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kaciidubs · 23 days

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Talk Dirty [Like You Need Love]

This song has me thinking heavily about expanding this into a fuller fic, so if people end up liking it, maybe I'll go ahead and finish it further! ✧ Summary: Chris was a great friend, picking you up from work whenever you had a late shift - so, it was only fair that you wanted to repay him. ✧ ✧ Word Count: 3.5k ✧ Warnings: Biker!AU, friends to ???, smut, slight dom! Chris, open ended ✧ ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧ ✧ Additional Tags: Reader is referred to as Baby, Good Girl, Pretty, Chris is referred to as Baby, Channie ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

The streetlights came and went in intermittent strobes, passing over the two of you as his motorcycle hummed along the sparsely occupied street.

Your arms were wrapped securely around his waist just as he’d taught you, the warmth of your body against his back combating the chill of the crisp night air - he really wished he hadn’t forgotten his hoodie in his rush to pick you up.

“Are you cold?”

As if reading his mind, your voice floated through the comms of his helmet and he shook his head, “I’m alright, baby - don’t worry about me.”

Of course, you weren’t easily swayed - it was a quality he loved about you, no matter how much he preferred to be the one to look out for everyone else, you were always there to double back on him with undeterrable determination; proved by the way you leaned a little more against his back.

He wouldn’t have thought twice about your sweet gesture if it weren’t for the shifting of your arms, your hands slowly splayed against his torso.

“I always worry about you, Chris…” Your voice was soft, dripping with sweet honey as your right hand wandered its way higher, following the soft defined path of his chest underneath his shirt. “It’s hard not to, if I’m honest.”

He took a short breath, unsure if this was truly happening or if his mind was playing tricks on him and twisting your intentions to fit his deep seated desires.

That is, until your left hand carefully danced its way to his thigh, sitting nicely against the cotton of his sweatpants.

“You always do so much for everyone else- do so much for me,” your hand flexed, nails pressing lightly against his thigh, “I just wanna do something for you in return, you know?”

The bike slowed to a roll as you reached a stoplight, Chris keeping the balance with his otherwise unoccupied leg while taking the opportunity to hold onto the outside of your own thigh.

“Be careful with your words, baby - you might give me the wrong idea.”

“Are my actions not enough?” You murmured, inching your hand higher, fingertips brushing along the inseam of his sweats, “Should I do more, Channie?”

His hand left the brake clutch to wrap around your wrist, electricity flowing through your veins like a completed circuit. “You shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

“But I want this, I need this.”

Your hand squeezed, your voice filling his head like the intoxicating lull of a siren’s call.

“I need you.”

Green.

Chris tapped your thigh, ignoring the chill that ran down his spine when you seamlessly went back to holding onto him just like he taught you; arms around his waist, your body against his back.

The ride to his apartment felt like second nature with you - much like other things he did with you, if he were honest with himself - and the moment he pulled into his parking spot, his movements only felt more natural.

Switch engine off. Kickstand down.

Your hands slid up his back, gripping his shoulders as you eased yourself off of his motorcycle, and by the time your touch left him, Chris hopped from his seat with learned grace - his hands unbuckling and taking off his helmet in record time.

By the time your own helmet was off, cradled in your arms, his intense gaze caught your eyes, locking you in a stare off that said more than words could convey, yet their true meaning would be lost to memory with what left his lips.

“Are you sure about this?” He breathed, “Tell me right now and I’ll take you home, and we can pretend none of this happened - just, tell me.”

“Chris,” his name fluttered from your lips like butterfly wings, “I meant every word, I’m sure, I’m so sure-”

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours - the warmth of his palm settling on your cheek in a hold that dared your knees to give out from underneath you - but as fast as they’d appeared, they vanished, leaving you dazedly blinking up at deep brown eyes.

“C’mon.”

The journey up to his apartment was a blur; the melodic chime of the front door’s lock welcoming you to the final stage of your decision as he ushered you through the doorway.

Shoes haphazardly kicked off next to another pile of pairs and helmets stored on a shelf, the empty living room was graced with your presence for what felt like half a second before you were finally where you needed to be.

Chris’s room was a place you’d only been inside of a handful of times, if not to stick your head in to announce your arrival when hanging out with his roommates, then to visit whenever he had a new snippet of a song he wanted to share; there wasn’t a chance for a tour then, and there certainly wouldn’t be a tour now.

With a subtle flick of a switch, the once dark room was suddenly bathed in a dim glow from the led lights lining the ceiling - warm and welcoming, much like the arms that wrapped around you from behind, followed by a soft pair of lips you were quickly getting used to pressing against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His hold grew tighter as his lips ventured higher - a dotted line of kisses, a brush of his breath against the back of your ear, followed by the ghost of his lips along the shell.

“Are you still sure?”

Your eyelids fluttered, your lips parting to sigh out words evoked from the fantasies of your deepest desires, “I’m yours.”

He turned you around, and for the first time you were able to truly appreciate the feeling of his lips against your own - soft, likely from the myriad of lip care products your friends tease him for, a sensation you could find yourself craving every day and never growing tired of in the end.

You kissed him back with fervor, taking the liberty of cupping the line of his jaw with one hand while the other cradled the back of his neck, the faint curls of his hair tickling your fingertips.

Chris was the first to pull away, gifting you a fleeting peck when you tried in vain to follow him, just to reach overhead and tug his shirt up and off before unceremoniously dropping it to the floor. However, he barely gave you the chance to admire the view as his hands went to help you out of your hoodie while your own hands hastily went to tug up your shirt in the messy, frantic process.

Two articles down, the warmth of his hands were now free to meet your waist and his lips were on yours once more; his hold tightening as he took a step forward, nudging and guiding you backward until the backs of your legs met the edge of his bed. Obliging to his silent request, you sat down, using the strength in your arms to wiggle yourself up enough to lay comfortably on the full sized mattress and welcome the weight of him on top of you until it wasn’t.

Looking up, you were met with his heated stare, all but devouring you with his eyes as he took in the view - though, you figured you fared the same way when your eyes ventured down, following the strong slope of his shoulders before taking in the sight of his chest.

It wasn’t a view you hadn’t seen before thanks to his aversion of shirts in his own home - granted, it was his apartment, so you couldn’t fault him for the times he’d come out of his room to see you happily chatting away with his roommates unbeknownst to him - but you could now appreciate the details you wouldn’t have taken in otherwise such as defined pectorals and the smallest beginnings of abs against his otherwise soft stomach.

Ending the unintentional standoff, Chris lent forward, his fingertips just barely grazing your lower stomach as they went to the button of your jeans, “Can I?”

“Please.”

The corner of his lips ticked up but he ducked his head before you could see the smirk blossom, though you couldn’t find yourself to care once your jeans were undone, lifting your hips to help him shuffle the garment down the length of your legs and watching him give them the same fate as your shirts.

“These too?” He mused with a teasing lilt, eyes flicking from your own to the plain black panties you wore.

A short huff brushed past your lips, an unamused pout pursuing them. “Chris.”

The sound of his delighted giggles bounced off the walls, reducing the heat of arousal to a nice simmer that your nerves greatly appreciated - that is, until his fingers hooked underneath the waistband and slowly pulled them off; the sensation of his knuckles dragging along your thighs drawing a soft gasp from you.

It wasn’t long until they were down your legs, past your feet, and dropped off the edge of the bed, leaving you entirely bare from the waist down.

“Fuck…” He breathed, propping his knee on the bed as his hands slid up from your calves to the backs of your knees, caressing your skin before gently bringing them up and out - exposing your pussy to his pure delight. “Look at you, pretty girl.”

A wave of heat washed over you followed by an embarrassed whimper, “Chris, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Looking up, he cocked his head slightly, “You said you were mine, which means I’m allowed to compliment what’s mine, yeah?” He bent down, maintaining eye contact as he kissed your knee softly, “You belong to me, right, baby?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, his words working like a spell against your lust addled mind.

“I belong to you.” You breathed softly, melting into his hypnotizing gaze.

A pleased hum vibrated through him as he dipped his head to kiss the inside of your thigh, his lips brushing against your skin, “Good girl.”

His kisses trailed higher and higher, growing messier and messier as he went - a nip here, a suck there, open mouthed and worshiping until he reached your pussy.

Just as he was about to dive in face first, your hand tugged at his hair, effectively breaking him out of his tunnel vision to give you his undivided attention.

“What’s wrong? Do you wanna stop? I can-”

“No! God, no - it’s just…” You took a deep breath, your bravado escaping you the instant you stopped him, “I want you to eat me out, but I wanna suck your dick too. I wanna make you feel good too, Channie”

“You wanna suck my dick, pretty?” A shiver ran down Chris’s spine at the mere thought, his dick painfully straining underneath his boxer briefs and sweats. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? Words like that coming from a mouth like yours - you’re a fucking dream.”

His presence left from between your legs and part of you felt silly for missing it until you saw him reaching for his sweatpants - even through the black fabric you were able to make out the noticeable bulge tenting the front - the waistband of Calvin Klein nudging you in the right direction of what he wore underneath.

Pushing both articles past his hips, your eyes were immediately glued to the dips in his pelvis - the Adonis belt, a fitting alternate description of his v-line until your attention jumped to a scattering of hair beneath his navel leading to seemingly maintained pubic hair.

However, your peep show was obscured by his head as he bent forward to take his clothes off the rest of the way, giving you the chance to mentally prepare for the grand reveal. By the time he stood straight again, you couldn’t help the audible gasp that left you, your eyes widening as you took him in all his glory - all of the jokes his friends would make now having validity behind their digs.

“I hope that’s a good reaction…” Chris spoke sheepishly, his ears as red as a tomato as he averted his eyes to the side, one hand twitching to cover himself while the other anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Chris,” your soft call was enough to bring his eyes back to you, just in time to see you undoing your bra and tossing it to the floor, “I really want you in my mouth, baby.”

The air of shyness quickly left him as he smirked, making his way back onto the bed, “Say please.”

Reaching forward, your fingers danced along the underside of his jaw before you whispered, “Please?”

It was almost instantaneous in the way you found yourself straddled over his face, his hands massaging the plush of your thighs as if he couldn’t get enough of the way they squished and jiggled under his hold.

You leaned forward, eyes eagerly taking in his dick from the new angle; he was thick, probably an inch over average if you had to guess, with the prettiest veins that begged for your tongue to trace them.

“Don’t force yourself to take me, okay?” He called from the other end, the feeling of his breath against your cunt sending chills down your spine. “I know I’m… y’know, big, so I don’t want you to hurt yourself to make me feel good - you letting me do this is more than enough, baby.”

“I can do it Channie,” spitting into your palm, you graciously took him into your hand with a slow stroke, “I’ll be okay.”

A low groan escaped him, your sudden touch sending him into the stratosphere, “Just- Be careful for me, alright?”

Humming in agreement, you wasted no time in littering his tip in butterfly kisses and kitten licks, slowly getting yourself used to the bittersweet taste of his precum.

“Shit…” Not holding himself back any longer, Chris slid his hands up to your hips before pulling you back onto his mouth, his tongue eagerly diving between your folds as if it were an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day.

The action made you jolt forward, though you barely moved an inch thanks to his hold on you, your lips parting to let a moan float through.

“Mm, not too loud, baby,” he spoke against your pussy, kissing the hood of your clit, “don’t wanna wake up my roommates, yeah?”

As much as the idea called to something daring within you, you shook your head, using this as an opportunity to take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth; just enough to have the weight settle on your tongue while your hand stroked what you hadn’t gotten to yet.

“There you go.”

With that, he went back to exploring your pussy with his tongue, dipping past your walls every now and then before going back to dancing around your clit - his hands enjoying their new home on the curve of your ass.

To say the feeling of his mouth on you was mind numbing would’ve been the understatement of a lifetime - it was as if he was eating you out in the most respectfully disrespectful way, the sounds of his lips sucking your clit paired with low, breathless moans before he went back to lapping up your arousal was pure debauchery.

You tried your best to be diligent, bobbing your head in time with the curls of his tongue against your slit while your fist used whatever drool that dripped from your lips as lubricant to keep each stroke smooth and slick - your efforts not going in vain by the way his thigh would flex, or the twitch of his hips - but you were quickly falling victim to the pleasure.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he mouthed against your pussy, as if moving even an inch away would be detrimental to his psyche, “could stay here forever.”

The thought had you moaning around his cock, pulling away to give your lungs the reprieve of a full breath, only for a whined exhale to follow suit. “C-Chris, please.”

“Please, what?” Flattening his tongue, he licked a fat stripe up before giving your clit the lightest kiss imaginable, “Gonna come for me, pretty? Is that what you want?”

“N-No,” dropping your face to his thigh, you focused all of your energy into keeping your hand moving, “w-wanna make you come first, just- shit, just slow down a little!”

Chris hummed, feigning deep consideration, “But what if I want you to come for me?” His right hand slid further between your legs, his index finger stroking your fluttering walls with the promise of something more, “You said you wanted to repay me - so, let me make you come.”

Your hips bucked, muscles yearning to press back against the pressure to send you over the edge you were dangerously teetering over. “But-”

“Baby,” the velvet drawl of the pet name earned a pitiful hum in response, “you wanna make me feel good, don’t you?” He felt your head nod against his thigh, huffing out a short chuckle before continuing, “You wanna ‘repay’ me for everything I do for you, right?”

“Yes.” You sighed out, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his thumb replacing his finger in favor of toying with your clit.

“Well, guess what?” Dragging his thumb up, he pressed it against your slit, “Watching you come for me- Feeling you come for me is all I could ever want from you,” slowly pushing his thumb past your walls, he ghosted his lips against your inner thigh, “show me how good I’m making you feel, baby - do it for me, please.”

He punctuated his plea by swirling his tongue around your clit once more, thrusting his thumb in time with each flick while his left hand held your hip tightly.

Your mouth fell open, a moan fighting its way through your vocal chords only to come out as choked gasps, “Ch-ah- Channie- Fuck- Channie p-please-”

Pressing his thumb in to the knuckle, Chris wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, humming out a low moan that proved to be the final straw to push you over the edge.

“Chris- C-Chris-!” Lifting your head, you put your mouth over your arm in hopes of muffling the airy moans escaping you, your vision blurring behind pleasure-fueled tears as he worked you through your orgasm.

His thumb slipped from your entrance to make room for his tongue to lap up your cum, drinking you up like a tall glass of water after a day in the sun.

It didn’t take long for you to catch your bearings, going to move away from his face until his hands tightened on your hips in silent challenge, a disgruntled grunt rising from your pure audacity of interrupting him.

“Channie, ‘s too much,” you whined breathlessly, wrenching your hand away from his - still hard - dick in favor of pushing yourself up onto your arms, “c-can’t take it, baby, please.”

Pulling away with a lewd slurp, Chris heaved a heavy breath, combating the lightheadedness of his tunnel vision while you carefully maneuvered yourself away from him - shuffling around to hover your head over a pillow before collapsing in the empty space, your body gratefully welcoming the cool sheets against your skin.

Bated breaths danced in the otherwise quiet atmosphere, Chris’s gaze locked on the ceiling as his lust-fogged brain tried to make sense of what just happened between the two of you.

“Channie?”

His heart fluttered at your soft call of his name, turning his head just to come across a sight that made his breath catch; you, his friend, laying beside him looking beautifully ruined with the golden afterglow of your orgasm that he gave you emanating from your body.

He tentatively licked his lips, goosebumps rising as your taste still lingered in his mouth, “Yeah, baby?”

“I still wanna make you come.” You murmured softly, eyes blinking at him so innocently it almost felt wrong that it made his dick twitch at the sight. “I still owe you, after all.”

Chris huffed out a chuckle, lifting himself onto his forearm before hoisting himself above you, settling his hips between your legs as he caged you in with his arms - this was a sight he could get used to.

“Instead of making this out to be you repaying a debt, how about we turn it into a ‘thank you’ gift, hm?” Leaning his head down, he brushed his nose against yours, “You thank me for the ride and the orgasm,” his lips ghosted against your own, “then I thank you for thanking me.”

“Chris, that won’t make any sense,” your voice was barely a whisper, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, “if you thank me, I’ll just thank you back - we’ll be in a loop.”

“We’ll work out the details later, then.” He murmured before leaning forward, catching your lips with his and sharing your taste off of his tongue.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @4-chan-inpadella, @butterflydemons, @kimahreummm, @ta3baee, @snowy-violet @bethanysnow

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#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #Biker!AU

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hoshifighting · 3 months

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Workaholic!Joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua consistently skips happy hours or works overtime. You've tried to warn your friend countless times, but he didn't listen to you. As a result, it's no surprise that Joshua experienced a burnout on the office floor. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, angst, office setting, fingering (f. receiving), clit stimulation, handjob, penetrative sex, a little bit of car sex, protected sex, dirty talk, flirty Joshua.

[Please be aware that the following text includes mentions of burn-out, collapse, fainting out, which may be a sensitive topic for some]

[Issue Club Serie]

You remember when you heard your manager talking about a job vacancy in the recruitment and selection sector. The name immediately stood out to you—Joshua. You studied with him in college, and you knew he would be perfect for the role.

The manager loved him. Joshua was charismatic, empathetic, and dedicated—everything the recruitment team needed. Every morning, he would thank you profusely, and at least twice a week, he would insist on buying you an overpriced coffee. It took some time for you to convince him that he didn't need to do this.

But there was something else you couldn't help but notice. The sheer number of job interviews Joshua had to lead, the late nights you'd see him at his desk with tired eyes, and how he always seemed a little lonely, even though the team welcomed him with open arms.

Joshua would rarely show up to the department's happy hours on Fridays or the company parties, and even then, he would only talk about work. There was no relief, no relaxation. You found yourself listening to him until the end of the night, as the rest of the team started to ask if he would even bother coming anymore, knowing he probably wouldn't.

You couldn't help but feel for Joshua. He was clearly passionate about his work, but at what cost? You watched as he isolated himself, unable to find that work-life balance that so many of us strive for. It made you wonder, what was driving him to push himself so hard, and at what point would the stress and loneliness become too much to bear?

As his friend, you couldn't help but worry about his well-being. You'd seen him cancel plans, skip social events, and even miss out on family gatherings, all in the name of his career. It was admirable, sure, but also concerning.

You could consider reaching out, inviting him for a coffee or a quick chat. Maybe he just needed someone to listen and remind him that there was more to life than just work.

But then again, who were you to judge?

Everyone has their own path, their own motivations. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that Joshua was heading for a burnout. You wondered if there was a way to help him find a better balance without undermining his ambitions. It was a tricky situation, and you weren't sure how to approach it.

As you glance at the clock, the hands indicate it's already 3:35 pm. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you've been so absorbed in your work that you've skipped lunch. Deciding it's time for a much-needed break, you gather your phone and wallet, heading towards the exit of the department.

But just as you're about to leave, you spot Joshua, his fingers dancing across the keyboard in a blur of movement. You can't help but let out a small sigh, knowing he's likely putting in extra hours again. Turning around, you make your way over to his desk, standing beside him.

"Joshua, it's past 3:30. Don't you think it's time for a break?" you say, your voice laced with concern.

Joshua looks up, blinking a few times as he registers your presence. "Oh, hey Y/N. I'm just trying to get this report finished before the end of the day," he explains, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You can't help but smile at his dedication. "Come on, you've been working non-stop. Let's go grab a bite to eat across the street. My treat," you offer, hoping to coax him away from his desk.

Joshua hesitates for a moment, glancing back at his computer screen. "I don't know, Y/N. I really need to get this done..."

"It can wait, Joshua. You need to take a break and recharge," you insist, your tone gentle but firm.

With a sigh, Joshua nods and starts to gather his things. "Alright, you win. Let's go," he says, shrugging on his blazer.

You can't help but feel a sense of triumph as the two of you head towards the elevator. "So, how are the apprentice interviews going?" you ask. "They're going well, actually. The candidates are all so eager and eager to learn," Joshua replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. "That's the best phase, but I hope they don't overwork themselves in the future, right Josh?" you say, casting him a knowing glance.

Joshua ducks his head, chuckling quietly. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he says, the hint of a smile still playing on his face.

As you step out into the bustling street, you feel the sun's warmth on your face, a pleasant contrast to the cold, sterile office. You turn to Joshua, a playful grin spreading across your face.

"Alright, Josh, here's the deal. If you talk about work during this break, you'll owe me an ice cream," you declare, wagging a finger at him.

Joshua laughs, a genuine sound that lightens the mood. "Deal. Though, to be honest, I'd buy you an ice cream anyway," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't you forget it. And remember, I'm serious," you say, trying to keep a straight face as you give him a mock-stern look.

Joshua raises his hands in surrender, still chuckling. "Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear."

As you both find a cozy little café, the smell of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee envelops you. You choose a table by the window, and as you settle in with your meals, the casual chatter of other patrons creates a comforting background hum.

"Did you hear about the latest drama?" you begin, leaning in conspiratorially. "The director's wife found out he was cheating on her because her strawberry jam kept disappearing from the fridge—and the director doesn't even like strawberry jam!"

Joshua's mouth drops open, his eyes wide in disbelief. "No way. Seriously?" he exclaims, staring at you.

You nod, your face a picture of exaggerated exasperation. "Yup. She noticed it was going down way too fast and started putting two and two together."

Joshua shakes his head, still processing the story. "That's wild. You know, during the last interview I led, they actually put some strawberry jam on the table so the candidates would—" He stops abruptly as your glare pierces him. He laughs, holding up his hands again. "Sorry, sorry! No work talk, I remember."

You can't help but smile at his sheepish expression. "Thank you. So, back to the story. After she figured it out, she didn’t just confront him. Oh no, she went all out. She invited him to a romantic dinner, complete with candles and, of course, strawberry jam."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then what happened?"

You lean in closer, lowering your voice. "She waited until he took a bite of the dessert she made—some fancy strawberry tart. And then she calmly asked him if he enjoyed it as much as his 'office snacks.'"

Joshua bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "No way! That’s brilliant. What did he do?"

You grin, enjoying his reaction. "He turned beet red and started stammering. She didn’t even wait for an explanation. She just got up, left the table, and moved out the next day. Took the jam with her too, just for good measure."

Joshua laughs so hard tears form in his eyes. "I can't believe it. That's some next-level pettiness. Good for her."

You noticed Joshua seemed more relaxed after your lunch together. He even managed a smile when you passed by his desk later that day. However, during the week, your attempts to repeat the lunch outing were met with resistance. Each time you invited him, he had a different excuse.

"Hey, Josh, want to grab some lunch today?" you asked on Tuesday, hoping to replicate the success of your last outing.

"Sorry, Y/N. I need to lead the apprentice interview," he replied, not looking up from his computer.

On Wednesday, you tried again. "How about lunch today? There is a pasta sale going on at the mall."

Joshua sighed, shaking his head. "I wish I could, but I need to filter the job applications. We're getting so many, and I need to find the best ones."

By Thursday, your frustration was evident, but you kept it in check. "Lunch today, Josh? You deserve a break."

"I'd love to, but I need to solve the issue with the employees' late salaries," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It's causing a lot of stress for everyone."

Joshua was developing into someone who rarely took a break from his work. Today was Friday, and as you were leaving with your coworkers, all you wanted was to taste a cold beer and find some refuge from the rough week. The whole department was eager to hang out together, and the air was filled with energy.

You were refreshing your makeup at your desk as your coworkers trickled out, laughing and chatting. Glancing over, you saw Joshua standing by the printer, watching the curriculums pile up.

"Josh, you coming out with us tonight?" you called over, hoping to finally get him to relax.

He looked up, "I don't know, Y/N. I have these curriculums to go through, and then there's the report I need to finish."

Tired of trying, you sigh in defeat, the weight of your concern for Joshua pressing heavily on your shoulders. He notices, his eyes meeting yours briefly, but you turn away and walk out. You knew you didn't have the responsibility of checking on him every single time—it was his choice to work himself into exhaustion. But how could you not worry? He was a great friend, and the thought of him breaking down alone between the dividers of his desk was unbearable.

As you sip your beer, trying to enjoy the happy hour, the image of Joshua's lost eyes lingers in your mind. The laughter and chatter around you fade into the background as your thoughts drift back to him. After a few hours, the night winds down, and you remember you forgot your keys at the office. Debora, your coworker, offers you a ride back so you can retrieve them before heading home.

The office is dark and silent as you and Debora step inside, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. Only one light is turned on, casting a dim glow over a single desk. You immediately recognize it—Joshua's desk. But he isn't sitting there.

A sense of dread fills you as you approach, the cubicle dividers blocking your view. As you round the corner, you see him—Joshua, sprawled on the floor.

You gasp, rushing to his side. "Joshua!" you scream out, your voice trembling with panic. You carefully lift his head and place it on your lap, your hands shaking as you check for signs of consciousness. He's unresponsive, his face pale and drawn.

"Debora, call an ambulance!" you shout, your voice tight.

Debora fumbles with her phone, her fingers trembling as she dials. She quickly explains the situation to the operator and then rushes to find building security for additional help.

You gently shake Joshua, trying to rouse him. "Come on, Josh, wake up," you whisper urgently, but he remains still, his breathing shallow.

Minutes later, which feel like an eternity, the sound of sirens pierces the silence. The paramedics arrive, and you reluctantly let go of Joshua as they take over, assessing his condition and preparing to move him. You insist on riding with him to the hospital, unable to leave his side.

As the ambulance speeds through the city streets, you hold Joshua's hand, your heart pounding with worry. Outside the building, a few employees gather, watching the scene unfold with concern. You barely notice them, your focus entirely on Joshua, praying silently that he'll be okay.

You don't know exactly how many hours you've been by Joshua's side as he lies in the hospital bed. You watched the morning light grow brighter through the window, dozed off, woke up to find him still sleeping, went to the bathroom, and grabbed something from the cafeteria. When you return to his room, you see Joshua awake, a nurse measuring his blood pressure. An uncomfortable silence settles in as the nurse finishes up and leaves.

You sigh, walking next to him and turning your back to him.

"Are you mad at me?" Joshua asks, his voice still weak.

You shake your head, the words snapping out before you can stop them. "No, I'm letting you rest, since you don't do it yourself."

He sighs deeply, and you close your eyes, immediately regretting your harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you this much trouble," he says softly.

You shake your head negatively, looking down. "I found you on the floor, Josh. The only reason I was there was because I forgot my keys. What if I hadn't come back?"

Joshua struggles, but he manages to reach out and catch your hand that is hanging by the bedside. His cold touch makes you glance at him. His eyes are full of exhaustion.

"Please, don't make me this worried again,"

Joshua squeezes your hand weakly. "I'll try, Y/N. I really will. I'm sorry for pushing myself so hard and for pushing you away. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten."

You nod "You don't have to do everything alone, you know. We're all here for you. I'm here for you."

He nods, his eyes glistening. "I know. And I appreciate it more than you know. I just... I need to find a better balance."

"Promise me you'll take it seriously this time," you say.

"I promise," he whispers, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit, weakly. "I'll take better care of myself."

You sit down next to him, your hand still in his. "Good. Because you can't go through that again."

You didn't like the rumors circulating around the office about Joshua while he was away. It bothered you to hear whispers about his collapse, especially since everyone in his department knew how hard he worked and yet pretended everything was fine.

As the days passed, Joshua's desk slowly filled with Post-it notes and snacks, contributions from you and other departments. Joshua's sudden health scare was a wake-up call, touching more hearts than just yours.

When Joshua returned today, Friday, you watched from your desk as he walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his desk. Messages of encouragement and little treats were piled high.

His face goes red as he glances around, catching the subtle glances of his coworkers. They quickly return to their tasks, but you see the corners of their mouths twitching with barely concealed smiles.

He worked at his desk, and his department members spared him from taking on too much. As the windows started to show the darkening sky, some people had already left to go home. Unlike regular Fridays, there was no happy hour planned for tonight.

Seungkwan approached Joshua's desk, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Josh, you should really think about not doing extra hours today."

Joshua shook his head, "I'm going to take it easy for now…" a small smile formed as he looked at you. "Also, I have a happy hour for two tonight, so no extra hours."

As his friends gave you sly glances and teased you with their smiles, you felt your cheeks blush.

"Looks like someone's got a date," Seungkwan said, grinning.

How did you two end up on a date? It started in the hospital. Joshua was still recovering, lying in bed, holding your hand. The room was quiet, the noise from machines was the only sound.

"How can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, a gentle smile on your face. "I'm not mad at you, Josh. But it would be cool if you took a break every now and then. Maybe we could go to a happy hour someday."

Joshua licked his lips, still holding your hand and giving it a weak squeeze. He looked up at you, all flirty. "Would you be open to having a happy hour with just you and me?"

You blinked, shocked. "What?"

He blushed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Come on, it's so difficult for me to take a break. I'd love to have you as the motive for my breaks."

You scoffed, attempting to conceal the warmth that spread throughout your chest. "You should take breaks for your health and my sanity."

Joshua brushed his thumb against your hand, a playful grin grabbing at his lips. "Don't scold me, Y/N-nie, I'm sick," he teased.

You stared at him, a shocked smirk on your face. "You're taking advantage of me."

"Yes," he said, his smile growing. "Using the advantage, so you accept having an encounter with me."

The memory of that conversation makes you smile as you walk out of the office together, the evening air cool and refreshing.

"So, where are we going for this happy hour?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Joshua chuckles, his eyes bright with excitement. "I thought we could try that new restaurant around the corner. I've heard good things."

You nod, feeling the tension of the week melt away. "Sounds perfect."

As you both enter the bar, the atmosphere is lively but not unpleasant. You find a cozy corner table and settle in, the soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop.

Joshua looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else that makes your heart skip a beat. "Thanks for convincing me to take a break."

You smile, raising your glass. "To more breaks and less stress."

He clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile on his face. "To more happy hours with you."

After dinner, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Joshua's car. The air is filled with a comforting silence, both of you soaking in the cozy warmth of the evening. As he pulls the car up in front of your house, you pause for a moment, your heart quickening in your chest as you struggle to gather the courage to look over at him.

Instead, you direct your gaze out the windshield, staring at the street ahead of you. The dim glow of streetlights paints the night in soft hues of orange, casting shadows on the quiet neighborhood.

"Do you want to come inside?" you ask, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Joshua turns your face toward his, his touch gentle as he lifts your chin with a soft touch. "You want me to go inside?" he enquires, his tone soft.

You nod, your gaze drawn to his mouth. "Yes."

"Then tell me," he teases, "what exactly are we going to do inside?"

You gulp, your mind racing. "We can... we can..." you stutter. You didn't have an answer on the tip of your tongue.

Joshua leans in close to you, his smile growing wider as he whispers against your skin, "I'm going to come inside, but go easy on me," he says, his breath warm and sultry, "I'm not quite recovered yet."

You shiver at his words. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice still low and quiet as you look up at him.

"What do you think I mean?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I mean," he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your ear as he speaks, "that you might have to take it slow with me."

"Slow? How slow?" You're whispering, not because you're afraid of being loud, it's because you're so horny that your voice is strained.

Joshua's lips curve into a smirk as he sees the effect he's having on you.

"Slow," he whispers back, his voice low and seductive. "Slow to the point where you feel yourself starting to drip."

He closes the gap between you, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours as his hands slide up your hips.

"Are you sure you want me to come inside?" he asks, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

Your mind could only focus on the two last words. Mind foggy. "Come inside?"

Joshua widens his eyes slightly, then a cocky smile spreads across his face as he registers the double meaning of your words. "Hmm look at you, how nasty... I guess we can do this too..."

His lips crash against yours, no longer gentle but filled with urgency. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring, tasting. You gasp, the wet noises so sultry inside his sleek car. His hands unclasp your seatbelt, and one slide from your knee to your thigh, slipping under your pencil skirt to feel the lacy panties you wore.

"Slowly, like this," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice too sultry.

His hand moves to the front of your panties, and you instinctively raise your hips as he pulls them down, discarding them onto the car's floor. The air inside the car starts to feel foggy, just like your senses, and your breathing becomes more rapid.

Joshua's hand returns to your now bare skin, his fingers teasing and exploring the wet folds of your pussy. You moan softly into his mouth, your body reacting to every touch. And slow, just like he said, he starts to circle your clit with his finger, making you instantly melt against the seat as you spread your legs wider for him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense, filled with fascination as he watches your reactions. Your mouth can't correspond to the wet kisses anymore, your hips roll against his hand, your legs spasm as you try to keep them open, and your skirt rises, revealing your sopping cunt glistening.

You find yourself pushed back against the seat, your body arching as you grow more desperate for him. His eyes never leave yours.

“I can feel how much you want this.”

You can only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his fingers speed on your swollen bud.

“So open, so needy.” he murmurs making you feel that sharp stitch in your belly一your horniness growing.

His words make you moan, and he chuckles, his voice filled with a gloomy promise. “I want to hear more of that,” he says, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You cry out, your body responding instantly to his touch, your head thrown back.

“Joshua,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Yes, Y/N? Tell me what you need.”

“More,” you manage to say, your voice trembling, “I need more.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a fiery intensity. “More? I can give you more.”

With that, he increases the pace, his fingers moving inside you making the squelching wet songs, louder. He watches you so closely that you feel embarrassed; it is as if he reads everything about you and knows every secret you keep.

“Every little touch, every little tease… you’re soaking it all up.” He coos, and you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.

You can only whimper in response, your body trembling with the need for release. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him, the feel of him, it’s all too much, and you can sense that you are nearing collapse.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. “Let go.”

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, your body convulsing against his leather seat. Joshua holds you through it, his touch possessive, trying to keep you still so you can feel the waves better. As you come down from the high, you find yourself panting, your body still trembling non-stop.

His fingers are soaked, glistening in the pale light. With a teasing grin, Joshua brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied pop. You immediately turn your face to the window, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you try to straighten your skirt. His chuckle fills the car, rich and warm.

“Shy now, are we?” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your hands fumbling with the fabric of your skirt. But Joshua isn’t done with you yet. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “We can resume this inside. What do you think?”

You nod, finally daring to meet his gaze. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping out of the car. You watch him circle around to your side, suppressing a laugh when he catches the glimpse of your knees trembling as you exit the vehicle.

“Did you get this horny?” he can't hide the amusement in his voice.

The walk to your front door feels like an eternity, your fingers fumbling with the keys as Joshua’s need becomes more apparent. He’s pressing his bulge against you, his hands roaming over your body as he kisses your neck, making it hard to focus on unlocking the door.

Finally, the door swings open, and you grab Joshua by the collar of his white shirt, pulling him inside. Your mouths collide in a desperate kiss, his hands clutching your hips as you stumble toward the bedroom. You don’t care about the noise or the awkward angles; all that matters is the friction among you, the urgent need to be closer.

With outstretched arms, you brace yourself against the wall, your body arching toward his as he presses against you. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your blouse, unhooking your bra, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. You moan into his mouth, your hands clutching at his hair while you're absorbed by the feeling.

“Bedroom,” you manage to gasp, your voice breathless and needy.

Joshua’s response is a low growl, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you through the hallway. You barely make it to the bed before you’re pulling at each other’s clothes, the fabric tearing in your haste to be free of it. His shirt falls to the floor, followed by your skirt, his pants, your blouse—until there’s nothing between you but skin and heat.

He pushes you gently onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kisses you sloppy. His hands continue their search, teasing, caressing, making you frantic with need. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his back as you pull him closer.

His cock lays heavily against your belly, a warm, wet spot forming on your skin from his precum. You grab his throbbing length, feeling it pulse under your touch. Joshua shudders, moaning needily against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and adding to your own arousal.

Your hand collects the sticky lubrication, spreading it along its entire length. You begin to stroke him, your other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His eyes flutter open, trying to stay locked on yours as you speed up your strokes. His gasps and whimpers alimented your hunger, making you feel yourself oozing more and more.

At a certain point, he lets out a high-pitched squeak, hiding his face in your neck. "I need to be inside you," he says, his voice strained and desperate.

You close your eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Open this drawer," you murmur, nodding towards the bedside table.

Joshua extends his arm, fumbling slightly as he opens the drawer and finds a couple of condoms. He picks one up, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "Always prepared, huh?" he says, tearing open the shiny packet.

His hands move with such practiced ease that it makes your breath catch when you watch him slide the rubber down his length. His cock looks even more inviting now, sheathed and ready for you.

He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes. Slowly, he pushes inside, filling you inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, your pussy stretching to accommodate him. Joshua’s groan is deep and throaty, his hands gripping your hips as he bottoms out.

For a moment, neither of you moves, so you adjust to his side, but thankfully his fingers prepared you well in his car. Then, he begins to thrust, his pace is slow at first, his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction, his ears alert to your every moan, and every wet sound from your stretched little cunt.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Faster, Joshua,”

He complies, his pace quickening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The room is filled with the sex sounds—the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps, the creaking of the bed. You feel yourself climbing higher, the knot on your belly desperately wanting to blossom.

Joshua’s rhythm falters for a moment, his grip on your hips tightening. “I’m close,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Me too,” you reply, your nails digging into his back.

Joshua takes his cock out of you, positioning himself a little further back before slamming all the way in again. The sudden movement makes you grab his forearm, while his other hand lays on your belly. Each thrust is powerful, hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you that makes you sob with pleasure. You grow tighter around him with every second, the stimulation driving you both wild.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"Am I?" you manage to gasp between his thrusts.

"Absolutely," he praises, his words going straight to your core. "You're so tight, so wet. You're perfect for me."

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch your back and cum for him. Joshua smiles at the sight of you unraveling beneath him—Your legs try to close instinctively, but his hips keep them wide apart. Your eyes roll back, your pussy gushing as your fingers curl around the headboard.

He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it just as your orgasm peaks. It shatters you, making you curse.

"Fuck, Joshua! You're so deep... don't stop... please, don't stop. God, you're going to make me cum again."

"You're so fucking tight," he groans, his pace quickening. "I can feel you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard."

"Keep cumming for me, baby," he whispers, his own voice shaking.

His moans grow louder, his pace more frantic. Your dirty talk pushes him to the brink, and with a final, powerful thrust, he cums hard. His loud moaning, combined with the sensation of his cum filling the condom, makes your head spin.

Joshua leaves you shaking for the second time that evening, fully exhausted and completely satisfied.

Joshua falls on his side beside you, his breaths coming hard and fast. You can't help but tease him, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Are you going to faint here too? Should I call an ambulance? After all, you weren’t as slow as you said you would be."

He laughs, his chest heaving. "I’ve got enough energy to fuck you all night if you want to, leave your bed all drenched," he says, kissing your cheek and playfully slapping your clit, making you shudder.

"All night, huh?" you tease back, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Big talk for someone who just collapsed next to me."

Joshua grins, his eyes sparkling. "You doubt me?"

"I’m just saying," you reply, your tone playful. "Maybe you should pace yourself. I wouldn’t want you passing out on me."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I’m not going anywhere. And if you think that was all I’ve got, you’re in for a surprise."

You chuckle, your fingers dancing down his stomach. "Promises, promises," you whisper, your hand inching closer to his now half-hard cock. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

Joshua groans, his body responding to your touch. "You’re going to regret challenging me," he murmurs.

"Bring it on," you whisper back.

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 11 months

Text

Dizzy

summary: when your roommate James comes home after a night out with his friends, he's acting even more affectionate than usual

cw: alcohol

modern au

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.7k words

You can always hear when James’ friends come over. The door opens and the sound of them comes pouring through into your flat, the boys always in the middle of bickering or joking or telling some incredibly animated story.

When you hear their noise late on a Friday night, you pause the movie on your laptop and head for the door, drawn towards their loudness. James’ friends are rowdier than anyone you hang out with, but it’s a happy sort of ruckus. They’re fun and hilarious and surprisingly kind, and you enjoy chatting when they come over.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Sirius sing-songs, spotting you as soon as you emerge from your room. You laugh at his scratchy, worn-out voice. He sounds like he’s probably been singing at the top of his lungs all night. Dark eyeliner has transferred to the skin under his eyes, but Sirius is the only person you know with his particular ability to make dishevelment look rock-and-roll instead of slobbish.

“Hi,” you say back, grinning at him. Your eyes search behind him to find Remus, just coming through the doorway. As always, he looks completely different from his other half; whereas Sirius has unmistakably just gotten home from a night out, Remus could just as easily have been at the library in his jeans and t-shirt, except for the faint black smudge where Sirius’ eyeliner has seemingly rubbed off on his cheek. Then you catch sight of James, drooping like an overwatered flower with his arm slung around Remus’ shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be alright,” Remus grunts, heaving your roommate through the entryway. He tries to send you a smile of greeting, but it’s more of a well-meaning grimace. “He just needs to drink some water.”

“I won,” Sirius says giddily, stumbling over and grabbing your arm. “I outdrank James Potter.”

There’s a nervous edge to the laugh that bubbles out of your throat. “That’s great, Sirius, congratulations.” You cast an alarmed look towards Remus. “You all had a competition?”

Remus shakes his head. “They had a competition.”

“I won,” James says suddenly, picking his head up as if revived from a deep sleep. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N, I’m the winner.”

Sirius makes a derisive sound. “You can’t even walk, Potter.”

“I can,” James defends himself, and slips his arm from around Remus’ shoulder. Both you and Remus put your hands out cautiously like when a toddler takes its first steps, but James totters safely to the couch, leaning against it like he’s just finished a marathon and directing a smug smile towards Sirius. “Suck it, Pads.”

Sirius’ lips curl impishly. His unsteady gaze settles on Remus, still hovering by the door. “Gotta get home to do that.”

“Alright,” Remus says quickly, stepping forward to take his boyfriend by the shoulders and steering him towards the door. “We’re gonna go home and get to bed—to sleep.” He’s blushing something fierce, and you do your absolute best not to smile. “Prongs.” James looks up from where he’s been toying with the fabric of your couch throw. “Drink some water, and then go to sleep, yeah?” Remus raises his brows, waiting for confirmation, and James presses a solemn hand to his heart.

“Your wish is my command, Moony-boy.”

Remus rolls his eyes but turns to go, sending you a quick goodnight with an apology embedded in his voice before he shuts the door behind him. You lock it, and turn back around to find James performing a lazy somersault over the back of the couch and onto the cushions.

“James,” you laugh, and he smiles up at you like he doesn’t know what’s so funny but is happy to be a part of it anyway, “do you want to come into the kitchen to have some water?”

James turns pensive. “Is that where you’re going?”

“Mhm.”

“Then sure.” He hops up a bit too fast, and has to put his arms out in front of him to regain his balance.

You take his forearm in your hand, knowing you won’t be able to support his weight if he really falls but hoping you can at least slow his descent, and begin walking him toward the kitchen. “Are you feeling dizzy?” you ask him.

James hums. “A bit. But in a good way, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway. “Well,” you say with certainty you can’t feel, “that’s good. Chill here for a second, okay?” You prop him up against the counter, and James melts against it instantly in that easy way he has, leaning back on his elbows and crossing his ankles in front of him. The edge of the counter has to be digging into his back, but James makes it look like the most comfortable spot in the flat.

You start to grab a glass from the cabinet but then think the better of it, opting for a less destructible plastic cup. You fill it with icy water from the tap.

“Alright.” You pass it to him. “Don’t drink it too fast.”

James takes the cup with a smile that’s really much sweeter than your tiny gesture warrants. Then he proceeds to slide the rest of the way down the counter, until he’s sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the floor. After a moment, you decide to join him, crossing your legs under you and letting your back rest beside his. The floor just seems like the place to be right now.

For the first time since you’ve known him, James seems content to sit in silence, sipping at his water. Neither of you are looking at each other, or really anywhere in particular. It’s definitely a Friday night, more of the noise of voices and traffic making their way up to your flat than you hear on most days of the week, but your home itself is quiet. The light in the kitchen is dim, coming in from the lamp you’ve left on in the living room, and your body relaxes instinctively in the peaceful dark.

James has nearly emptied the cup when he says, “Hey,” as if he’s just remembered something important.

You look at him. “What?”

“There’s no ice in here.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did you want ice? I can put some in, I just thought you preferred drinks without ice.”

Even in the dim light, you can make out enough of James’ eyes to see the brown in them go absolutely molten. He turns toward you more fully, his shoulder and cheek squished up against the cabinets. “Aww, you knew.”

You laugh at him, his smushed cheek pushing his glasses up on his face and his bottom lip jutting out slightly. The effect is that he looks both worryingly drunk and decidedly endearing. “Of course I know,” you say. “We’re roommates. I’m bound to pick up on things.”

Your words do nothing to curb James’ adoration. “Still, you noticed,” he says, maudlin. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The word resounds in your head like the happy chime of a bell. James is always calling you that, but usually it seems thrown away, a light little endearment he tacks onto his addresses without thinking. This feels different. It lingers on his tongue like caramel, soft and sticky sweet. Sweetheart.

“Of course,” you say again, and you’re grateful for the poor lighting that’s hiding your blush. “Ready to go to bed?”

James looks at you like you’ve asked him to solve a calculus equation, thick brows knitting together. Maybe it’s the endearment still ringing in your head, but you really want to smooth the crease from between them with your thumb. You don’t.

“I dunno,” he says after a moment. “Are you tired?”

“A little,” you admit. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugs. “I could be.” And then he’s hauling himself up, an overly complicated process that involves getting his feet underneath him while he’s already using the counter to pull himself off the floor. You have to bite back a smile as you watch, and when he’s done James extends a hand to you. As if you’re the one who needs help.

You take it but don’t actually put any of your weight on him as you stand, grabbing his empty cup from the counter. James’ hand is big, engulfing yours easily, and the condensation from the cool water still lingers on his palm. He doesn’t let go as you start towards his bedroom. You tell yourself it’d be mean to pull away on your own.

“Oh!” he exclaims, once again like he’s discovered something fascinating. “I haven’t even asked—how’s your night been?”

You laugh again. You can never seem to stop laughing around James. “It’s been good, thanks. Not as eventful as yours, I take it.”

James hums in unhappy affirmation. “Lucky you.”

“Well, seems like you got the true night-out experience.” You bring him to sit on his bed, bending to untie his shoes for him and setting them by the door. “Do you wanna sleep in that or change into pajamas?” you ask, fighting the urge to tack on the honey that pushes at your lips.

There’s no deliberation there. “Pajama pants, at least. I can’t wear jeans in bed, m’not a monster.”

You smile to yourself, locating a pair of pajama pants on the floor and holding them up for him to see. “These okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

You toss them to him. James starts to strip, and you turn around quickly, going into the bathroom. “So, aside from the drinking contest, did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says lightly. You fill the cup with water from James’ sink and find a bottle of ibuprofen in the drawer underneath. “It wasn’t bad. Remus is so busy lately, it’s good to get to see him at all, and beating Sirius is always fun.” He gives a little laugh. “He’s such a sore loser.”

“He seemed to think he’d won,” you say, your tone teasingly dubious.

A harrumph. “If Remus doesn’t set him straight on that, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckle.

“You’ll tell ‘em, won’t you?”

“For sure. Do you have your pants on yet?”

“Oh. Yeah.” You go back into the bedroom to find James comfy under the covers, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t know you were waiting for me to tell you, sorry.”

“No worries.” You smile. He looks so sweet like this, curls splayed out around his head on the pillow the way a kid draws rays around the sun. You set the cup and pill bottle on his nightstand, using your proximity to study his face. His pupils are huge and unfocussed, and the smile he’s aiming at you is a bit too dopey for your liking. “You said you were dizzy…do you think you’re going to be sick?”

“No.” James starts to push himself up as if to make his point, then decides against it, resting his head against the edge of the mattress with a tiny grimace. “Maybe.”

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, grabbing a wastebasket from under his desk. “Here, I’m going to put this by the bed just in case, okay? And you’ve got water and ibuprofen on the nightstand.”

James doesn’t respond. He’s looking at you dazedly.

“James.” You tap his cheek lightly. “Do you understand? You need to use the wastebasket if you feel sick.”

His hand emerges from beneath the covers, fingers braceleting your wrist. “Stay with me,” he mumbles. You’re glad he’s definitely too out of it to feel the quick bumping of your pulse beneath his fingers. When you hesitate a second too long, James tightens his grip beseechingly. “Please, sweetheart?”

There it is again. Your brain buzzes in response.

“Alright,” you whisper, brushing a soothing touch against the inside of his forearm, and James releases you. “I was watching a movie before you got home. Want to finish it?”

He agrees, and you go across the hall, retrieving your laptop. You climb over him on the bed, pretending not to feel the brush of a big hand across your hip as though meant to steady you. You settle your laptop between the two of you and press play on the movie.

James leans over, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re always watching this,” he murmurs. “You don’t get tired of it?”

“Not really,” you reply. “It’s my favorite. But if you are, I can change it.”

He makes a humming sound, and you feel the vibrations in your shoulder. “No, s’alright. Bet you can quote half the film, though, can’t you?”

You grin. “I’m scared,” you say, in time with the actress on your screen. “I don’t wanna get hurt.” You can feel James smiling, his cheek smushing against your shoulder. You lower your voice into a gruff mockery of the male actor’s intonation. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

James makes a soft sound of amusement. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

You fall into an easy silence, blue light cast over your features as the familiar scenes play out quietly on your laptop. You keep sneaking glances at James, thinking he’s either about to fall asleep or be sick, but he’s watching the movie contentedly, head a solid but welcome weight on your shoulder. He’s evidently decided to discard the shirt he’d worn to the bar, and the skin of his bare shoulder is warm where it presses against your arm. He adjusts his head a little, and his curls tickle the underside of your jaw. You don’t know how he gets them so soft. Not through any strict regimen or product, apparently. One good thing about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s never the one who runs out the hot water; he’s in and out of the shower in ten minutes every time. And yet, if you look closely enough, you can usually find at least two or three perfect coils in his hair. Genetics, you suppose. James was blessed with a good lot of them.

The movie’s not half done before you’re yawning, your eyelids feeling like someone’s sewn fishing weights into them. You try not to shift, but your shoulders rise with the involuntary inhale, and James looks up at you. You yawn again, covering your mouth with one hand as a tear forms in the corner of your eye, squished out when you blink. You wipe it away.

“Wait,” James says. You go still, looking over at him curiously as he adjusts against the headboard of his bed, pushing himself further upright. He tilts his head. The back of his index finger brushes gently under your lashes. “You always get teary at night,” he says softly.

You know you should get out from under his touch, but you can’t make yourself. “I tear up a lot when I yawn.”

Just thinking about it has you yawning again, and James takes your face in his hand, catching the tear that falls from one eye.

“Don’t cry,” he begs you. “If you cry, I’ll cry.”

You take his wrist in your hand, giving him a small smile. “I’m not crying, James. I’m just tired.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss, feather-light, just next to your eye. You freeze, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Okay, m’sorry. You’re tired? Wanna go to sleep?”

You have to clear your throat to make sure your voice comes out right. “Sure.” It’s still a bit hoarse. “Wake me if you need anything, okay?”

James takes your hand, a willing captive between two of his as he draws it into his lap. He settles his head back onto your shoulder. “Okay. You’re too nice to me.”

“I’m not,” you say, before you can think the better of it. “You’re the nice one.”

James only hums.

You swallow. “Goodnight.”

You’re waiting for a response, the movie on your laptop just now getting to the scene where the love interests give in and confess their feelings for each other, when you feel a wet spot forming near the collar of your shirt. Slowly, careful not to jostle him, you tilt your head to look down at the source of the drool puddle.

James already asleep.

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anantaru · 9 months

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ENTANGLEMENTS — ALHAITHAM

alhaitham hates working more than he has to but atleast he's got you to help him in a special way. wc. 600

・✶ ｡ warnings — cockwarming, office sex, petnames: princess, slightly dom alhaitham ??, fem! reader

"ugh, what a mess, this will take me hours to finish," alhaitham hisses lowly, gritting his teeth as his hands grab your hips to keep you in place— most importantly so you won't suddenly lose balance and fall off his lap as his cock throbs and twists in you, "—cannot wait to finish this and go home, princess,"

in natural response to his sugarlike spelling, your lips move close to his ear as you pant out a breathy moan of his name— crowded by his erection when his cock pushes against one particular searing spot, grazing against your sensitivity as his dick molds along your walls and stretches your hole good enough that you were hardly capable to think straight.

"now, what's that?" alhaitham chuckles— well, it sounded more like a strained snicker. although his eyes were sharp, nothing special, calculative and the scribe didn't miss your eyes rolling back into your skull now that your pussy grew accustomed to such fullness, your body eager awaiting to have him move himself in and out.

he averts his eyes from the piece of paper on his desk before roughly squeezing the flesh of your ass, making it jiggle under his large palms and adding in a subtle smack.

"keep quiet, remember there's people outside." you can only nod at him, both hands squeezing his strong shoulders before you force yourself to focus on the inviting sight of your boyfriend— his tight shirt lazily draped up, resting right under his chest and exposing his defined abs glistening with sweat, or his large hands pushing your hips down while not daring to drag himself out even once.

"you can take it, no?" he hums, "would be quite the shame if you didn't, don't you think? considering everything, in this moment you couldn't choose between what you found worse— the aching stretch of his thick shaft splitting you in half, although not moving, or the way how alhaitham was seemingly so unfazed by all of it, nonchalant as he rotates between toying with the plump flesh of your ass and focusing back on the important document resting on the table.

it was infuriating— but that's how the scribe was, and he always counted on your sweet pussy to wrap around him like second skin whenever he found himself borderline bored by his work.

your forehead falls flat to dig into his shoulder as you flutter awfully hard around his shaft, suddenly catching him inattentive as you triumph over your boyfriend just this once— his cheeks now flushing in the prettiest shade of pink when he notices the clench of your sore cunt, his eyes snapping shut and his lips parting flawlessly, his throat exposing an unplanned moan.

a blissed-out countenance accentuates his handsome face, tears stinging the corners of his soft lashes before he leans his head back.

"hah—," you chuckle breathlessly, your mind entirely clouded by just how amazing his cock felt in you, "you can take it, no?" you mimic his previous taunting, adding a slightly higher pitch as to get your point across, "would be quite— ah, fuck, fuck!" your jaw drops in awe as he snaps his hips upwards to fuck into you, chuckling as he gave your ass a light slap.

your toes curl when he pushes at a deep spot, satisfying stuns of lust surging throughout your abdomen and straight to your quivering pussy as alhaitham brings one hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on his own famished glare.

"—easy now, what have i always told you about acting out like that? or disturbing my work, hm?"

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #al haitham x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

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With your hands full, you use your elbow to push the doorknob and nudge the door open with your shoulder. You enter Ghost’s office, shutting the door behind you with your foot.

He stands with his back turned to the door, focused on the map spread across his desk. He looks over his shoulder and narrows his eyes as they fall upon the box in your hands. Although he doesn’t say it, the message is clear—he’s waiting for an explanation. You don’t blame him; anyone in his shoes would do the same.

“I need your help,” you announce.

“Absolutely not,” he replies, returning to the map.

“I’m serious.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, scribbling something on the paper. “Out. Now.”

“Seriously, man?” you protest, stomping your foot once on the floor.

He stops mid-writing, lets the pencil fall, and slowly turns halfway towards you. It must be the casual “man” you threw at him; otherwise, nothing would explain how he looks at you now, with one of his eyebrows so high up that it’s threatening to escape his forehead and shoot out of his balaclava.

“Please,” you whisper. “Just this one time.”

He lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. “What do you want?” He asks.

“I need to hide this,” you explain and slightly lift the box in your hands.

He throws a brief glance at the box, then back at you. “Elaborate,” he orders. “What is it?”

“Cake,” you reveal.

“Cake,” he repeats and gestures with his hands to speak further.

“For Price,” you explain. “It’s his birthday.”

“I know,” he says, shrugging. “Why hide it?”

“It’s a surprise,” you reply. “He doesn’t know.”

He clicks his tongue and turns his attention back to the map. “I think the captain is well aware that today is his birthday,” he murmurs.

“Will you please stop with the jokes?” you plead, throwing a quick glance at the door. “He saw me carrying it, and I think he’s suspicious.”

“Nonsense!” he chuckles while continuing to write on the map. “There is nothing suspicious about someone wandering around a military base holding a....” He turns back and looks at your hands. “Pink and white striped box with gold lettering embossed at the top; what the hell.”

“What can I say?” you snap. “Lulette’s patisserie ran out of camo boxes.”

He huffs and redirects his attention to the map, sketching out little arrows and making notations. He gets on your nerves like that, yet he never fails to lend you a hand when needed. You just need to be more pragmatic. Convince him.

“Please,” you beg. “This is the safest place to hide it; nobody dares to come here without permission.”

He tosses the pencil again on the map, this time more forcefully, and swivels his entire body towards you, crossing his arms and leaning on the desk.

“Yet here you are, in my office, permission or not,” he barks and points toward the door. “Out, now.”

“It’s an emerg-”

“I won’t repeat it.”

“But-”

There’s a knock on the door. You both turn towards the sound.

“Who’s that?” Ghost asks.

“Price,” the voice responds from behind the door.

You turn your head towards Ghost, and he meets your gaze. The once scornful expression he had is now replaced with urgency.

He quickly looks around and motions for you to get under the desk; it has a modesty panel that graces the floor, making it a good enough place to conceal yourself and the box. You run toward your hiding spot and crawl under it while mouthing an “I told you so” to him. He brings his index finger to his mouth while pushing your head further into the opening. You bring your knees to your chest and balance the box there. Ghost quickly sits on top of the desk and picks up the phone.

“Come in.” He shouts.

The door swings open, and Ghost theatrically shuts the phone. He apologises to Price for the delay, explaining that he “was on the phone with one of the Sergeants discussing the upcoming mission.” You hear Price approaching, and Ghost dives right into the mission details without letting him get any closer.

After the lieutenant finishes his briefing, there’s something about the operation being on a tight timeline, how the captain needs everyone to be on point and Ghost assuring him how prepared the team is. They then delve into specifics and strategies, and you hear the map rustling, tapping fingers on the wooden surface above you, scribbling with the pencils and some subtle shifts in posture here and there.

Suddenly, Price’s voice changes direction, and you hear him walking around the desk. Ghost walks towards your hiding place and pushes his office chair closer, squeezing you further towards the modesty panel. You look up and listen to papers being lifted up. You hold your breath, and your heart pulses in your ears.

“Are these the documents for the mission?” Price asks.

“Yes, sir.” Ghost replies.

“Good.” The captain exclaims. “Let’s meet with the team and finalise the plans in the briefing room in an hour.”

“Understood,” Ghost says, and you hear Price distancing himself from your hiding spot, leaving the room.

Ghost waits a few moments, ensuring the door is closed, and Price is far away, before knocking on the desk twice, signalling that it is safe for you to emerge from under the desk. You put the box on the desk and slowly crawl out.

“I told you it was an emergency,” you repeat. “You didn’t listen.”

He doesn’t respond but grabs the box and walks towards the bookshelf.

“What cake is it?” He asks as he squats in front of a cabinet and places the box there.

“It’s a fruit tart.”

“Christ’s sake,” he grunts as he shuts the cabinet. “Who in their right mind picks a bloody fruit tart for a birthday cake.”

“Captain likes fruit tarts.” You remind him.

He stands up and walks behind his desk. “Be back in half an hour,” he states, looking at his watch. “We’ll do it after the briefing, where everyone will be present.”

“Yes, sir.” You nod and walk towards the door.

“And no poppers, no sparklers, no party horns.” He clarifies.

“What about party hats?” You ask.

“Party hats are fine.” He murmurs. “They don’t make any noise.”

“Should I save one for you, sir?”

He slowly shoots you the same look he did when you stepped into his office. “I don’t know.” He murmurs as he tilts his head. “Should you?”

“I guess not.” You whisper and clasp your hands.

“You guess right.” He whispers back. “Now, and for the final time, go.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley fanfiction #call of duty #modern warfare 2

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one-shot #sirius black one shot #sirius black headcanon #sirius black headcanons #sirius black hc #sirius black hcs #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black dialogue #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader fanfiction

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soobnny · 1 month

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cops and robbers — kim seungmin

trope: kim seungmin x reader | strangers-to-lovers ; use of profanity ; mentions of a one night stand once ; he’s a fuckboy basically summary: fuckboy kim seungmin takes interest in the quiet, photography major who lives just across his dorm. wc: 3.8k words

The first time Kim Seungmin sees you, you have a camera strapped around your neck.

You’re just across his dorm room, hands fiddling on the buttons of your DSLR and eyes shifting where you can get your eyes on, looking.

Probably for something that can be added to your portfolio, he thinks. Not that he cares.

It isn’t all that hard to spot him either. Seungmin is easy to find, with a cigarette lit between his fingers and the smell of smoke vexing your senses. His entire body is leant on the wall, eyebrow slit and all to truly sell the fuckboy character.

You lock eyes when you finally find the source of smoke, and you think for a second to tell him to stop. It’s not what you do. Instead, you shift your attention.

It’s never a good idea to be within distance of boys like him anyway. There are other things to think about, things much more important. Like what you’ll have for dinner, the old pair of shoes you need to replace, your final portfolio.

Sighing, you look down at your camera.

You hope the low ISO 200 can capture whatever the fuck you want to take a photo of tonight—long shutter speeds, white balance on auto, manual mode. You’d be fucked if you didn’t have these settings memorized.

Different for day. Different for night. It’s a hassle, but it’s a hassle you keep up with if you want to graduate.

“You know, it isn’t safe for pretty girls like you to be out this late.”

Raspy. It comes from just behind you, and you have half a mind to turn to face the threat when you’re greeted face to face with a smirking Kim Seungmin. He sounds kitschy, looks kitchsy and it seems like he knows it as well.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll be fine.”

He stares at you for a minute.

“Whatever you say, princess.” The bass of his voice is a little terrifying, but not enough for you to shuffle away.

He would’ve been more if you weren’t hellbent on the idea of finishing your portfolio for the semester. Nothing scares you more than a failing class.

Not even Seungmin.

He doesn’t seem to mind your lack of chalant. He doesn’t really care. The boy has never been the type to stick his nose in other people’s business, talking to others only when necessary. Being annoyingly chatty was reserved for his friends.

In hindsight, starting a conversation with you should’ve been the first outlier he noticed on his sudden shift of behavior. But he doesn’t. Instead, he shrugs his shoulders and separates himself from you.

He was only out for a smoke anyway.

The next time he sees you is after his one-night-stand-gone-wrong.

It’s still at night, just a week later. And you look exactly like the way you were, camera in your hand and an unbothered look on your face.

Though, when you hear footsteps echoing from just a short distance and spot a speeding figure coming from his room, your face twists in disdain.

You were only out to practice a certain exposure you want to perfect. Not to bear witness to whatever the fuck happens in Seungmin’s dorms.

When he locks eyes with you for the second time that week, you pretend not to notice anything.

“You again?”

He’s shameless. A bit of his overgrown sideburns are sticking to his skin, shirt lazily thrown on, and sweat still glistening on his forehead. You don’t want to think of the connotations of what your observations could possibly mean.

You simply look at him, the way his face morphs in recognition and the way his neck cranes just a little. He looks like he’s in his element, sweat and fucked-out eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

You’re the exact opposite, picking at the buttons of your camera with sleep-riddled eyes and air struck hair.

Sighing, you push yourself off your unflattering position on the ground, brushing off the rubble that might’ve stuck on your pants from sitting there for so long.

You slip back into your dorm room without uttering a single response to the boy.

He sees you everywhere after that.

And truthfully, it was starting to get annoying. Especially when the boys started catching on to his staring.

While Changbin was narrating stories of nights Seungmin couldn’t care for the details of, he finds himself scanning the student hall.

He thinks he doesn’t know the reason why, or at least not until he finds you eating with some other girl.

Your eyes are intently glued to the screen of your camera. He wonders what photos could litter the memory of your SD card.

Before he can even shift his attention back to whatever the fuck was happening back with his friends, he’s caught red-handed. Shit-eating grins surround the table, a few howls here and there, and shoves that Seungmin could've gone without.

“Is she your next target, Seungmin?”

He wants to vomit at the word choice.

“Target?” He scoffs. You weren’t a target. “She isn’t even my type.”

Kim Seungmin brushes off their noise, canceling out the ill-intentions they’ve made up for him. He just sits there, unperturbed by everything until his friends finish eating.

He looks at you one last time before leaving. It’s hard not to.

It doesn’t save him from further teasing.

“You’re a photography major?”

You’re caught off guard by the sudden voice behind you.

It seems Seungmin has made a habit of surprising you when you least expect to see him.

“...I am.”

You finally reply after letting the question hang in the air for a few seconds longer than necessary. He doesn’t care, only cares that you responded to him.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

Is he only capable of asking you questions?

“We’re not friends.” You deadpan. His lips pull into a smile.

“I’m just curious why you have a camera with you all the time. Loosen up.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, just lets the silence hang there. He knows he can tick you off even more, but he doesn’t find himself wanting to. He simply walks back to the dorms with you.

When he walks too fast, he stalls—for just enough time for you to catch up with him.

You fail to notice the way he shifts his position, always standing by the busy side of the road.

“Are you smoking again?”

It’s the first time you initiate conversation, and he snaps out of the trance he’d been in. He was outside again, similar to when he’d first met you. And you were still you, with your camera, and the way you lift it to fit your eye through the viewfinder.

“Why? Are you starting to care about me, princess?” There’s that same smirk evident, and it seems he took your question as invitation to stand next to where you are.

You want to stomp on his face.

“‘M just asking. I really couldn’t care less.”

You can smell the smoke off of him, warranting you to take a full step away. You’ve always hated its scent, and the second-hand smoke exposure.

In turn, Seungmin runs a hand through his hair. It’s shorter, looks like he got it trimmed recently. When you put your camera away in favor of leaving the site of crime, the boy attempts to stop you.

“Leaving already?”

“It isn’t exactly part of my tuition fee to talk to people like you.”

You sound harsh, and it’s an odd feeling to suddenly feel offended about a simple phrase he’s heard multiple times before.

People like you.

What the hell was that even supposed to mean?

“Spare me a few more minutes, angel.”

You don’t bother arguing any further. Besides, you still needed a few more practice photos of where you were looking. You lift your camera back up to peek through its viewfinder, and you can only hope the noise of your photos is enough to drown him out.

“What are you doing out here so late, anyway? Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t safe?”

“I also remember telling you I’ll be fine.” You grumble, snapping a shot. He moves closer to you when you open your mouth to continue talking. “Practicing helps ease the feeling of dread, like I’d be less likely to fail if I did.”

Seungmin notices the calluses on your hands, rough with hard work, and then his eyes trail to your side profile. The light exposure from the moon makes you look prettier than you already do.

Wait, what?

The boy has never stared at someone’s hands and drawn a conclusion before, never taken the time to admire and talk to someone he wasn’t planning on screwing over either.

There’s a first for everything.

“Smoking helps.”

You snort at his sudden comment. Too much time has passed by for him to suddenly butt back into the conversation. The timing makes you laugh a little.

His heart races at the sound.

“Are there thoughts when you feel dread?” He asks, albeit a little silent, in case you didn’t want to talk about it.

You contemplate whether you should talk about it. It’s an unlikely conversation to have with an unlikely person like Kim Seungmin.

Against your better judgement, you answer.

“I don’t know. It just feels like… it feels like my heart is palpitating. I feel scared for some reason. I guess I just really don’t want to fail. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. It does.”

“You also feel dread?” You ask.

He hums in response. “All the time. Sometimes I’m not sure if the decisions I’m making are the right ones.”

It makes him sound so human to be able to empathize. You hate to admit you’re surprised.

“Just do what feels right in your heart.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’ll know.” You mumble.

The few minutes you’ve spared him has run out. “Goodbye now, Seungmin.”

“You know who I am?”

“Everybody knows who you are. You and your friends.” You wave him off, finally shutting off your camera and putting the lens hood back. “Bye.”

You’re dismissive, and it’s something that would usually annoy Seungmin because he’s the dismissive one in his friend group.

The sudden challenge should anger him, but it doesn’t. What is it about you, and your playing hard to get, and your dismissiveness that has his attention so much?

He’s usually the one being chased, never chasing.

He’s usually the one being told things, never initiating. Never telling.

You’ve definitely done something to him, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

He really doesn’t want to think about it.

It happened without warning.

You only remember how angry Seungmin was. Everything else was a little blurry.

You don’t even know who threw the first punch. Shapes and shadows just seemed to move around you until a fight broke out.

The victim was from the Engineering department, though you don’t find the word victim befitting for someone like him. You don’t even know his name, just that he has a history for picking on people.

And it seemed today, you had fallen prey. You guess it just wasn’t your lucky day.

Though, if you think of the situation in whole, he definitely had worse luck than you.

Seungmin was locked and loaded behind gritted teeth and white knuckles when he threw a punch. And he was unforgiving with his hits.

“Seungmin, stop it.” Your voice comes out in a desperate plea, and as if a switch, he pulls himself off of the nameless Engineering boy.

“Fucking asshole.” Seungmin spits at him.

He surprises you with how cold he can speak. While you’ve always known that boys like him were a little more asshole-coded, you didn’t think he had it in his moral compass to defend you after having only shared not more than four conversations.

“Why would you do that? Seungmin, what the hell?”

You’re exasperated as you peel him away from the crime scene. He’d suffered a few blows you’re sure would bruise later, and his knuckles were bloody from his displays of violence earlier.

He’s speed walking ahead of you, doesn’t think he can look at you.

“Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? He had your camera.” His voice was significantly louder than it had been during your earlier conversations. You think it might be the first time he’s raised his voice at you.

His features, however, deeply contrast with the upset dripping from his voice. His face softens ridiculously fast when he turns back to look at you. And while his intentions send a soft nudge on your heart, you’re still upset at the predicament he’d willingly and intentionally put himself into.

“I didn’t need you to start a fight.” You sigh, tugging him by his arm after he’d stopped walking to direct his line of sight at you.

You continue the fleet-footed walk back to your dorm, dragging him with you.

“A thank you would be appreciated.” He grumbles from behind you, but makes no move to free his arm from your grip. Seungmin simply lets you drag him away.

“Stay there.” You sit him down just in front of your door before slipping into your little room. It takes no longer than two minutes before you’re back outside.

He’s still right where you left him. The only difference is he’s looking at you as if he’d been waiting for you to come out.

You make a move to crouch next to him.

There’s a first aid kit sitting between the two of you, a tub of water, among other things.

“How could you be so reckless?” You offer no warning when you take his hands, soaking them under the water and carefully washing the site of injury.

When you’re sure it’s clean, you turn to look at him. “You barely even know me, and you’re getting into fights.”

You’re clearly stressed, packing ice into a thin cloth while lecturing him under one breath. He doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he hyper fixates on the way you hold his hand—resting it on your thigh, applying light pressure on his bruise.

Your hand is warm, almost too warm against his. And he notices the same callouses he did that night you caught him smoking again. Yours with hard work, his with stubborn lament.

The action makes his face flush an embarrassing color. You don’t seem to notice. You’re too preoccupied being upset to even look him in the face.

“You better not do this again.”

In truth, Seungmin had probably suffered much worse than bruised knuckles. This, in comparison to all the previous fights he’d gotten himself into, was nothing. But it feels more significant than the rest.

His heart folds at how you’re taking care of him.

It was a curiously intimate thing for you to attempt to reduce the swelling with your makeshift cold compress. There’s an unidentifiable feeling in his heart he still doesn’t want to think about, but he knows there’s a subtle change in the air that he needs to address.

“He could’ve smashed years of your hard work.” He suddenly breaks the silence.

It triggers you to glance up, and you lock eyes with Seungmin once more. It looks like he’s rethinking whether he should continue talking.

Against his better judgment, he does. “He had your camera, and all I could think about was how devastated you would feel if he’d broken it.”

You blink a couple of times at his sudden confession. Moreso because he’d been observant enough to know the significance of that single piece of item. And maybe because he was looking at you a certain way.

He does that sometimes.

You don’t really know what to say to him, so you shift your focus back on his wounds. And when you’re sure there wasn’t any more damage, you let him go. “I’m done. You can go.”

A silence falls between you both before the boy climbs back on his feet while holding the cold compress you’d handed him. He takes a few tentative steps away.

“And Seungmin?”

He suddenly turns back at the interjection of your voice, looking at you with that same look from earlier, like you should know he’d do it again for you. It’s almost fond. And Seungmin hovers there, waiting.

You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to finally say the words that’d been brewing in your throat.

“Thank you.”

You’re trying so hard to keep your voice monotone. He’s trying so hard not to smile.

Seungmin’s been in front of you for almost ten minutes now.

It’d been almost a week since he’d gotten into a fight, and he has the gall to suddenly appear in front of you. In the student center during dinner, of all places.

“Hi.” It’s his fourth time uttering those words now, but it seems your attention is still on whatever the fuck poison they were serving for dinner.

“Talk to me. Hi.” He persists.

(“He likes her, for sure.” Hyunjin laughs from a few tables away.

There’s amusement in Chan’s eyes.

“Yeah, he definitely does.” The eldest smiles to himself.)

His attempts are fruitless. You are still drinking your soup, and he is still vying for your attention.

“You’re ignoring me.” Seungmin pouts. He actually pouts. “Are you still upset I started a fight?”

You don’t respond. If you were honest with yourself, you don’t know why you’re ignoring him either. Was it because you’d felt the slightest nudge in your feelings the last time you saw each other?

“Pretty girl.”

You stall before asking. “How’s your knuckles?”

He smiles. “Better. Will you stop ignoring me now?”

“I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“If you want me to apologize, I won’t. I don’t feel regret for doing what I did. I’d rather his face smashed than your camera.”

There’s that nudge again. You didn’t want him to apologize either. A few days of mulling it over and the news of quiet in the Engineering department since his fight with Seungmin tells you enough that the benefits had outweighed the risks.

No more stories of students being taunted for doing absolutely nothing.

The boy in front of you clears his throat, trying to get your attention. “But, I’m willing to do anything else for you to stop ignoring me, or apologize for anything else.”

An idea flashes in your head.

“I know how you can make it up to me.” You say in lieu of a real response.

When you’d asked him for a favor, he’d gotten a little excited.

He’d thought it was somewhere along the lines of a date, like that crap he sees in movies. He didn’t think he’d have to model for a few shots in your portfolio.

“New piercing?” You ask, gesturing at your own lips to try and mirror the spot he’d gotten it. It’s silver and shiny, and definitely adds to the fuckboy appeal.

You shudder, you know your own parents would never agree to you doing the same.

“Like it?” Seungmin has the audacity to smirk, flaunting the silver on his lower lip. You simply roll your eyes.

(Though, the few seconds you spare to stare at it is enough judgment for him.

You lift your camera back up. “Alright. Just do whatever for now. Actually, maybe a hand in your pocket—yeah. That’s perfect.”

He does whatever the hell he can think of. And while most would’ve been embarrassed by now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. If it meant you’d stop ignoring him, he’d do this a million times over.

“Stay in that position.”

“Hmm, I like it when you’re being bossy.”

“Shut up.” You snap a shot, looking at the screen of your camera and smiling in contentment. You don’t give him the time to rest before you’re lifting it back up to eye-level.

And it goes on like that for a while. You use him to study lighting, and angles, and shadows, and forms.

Though, it’s a little difficult when he looks so damn attractive in everything. You might have a biased model. You’re afraid if you were to shoot him in shitty lighting, it would still turn out good.

“Alright.” You switch off your camera after flicking through the numerous shots you’d taken. “I think I’m done.”

“So, you’ll stop ignoring me now?”

He looks at you with everything so potently him when he’s with you.

“Uhuh.” You hum, letting your DSLR drop around your neck. He smiles victoriously.

None of you turn to leave.

You lament in the night air just a little longer, and Seungmin spends the time staring at you.

You suddenly turn to him. His gaze is a little too invasive not to notice. “What?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You.” There’s something about the way he says it that makes you look away. You could swear you saw a tint of red on the tip of his ears.

“Among other girls, I presume.”

He exhales. “No. Just you.”

“Resident fuckboy Kim Seungmin thinking about just one girl?”

“Fuck you.” Though, there’s no spit in the way he says it. His heart warms at the thought of you feeling comfortable enough to joke around with him now, despite you still coining him a fuckboy. He supposes that one’s on him for years of tainted reputation.

Your half laugh at being cursed echoes in his mind, lingering more there than in the air.

“You’re acting strange tonight, Seungmin.”

“You make me act strange.” His voice softens even though he’s essentially putting the blame on you for the way he was acting. And he says it in a way that makes you think he’s waiting for you to say something, or to at least understand the intentions behind his words.

You don’t know how to respond though. He sounds a little too serious to just merely be fucking around with you, like you’ve heard he does.

“The boys are saying I’m getting soft.” Seungmin doesn’t sound like he’s waiting for your response, so you let him continue talking. “Ever since that first night I met you. What the fuck did you do to me?”

He meets your eyes.

“Will you say something?”

You attempt to flat out your nerves at how he’s baring himself vulnerable in front of you all of a sudden. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t grown fond of the boy after his multiple attempts at getting your attention, but you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t think it was just another one of his ploys to get into your pants.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“I’m acting like a damn puppy following you around everywhere. And I let you boss me around for pictures when I could be drinking with my friends right now.” He’s still eye-to-eye with you, and it’s scary the way honestly spills from his.

“Then go drink with your friends then. ‘M not forcing you to be here.”

You’re so fucking stubborn, and he tries to search for your eyes but you aren’t looking at him anymore. Yours are downcast somewhere, on the ground, on anywhere but his eyes.

“Look at me.” You don’t know why, but you instantly do. Maybe it was in the way he said it, almost desperate. “I don’t want to drink with my friends. I want to be here with you. Because I like you.”

You crack a slow smile at his words, and at the way he’s stripped himself in genuine softness in front of you. It wasn’t everyday you’d see Kim Seungmin like this.

“So don’t think I’d lie to you about that.” He’s pouting again, and you tease him for it.

You get on your toes, get a good look on his face and the pout that adorns it. “Are you upset I thought you were lying?”

“Fuck off. I’m just—” He can’t help but laugh, pushing you away from him lest he wants to suffer the consequences of kissing you without your permission. He wants you to like him back, and if he has to do it slowly, so be it.

“Just give me a chance.” Almost pleading.

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “Okay.”

“I understand if you—” He suddenly pauses. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He stares at your lips, at the way it forms around the word, and he’s puzzled at how hot his face feels because he’s never been flustered like this. And he thinks his cheeks will start to burn if he doesn’t stop smiling. But he just can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’ve willingly given him a chance.

On your own autonomy.

“You won’t regret it.”

You don’t think you will.

#k-labels #seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #seungmin fanfic #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fanfic #seungmin drabbles #stray kids fic #stray kids oneshot #seungmin oneshot #kim seungmin oneshots #fuckboy seungmin x reader

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angeliicheartt · 2 months

Note

omg ily!!! congrats bb <3

🐬 "ᴘᴜʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ!" — send a dialogue prompt and a character and i'll write a blurb!

“stop looking at me like that” “like what?”

withhhhh ummmm shoto :3 (sorry i literally love him sm whehehjejejejjw)

ꜱᴛᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ

includes: shoto todoroki

fem!reader

a/n: i was determined to finish this, lmk how the tension is!! i was trying to focus on that. anyways have this to makeup for not posting anything but yapping today

2k wc.

shoto has a staring problem.

a staring at you problem. that’s what you’ve come to believe over the past week.

he just couldn’t believe how perfect you looked. he could care less how your hair looks today, or whether you have any makeup on or not, shoto believed your very being was perfect. his eyes raked over your features, his gaze almost affectionate. he watches as you write something that present mic said, completely ignoring the very loud man, opting to watch you write down your notes instead. he somehow hasn’t noticed your eyes darting to the side to look at him, trying to figure out why shoto has been staring at you for a good five minutes.

his heterochromic eyes never leave your face as you attempt to listen to present mic’s lesson, which shouldn’t be that hard with how loud he is right? wrong. it’s actually kind of difficult to do when one of class 1A’s finest guys is staring at you in class.

you tilt your head slightly to face him, raising an eyebrow, which catches his attention. you watch as the tips of his ears redden, causing you to suppress a smile.

“you okay?” you whisper, looking around to see if present mic was paying attention to you two, he wasn’t. shoto’s eyes strike yours as they flick to make eye contact. at first, he just stares at you, his lips parted before he blinks once, twice. his eyes dart away from yours, back to his desk as his hand comes to rest on his neck and you can just barely hear him mutter a small “yeah.”

he only peeks at you a few more times during the rest of the class period, and the rest of the day in fact. you retire to the dorms as classes get out, the majority of class A piling into the living room for some quality time. you settle on one of the smaller couches, your back against the arm rest as everyone finds a spot. And when everyone’s settled, you realize the only other person on this couch was shoto.

and he starts staring again.

and you truly don’t mind him staring, it just becomes unnerving when it seems like you’re the only one he’s even trying to pay attention to, like he’s just naturally tuning everything out but you. his head is rested in his palm as his arm props himself up, his torso and face turned towards you, like a sunflower to the sun.

and due to your position on the couch, anytime you angle your head forward, you meet his strangely soft gaze, his eyes studying every minute (extremely small) detail on your face. you feel your cheeks heat up under his watch before you feel mina draping across the back of the couch, her face propped up in her arms as they balance on the back cushions.

“what’s with that face, todoroki?” she asks, a small smirk on her lips as she follows shoto’s gaze to you before he rips his eyes away from you to respond to the pink girl.

“what face?” todoroki sincerely asks, his eyebrows pinched in confusion as his head tilts in the same manner, causing mina and her smirk deflate. she sighs dramatically, her eyes rolling as she straightens herself upright. you catch her eyes and you can feel your cheeks heat again as she winks at you.

“oh nothinggg..” she drags out as she grins cheekily before toddling off towards kaminari and kirishima.

your eyes track her as she walks off before looking forward once more, and once again meeting shoto’s gaze. you feel shy under his gaze, it seems scrutinizing, but if you really look, he’s only studying you, memorizing the way you are.

“do you wanna go outside?” you blurt out, “i mean.. like.. on one of our balconies?” you clarify, your fingers picking at eachother as you wait for his response, and after what feels like forever he nods, a small smile gracing his face. you feel the couch dip as he gets up, offering you a hand. you place your hand in his, his hand warm to the touch as it closes around yours. you use shoto to pull yourself up before heading out of the living area.

the two of you manage to sneak away from the rest of the class before drawing too much attention to yourselves and as the two of you successfully get away, you turn to shoto.

“which dorm are we going to?” you ask, watching as he turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowing in thought before they relax again, “we can go to mine.”

you nod as the two of you turn to the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor when it arrives. you lean against the back wall, your hands resting behind you on the handle bar. you can feel shoto’s gaze on you again, only this time he’s at least trying to be discreet, maybe mina’s comment threw him off.

you feel the elevator rumble as it arrives at the 5th floor, the bell dinging as the doors open, allowing you and shoto out. the two of you make it to his room in less than a minute, and when you arrive shoto opens the door, holding it open for you as well.

you slip between him and the wall into his room, admiring the traditional design of it all. sure, you saw it when all of class A did their room tours, but you could really admire it now. he watched as you examined his room, your eyes darting from one thing to another. he lets out a soft chuckle at your antics as he crosses the room to the balcony door, sliding it open as he looks back at you.

“are you coming?” he asks, and he could not seem more princely. the wind blows in through the cracked sliding door, hitting shoto’s hair just right, the little quirk of his lips not helping anything. mina’s comment was just putting thoughts in your head, right?

“y/n?” shoto’s eyebrow raised at your lack of response, which left you flustered. you nod as you hurry your feet over to the door. shoto’s eyebrows relax once again as you hurry over to him, holding open the sliding door for you as if it would shut if he wasn’t.

you graciously step through the doorway, instantly sighing as you feel the humid air, the lower temperatures of the evening allowing you to actually enjoy the summer heat. you hear shoto step outside as well, shutting the sliding door behind him. you cast a brief glance over your shoulder before moving to lean against the railing.

“you probably shouldn’t do that.” he says as he approaches the railing to the left of you, causing you to turn your head.

“how come?” you ask, an eyebrow raising as you show no hint of moving.

“if it breaks you could fall.” he says, his own arms moving to rest against the very same railing. you scoff at his action, causing his lips to quirk up again.

“as if you wouldn’t save me,” you quip and you actually pull a soft chuckle out of the boy beside you, causing your own smile to form.

shoto’s eyes practically light up at the sight of your smile, his cheeks warming as he props his arms against the railing properly, so that he’s able to admire you like he wants to. your smile softens as you meet his gaze, however you still hide half your face behind your hunched shoulder. but shoto doesn’t mind, he could stare at just your hand for hours, admiring each freckle or mole, each vein and hangnail.

and the look on his face and in his eyes is the same as earlier, an adoring, earnest, affectionate look, and you couldn’t fathom it.

“stop looking at me like that,” you sigh, your hands resuming their skin-picking activities. You could practically hear shoto’s confusion, you glance at him and see his eyebrows furrowed in your direction, and you almost wish you hadn’t looked.

“like what?” he asks, and you almost laugh, as if he doesn’t realize how he stares at you, like you hung the sun, the moon, and the stars, like you were his only joy, like you were his sun.

you settle for a scoff as your hand rubs at your eye. your eyebrows furrow as you try and figure out a way to explain to this clueless boy how flustered he makes you feel with a look. you sigh as you straighten yourself up, if only slightly.

“you look at me like you know me, like you’ve seen into my very being and accept all of it, like i could do no wrong, like.. like you're in love with me or something..” you spout, your cheeks heating up as you explain, though you have nothing to embarrassed of.

“oh.” is all shoto says, his voice monotone as it usually is, but it seemed almost tainted by dejection. the change in voice causes you to look over at him, you head turning as you see him staring at the ground, his cheeks practically on fire.

“you want me to stop? so.. i made you uncomfortable, im sorry.” shoto says, and his voice sounds almost pained and you can see his hands tightening into fists as they rest against the railing.

“i didn’t mean it like that!” you exclaim, your hand grabbing the railing dangerously close to his tightening fists. “truly, it honestly just confuses me..” you say as you relax once more, seeing shoto’s fists relax.

“please tell me,” shoto says, and his tone almost sounded like a beg. your cheeks heat up as he parts from the railing, causing you to turn and when you do you realize how close he is, only he’s now facing you straight on, and you can’t hide from his gaze. “i want to understand you.”

you sigh, your eyes darting to your side before you look back to him, avoiding looking into his eyes as you speak.

“you may not know this, but you’re one of the best looking guys in our class, and honestly all of UA, and it just threw me off. the way you looked at me, like i was special, just.. baffled me.” you say. your eyes finally meet his again, and you can see confusion swirling in them, his eyebrows creased in the same manner. your foot digs into the hard concrete of the balcony and your hand scrubs at your face, embarrassed by your sudden confession and shoto’s prolonged silence.

“ugh, nevermind, forget i said anything,” you rush out as you try to side step the two-toned boy, only getting a few paces past him before his voice stops you.

“but..” you turn to look at him, and he turns to face you, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “you are special.”

your lips part but no sound comes out as you stare into his eyes, your own brows pinched with emotion. the way he said it so surely, as if it was utterly absurd to even entertain the thought of you not being special.

“really?” you ask, and you wince as you hear yourself, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself from asking. it was reactive, your subconscious craving your deserved praise.

shoto nods, his lips quirking into a soft smile. And you return his smile, your eyes are a little watery, but the lowlight coming from shoto’s dorm helps you disguise that.

“do you.. want a hug?” he offers, unsure if it’s what you need in the moment but you jump at the opportunity. you wrap your arms around his waist, giggling as his arms hesitant before wrapping around your shoulders.

“is this okay..?” he murmurs into your hair and you fight back a grin as you nod, “yeah, it’s perfect.”

the two of you untangle your arms from eachother, but as you do you hear mina’s distinctive gasp. turning you see her on sero’s balcony, staring wide eyed at the two of you.

“i called it! sero! come out here!” mina yells before sero shushes her, causing her to whine as she gets dragged back into his dorm and sending an apologetic look to the two of you.

once he closes the door once again, you turn back to shoto, and as he mirrors your action the two of you burst into a small fit of giggles.

maybe his staring wasn’t so bad.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis @kozumesphone

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bunnyhugs77 · 1 year

Text

City Seven

Pairing: Jungkook x Waitress! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: reader is kind of unfiltered, judgy! reader, quiet! jungkook, pierced! jungkook, inspired by the seven mv, judging a book by its cover, obessed! jungkook, ft jimin, reader eats her words, jungkook is a little cocky.

Other Content

Jungkook is filthy and a little mean, big dick! jungkook, dom! jungkook, strength kink, unprotected sex (don’t even), jungkook has a high sex drive, brat tamer! jungkook?, hair pulling.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Y/n!” Laura practically shouts your name as she walked into the bustling kitchen where you collected three main courses, balancing two on your palms and the last one on your forearm.

You’d become pretty competent as a waitress after being one for the last three years, balancing the meals and listening to Laura was an easy feat. “What?” You lean in to hear her clearly as the sound of clanging pots and yelled orders were swirling in the air.

“Let me take this table from you, serve table 4.” Your brows furrowed as you felt Laura help herself to take the plates from you. “W-what are you doing?” You stop her from taking the last plate from you, curious to know what she was up to.

“Just trust me. They ordered two old fashions, now go!” She says as if she was bursting with anticipation. You let her take the last plate from you, a little disappointed because the family you were serving seemed like they were going to leave a good tip but you trusted Laura. Sort of.

Once you got hold of the two alcoholic beverages you leaned into the swinging door with your hip and walked through heading to table 4, and once you spotted Jimin sitting there you knew something was up.

“Two old fashions.” You smile, placing them down gently while making sure nothing spilled. You put Jimin’s down first and for the first time made eye contact with the unfamiliar brunette.

He smiles at you. “Y/n, this is my friend, Jungkook.” You smile back to be polite. “It’s nice to meet you.” Your expression showed kindness but in your heart, you were more than ready to kill Laura.

She was always trying to hook you up with someone while on the job. Either way, he wasn’t really your type, he seems too quiet and soft-spoken. Your type was the kind of guy that was more outgoing and could take control.

Before you could ask the two what they wanted to order you felt a light grip on your bicep tugging you away near the bathrooms. “Laura! What are you doing? I’m trying to do my job.” You weren’t sure if you had said those words out loud based on the way she completely disregarded your words and replaced them with her own.

“He’s cute right?” She inquires and your brows furrow almost immediately at her jumpiness. “Who?” You were playing dumb and it was obvious.

Laura deadpans. “You know who I’m talking about. Jungkook, obviously. He’s cute right?” Her smile creeps its way back onto her face as she speaks but you back away from her leaning against the wall that you had no idea Jungkook was listening through.

“I mean, yeah sure but he looks too..” Jungkook’s brow raises as he waited for you to find the words. “nice.” You finish. “He looks like he’s a nice guy, y’know? The kind that holds the door and cries when he comes.” Both his and Laura’s jaws drop in astonishment. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Laura covers her mouth giggling with a snort but she soon starts to pout.

“You really don’t think he’s cute?” She asks again and you groan. Laura was insufferable, she just did not know when to give up. “I never said that. Maybe in the country, he’s a 10, but here, he’s a city 7 at best.” Jungkook had heard enough and made his way back to his seat.

Never in his entire life had he been ranked anything below a 10, he’s even scored a few 12s but a city 7? How could you? He knew he was a 10. He deserves a 10. Not to mention your little comment about him crying when he comes; he was going to make sure you ate your words.

He made sure to lay it on thick for the rest of the night. Dark stares and suggestive comments, so much so that Jimin had to excuse himself twice just to give you both privacy.

Whether you wanted to admit it or not this city 7 was starting to grow on you. He had a sarcastic sense of humour paired with an enchanting smile. You supposed you could give him a chance.

One chance was all he needed.

3 weeks and two dates later the two of you found yourselves stumbling into your apartment, with Jungkook kissing you desperately as you both kicked your shoes off and he shrugged off his jacket all while you led him to the bedroom but you paused in your steps at the revelation of his sleeve of tattoos.

you had no idea these were hiding beneath his denim jackets and turtlenecks. if you’d known about the tattoos and the bulging muscles that were covered up so well, you never would’ve called him a 7. He’s a total 10, and he was about to prove it to you.

“W-wha-” you loosely pointed your finger to his muscular physique as he worked on undoing his belt. he grins wickedly as he glances up, relishing in the victorious feeling of seeing you go awestruck at the sight of his body.

he steps towards you slowly, the branded waistband of his boxers peeking over his jeans. “what? never seen a few tattoos before?” he smiles in that same pleasing way he always does and it irks you, because you know he knows what he’s doing.

all this time you’ve been underestimating him. “what-- when, how- “ he gently cups your face and whispers against your lips, “You ask too many questions.” that was the last thing you heard before his lips were on yours again.

The kiss was unlike any of the tender and sweet ones from before. this one was hungry, messy and bordering animalistic. The way his tongue worked with yours in an erotic harmony made you forget all about your presumptions of him when you first met him. he may be quiet but he most certainly wasn’t shy, especially not now.

he laid you down on the bed and he kissed all over your body. abusing your sweet spot that was below your ear. the sounds of your heavy breathing that slowly but surely morphed into breathy moans were only inflating his ego. if he could get you this desperate just from his mouth he knew he could absolutely ruin you with his cock.

for you on the other hand the last 45 minutes seem to have been a blur. One minute you and jungkook were out at the bar listening to the jazz band fill the room with an undeniably sensual ambience. you were feeling a bit bold and let your heel run up the inseam of his pants under the table.

and he’d warned you to stop since you were in public but you were in a defiant mood and continued anyways. pressing down his cock with the tip of your stilettos watching his accessorized fist ball up the tablecloth in an attempt to bite back his groan. within seconds you felt his grip around your ankle and push your foot down before abruptly standing up.

not without discreetly adjusting himself in his slacks but of course you noticed it. “Get up. We’re leaving.” he orders but you pouted, “but I wanted to listen to the music.” The look he gave you was like none other he’d seen before. you were used to pushing his buttons, it was just in your nature to piss him off but he usually didn’t care much or if he did he didn’t show it.

“Now.” you roll your eyes and followed him out of the bar.

It's thanks to your previous behaviour that jungkook had decided to edge you twice on his fingers and tongue. you were squirming and insufferable forcing him to pin your thighs down with his arms as he continued to eat you out like a man starved.

“ju-jungkook! please-” you begged, refusing to look at the man between your legs, staring up at the tear-blurred ceiling instead. “Please what? What do you want?” He’s an evil man for asking you such a question and cutting you off with the works of his tongue once again leading you to scream out.

you sounded like sin, wrapped in a body that was clearly shaped by the gods above and gifted to him personally. “let me cum--please!” He pulls away from you right when he felt you were on the edge again, pushing down on your legs as he felt you begin to thrash around.

“stay still princess, or I won’t let you cum.” the name was doing you wonders and you swore you could see stars. “please, I’ve been good.” and jungkook just has to laugh, because what a fucking liar you are. “Really? Do you think teasing me out in public is being good? Why should I let you cum hm? Aren’t I just a City 7? Only 10′s can make you cum right?”

your eyes shot open wide and for the first time you looked down at him in shock, “y-you heard me-” he didn’t give you the chance to respond before he was abusing your clit with his tongue bringing you over the edge so quickly your body could hardly process it. you came with the scream of his name.

“Look who’s crying when they cum.” he mocks you, throwing your own words back in your face.

Without a break, you were being manhandled and flipped over onto your stomach as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. your back arching at the intrusion of the swollen head of his cock pushing between your folds. jungkook had to brace himself as he thrust inside your soaked cunt.

a deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling he’d been searching for for weeks. He’s dreamt about this moment for weeks, way before you even knew who he was. When he’d seen pictures of you and Jimin at Laura’s place he knew he had to have you.

“ooh fuck!” you moan once jungkook bottomed out, you hadn’t realized just how thick he was until you felt his cock split you open all around “yeah, you like that?” You nod repeatedly, unable to speak. Your arms were feeling weak and soon your head was flush against your pillows.

“Answer me, baby.” he grunts, punctuating his demands with a particularly powerful snap of his hips. one that sent the fat of your ass rippling with each thrust. “yes! fuck! I love it, love your cock, please don’t stop.” you whine loudly taking everything he gave you.

That only encouraged him to absolutely drill into your poor pussy, the sounds of your bare flesh slapping against one another ricocheted off the walls and back into your ears. you had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into with him. you felt yourself inching closer and closer to that ecstasy, you were so close you could taste and jungkook could most certainly feel it.

the way your walls convulsed around him nearly restricting his range of motion, “Ah shit baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groans next to your ear, the tone of his voice sending you into shock. god you were so close, but jungkook was slowing down. “why-”

“you wanna cum?” he asks you, and you nod as if you were on autopilot. “please,” you beg for the nth time. “Then take it back.” you really tried your best to understand what he was referring to. “Take back what you said about me being a city 7” you hesitated for a minute, regaining enough strength to hold yourself up again, fighting between your bratty nature and your throbbing pussy.

“Okay fine, you can get yourself off.” he shrugs, beginning to pull out but you push your hips back up against his pelvis. “No- no!” he grins at the sound of your objections, resuming his wild pace as though he had never stopped.

he pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, his erratic thrusts never faltering as he did so, “Say it.” he growls in your ear and your eyes roll back as you felt his cock rub against a certain spot within you, “I take it back! You’re a 10, everything about you is a 10, you’re a 10- fuck! please let me cum!” he smiles, satisfied with your words.

“Cum.” you didn’t hold back, you came down with a piercing moan that you’re sure your neighbours would be complaining about tomorrow morning, jungkook following closely behind you.

Initially, you’d thought you and Jungkook’s little night would be a one-time thing but he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you, no matter how hard he tried.

His dick begged to see you again, and he made sure he did.

At Jimin’s birthday party, he had you bent over the bathroom counter, he would come over and fuck you against the wall, holding you up steady as ever as he pounded into you. Every second of every day he found a way to be inside you.

That’s how you found yourself tangled up in his sheets the morning after one of the filthiest nights you’d ever experienced with a guy. “Good morning,” you heard Jungkook whisper in the rasp of his morning voice as he kissed your collarbones. Slowly making his way up your neck, “Jungkook, aren’t you tired?”

He shrugs with a foolish grin, “Why would I be? I’ll never get tired of fucking your brains out.” You laugh, “Really? Never?” He shakes his head.

“Seven days a week.”

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cyber333angel · 5 months

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a few people wanted the drabble of sitting on jjs face so here it is!

your boyfriend had been away on a pogue adventure all day leaving you alone in your shared apartment. needy for him but not having him here to help you release, you tried everything from your small hands (which couldn’t do the job, not like jj’s calloused and rough hands which gets you in all the right spots) to the little pink bullet vibrator jj keeps in a drawer when he plays with you(only climaxing when he has his dick buried deep inside of you holding the vibrator to your clit). none of it was doing what you really needed it to do like your jj so you text him. moving your panties to the side and taking a selfie of your painfully wet cunt you text him, “want you home jayj..” with an attachment.

jj’s phone pings in his back pocket, taking it out he sees a message from you“hooooly fuck..woah..uh guys there’s like a family emergency back home like—a car crash a terrible terrible crash so imma dip and we can “reconcile” this like tomorrow, yeah?” the pogues look at him with a disgusted face, and john b speaks up, “ew dude, we know it’s your girlfriend. you better come back tomorrow we have a lea—oh whatever.” he stops talking, seeing jj put on his helmet and get on his bike, starting the gear. about 10 minutes later jj bust through the door to see you in silk but slightly sheer pink, nightgown.

he basically pounces on you right then and there. grabbing your head and kissing you deeply, exchanging saliva from the both of your tongues. jj pulls back “babycakes you can’t send me something like that and..wear something like this. it’s bad for my heart im telling ya.” you giggle at his deprivation, taking your hands and lifting your skirt up you show him your exposed cunt. “s’achey down there jayj.. need you to make me cum!” wet slick dripping down your thigh, jj almost throttles “oh jesus..you drive me fucking crazy.” he grabs you from the waist, hoisting you up on his shoulder and runs into your shared bedroom. making out with you he lays his head down on the pillow, grabbing you to straddle his chest. “get on top sweet girl, if y’re so needy you can ride my face.” you whimper at the suggestion and shake your head frantically. “jayj I cant do that! what if I suffocate you!” he rolls his eyes “baby the best way to die would honestly be in between-“ you cover his mouth with your hands preventing him from finishing the embarrassing sentence. “okay okay! ill do it.”

“atta girl.” you get closer to jj’s face, thighs hovering over him as you grip the headboard. “papa your face is gonna get messy!” he gets impatient with your excuses “that’s just fine sweet cheeks, but this not what mean-“ he grabs your thighs and pulls you down to mouth, mumbling “dis is what I meant.” you shiver at the contact, jj thrusts his tongue up into your cunt, slurping at your juices. “y’always taste so fuckin delicious baby..fuck.” he moves to your sensitive bud sucking knit gently and rolling it in his mouth “angh, jj your makin me feel s-so good, oh god!” he hooks his arm from under your thigh and starts rubbing your clit, sticking his tongue back into your pulsing hole. “go on princess, try to grind that sweet pussy on my tongue.” you grip the headboard, helping your balance to move your lower body forward and backwards in a slow pace. “mmmh it feels so good papa! oh your gonna make me cum!” you hear the squelches of your needy cunt and you clench around jj’s tongue. grinding yourself across his face to climax, your clit stroking on him. “f-fuck papa..s’good..” you mind going blank from the intense climax, you twitch and hover off jj’s face falling on his chest. jj sits up grabbing you by the shoulders to hug you, seeing the wet spot seethe through his pants. “well fuck babydoll..all your fussing made me cum too..shit.”

#jj x reader <3 #obx smut #jj maybank x black!reader #jj mayback x reader #obx x reader #jj maybank #to make up for rafe punching him in my last fix <3 papa jj #rafe x reader <3 #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x black reader #rafe blurb

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starry-crossing-zone · 6 months

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General Storyteller - Rex

Summary: After the Battle of Kamino, Rex finds you surrounded by clone cadets. Length: 1.4k Warnings: Post-Battle; Lots of Teasing; Rex's Flirting is Improving

The battle of Kamino had yielded heavy and unfortunate losses, but the Republic managed to repel the Separatists in the end. Rex, after promoting Echo and Fives to ARC Troopers, sought out the generals. He walked over to where Jesse and Hardcase were relaxing, assuming they would have an idea.

“Has anyone seen the generals?” Rex asked, resting his bucket against his hip.

“General Skywalker’s at the south end of the city, but I have a feeling that you’re not asking about him,” Jesse quipped, causing Rex to narrow his eyes. “She’s with Kix in the infirmary.”

“You know how she always turns into a mother hen after battle,” Hardcase reminded his captain, leaning back against the wall. He elbowed Jesse with a mischievous grin. “She’s probably giving shinies heart attacks.”

“Well, if she can make our esteemed captain blush, what hope do the shinies have, Hardcase?”

Rex, tuning out the rest of their conversation, turned and made his way to the infirmary. Due to the overflow from battle, it had expanded into the mess hall. But Rex assumed that a Jedi would be easy to spot among the clones and Kaminoans. But when he didn’t spot you, Rex made his way over to Kix, who was setting another trooper’s ankle.

“Kix, have you seen the general?”

“She’s in the other room,” Kix stated, pointing to his right. “You won’t be able to miss her.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, but continued on his way. Stepping into one of the wings of the infirmary, Rex paused when he spotted exactly what Kix was talking about. You sat at the end of the room, smiling and talking with all of the young clone cadets gathered around you.

“And then the bridge started to collapse,” you retold dramatically as you carefully bandaged up a cadet’s wrist. “The Separatists planted detonators along the bridge and lured us onto it. And the tactical droid tried to blow us all up.”

“How did you escape?” one of the cadets asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Well, we started running. Anakin and I pushed your brothers to safety with the Force because all of you and all of your brothers in every corner of this galaxy are important to us.”

You gently poked one of the cadets on the tip of his nose to emphasize your point. He blushed bright red, reminding you of another clone, and looked down at his feet bashfully while one of his brothers grabbed his shoulders from behind.

“And no good leader and certainly no good Jedi would say otherwise,” you added, looking out around at the clone cadets.

Rex was quite sure that the meaning behind your story was not part of the approved Kaminoan curriculum, but he couldn’t help but smile at his younger brothers’ reactions to your story. You smiled and finished up with bandaging a cadet’s wrist before continuing with the story.

“But then we had to run to safety ourselves. Now, Anakin was lucky enough that he was standing close to the edge. So, he escaped easily. But I wasn’t so lucky because a lingering detonator went off right behind me, causing me to lose my balance.”

“What happened next?” a cadet gasped.

“Shhh!” one of the other cadets shushed his brother.

“I’m getting to it,” you promised them with a chuckle. “As I was saying, your brother, Captain Rex, grabbed a long gun—right out of Mule’s hands, mind you—and shot a cable at me.”

“Did he hit you?” one of the cadets asked quickly.

“Do you think I’d miss, Cadet?” Rex called out teasingly.

“Captain Rex!” the cadets called turning around to see him walking towards them.

They all jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Rex stopped in front of the crowd of his young brothers and dismissed them, urging them to sit down again. He turned to you as the cadets got settled again. And even though Rex felt a familiar heat start to climb up his neck, he moved to take a seat on one of the beds. Clearing his throat as you offered him a soft smile, he nodded.

“You were saying, General.”

“Right, Captain,” you mused before turning back to his brothers. “No, Captain Rex didn’t hit me with the cable. It landed in front of me and I held onto it as the bridge tumbled down. And with some help from some of your other brothers, he pulled me up to safety.”

“Captain Rex saved your life?”

“Yes, he did,” you stated without hesitation.

“To be fair, you’ve saved mine a number of times, General,” Rex spoke up, causing you to smile.

“Yes, shall I tell all of you one of those stories next?”

The cadets cheered but Rex got back to his feet and motioned towards the door. You nodded and slowly stood up, causing the cadets to sigh and whine. Giving them a kind smile, you kneeled down so that you were eye level with all of them again.

“I must go back to being a general. But you should try and find General Kenobi, for he’s an even better story teller than me. But which battalion is the best in the GAR again?”

“The 501st!”

“And don’t you forget it,” Rex added, causing his younger brothers to grin.

Bidding the cadets goodbye, you stood up and walked with Rex out of the infirmary. The two of you moved in silence for a moment before Rex turned to you with a soft look.

“You survived the battle alright, General?”

“I should be asking you that question, Rex. This is your home. All of your homes.” You sighed and added quietly, “I’m sorry we didn’t defend it better.”

“Kamino was always a target to the Seppies,” Rex stated, turning to look forward again. “But thank you, General.” Clearing his throat a bit, Rex turned forward once again. “And thank you for looking after the cadets. They were bred for war, but they were never trained for it to happen in their own home.”

“Of course,” you returned, nodding politely. “I have a soft spot for children. I believe my master’s habits rubbed off on me.”

“It’s not a bad habit to have.”

“Well, and clone cadets are adorable. In a way, the clones and the Jedi have a lot in common. We were raised communally as well. It’s a setup most citizens find unnatural, almost.”

“Well, your people can move things with their minds. My brothers and I all share the same face. They might not be far off,” Rex quipped, causing you to chuckle.

Stepping into the lift together, you stood side by side as you made your way back to the upper floors of the facility. No doubt that Shaak Ti and Obi-Wan were looking for the two of you. Placing your hands on your hips and turned to Rex with a mischievous smile.

“What were you like as a cadet, Rex?”

“Top of my class, of course.”

“Of course,” you agreed teasingly, causing Rex to tilt his chin up. “But don’t tell me that you were always this stoic and brooding.”

“Brooding?” Rex repeated, earning a laugh in return.

“Come on, Rex. You must have broken a few rules in your time on Kamino.”

“I would assume as many as you did when you were a padawan, General.”

“My master was on the Jedi High Council, so I had an image to uphold.” After a moment, you added with a grin, “But also more time unsupervised. And, well, Anakin was a poor influence on me.” Your smile softened as you turned back to Rex. “Perhaps I’ll tell you some of those stories one day, Captain.”

“I look forward to it, General.”

Stepping off the elevator together, you and Rex shared a smile before Commander Cody called out to the two of you. Rex winced when he spotted Cody’s knowing look and you pulled on a more professional expression in the presence of the marshal commander.

“General Kenobi requested your assistance with moving some of the larger pieces of debris,” Cody told you. “He’s in the eastern part of the city.”

“Thank you, Commander Cody, I will go meet him.” Nodding to Cody, you turned to Rex, who returned your burning gaze. “I’ll see you later, Captain.”

And with that, you walked down the hall and away from them. You couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder at Rex. Staring after you until your figure disappeared around the corner, Rex ignored Cody’s stare and smirk. Rolling his eyes, Rex brushed past his brother.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” Cody called after him, causing Rex to wince.

“Stow it, Cody.”

#the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x jedi reader #captain rex x you #sw tcw #tcw #star wars tcw #clone wars #rex x reader #star wars clones

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daenysx · 4 months

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imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show

thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!

james potter x fem!reader, fluff

"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.

"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."

"with the cleansing jel?"

"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.

"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.

"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.

"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.

"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."

"oh." he teases. "okay."

you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.

james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.

"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."

"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"

"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."

"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.

"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"

this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.

james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.

"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."

you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"

"i feel like a baby."

you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."

it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."

"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."

"hmm."

you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.

"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.

"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."

applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.

"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."

"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"

you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"

"not the same thing."

"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."

you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"

"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."

"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"

james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.

you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."

you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."

"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."

"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."

"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."

you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."

"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."

you laugh until your chest hurts.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fanfic #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fics

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