst liars I've ever met. God knows we don't need the Dora having any idea about where you are, you wouldn't last a full minute before they drove a spear through your chest. We also can't wait around too long, because then Sam and Bucky might leave Riga, and —"

You were still pacing and mid-sentence when Zemo suddenly grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you into a searing kiss, effectively silencing you. His other hand rested on the curve of your waist, pulling you against his chest. The surprise of the act and subsequent warm feeling in your stomach absolutely obliterated all other thoughts from your mind, and all you could focus on was him.

At some point, you regained your senses, albeit still in a haze. You pressed your palms to his shoulders and shoved him a few inches back, and he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes and lust-blown pupils.

“We – we need to focus on Sam and Bucky,” you managed to stammer out, but Zemo simply cupped your cheek and stroked the side of your face with his thumb.

“Is that truly what you want to be focusing on, Schatz?” Zemo inquired, his voice low, taking on even more of a gravely tone than usual. It flooded your veins with heat and desire, and you found your eyes fluttering closed as he bent down to pepper your neck with kisses. “Or would you rather simply wait out Walker and the Dora Milaje here, with me? Allowing me to touch you, taste you, in all the ways I know you crave?”

The final shred of your sanity left the building when he gently bit down on your neck, at the point where it met your shoulder, and you found yourself releasing a breathy moan and melting into his touch. Zemo wasted no time in kissing you once again, lips fast and insistent on yours, one hand on the small of your back, pressing you against him, and the other on the nape of your neck once again. His body leaned into yours as he kissed you with fervor, and your hands longingly grasped the front of his sweater. Eventually, Zemo abruptly spun you around to press your back against the wall that had previously been behind him, and he hiked one of your legs up onto his hip, gripping it under your thigh. His other hand slowly moved from the back of your neck to the front, fingers curling deliciously around your throat as he applied a little pressure, earning another airy moan from you.

As if on reflex, his hips bucked up into you, and the friction left you mewling. Just like last time, it seemed to be your noises that set Zemo off, as he released a low growl from the back of his throat and dropped your leg to tear your shirt off while you took the hint and kicked off your shoes. He undid the fasten on your jeans with lightning speed, and yanked them – along with your panties – down past your hips so you could kick them both off. Next went your bra, which was flung god knows where in the room, and Zemo took a small step back to admire you.

It only lasted for a split second, because you then grabbed the straps he wore around his shoulders and used them to pull him in and kiss him again. Zemo’s hands glided slowly, sensually down your shoulders, your back, then came to rest upon your ass, grabbing it fiercely with both hands. His hands trailed further down, to the undersides of your thighs, before he lifted you with surprising ease and carried you over to the bed at the center of the room. Zemo threw you down onto the mattress unceremoniously, gaze locked on your chest as he watched your breasts bounce from the force, but you were quick to sit upright and pull him back in by the shoulder straps. You removed them then, as well as his turtleneck and belt buckle, and he was cooperative in removing his own boots and slacks, leaving him in his black briefs, his cock tenting the fabric there.

When you reached out to remove his briefs, Zemo pushed you to lay down by your shoulder, and knelt down at the edge of the bed, opening your legs at the knee with a harsh grip. You didn’t even have time to blink before he dove in, licking a long stripe up your slit before moving to your clit as your head fell back onto the mattress and your eyes fluttered closed. He focused primarily on your clit, occasionally lapping at your folds, but always returning his attention to that bundle of nerves. Gasps and moans were already falling for your lips, but when his middle finger and ring finger entered the fray, you found yourself crying out his name and tangling your fingers in his hair.

That delectable little growl of his escaped him once more, and you felt the vibrations of it against you, which warranted another moan, and Zemo’s fingers began delving in and out of your core at a steadfast pace. When he began curling them upwards, rubbing them against that sweet spot deep inside you, you were a goner. He wanted more of your beautiful sounds of pleasure, wanted to see you become more and more undone for him. You only lasted a couple minutes longer, growing progressively louder and more unhinged with each passing second. You were then launched over the edge, one hand tugging on his chestnut tresses and the other gripping the comforter of the bed, crying out his name amongst various explicatives.

When your eyes opened again, Zemo was standing, kicking off his boxers as he made eye contact with you while he sucked his fingers clean of you. He had set his wallet on the bedside table in the midst of your pacing, so he retrieved it and pulled a condom from one of the compartments. You sat up and snatched it from him, quickly tearing it open and rolling it down over his length. The sensation caused a sigh to leave his lips, before murmuring, "Eager, are we, Kätzchen?"

Electing to ignore him, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with you, wordlessly instructing him to lay down by pressing your hands on his chest. Zemo got the message with ease, happily complying as you straddled him. The sight of you sinking down on his clock, your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself, caused him to groan in pleasure. Far too eager to spend an abundant amount of time adjusting to him, you began moving, rocking your hips back and forth at a resolute pace, savoring the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. Zemo's hands rested on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin as he helped you keep your rhythm, while he gazed up at you as if you were a goddess in the flesh, his jaw hanging open slightly and hair disheveled.

By the time you were approaching your second orgasm, Zemo could tell, from the faltering of your hips as they strove to increase their speed, and from the way your nails raked down his chest each time you used his length inside you to hit that special spot there. He began thrusting up into you, eager to feel you come on his cock. You unintentionally caught a passing glance at his thoughts, and learned that it seemed that he always wanted more of you, needed more of you, to the point that he questioned if you had toyed with his mind somehow. You were about to inform him that no, you had not done anything to his mind, when he trusted particularly hard and deep up into you and his fingertips dug deliciously hard into your hips at the same time, and all sensual thoughts left your mind as you met your release a second time.

Still shaking slightly and moaning breathlessly, Zemo flipped you over onto your back, lifted your calf up onto his hip and held it there, and began pistoning in and out of you at a desperate, unforgiving pace. When your eyes fluttered open, you found that he was practically snarling above you, teeth bared in concentration and an intense fire in his eyes. It reminded you that his softness toward you did not change the fact that he was a criminal mastermind and former kill squad leader, who had done a great many terrible things. Yet the thought only made you want him even more, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him into a heated, haphazard kiss.

Zemo thrust in and out of you like a man on a mission, the sound of his pelvis colliding with yours filling the room, before he pulled out of you long enough to flip you onto your chest, face in the pillows and ass in the air, then resumed his pace. The new angle felt incredible, and it didn't take long before you were moaning into the pillows, fists clenched around the duvet. In the blink of an eye, Zemo grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you upright, your back flush against his chest.

"Do not hide your beautiful noises from me, Liebling. I want to hear you," Zemo commanded, and you moaned in response, both as a confirmation of his words and as a natural reaction to the low, gravely tone his voice took on. His hand moved to encase your neck, tilting your head back even further so he could trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, before biting down on your shoulder, earning a shuddering gasp from you. "Now tell me, Kätzchen: who makes you feel this good?"

"You," you choked out, groaning in pleasure when his fingers tightened their grip on your throat.

"Me, what?"

"You, Baron," you corrected, and Zemo hummed in approval, kissing you quickly in praise. He gave your neck another squeeze before throwing you back down onto the mattress, his hands on your hips as he returned his focus to fucking the very soul out of you.

As his hips began to stutter into yours and soft moans began falling from his lips, signaling he was approaching his end, Zemo reached around your body to begin expertly rubbing your clit, desperate for you to finish in unison. The way your walls fluttered around him let him know that he was on the right track, so he quickened the pace of his fingers on your clit, careful to maintain the angle he was thrusting at. As you fell apart beneath him a third and final time, your scream of "Baron!" and your core clenching around him like the most luxurious vice, Zemo found himself crying out your name in accompaniment with a low, guttural moan, spilling himself into the condom.

Zemo didn't move for a moment, hands still clutching your hips, albeit with a looser grip now, as he fought to catch his breath. Still panting, he slowly removed himself from you, falling into a sweaty heap beside you. Breathing heavily yourself, you leaned over to kiss him – far slower this time, both of you reveling in post-coitus bliss. He affectionately brushed your hair away from your face, as it had been stuck to your forehead from perspiration, before stroking your cheek with his thumb.

A brief eternity later, Zemo stood and headed to the restroom, no doubt disposing of the condom, before returning in one of the hotel’s white bathrobes and holding a cold rag. He flopped down onto the mattress, placing the towel over his forehead and eyes as he had earlier in his flat.

“Apologies, Schatz. As enjoyable as that was, it certainly did not help my migraine,” Zemo explained, blindly reaching out to grab your hand and bring it to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

You murmured a dismissive ‘you’re fine’ before heading to the washroom yourself, hopping into the shower and allowing the burning temperature of the water to ease the ache in practically all your muscles – some of it from fighting, some of it from fucking – although you suspected that the ache in your thighs, from being so tense throughout the multiple orgasms, wasn’t going away anytime soon. Thankfully, Zemo truly had done a marvelous job on your stitches, and the wound was already healing up nicely. By the time you finished your shower, the steam had clouded the room and coated the mirrors with condensation, but you felt more relaxed than you had in days. Donning a bathrobe yourself, you exited the bathroom, and situated yourself in the chair beside the floor-to-ceiling window on the wall of the room. Zemo was snoring softly, and the quiet tranquility of the room and the comfort of your seat sent you into a cat nap of your own, your head falling back against the chair as you slipped into unconsciousness.

You were entirely unsure how long you had slept, but when you awoke, Zemo was sitting with his back resting against the headboard, reading a random book he’d found in the room’s nightstand. He looked up at you long enough to flash you a small smile, before returning to the book. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then sat up straighter in the chair and gazed out the window beside you. You hadn’t noticed, but the room had a lovely view of the town square.

A few minutes after you began observing the city below, your eyebrows practically shot up into your hairline as you saw none other than the bastard himself, John Walker, chasing one of the Flag Smashers before hitting him with the shield, sending the man flying into the statue at the center of the square. Each member of the bustling crowd stopped dead in their tracks, watching the scene unfold before them, as this new Captain America placed his foot on the man’s chest, pinning him against the stairs of the statue, as the man screamed, “It wasn’t me!”

The chair you were sitting in clattered to the floor as you stood bolt upright, a shuddering gasp escaping you and your hand flying to your mouth as you watched Walker raise the shield high above his head, a completely unhinged look upon his face. Zemo was at your side in an instant, his hands on your upper arms as he stood behind you, a worried expression on his face, wondering what could have caused you such distress. Before he had the chance to ask, Zemo’s eye caught the scene below, and you both watched in shock and horror as John Walker drove the shield into the Flag Smasher’s chest, again and again and again, until the man just laid there – bloodied, bludgeoned, and unmoving. Dead, at the hands of the new Captain America.

—————

@henrysmorgan​ @clints-lucky-arrow​ @therenlover

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Undercover- Mob! Steve Rogers Part 2

Okay here is the highly requested part two to my Mob! Steve post! I had some technical difficulties posting it but hopefully you guys see it in the tags now :)

Warnings: swearing and smut

Word count: 2.8k

“When I said go undercover, I didn’t mean under his covers, Agent.” Director Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. It had now officially been twenty-four hours since your encounter with the mob boss and you had been waiting anxiously all day to talk with Nick Fury. The rumor around the office all day was that he wasn’t too pleased with how things went down.

“I did what I had to do, sir.” You stated boldly.

Fury scoffed but didn’t respond.

He was quiet for a moment, his eye scanning over the piece of paper in his hand. You fidgeted uncomfortably as your legs were still sore from your romp last night and you tried to hold it together as Fury gave you a weird look.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You muttered a thank you as you took a seat.

“Listen, this is all good and fine but I want more. This,” He waved the note in his hand. “Is just a drug felony. I want this bastard put away for life.”

“But what about Stark?”

“A slippery politician, nothing more. I want insight on just more than this. I want it all.”

You sat back in the chair. You understood where he was coming from, but he was also acting like you hadn’t just uncovered a huge piece of information.

“Sir-”

“Which is why you’re going to continue...seeing Rogers. Your undercover assignment has just been extended until further notice.”

“But, sir!” You stood up in protest.

“But nothing, Agent. You’ve made your bed and you’ve already lied in it. Now do it again.” He snapped.

“Are you pimping me out, sir?”

“You did that yourself, Y/N.” Fury snarked. “Anyway, as we speak I have other agents creating an entire new identity for you on the internet so when Roger’s does eventually look you up he’ll find everything we want him to find.”

You felt yourself sinking back down into the chair. He was being completely serious. You suddenly felt very hot as you processed all the information coming at you.

“And what exactly is it going to say?”

“That you are Y/N Monroe. You are the same age as you are now and a barista at the coffee shop just below your apartment. You went to the University of Minnesota and graduated with a business degree, but currently can’t find any jobs. Pity. Your parents died when you were young and you have no siblings-no need to wrap anyone else up in this. We’ve made an Instagram account since that seems to be the most popular app among adults your age. I pushed for no socials but apparently it’s weirder if you don’t have one.”

“Okay...but I don’t have a coffee shop below my apartment.”

“You do now. Your stuff is being moved into a safe house apartment on the other side of town. That’s where you’ll be staying for now. Don’t worry, I have Parker holed up in the apartment two doors down.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down. There was nothing else you could do. Fury was right, you had made your bed. You reached over and grabbed the file that Fury had pushed towards the front of the desk. Your new life all put together in a Manila folder.

Damn you, Ma and your slutty advice.

“You can go now.” Fury waved you away, now totally focused on whatever file he had in front of him. You hesitated, wanting to say something but nothing came so you left.

“Y/N!” Peter ran up beside you as you stormed down the hallway. “Heard we’re gonna be neighbors.”

You smiled at how excited he was. “It’s only temporary, Parker. Don’t wet your pants.”

Peter blushed and gently shoved you to the side as you both continued walking. “I know that. But doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. We could have movie nights or something.”

“I suppose we could find some time.” You nudged him back.

“Oh here, before I forget.” Peter shoved a brand new iPhone into your hand. “Fury had me add some tweaks to the geo location so it’s more precise than what Apple has. My burner number is already programmed in there too.”

You studied the burner phone, impressed that they didn’t just give you another shitty tracfone like you were used to.

“Thanks, kid.”

“I’m not that much younger than you.” Peter grumbled as the two of you finally made it to the parking structure.

You smirked over your shoulder as you walked up to your Jeep Wrangler. “Young enough. ‘Night, kid!”

Peter flipped you off but was smiling the whole time as you drove off.

You punched in your new address in the GPS and followed along as it brought you to the older part of town. You had always loved this part of the city but never thought to move out here. Even though it wasn’t the new upcoming neighborhood, the rent prices had been driven up by the young kids moving in who just “adored the old time aesthetic” and the lofted buildings.

Your building was one of those you noted as you parked your car outside of your new address. The old brick building was tall, maybe six stories and had fire escapes littered across the front of it. The front door was a rusted green that you had to yank to budge to get open.

Extra security, I suppose. You laughed to yourself.

Your apartment was on the third floor and right off the freight elevator. You weren’t expecting much when you opened the door but you made a noise of pleasant surprise when you did.

The inside was warm and inviting. A plush gray sofa that resembled a cloud was center in your living room that you saw right away from the small entry hallway. As you stepped in further you saw a decent size tv mounted against the wall and two bookshelves on either side of it, filled with books and records that went along with the record player that was right underneath the television. To the left the living room was the kitchen. Nothing big, which you didn’t mind-you weren’t the best cook in the world. There was a small bar-like counter that had two barstools perched underneath. Down the small hallway you found your bedroom. A king sized bed covered in an off white comforter set with matching sheets. Small potted plants hung from the corner near the window and an array of makeup and perfumes littered the top of the wooden dresser.

Tentatively you opened the dressers to find a whole new wardrobe waiting for you. There were basics: such as t-shirts, jeans, bras and panties but there was also a whole drawer dedicated to skimpy lingerie that you knew was expensive. The walk-in closet was filled with dresses, some formal and some you wouldn’t let your grandmother even see hanging off the rack.

“Well done, Fury.” You mumbled to yourself as your fingers ran down the silk fabric of a long evening gown.

You were settling on to your couch, sweats on and a glass of wine in your hand when you heard a knock on the door. Slowly you got up, grabbing your gun from the plant next to the door. You looked through the peephole and let out a curse when you saw none other than Steve Rogers standing outside your apartment.

You shoved the gun back into the plant and ran your fingers through your hair before opening the door, but leaving the chain attached.

“Mr. Rogers, how can I help you?” Your eyes twinkled as the man in front of you rested his arm on the top of the door frame and leaned close to the opening you had created.

“You said I would see you soon, princess. Looks like soon is now.” The nickname again caused your stomach to flutter.

“I was just getting ready for bed. You’ll have to come by another time.” You feigned a yawn. Steve’s eyes blared as he stood up straight.

“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Miss Monroe.” Your heart jumped at the use of your alias. Thank god your team worked fast.

“And it’s rude to show up to people’s apartments unannounced, Mr. Rogers.”

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He hissed, but his eyes held anything but anger. He was intrigued. He never found a woman before who wasn’t afraid to dish back his sass. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Say please.” You teased through the opening.

“Please.” He said through gritted teeth.

Chuckling you closed the door gently and undid the chain. Before you could reopen it though, Steve pushed his way through scooping you up in his arms as he did. You naturally wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms held tight around him as you squealed against his neck.

He walked you back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding you so you were still straddling him.

You pulled away but kept your arms hanging loosely around him. He smirked up at you as his fingers toyed with the hem of the tank top you had on. His eyes fell to the wine that was only half drank on your coffee table.

“Heading off to bed soon, huh?”

“My bedtime snack.”

There was a part of your brain that recognized him for who he was: evil. But another part of your brain saw him as the man who made your body feel things that it had never felt before and that had your heart racing like a schoolgirl with a crush. The part that recognized that he was so easy to talk and joke with. The great sex wasn’t a bummer either.

His smirk was replaced by a genuine smile as he pulled you down and gave you a kiss that had your toes curling. He moaned into your mouth as you slowly ground your hips against his, your fingers tugging at the hair by his neck. His tongue massaged yours, letting you know exactly who was in charge at this moment. His hands ran underneath your tank top, fingers tracing up your spine before reaching the front and giving your nipples a slight twist.

He moved his mouth from yours and peppered kisses along the side of your neck as he lifted the tank top over your head. He threw it to the side as his mouth attached to your protruding bud while his fingers pinched and toyed with the other one. Skillfully, and with his mouth still attached to you, Steve flipped you over so your back was on the couch and he was on top of you. He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with lust as he started kissing down from the center of your chest, down your stomach and down your legs as he pulled your sweats along with him.

He hummed as he spread your bottom lips apart with his fingers, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. You wiggled your hips against his face but he responded with a smack against your core.

“Honey, you gotta learn who’s in charge here and who’s-“ he kissed your clit ever so slightly, teasing you. “Just a little cock slut.”

His tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while fingers toyed with your slick. Gently he pushed two fingers into your pussy. Your eyes fluttered closed as his steady rhythm and flick of his tongue brought your orgasm to the forefront.

“Shit, Steve…” you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him close. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”

“Let me taste you, princess.” Steve growled. You nearly lost it at the sigh of your juices dripping from his chin. “Give it to me like the good girl you are.”

“Oh god!” You called out as he hit that spongy spot that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. Your body spasmed as it rode out your orgasm. Your chest heaving and your legs shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. A moan was caught in your throat as you watched him put his soaked fingers between his lips, a look of pure satisfaction covering his perfect face.

Steve leaned his body over yours but careful not to let his full weight fall on you. He ran his nose up the side of your neck, along your cheek before letting it rub against your own. You grabbed his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. There was something so erotic about tasting yourself when your tongues met.

“Show me your bedroom?” Steve pulled away. You gave a weak nod. Steve stood up and hoisted you up, your legs weak beneath you.

“Poor baby.” He cooed in your ear. “Only one orgasm down and already can’t walk. I can’t imagine how you’ll be when I’m done with you.”

With that he lifted you and walked down your short hallway to the bedroom. In your hazy, post orgasm mind you hoped the mattress was comfy. You hadn’t even tested out beforehand.

Steve threw you on the bed and you sighed as you fell into the cloud. You leaned back on your elbows and watched as Steve unbuttoned the new shirt and trousers he had on. You stifled your laughter thinking about the wine stained ones back at his house.

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed. He lifted your foot up, setting it over his shoulder as he kissed the inside of your calf.

“No, sir.” You teased.

“You’re a bad liar.” He nipped at your knee.

Not as bad as you might think.

Steve made you come at least four more times that night. Your body completely spent when he finally rolled over and laid next to you, yours and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You rolled over and threw your leg and arm over his body, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Steve’s fingers toyed with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Spend the night?” You asked into the darkness. It was nearly three in the morning and your eyes were slowly closing no matter how much you willed them to stay open.

“I have some business things that I have to take care of early in the morning.” He answered, his fingers running up and down your arm.

“Oh, okay.” You said sadly. Steve’s chest rumbled with light laughter as he brought your hand that was in his up to his lips and gave it a kiss. You were soon realizing that he was actually a very affectionate person.

“But I want you to come back to the house tomorrow. I’ll send one of my guys for you in the afternoon.”

“Really?” You sat up. Steve blindly reached for your nightstand and turned on the lamp that was on it. His hair was tousled from the numerous times you had run your fingers through it and his lips were red and swollen. He looked like the epitome of sex and it was fucking hot.

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. He grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand and held it out for you to unlock. You did quickly and he took it back and started typing. “I don’t give out my personal number to a lot of people.”

“So I’m special.” You wiggled in your spot, a grin covering your face.

“Yes. You are.” Steve looked back at you and you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. He handed your phone back to you and you laughed at the name he had for his contact: Steve Rogers and an eggplant emoji.

“You’re a child.” You giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of bed and you took the time to appreciate his bum as he walked over to get his pants.

You gathered the soft sheets in your hand and brought them up to your chest. Although you weren’t sure what you were trying to hide, he had seen it all.

Once he was dressed and you slipped on a robe that you found hanging behind the door, you walked him out. He stood in your doorframe, his large figure making the space seem very small. He smiled as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your head and leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“Make sure to lock all the doors behind me. And text me when you wake up tomorrow.” He demanded softly.

“Mmmkay, I will.” You said hazily.

“Go get some sleep, princess.” He laughed as he pushed away from the door and walked to the elevator. You watched as he got in and gave you a quick wave before whipping out his phone to make a call.

Once he was out of sight you closed the door softly, making sure to bolt everything before heading back to your bed. You were too tired to even clean up before you passed out.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

So...Misery style, how would you make Tomione work? (Or how would you do a Tomione story?)

Thanks, Anon, this might be harder than the Dramione one.

Well, again, to please my deranged captor, I'd likely follow the plot of your standard Tomione fic and hope it passes muster. "Oh yeah, Hermione's back in time and she's doing back and forth mind games with Tom and it's really intellectual." With any luck, my feet aren't smashed into oblivion.

But I think you're trying to get at what I would really do if I really had to write Tom/Hermione and I had to make it something I would read. At least, that seems to be the spirit of this ask.

So, we're going the thriller route people. A lot like Misery, actually.

Instead of Ginny, twelve-year-old Hermione picks up the diary. Like Ginny, Hermione quickly becomes besotted with Tom Riddle trapped inside. However, unlike Ginny, Hermione goes straight to the library and starts asking pesky questions.

Hermione's never heard of memories stored in objects before, the theory behind portraits and pensieves are completely different, what spells did Tom use and where did he find them? Did Tom Riddle invent an entirely new branch of magic at the age of 16 without anyone noticing? What was Tom's special service to the school?

Tom starts sweating when it becomes clear that Hermione's stumbling a bit too close to the truth (that this is not ordinary magic and highly dangerous shit) and that she's clearly going to start asking around about Tom Riddle (to Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid, who were all near Hogwarts at the same time Tom was going to school).

Tom confesses that he may have created the diary using something very... illegal. Hermione is appalled and asks if it was gasp dark magic! He admits it is but points out it's a bit late now, like it or not, he's stuck in the diary and running to Dumbledore isn't going to make that go away any time soon. And it wasn't like Tom asked to be shoved in a diary either.

Hermione's very conflicted, on the one hand, Tom's the first real intellectual friend she's ever had. Harry and Ron are nice, but they're morons and they thinks he's a nerd. Tom encourages her intellectual pursuits and confirms her concern over various what not and what have you happening in Hogwarts.

Eventually, Hermione decides that Tom in the diary can't help being a diary (though the other Tom, the real Tom, she'd have words with), and decides that she'll try to help him get a body.

Great, that's great, Tom says.

But it keeps getting worse.

Tom tries to possess Hermione, but unlike Ginny, Hermione knows that Tom is a dangerous, dark, artifact. If she's suffering negative health effects, losing her memory and ending up in the girl's lavatory, she's going to research this and decide that either a) she's suffering ill effects of using dark magic b) she just got possessed by Tom.

Either way, she tells him she can't use the diary anymore, it's affecting her health and she must research. Well, Hermione researching does Tom no fucking good, but he can't stop her.

The Chamber of Secrets, as a result, is never opened.

Instead, Hermione continues researching, and Harry and Ron... begin to get on her nerves. It's not like last year, there's no Flamel to research, no over-arching mystery, and they seem to be growing tired of her. In turn, Hermione's getting a little tired of quidditch, getting detention, etc.

She's a little tired of Hogwarts, if she's being honest with herself.

Hermione's now had a taste of having a friend who isn't there to simply use her brains. And it's very addicting. She decides not to tell Ron and Harry about Tom, they'd just get needlessly concerned (the irony of this isn't lost on her but what can you do)

In the end, she opens back up the diary, and point blank asks what Tom needs to get a body. Before Tom can tell her, Hermione lists out her own theories. Life cannot be created from nothing, golems and puppets cannot last in the long term, to get a real body... human sacrifice is on the table, isn't it?

Well shit, Tom thinks to himself. He tries to assure Hermione it isn't but ends up confessing that, well, yes, it kind of is.

They have another huge row about it, Hermione slams the diary shut, but the wheels in her brain are spinning.

Does anyone deserve to die?

Hermione, at first, adamantly tells herself the answer is no. No one deserves to be sacrificed. Tom's fate is cruel, but the original Tom made his bed and should lie in it. It's unfortunate, but that's just life. Not the diary's fault, of course, but nothing that can be helped.

But then she keeps thinking about it.

Malfoy struts through the school like a peacock, sneering every time he sees her, laughing every time Snape deducts points from her in Potions for being a 'smarmy know-it-all'. Every time he can get away with it he's shoving her in hallways, calling her a mudblood, and assuring her that she's worth less than the dirt beneath her feet.

She watches as Malfoy torments and bullies Harry, she looks at Draco's father, and she asks herself if the world would really be so much worse off if Draco Malfoy were to disappear?

Draco Malfoy's being groomed to use dark magic, he practically brags about it at every opportunity, why is his life worth more than Tom Riddle's, someone who has paid the price for dark magic?

Isn't Hermione, in a roundabout way, only giving Draco what he deserves? The fate he'd meet at some point in the not so distant future?

Draco does something phenomenally cruel and stupid to the trio, likely to Harry, and that settles it. Hermione's going to murder that motherfucker and get Tom Riddle a body.

Hermione tells Tom the plan, she's passing off the diary to Draco, she has her full blessing, her permission, and whatever help he requires from her to eat Draco Malfoy alive.

Tom is unwillingly impressed, he was a vicious gremlin as a twelve-year-old, but even he wasn't committing murder in cold blood.

Tom's not sure how he feels about murdering a Malfoy, that's bound to get noticed, but Hermione's unyielding. Draco Malfoy, or Hermione goes to Dumbledore.

So, Draco Malfoy it is.

The rest of the year is spent with Tom Riddle murdering Draco Malfoy and coming up with some excuse for his disappearance. The chamber isn't opened as Hermione reminds Tom that this would make it entirely too obvious who is behind this. Instead, Tom likely has Draco partake in increasingly erratic schemes to humiliate Harry Potter that end up endangering himself.

Near the end of school, Draco disappears into the Forbidden Forest to find acromantulas to put in Potter's bed and... never comes back.

A huge search is put on, Draco Malfoy is never found, and the acromantula infestation in the forest is now actively battled by ministry employees. Dumbledore is sacked as headmaster, Hagrid fired for having been responsible for the acromantulas in the first place, and Hogwarts is closed the following year.

Hermione is... conflicted about all of this. She certainly didn't mean to fire Hagrid (had no idea he was even remotely involved with the acromantulas) and certainly not Dumbledore. It wasn't Dumbledore's fault at all.

Tom, who is now a free man but has no idea what to do with himself, meets up with Hermione and points out that Dumbledore should have been sacked ages ago: he let kids get away with this stupidly dangerous shit and the year before actively endangered his students and lured a dark wizard into the castle. As for Hagrid, he raised a dragon illegally on school grounds, did release his pet acromantula into the wild, and more. They were terrible at their jobs.

Hermione, ever so reluctantly, agrees.

It's too bad though, Hagrid was very nice and Dumbledore's a great wizard (don't even get Tom started).

As for Tom, well, he had such dreams. Of course he planned to either meet up with his glorious self or (upon learning that Voldemort was blown up by a toddler) take the mantle of Voldemort for himself. But now that he's out, he has no idea where to start. Murder Harry Potter, certainly, but after that?

Tom only has the vaguest idea of who the original Death Eaters were, and they seem to have effectively scattered. More, how does he go about this? Sure, Tom had ideas when he was in school, but they were just ideas. He's never led a revolution before, has no idea how to impersonate an older, more knowledgeable, version of himself. He barely understands the political climate in this new, post-Voldemort, Britain.

Tom keeps hanging around Hermione because, well, inertia. He has no idea what else to do. (Hermione, while still torn over the consequences of her actions as well as the distant thought that she enabled murder, is quite delighted to have him around).

Tom tries to wheedle Harry's address out of Hermione and gets a lot more information than he bargained for. Harry lives with abusive muggle relatives, Dumbledore is apparently keeping him there, all of this sounds bizarre. Tom is officially weirded out.

Still wants to murder Harry, of course, but also wants to dig into this a little further...

And before this becomes a full on fic outline, eventually this will lead to the murder of Dumbledore, probably the murder of Ron when Ron inadvertently discovers 'the truth', Hermione telling Tom they're now an item, Tom trying to escape the relationship, only to learn there's no escaping Hermione.

Hermione becomes the next dark lord. Tom has no idea how this even happened.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (3/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 1.5k

After an exhausting day, Bucky just wanted to go home, have a drink and pass out in his bed. But of course, he had to forget his keys and phone in his office. He debated going back to the club because he knew you were going to be there. 

It wasn't like he was avoiding you, he just prevented going to places where he knew you'd be present. He stayed in his office or was just absent from the club during your shifts. Well, maybe he was avoiding you.

He was an ass to you, which he usually didn't care about because he was an ass to everyone. But for some unexplained reasons, he felt bad after being mean to you. When you walked in with your kind of a shitty story with a lot of plot holes about how you wanted to change scenery, he assumed you were sent by his enemy, Rumlow.

All it took was one background check for him to figure out you weren't lying. What he couldn't figure out was why you'd leave a perfect job in a big city and move to a smaller one and work in a club. 

He didn't need anything when he walked into that store. James Buchanan Barnes is one of the richest people in the town, of course, he had people to do mundane chores for him. He came to that store for you. He needed to apologize to you. Not only that, but he felt something weird in his stomach like he had bad hot dogs, but this was worse. It was his guilt eating him up and stealing his sleep. 

But Bucky Barnes did not feel guilty, not for some girl that threw her perfect life away for a bartender job. So he offered the job to you, simply because you wanted it so much. Maybe his approach was not ideal, but he was trying. He also didn't exactly offer it to you, but he did give it to you and left, hoping that you'd come to his club and take the job, which you did.

He would drop extra tips on your counter every now and then. He would make sure that you do not have to serve their rough customers. Likewise, he was sure Wanda and Pietro could handle anything thrown in their way like drunk touchy customers, drunk flirty customers, drunk angry customers. Furthermore, he made sure you got the busy business customers that are there for work.

It's not like he didn't think you couldn't protect yourself, but again, he barely knew you. Honestly, there wasn't much to dig about you either. You didn't lie about your college and work, and that was enough for him to believe you weren't some double agent sent to spy on him and his business. 

Still, he didn't like you. He didn't like how you were always sweet and polite to customers. He didn't like how you joked with Peter and how your eyes lit up when you laughed at something that Wanda said. Not only that, but he didn't like that his family and friends trusted you enough to hang out with you. You weren't a spy, but you could still be some sort of hypnotizing witch by the way everyone liked you in an instant. Mostly, he didn't like how he felt after getting a glimpse of you. He didn't like that he was so intrigued by you and how he wanted to know you. He didn't like how his eyes would linger on you during daily CCTV camera inspection a little longer than necessary.

Bucky just wanted to get his stuff and go back to his place as soon as possible. He didn't expect anything when he walked through the door, he specifically didn't expect his nemesis assaulting his employee.

After shoving Rumlow out of his club and away from you, the mob boss instantly made his way towards you. Bucky didn't know how to approach or console you. He couldn't touch you, he was aware that you wouldn't react positively to a man replacing the touch of a man who forced you. 

He stretched out his open palms towards you in surrender and submission, hoping that you'd realize he wasn't going to attack you.

"Hey, y/n." He gently called for you.

You flinched, but when you recognized the voice, you reluctantly opened your eyes to find his blue ones and outstretched palms in front of you.

"Hey, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Carefully, you placed your hands in his, and he held yours very lightly like he was scared that you'd break. Maybe he wasn't wrong. Softly, he started running his thumb in circles on your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, closing your eyes in regret.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have worn this," you could feel the tears streaming down your face, but you didn't want to face him. "It's all my fault "

In your head, you were convinced it was your fault and Mr. Barnes, your boss, is going to yell at you and fire you. You were preparing yourself for another blow that never came. 

"Hey, y/n. Please look at me."

Unwillingly, you did. 

"You listen to me very carefully. It wasn't your fault. The only person at fault here was that fucking asshole."

Bucky knew it was your trauma talking. He never forgot the resilient girl that kept dropping random movie references in a conversation with a mob boss. He thought maybe you didn't know, but both of you knew you were not naïve. He couldn't let your susceptible brain convince that strong girl that it was her fault, he desperately needed you to know it wasn't.

"No, I shouldn't have-"

"It's not your fault," he told you carefully, still maintaining eye contact. He knew you were in a vulnerable state, and he should not push you, but he also knew that your mind is going to conjure up stuff to deal with trauma. He couldn't let your mind justify a heinous, vile act of a monster. "Do you understand that?"

Begrudgingly, you nodded, and Bucky finally let a breath out he knew he was holding.

"Is there someone I can contact? A partner or a family member?"

You shook your head and took your hand away from his grasp.

"Okay, so here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take you home and we are going to talk about this in the morning. We'll take further steps when you're feeling a little better," he planned. "Does this sound okay?"

Bucky understood your nod as a yes and proceeded further," Doll, you gotta let me in, please. I can't take you home if you don't talk to me."

You blinked a few times, trying to ground yourself. Finally, you took your phone out of your back pocket and handed him the device with your address on the screen. He took it from you and without saying another word he started moving towards the door and you followed.

The mob boss would never accept this to anyone, but he frequently kept looking over his shoulder until you were seated in his car. He kneeled down and put the seatbelt on you before making his way towards the driver's seat, but when you flinched at the contact of his skin with yours, it made his heart ache.

The car ride was silent, which you didn't know whether to appreciate or not. On one hand, silence can be deafening, leaving you alone with your thoughts. On the other hand, noises can be annoying. So you settled with humming a Taylor Swift song and Bucky didn't say anything. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but every 5 seconds he would glance your way.

After reaching your home, Bucky stayed in the living room while you got dressed in your bedroom. You called for him when you were finally settled in the comfort of the silk bedsheet you brought last week. Bucky tucked you in bed, making sure that you were comfortable and he was about to leave, but you broke the silence at last.

"What happens next?" you asked.

"If you feel comfortable, then we'll talk about this tomorrow," he informed you. "But I swear to God, doll, I will make him suffer for what he did to you."

You didn't know what that meant, so you just nodded.

"I'm going to lock the door behind me, doll. Sleep well." 

"Please stay," you murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

You didn't know whether he heard you or not. You didn't know whether he stayed or not, even if he heard you. You were too tired to check and before you knew it you were already asleep.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams  @akkinda10​

[my-pink-yandere]

❤Obsession❤

Prompt: Yandere Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki (separately) has a crush on Y/N...who is actually obsessed over a fictional character.

C/N: Character Name

Warnings: Yandere Tendencies, Swearing, Also this is sorta long cause I wrote a lot ;-; 

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

❥ This boy is angered when he finds out about this

❥ Like wow he’s super pissed

❥ If you’re unfortunate enough to ever have a Yandere Bakugou take a liking to you, when he realizes that you’re obsessing over someone who isn't him, a fictional character nonetheless, he’s... well...

❥ “Very upset” would be an understatement

❥ He sees that as basically losing to a person who doesn’t even exist

❥ The chaos begins when he’s in the middle of his daily routine of admiring staring at you from afar, and when you stand up with one of your friends and begin walking out of the cafeteria, he hears a few... interesting statements escape your mouth as you pass him by

❥ “I can’t believe you actually like them, Y/N! You’re totally hopeless when it comes to love, huh?” His head was tilted your way, seeing your friend looking disappointed and you looking flustered. “It’s not my fault they're so perfect!” you answered, practically radiating embarrassment. He smirked, assuming you were talking about him. I mean, who else would you get so worked u about>

❥ “Besides, I’m not the only one who simps for C/N! So shh-”

❥ ...

❥ All that’s going through Bakugou’s head right now is why that name wasn't his

❥ He’s gone eerily still, and all of his friends sort of stop and look at him

❥ “Bakubro? You good-”

❥ Bakusquad is going to have to hold Katsuki back from blowing up the entire cafeteria

❥ This b*tch only sees red rn

❥ ‘WHO’S THE PERSON YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT AND WHERE CAN I FIND THEM SO I CAN BREAK THEIR F*CKING KNEECAPS’

❥ he got murder on his mind :0

❥ Despite how angered Bakugou is, he’s not a complete dumbass, believe it or not

❥ He’s not going to confront you about it, at least not right now.

❥ Once he calms tf down, he’ll come to his senses and have his top priority being to get rid the competition first, meaning he has to hunt down whoever C/N is and delete them from existence

❥ When he learns that C/N is actually a fictional character from some anime tbh he just feels extra insulted

❥ You chose a f*cking fictional character over him >:(

❥ It’s now where he begins to get even angrier when he realizes how easy it should’ve been for him to notice sooner. All the stickers on your school supplies, the pins on your bags, how you’d sometimes sneak in their merchandise to show off to your friends at lunch

❥ It was when he overheard you possibly owning a body pillow where he went feral

❥ Will go out of his way to steal your shit and burn all of your merchandise of C/N, or anything that would remind you of the character

❥ He’d catch you when you were alone, and would shove you off your feet as he’d grab your bag and roughly go through it, angrily tearing off the stickers on your notebooks and pins off your bag as your crying and screaming at him to stop

❥ At this point he doesn’t care about how you feel about this at all. It’s never even crossed his mind (blind rage)

❥ His plan is to pluck C/N out of your life, replacing all your thoughts of them with just him, so you’re only thinking of him

❥ It doesn't matter to him if they're good thoughts or bad thoughts

❥ All that matters is that you’re thinking of him

❥ Only him.

In a nutshell, he’s gonna steal all of your items that have any reference to C/N and get rid of it all. He doesn't care how much he’s hurting you by doing this, he’ll concern himself with your feelings later. He’s going to hang around you more despite your protests for him to just leave you alone, quite literally forcing his way into your life so that he infests himself into your brain and become the only thing you think about, so that you can truly understand how he feels about you.

💚Izuku Midoriya💚

❥ Bold of you to assume he doesn't already know about this “obsession” of yours

❥ This child takes notes on EVERYTHING and ANYTHING related to you, so he obviously knew about your love for this certain fictional character

❥ At first glance, he believes your obsession with C/N is similar to him with All Might- just an innocent but deep admiration for them

❥ He’ll buy you their merchandise and gift it to you at school (accompanied by some flowers and sweet little cards of course ❤)

❥ He was nervous to do this at first, his crush on you rendering him a stuttering, blushing mess whenever you so much as glanced his way, but he pushed through his anxiety just to see your cute smile and feel your warm hug when he gives you those gifts

❥ He cherishes those moments more than anything, to see you so happy

❥ (Especially because  it was him to make you so excited! Not Kirishima or Uraraka... him)

❥ He’ll binge the entire show as fast as he can and memorize everything he deems as important just so he can chat with you about it at school

❥ “Isn’t C/N so cool?” he asked you, and you had quickly turned to him with a surprised and then starry gaze. “Izuku, you like them too?!”

❥ You were both on a first name basis now ;D (You even gave him a little nickname: ‘Zuku. Let’s just say he was a bit more than ecstatic when you began referring to him in such an informal way. You must really like him! ❤)

❥ And Midoriya, being the delusional little yandere he is, sees this as you both basically dating

❥ You both hang out everyday at school, discussing the show and characters, who your favorites were, how the plot was going, etc.

❥ You see him as one of your closest friends now, and eventually you trust him enough to bring him to your house to chill without your family home ;0

❥ The thing was, Midoriya noticed how you would never invite anyone from school to your house, always brushing it off and just saying how your parents would get angry or how dirty your room was

❥ This was the first time you’d ever invited anyone from U.A. over to your house

❥ His thoughts were running wild as you both walked home together: ‘What’s Y/N’s house like? Will their parents be home? Why have they avoided anyone coming over until now? Have they only invited me because we’re dating? Are... are we going to kiss?????’

❥ (For clarification, even with the dorms in place, over the weekend you like to hang out at home where you’re more comfortable)

❥ “We can re-watch some of the episodes for awhile. I think I also have some snacks...” you grinned, and he memorized every detail of your house as you both made your way to your room

❥ He was greeted with a room filled entirely with C/N merchandise, but caught his attention the quickest was your bed

❥ You had a body pillow of C/N

❥ Now Midoriya, like I said before, is a very delusional yandere

❥ He has excuses for literally everything you do. You love him just as much as he loves you after all!

❥ But this

❥ This he cannot ignore

❥ He was just staring at the pillow with a blank face as his eye twitched

❥ “’Zuku? What's wrong?”

❥ “Hmm?” he hummed, turning towards you. “Oh, nothing! It’s just, um, your pillow...”

❥ You felt your face catch on fire as you moved to block his view as you tried to quickly shove it under your bed. “UHM, HAHA SORRY ‘BOUT THAT I FORGOT IT WAS THERE-”

❥ Midoriya was quiet as he watched you struggle at hiding the pillow

❥ He was thinking

❥ He loved All Might a lot, but he’d never buy a body pillow of him

❥ What type of love did you have for C/N?

❥ “Hey Y/N?” You turned to look at him, but the moment your eyes met you felt a shiver run down your back. Izuku was smiling at you, but his whole vibe was different...

❥ ‘Was he angry?’

❥ “Why don’t we watch a different series today?”

In a nutshell, he’d go along with your character obsession up until you cross the line, and that would be either him finding out about you reading fan fiction of C/N, a body pillow of them, or some... questionable fan art you have of them saved on your phone. Then he’d do anything in his power to distance you from that show, hiding your merchandise and distracting you with more hero-related hobbies, like geeking over pro heroes or training. Just please stop simping over C/N. You’re making the smol boi jealous of a fictional character :( Why can’t you just pay attention to him a bit more?

❄️Shoto Todoroki🔥

❥ Tbh he doesn't really acknowledge your love for this certain character for awhile

❥ All he focuses on is that you look really happy and cute when you talk about this show

❥ That’s all that really matters to him 😊

❥ Similar to Izuku, he’ll buy you all of their merchandise just to see you all adorable and excited

❥ And Todoroki is a rich boi so that’s a plus

❥ Will probably buy u all the expensive merchandise and you’ll just be 🥺️💞💞💞

❥ The only reason he never really gets angry is because he doesn't understand what's so terrible about your little obsession with the show/character

❥ He just sees it as a little hobby of yours that you’re really passionate about

❥ Despite his cold demeanor, Shoto is always trying his best to support anything you do

❥ While he can get very intense as a yandere, we gotta remember this is Shoto we’re talking about

❥ He probably has no clue what simping even is

❥ He only gets bothered when you own a body pillow or compliment C/N looks too much (he doesn’t appreciate you getting so worked up over someone who isn’t him... even though you both aren’t technically dating)

❥ But he wont flip out like Midoriya or Bakugou

❥ If you both are on the couch at the dorms and you're just going on and on about C/N he’d prob just like-

❥ Reach over and grab your hand and just state how cute you are

❥ He’s a bit of an idiot when it comes to flirting, but he notices that whenever he touches you in an affectionate way you sort of freeze up and forget what you're talking about for a few seconds

❥ Because of how supportive Shoto’s been you sorta developed feelings as well 

❥ Cause I mean who wouldn't ;)

❥ He becomes your close supportive weeb friend :D (even if he doesn’t completely understand what a weeb is...) 

❥ But Todoroki doesn't like that title that much

❥ But he’ll take it slow because he loves you and wants you to love him back :)

❥ “I like it when you smile like that, Y/N.”

In a nutshell, Yandere Todoroki is prob the calmest of the three. He doesn't understand how simping works and the idea of you passionately loving a fictional character more than him has never crossed his mind. But he uses your love of the show to get closer to you. Closer and closer and closer-

Until maybe he can just be the one to make you smile, and not just that character from the show :)

[delicioussshame]

And now, for something a bit different. Set in the Sugar Baby AU.

Shang Qinghua cannot believe Shen Yuan’s gall. How can he, a very unproductive member of society, dares to criticize Shang Qinghua’s output? At least he contributes something, unlike some people who are paid to look pretty.

And, apparently, do more than that now.

Good for him, really. Shang Qinghua has heard his fair share of horror stories about Luo Binghe, but since Shen Yuan cannot stop singing his praises in that oblivious way of his, he cannot be that bad.

Plus, you know, Luo Binghe is very, very hot. Hot enough that even Shen Yuan, famous for his ability to ignore even the most blatant double entendre, cannot deny it. Shang Qinghua can imagine much worst fates than having to fuck him.

Now, if Shang Qinghua could get him to share all the juicy details, he’s sure it would make for great inspiration.

Not that there is much chance of that happening, not with the way Shen Yuan clams up as soon as Shang Qinghua so much as hints about his sex life.

Shen Yuan is a hypocrite, that’s what he is. He sure isn’t shy about complaining about Shang Qinghua’s sex scenes, or every aspect of Shang Qinghua’s writing.

Well, Shang Qinghua isn’t going to let him get away with it. He’s going to hear about it too! He just has to-

“What are you doing.”

Shang Qingua drops his phone in his haste to shove it down his pockets, so he gets to scramble under his desk like an idiot right in front of his boss. Fucking great. “Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything!”

Mobei-Jun’s angry growl has no right to be this sexy. “You’re supposed to be working. Get to it.”

Shang Qinghua sits back at his desk as fast as possible, randomly pulling a file off his desk while opening one excel spreadsheet or another. “I will! I’ll do it! I’m doing it now! I’m sorry!” That’s what Shang Qinghua gets for maintaining an acquaintance with an old friend who doesn’t have to worry about office hours.

Then again, this is kind of his job? Mobei-Jun wanted him to keep an eye out for anything useful on Luo Binghe, so he’s technically not slacking! “Actually, I was just messaging Shen Yuan, trying to get the info you asked for! He’s not very open, but I’m working on it!” He doesn’t think Shen Yuan will ever give him something Mobei-Jun would benefit from, but not for the reasons he’d think. From the way Shen Yuan complains about Luo Binghe’s general disinterest in the business he’s somehow managing like he was born into it, which he very much wasn’t, it wouldn’t even cross Luo Binghe’s mind to keep Shen Yuan informed on the ins and outs.

So Shang Qinghua is trying to find a way to get Shen Yuan to ask for said intel, cause he has a feeling Luo Binghe would tell him everything without a second thought. For someone who decided to pay their sex partner instead of wooing them, which someone like Luo Binghe could certainly have managed, he seems utterly besotted.

“Can’t we just pay him for it? He’s fine with being a whore; why wouldn’t he accept cash for info?”

Shang Qinghua winces and ducks instinctively to evade the slap Shen Yuan would have given him if he’d called him a whore in his presence. “It’s not quite like that. Shen Yuan’s relationship with Luo Binghe is complicated. Yes, Luo Binghe is paying for him, but from what I’ve gathered, it was more to skip the wooing and get to the good parts faster.” At least that’s what Shang Qinghua thinks happened. Shen Yuan, again, isn’t the most open about the details.

Plus, Shang Qinghua can’t say it didn’t work. Luo Binghe managed to get Shen Yuan living with him and doing nothing but being available to him 24/7. That has to count as a success.

Mobei-Jun seems baffled. “You can do that?”

Shang Qinghua shrugs. “Most people wouldn’t be into it, but I can get behind it. If someone with Luo Binghe’s wealth and looks told me they wanted to finance my lifestyle in exchange of sex, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Good life, here I come!”

Shang Qinghua then remembers he’s talking to his boss and not one of his former college buddies. “Ha ha, not that I really would! I am devoted to my job! I wouldn’t leave it, so please don’t fire me!” He needs the money to live!

“I’d pay you.”

Shang Qinghua startles for a second, before his brain catches up to reality. “Ha ha, that’s a funny joke, Boss.” He doesn’t know why Mobei-Jun chose now to try to develop a sense of humor, but he’s not surprised that when he decides to do so, it’s at Shang Qinghua’s expense.

“Not a joke.” Mobei-Jun takes out his wallets and pulls out what has to be at least a couple thousands yuan, which he waves in the air almost threateningly. “Take it.”

Shang Qinghua is utterly flummoxed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Shang Qinghua leans over the desk and tentatively takes the money.

In exchange, strong arms grab his waist, lifts him off the chair he was just sitting him like he could do it in his sleep, settles him on the desk and kisses him until Shang Qinghua has to push him back to breathe, because he cannot use his nose and his mouth at the same time right now. Not enough brain cells left.

“The hell?” says Shang Qinghua with all the eloquence he has left.

Then, his brain catches up with his mouth. If, for some unfathomable reason, Mobei-Jun has decided Shang Qinghua was worthy of him spending his money, Shang Qinghua will do the smartest thing he’s ever done and let him.

Why Mobei-Jun just didn’t use his words and tell Shang Qinghua he wanted him, Shang Qinghua will probably never know. It’s not like Shang Qinghua would have told him no. No matter what Shen Yuan says, he’s not stupid. The embodiment of all his fantasies wants to fuck him? Shang Qinghua is into that.

Oh god, Shen Yuan. He’s going to have to explain to him that latest development, will he?

…Naaah. He doesn’t need to know for now.

Anyway, what is there to explain?

…Is there something to explain? Mobei-Jun hasn’t spoken since Shang Qinghua freed himself, so maybe he’s reconsidering? Shit, maybe Shang Qinghua is a terrible kisser? Is he a terrible kisser? Is Mobei-Jun reconsidering? Of course he’s reconsidering. He’s not stupid either.

This train of thoughts is stopped by Mobei-Jun’s growling, grabbing his shoulders, pushing him down on the desk and devouring his mouth.

Shang Qinghua probably isn’t a terrible kisser then! Yes! Also Mobei-Jun isn’t reconsidering, so double yes!

That’s a good thing, because he’s pretty certain he’s going to need the money to replace the shirt Mobei-Jun is apparently very offended by, if the way he ripped it off Shang Qinghua, sending buttons flying everywhere, can be believed. Not that he cares about the shirt. Mobei-Jun can destroy all of them if he wants to. Especially if it’s always following by Mobei-Jun’s teeth getting very familiar with his chest.

Or the rest of him. Mobei-Jun is so lucky Shang Qinghua is both incredibly thirsty for him and suffering from long-term celibacy. He’s definitely willing to go despite the aggressive lack of foreplay.

Not that he can imagine a moment where Mobei-Jun almost tearing his pants open to get his mouth on his cock wouldn’t be welcomed. Shang Qinghua is always down for that. Very, very down for that.

Shang Qinghua balls his hands into fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, to stop himself from holding Mobei-Jun’s head. Mobei-Jun might bite them off.

Shang Qinghua also bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. The building is nice enough, but Shang Qinghua can be very loud.  The last thing he wants is for some underling to come running and find them like this. He would feel guilty to have caused a death.

Soon enough, another pressing concern makes itself known. “Boss, ah, please, you should let me go.” Shang Qingqiu has never even dreamed of Mobei-Jun blowing him, but he sure doesn’t seem like the type to swallow, and he wants to keep his cock in working order. He might get to use it more later.

Mobei-Jun glares at him over his cock, which has no business being this hot. Shang Qinghua is sure he felt him twitch and leak on his tongue.

Hey, if Shang Qinghua is wrong and Mobei-Jun is the type to swallow, more power to him. Shang Qinghua isn’t exactly going to complain.

Shang Qinghua whites out when he finally comes, and then probably does so again when he opens his eyes and is faced with Mobei-Jun staring at him, a little whitish drop on the corner of his mouth.

Fuck, he just got blown by Mobei-Jun. When did his life become so great?

Mobei-Jun kisses him again with no less urgency, which Shang Qinghua can sympathize with. He hasn’t done anything for his poor boss, has he? Time to remediate that.

___________

Shang Qinghua blinks repeatedly, trying to keep himself awake after the many, many rounds he’s just gone through.

His back is going to hurt like hell, isn’t it? And not just his back. He’ll probably be out of commission for days.

Doesn’t matter. So worth it. Even if it was a one-time thing, it’d still be worth it.

Is it a one-time thing? Does Shang Qinghua still have a job? Two jobs?

He should ask, right? It’s probably the right time to do so. Even Mobei-Jun probably is in a good mood after getting laid. “Boss?”

Mobei-Jun makes a noise Shang Qinghua decides to interpret as encouragement for him to continue. “Am I your sugar baby now? Do I have to come to work tomorrow?”

Mobei-Jun frowns.

Well, the whole thing was pretty spontaneous. There is probably no plan.

“You’re working tomorrow.”

Ahh, too bad. Well, it was nice while it lasted.

“I have to get you a replacement before you go.”

Shang Qinghua straightens up. “Just to be clear, that’s because you’re going to bankroll me personally, right? Not because I just lost my job for being unprofessional, right?”

Mobei-Jun nods.

Success! Shang Qinghua just won at life! He'll finally get to write whatever he wants instead of what sells! And he’s got a scorching not-boyfriend on top of it! Take that, Shen Yuan! You’re not the only one who can attract crazy rich guys! “Am I moving in with you? Or are we just not-dating? I’ll do whatever you want, no problem! Or wear whatever you want, cause this shirt is so dead I’m not sure how I’m going to leave this room, but I don’t care! You can do it again if you want to!”

Mobei-Jun throws his blazer in Shang Qinghua’s face like he’s an especially rude shoujo manga love interest. “Put this on. I’ll get back to you for the details, but you’ll be moving in with me.”

“Okay! I’ll be waiting!” He’ll wait forever if he has to. So worth it.

He’ll have to remember to buy Shen Yuan something to thank him for making this possible.

He’ll probably order him a bunch of the weirdest sex toys he can find and have them delivered anonymously to Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan will thank him someday.

Okay, he never will, but Shang Qinghua will know in his heart he did right by his friend.

[aizawaorkuroo]

rain on me

Ship: Kitsune!Atsumu x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: As a sunshine girl, you’ve been blessed by a fox spirit. A spirit that you’re supposed to meet for the first time tonight.

Warnings: Creampie, Outdoor Sex, Biting, Breeding, Dumbification, Panty Sniffing, Interspecies sex lmao

AN: the is based off of the movie Weathering With You! Not gender neutral because reader is referred to as sunshine girl at times! Part 2 of my Valentines day special!

________________________

A fat drop of water hits your cheek, rolling down your skin as you groan. Your lips twist into a frown, eyes narrowed at the rapidly darkening sky. Based on the weather report, it really was supposed to still be sunny…

Yachi squeals jolt you back into reality, her little fist, tugging at your sleeve, while Tanaka throws his head back to glare at the sky.

“Fix it please!” he moans, eyeing the sky like he’s thinking about fighting it. You sigh, shoulders slumping before shutting your eyes in concentration. 

A delicate prayer, one you’ve prayed a thousand times before, enters your mind. Head bowed, you offer up the desires of your friends to the sky, hopes for a balmy breeze and warm sun. And as quickly as it came, the rain began to slow, clouds dispersing in the breeze.

Tanaka gives a holler, fist pumping in the air, while Yachi lets go of your sleeve, letting out a sigh.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she chirps, sending you a small smile. Looping her arm with yours she rests her head on your shoulder, giggling at Tanaka as he swings his arms around, lost in the story he was telling.

You smile softly at your friends, briefly eyeing the sky, and offering a small thanks. There are some days where a blue sky can change everything, it can lift spirits, bring joy, and you certainly weren’t gonna let it rain tonight, not during the festival everyone’s so excited for.

“Y/N!” Tanaka’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and he waggles his eyebrows. “I asked if you’re meeting your fox tonight.” You roll your eyes as Yachi makes a noise of excitement.

“I mean that’s the plan? I’ve never meant him in person though,” you sigh, face feeling warm. A large arm loops around your shoulder, forcing both you and Yachi closer to him.

“Yea, I’m sure you get up to a lot in those dreams.” Tanaka barks out a laugh, and you shove him away.

“It’s not like that! I’ve told you. He’s always a fox.” Yachi pets your arm, nodding in an understanding manner.

“Of course, Y/N. Of course.” You fume, pulling your arm away from her and crossing your arms.

“I’m not lying. Why would I lie about this?” She giggles, while Tanaka shakes his head.

“Will he be at the festival?” Your lips purse and you nod, eyes cast down.

“Yea, but I don’t know when or where,” you sigh. Tanaka strokes his chin in thought.

“Well, you’ll definitely know him when you see him. He marked you after all right?” Tanaka sounds so confident, so sure, and Yachi nods in agreement.

“He made you a sunshine girl and you talk with him all the time.”

Their confidence fills you with an electric excitement. You were finally going to meet your fox. You were going to meet Atsumu.  

Except he doesn’t show up.

Minutes slowly pile onto one another, adding up to hours. The sun dips down, and you’re left in the glow from the stalls, trying to ignore the way your stomach sinks and the looks your friends send you when they think you can’t see.

It’s embarrassing, mortifying, even. You had been so excited, chattering away about Atsumu, only for him to stand you up. And Tanaka and Yachi try to make you feel better, dragging you around to different stalls, paying for all sorts of snacks and treats. But after the 4th pity dessert, you excuse yourself, saying you need to take a walk.

The farther you walk away from the festival, the quieter it gets, the silence and cool air helping you clear your mind.

So what? You had been stood up. That happens all the time to people. But it's not every day the spirit who had blessed you breaks his promise. Your feet slow to a stop, and you bite your lip, trying to hold back the stinging tears that threaten to fall.

Your head tilts back, eyes taking in the cloudless sky. Would he have told you the same jokes he had in your dreams? Would he have bought you food? Would he even have money? Would he still help you bring the sun? You sigh wiping weakly at your eyes, before two golden eyes catch your attention.

A fox sits before you, tail swaying excitedly behind it. You crouch down before it, eyes widening as realization dawns on you.

“Are you my spirit? My kitsune?” you whisper, looking for any signs of recognition or intelligence. It blinks at you, head cocking to the side blankly. Warmth settles over you in an embarrassment. He stood you up; he wouldn’t show up now. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, even if you aren’t him.”

You rise brushing non-existent dirt off your thighs. Giving the fox a small wave before you turn your back.

You’ve taken maybe three steps before arms encircle your waist, and you’re held flush against something warm and hard.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” a low and somewhat familiar voice growls in your ear. You’re wiggling in his arms when he spins you, and you’re met with a new face that is way too close to yours But he’s handsome.

Blonde hair with dark roots, dreamy eyes, a smile that threatens to devour you alive. His yukata is half open, allowing your eyes easy access to his skin. You can see a tail flicker behind him in your peripheral, but you’re too focused on his eyes, how hypnotic they are. You swallow past the lump in your throat, taking in the two fuzzy fox ears that sit in his hair.

“Oh.”

His eyes widen, before his head tilts back, a burst of loud laughter filling the quiet air. Your stomach flips, and you try to squirm out of his arms, a bashful feeling overcoming you. But his hands curl into you, claws almost painful, but keeping you close. When his laughter subsides, he sends you another easy grin.

“You finally meet your almighty kitsune in the flesh, and all you can say is ‘oh.’” Hands settling against his chest, you blink dumbly at him, as recognition finally dawns on you.

It’s him.

You’ve heard him in your dreams so often, it’s utterly embarrassing you didn’t know soon enough, but it’s Atsumu. You cry out, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him against you. He nuzzles into you, laughing and tightening his hold.

“Hi.” It’s a whisper against your neck, and it sends a chill down your spine, reminding you of the impropriety of the position you’re in. You drop your arms, stiffening against him. Atsumu pulls back, corners of his lips pulled down in a small frown. “Why so shy?” Your eyes drop down, and his arms loosen, allowing you to draw back.

“This is different than in my dreams,” you murmur, not sure how else to explain that reconciling your pre-existing idea of Atsumu being a fox with the broad, handsome man before you isn’t going to happen immediately. But he doesn’t seem to understand, hands moving to cup your face.

“I’m sure it is.” Half-lidded eyes meet yours, and his nose brushes against yours, and your mind feels cloudy with the overload of information. “Let me make my little follower feel good..” He trails off, pressing a sweet kiss into your cheek. You bite your lip, brows pinching together in thought.

“I don’t know…”

“Why not?” he mutters into your neck, leaving stinging kisses up your neck, against your jaw. His hands travel to rest on your hips, squeezing the flesh there.

“You stood me up,” you pout, brows pinching in annoyance. Remorse ripples on his face, tail gently swaying behind him.

“I only want to see you. No one else. I was waiting. Do you know why?” Dark eyes spark in question, waiting. You shake your head, head feeling stuffy, letting him move your arms to wrap around his neck again.

“I want you alone, my sweet little sunshine girl. I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. Let me make it up to you,” he coos, canine teeth poking out from his dangerous smile. His nose brushes against yours, eyes burning into you.

“Oh.” Atsumu barks out a laugh, head resting against your shoulder, fuzzy ears tickling your cheek.

“There you go again with an ‘oh,’” he murmurs, hands pulling you flush against him again. “Will you let me make you feel good?” He squeezes at your waist again, tail softly brushing up and down your leg. Something hot and dangerous flows through your body, desire blooming inside you, and without thinking about the implications, you nod.

“Ok.”

He shoots you a roguish grin that makes your stomach flip. A warm hand grasps yours dragging you past the tree line, deeper and deeper into the dark, until he stops, yanking you back into his arms.

“No one will find us here,” he murmurs nipping at your neck, ears twitching. You look around at the empty clearing.

“Are you sure?” you whimper, tugging at his hair as his hands slip beneath your skirt.

“I’m positive, little human.” His hand glosses over your rapidly dampening panties. His lips ghost over yours, eyes alight with a burning fire. “Now let me make you feel good.”

Atsumu surges forward, warm lips meeting yours. Your hands grapple into his hair, letting out a little whimper as his hand slips beneath your panties. His tongue slides into your mouth, ring and index finger gently spreading your folds. A whine leaves your throat when his calloused middle finger swipes through your slick. He drags the wetness up and around your clit, teasing the sensitive bud and making your legs tremble.

He pulls away from you, leaving your brain feeling thick as honey, and he brings a shiny finger to his mouth - the one that was in between your legs, you realize. Something hot courses through your body as his cheeks hollow out, eyes narrowed in on yours. Releasing his finger with a pop, he licks his lips, smirking at you.

“I’m going to eat you alive.” Your pussy clenches at his words, and his lips are on yours again. It’s messier this time, more aggressive, his sharp canines poking into you, the rough pad of his tongue trying to explore your mouth. Atsumu drops to his knees, pulling you down with him. He pushes you back into the grass, settling in between your legs.

A clawed hand gently pulls down your panties, and his thumb brushes over the wet spot. He takes a sniff at the fabric, eyes cruelly taking in your embarrassed face, and his tongue shoots out, lapping at your arousal.

“Atsumu,” you hiss, hands covering your face. A bark of laughter reaches your ears, and you feel your skirt being pushed up slowly. It’s only when you feel a hot presence hovering in between your thighs that you peek through your fingers.

Atsumu shoots you a sardonic grin before pressing his face into the warmth of your cunt, shutting his eyes, and inhaling deeply through his nose. You sit up, hands dropping, curling into the soft grass beneath you.

“Atsumu! Don’t do that!” you cry out, trying and failing to shut your thighs. His eyes blink open, and he sniffs at your cunt again.

“You smell good.” His hand lands on your torso, gently pushing you back down. “Human.”

You inhale shakily as he continues to inhale, fingers gently pulling at your pussy. With a certain tenderness, his tongue swipes at your folds, making you shiver, fingers digging into the earth. He hums happily before diving in.

A pathetic noise leaves your mouth as he groans into your dripping cunny. Squelching noises fill the air as he sucks and slurps, tongue circling your clit. You rock against him brainlessly, humping his face as you gush. It briefly crosses your mind that his fangs could do some serious damage, but it feels too good for you to care.

He paws at your clothing, shoving things away until you’re left with only your skirt bunched around your waist. His hands slide up, gently pressing into the newly exposed skin. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the bud.

You thrash under him, fingers tangling into his hair as your thighs squeeze around his head. Atsumu moans against you, rough tongue pushing into your sopping cunny. He curls the muscle, thrusting in and out as you buck against him.

“Gonna cum, ‘Tsumu,” you moan, pulling him tight against you. Eyes hazy, he thumbs at your clit, groaning as your pussy clenches, gushing into his mouth. You babble, fingers brushing at his fuzzy ears. It feels so good, so right, cumming on his face. You writhe against him, as your orgasm gradually subsides. And then ever so gently, Atsumu’s claw scratches at your clit, making you cry out. You weakly tug at his hair, catching his attention as he continues to lap away.

“’Tsumu no more,” you whine. “Wanna kiss you.” And you watch as he melts against your thigh, eyes darkening he finally relents, pulling away from your cunt. Lips glistening, he crawls up your body, before stopping above you. With a grin, he drops down, crushing you with his weight. You let out a puff of air, but you can’t help to laugh as his thighs bracket yours, letting him support some of his weight. He watches you fondly, tail stroking your leg.

“I was gonna make you squirt. But next time, hmmm.” You preen at his words, fingers rubbing at the base of his ears, pushing him down to meet your lips again. He hums happily, tail brushing against the inside of your thighs. You shiver and let out a small moan, cunt already feeling needy and desperate again.

“’Tsumu,” you whine again, this time grinding against him.

“Gonna have to say it,” he teases, sending you a smile that you find infuriating.

“Want you inside of me.” Your brows pinch in frustration, as you continue to try and rock up against him. He tuts as you, finger barely slipping into you fluttering pussy.

“Like this?” His voice is low in your ear, a dark taunt that makes you gush under him.

“Quit messing around!” you yelp, weakly batting at his chest. Atsumu laughs, pulling his finger out and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. His hard cock, lines up with your gushing cunny, and he drags the tip of his cock up and down, nudging your clit.

“Say it.” His eyes are dark, demanding, giving you no room to pout and whine your way out of having to say it.

“I want your cock inside of me,” you moan, squirming under his attention.

“Oh? You think you’re ready?” You nod pulling at his hair as you continue to swivel your hips, trying to force his cock inside of you.

“I can take it, I know I can! I’ll be good!” you cry out, shame evaporating as he begins to push in. Atsumu nuzzles against your neck, peppering kisses against the exposed skin.

“You’re always good to me.”

And with that, he bottoms out. You squeal at the stretch, legs locking around him forcing him to still as you adjust. His tail brushes against your legs reassuringly.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He grunts, nipping at your neck. “My perfect little human, so hot and creamy inside.” You clench at his words, nails dragging against his back. Your legs loosen, giving him room to draw back. He moans as his hips pull back, your gummy walls trying to keep him inside.

Atsumu slams back in, making you squeak out his name. You whimper as your body

“Gonna let me cum in this pussy?” He mutters in your ear, making your pussy tighten. “Gonna let me claim you? Breed you?” You nod, mindlessly babbling, as you tug at his ears. “That’s right, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.” You grind up against him, trying to meet his thrusts.

“Yours. Please. I’m gonna-” His teeth sink into your shoulder, making you scream. You clamp around him, legs shaking as you cunny flutters. He moans as you buck against him, feeling overwhelmed by the velvety heat of your cunny.

“I know you are! Cum for me, just like that. That’s a good little sunshine girl,” he coos, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you cream around him.

“Want your cum!” you slur, mind still reeling, pussy feeling extra sensitive as he continues to thrust.

“Fuck, really gonna let me, huh? That’s my little human.” Atsumu licks at the bite mark on your shoulder. When his hips stutter against yours, he groans your name, thighs tensing. You tighten your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him into you as hot cum fills you.

Atsumu collapses on you with a moan, leaving little kisses along your neck. His cock softens inside you, but he makes no effort to pull out, hands squeezing your waist. His tail swishes along your legs, the repetitive motion slowing your mind.

“You know. Earlier you said I’m always good to you, but you got it backwards,” you yawn, drowsiness clouding your brain. “You’re so good to me. Make me feel special and keep me company in my dreams. You always help me make the sun come out.” Atsumu stiffens at that, and you furrow your brows at the change. 

“Atsumu? Are you-“ but he cuts you off with a tight squeeze, nuzzling into your hair.

“Real tired, baby. Just wanna lay here with you.” You nod against him, softly petting his tail as exhaustion overtakes you. ✨