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alcinadimitrescuwu · 4 years ago

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Welcome to the Family, Boy (Alcina x Fem!Reader Fanfic)

First thank you all for your support for my first Dimitrescu fanfic. I truly appreciate it and all the support this community has given me on. Let's go on to the next one, shall we?

Premise: After a long and stressful week, your wife Alcina wants to help you let off some steam. However, your amorous activities are cut short by an unexpected surprise.

Warning: blood. There are some steamy scenes in here but nothing explicit, so it's mostly safe for work.

As you climb the stairs to your bedroom, you heave a great sigh. It’s been a long and stressful week. Daniela had caused a small fire in the wine cellar basement by knocking over a lantern when she had gotten a little too eager for a feeding. It was eventually put out, but the corpse was burned in the process. Alcina had been furious at the waste of resources. It had taken a full day to get rid of the ash, but the basement was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. Aside from the wine cellar, Alcina didn’t seem to care much about cleaning up the basement. Well, it was over now. Now you just couldn’t wait to curl up next to your wife and get a good sleep.

You arrive at your doorway and hear Maria Callas singing “Casta Diva” from within. You smile. Your mutual love for opera was one of the first things you discussed as you were courting. Before you reach your hand to knock at the door, you hear Alcina call, “Is that you iubirea mea?”

“Yes, dear,” you reply. You stretch your arms behind your head. “Oh, I just can’t wait to get into bed-” Your voice cuts off as you see what your wife is wearing. She is wearing a black peignoir and as she stands up, she casts it off to reveal a black and red lingerie set.

She smiles wickedly. “I can’t wait to get into bed with you either.”

You don’t move. You can only stare. Her scarlet lips match the exact shade of the lingerie. Without any sleeves, you see her muscular arms and you blush as you recall what those arms feel like wrapped around you. Her legs are on full display as well with a red stocking clipped to a garter. They reach up to your shoulders and you have spent many a time nestled in them with your head on her lap. You open your mouth to reply but find nothing coming out.

Alcina pouts and puts one hand behind her on the bed. “Come, pet,” she purrs, beckoning you with a red fingernail. “You’re not going to stand there all day, are you?”

You don’t say anything. You cross the space between you and your wife in three steps and launch yourself over into her waiting arms. The scent of her perfume is overwhelming and you breathe it in. You close your eyes and kiss her chin, her laugh lines and finally her lips. She laughs through the kiss and holds your head between her hands. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t talk,” you rasp, your voice full of desire.

She smiles. “All right, draga mea. No talking then.” She kisses you deeply and you weave your hands through her locks.

She picks you up and carries you across the room, kissing all the while until you reach the wall. You lean your head on the wall behind you and wrap your legs around her waist. “I’ve needed this, my love,” you whisper against her lips.

Ding dong!

You hear the doorbell resound through the castle. You break the kiss and fix her with a quizzical expression. “Were you expecting anyone?” you ask.

She shakes her head quickly. “No. Could be a solicitor. Could be a vampire hunter coming to put a stake in all our hearts.” Her golden eyes are glazed over with desire. “Right now I couldn’t care less at the moment.” She nuzzles your neck and you sigh. She breaks away and looks at you, an unasked question in her eyes. She’s hungry. You nod your consent and she pulls away your nightgown to bear your neck and shoulders. She pulls you close and bites your neck and feeds on the blood pooling around your neck. You feel her neck working against your chest as she drinks. You take pleasure in every gasp and moan she makes. You feel pleasantly light-headed by the time she pulls away with a satisfied sigh.

Ding dong!

Alcina groans and bares her teeth in anger. “It’s getting too late for this!”

You caress her jaw. “Dear, maybe we should answer it. It could be an emergency.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “It’s probably some snot-nosed kid playing a prank.” She lifts your chin with a finger and gives you a seductive grin. “Don’t focus on it right now, pet. Right now is about you and me.”

“You’re probably right-” She stops the rest of your sentence with a rough kiss, opening your mouth with her tongue. Her hand travels up your leg and her hand making contact against your bare leg gives you a pleasant chill. Her hand rests on your thigh and she pushes you up against the wall again while using her nimble fingers to unhook your garter.

Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!

Alcina gives a frustrated growl. “Damn it to hell!”

“Darling,” you say gently petting her arm as a signal to set you down. “If it were kids, they’d be bored and have gone home by now. I’m going to check who it is.”

Your wife crosses her arms and gives an adorable pout. “Fine. Do what you want.”

You adjust your nightgown and wipe any leftover blood and lipstick off your neck. As you walk to the door, Alcina gently puts your dressing gown around your shoulders. You catch her hand and give it a kiss. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to get dressed.”

You smile at her. “Very well, darling.” As you turn to leave the door, Alcina catches your shoulder and whispers huskily, “And after we get back, we will most certainly get back the lost time that nuisance has stolen from us.”

You blush furiously and kiss her goodbye. As you walk down the stairs, you hear the doorbell ring again. Once, twice, three times. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming.” You grasp the brass handles and with a great effort manage to open the doors wide. You’re jealous of Alcina in moments like these. She could open the doors with such ease that you forget that each door weighed hundreds of pounds.

You are surprised to see Heisenberg holding something wrapped in cloth. You can’t help but smile when you see Heisenberg. Heisenberg and Alcina may be like oil and water, but the two of you liked each other almost instantly. He told you once that “anyone who could put up with that bitch for more than 20 seconds must be a good person. And you have to put up with her for life!”

Heisenberg returns your smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hi Karl. How about you come in and warm up with a nice cup of tea?” You stand aside to allow him in. “Come on. It’s freezing out there.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, honey, but I really can’t stay long. Is your ball and chain around? This question concerns her too.”

“Heisenberg,” you hear your wife’s drawl. You both look to see her descending the stairs. There is no evidence of your amorous activities as she has on a fresh coat of lipstick, is fully dressed and her hair is pinned perfectly in place under her hat. “To what do I owe this rather unpleasant surprise?”

Heisenberg clenches his teeth. “Believe me, I wouldn’t come here unless it was an emergency.”

“Then what is it?” Alcina asks as she puts her left hand on your shoulder. You reach up to cover it with your own. “Out with it, and be on your way. Some of us would rather be in bed right now.”

Heisenberg notes your kiss-swollen lips and a hickey already starting to form on your neck. “Yes, I suppose some of us rather would.”

Alcina’s eyes flash and she grits her teeth. “Heisenberg, I swear-”

Heisenberg puts up a placating hand while he holds the bundle with his other. “Ok, ok. I’ll cut to the chase then. Sheesh, do you have any sense of humor?” He unwraps the bundle to reveal a mewling French bulldog. It can’t be more than a couple weeks old.

As you place your hand on your heart Heisenberg continues. “I found him outside of his house. Whole damned family was slaughtered. He needs a place to stay. I thought this might be the best place for him.”

You look at your wife with pleading eyes, but she gives a sharp, “No.”

“Darling-”

“No.” She glares at Heisenberg. “Why can’t you take him in? Maybe it would be an opportunity for you to learn some responsibility for once in your cursed existence.”

You see Heisenberg roll his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yes, and I’d be responsible for him being torn apart by Lycans. I’m not taking him in. It’s not safe for him there.”

You take your wife’s hand in yours. “Darling, please reconsider. We can’t turn the poor thing away. Besides, our daughters would love having a d-”

She immediately puts a hand over your mouth. “Don’t say it,” she warns, looking furtively around the foyer.

“What?” you ask against her hand. “Dog?”

Almost immediately your daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela materialize from their fly shrouds. They zero in on the dog and Cassandra takes him out of Heisenberg’s hands and the other two crowd around her and begin cooing to it, and letting it sniff and lick their fingers.

Alcina covers her face with her hands. “Now you’ve done it, love.”

The girls look up from their ministrations to the dog and as one rush over to your wife, carrying the dog over with them. They begin speaking up all at once. “Mother, please can we keep him?” “Mother, look how cute he is!” “Mother, Cassandra’s been hogging the dog all this time and it’s my turn to hold him!”

“Enough!” Alcina’s voice booms around the foyer. She puts two fingers in the space between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She sighs aloud. “God, I need a smoke.” She turns to her daughters and with a long suffering sigh says, “Fine. We’ll keep the little mongrel.”

All three daughters erupt into cheers and you can’t help but smile indulgently at them. Daniela runs over and throws her arms around your neck in jubilation. “Maman, did you hear that? We get to have a dog finally!”

“Yes, dearest, I did hear that.” You drop a kiss on her head and she scampers over to take the dog which Cassandra begrudgingly hands to her.

Heisenberg grins and reaches in his pocket. “I have some food and a water bottle for him,” he says, handing you the aforementioned items. “The Duke should have some more, but that’s all I have right now.”

“Thank you Karl,” you say, reaching over to scratch the dog behind his ears. “We’ll take good care of it, won’t we girls?”

“Yes, Maman!” they all answer in unison.

“I’ll be off then!” Heisenberg turns to leave but not before shouting over his shoulder, “And I think he should fit in pretty nicely around here, especially since the Lady of the House is such a bi-”

In an instant, Alcina has him off the ground and has her claws extended only a few inches from his neck. “Heisenberg, did you want to finish that sentence?” she asks sweetly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Let him down, my love. It’s not worth getting so riled up this late at night”

“Fine,” she says and sets him down not too gently. He brushes himself off and glares at Alcina for the rough landing. She just flashes a smile and you notice that only her middle finger is extended in claw form. You look at your daughters, but they are too busy with the dog to notice the obscene hand gesture.

“All right, this time I’m really off.” he says, turning around and walking towards the castle gates.

“Girls, what do you say?” you prompt.

“Thank you, Uncle Karl!” they chorus. Bela snatches the dog and runs upstairs, vanishing in her bug shroud. The girls run after her, Daniela yelling down the hall, “No fair! I wasn’t finished with him yet!”

Alcina closes the doors and leans against them, sighing. “I just hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

You take her hand and kiss it. “Nothing we can do about it now, my love. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” The two of you hold hands and once you arrive at your shared bedroom, Alcina immediately locks the door, pulls you close and fixes you with a wolfish grin. “Now where were we, draga mea?”

“I thought you said you wanted to smoke first?” You laugh and wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah, iubirea mea,” she say picking you up again and giving you a sloppy kiss. “Cigarettes always taste better after sex.”

You kiss her as you unbutton her dress and she puts her hand in the same spot on your thigh as before, this time successfully unhooking your garter. You bite her lip playfully and she gives a little growl of pleasure.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door and you hear Daniela’s voice, “Mother? Maman? The dog peed all over the carpet in Bela’s room!”

“Only because you led him there!” you hear Bela retort.

Alcina leans her forehead against yours and starts swearing in Romanian. You give her a kiss and pat her hand before you see to your daughters.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re8 village #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady dimitrescu x female reader #bela dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu

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clairdelunelove · 2 years ago

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Wake Up!

quentin smith x reader, dbd survivor x reader, brief mentions of nea & bill

genre: fluff, slight angst, based on gameplay

warnings: mentions of blood/gore/drugs, cursing, 7.5k words!

synopsis: being stuck in a dbd trial where the killer is your biggest nightmare is one challenge. the other challenge is being stuck in a dbd trial with your long-time crush.

a.n. a lil different from my usual posts but I’ve been obsessed with playing dead by daylight! always wanted to write something for our fav sleepy boi (he makes me so haPPY) but ran into writer’s block and life happens but here it is!

A sharp inhale causes you to sputter, choking on your own spit as you become familiar with your surroundings. Once again, you’re placed into terrain that appears recognizable yet uncanny. There’s an itch in your brain that acknowledges your prediction, but you know that nothing appears to be what it seems. The layout is always unique. Every time you think that there’s a pattern, a method to madness if you will, you’ve been incorrect. The Entity, this malevolent being that controls the Trial Grounds and Realms, shuffles the Realm that you’re dropped into. You’re prey for The Entity. Ever since you were whisked away– away from your life– you’ve never been able to escape. You were a survivor and a mere pawn for The Entity– a form of cruel entertainment for it as you battled life or death.��

Escape seemed to be a fever dream as you completed each Trial. Regardless of the outcome, you were revived by The Entity and kept until the next Trial. You were left empty. With each passing Trial, your recollection of any memories is wiped clean. Yet you were encouraged, more so forced, to escape each Trial alive. If you died during a Trial, there was a price. Compensation, per The Entity would say, as it takes a piece of your soul. The innate will to live– the hunger to escape from the grips of The Entity– would be stolen from you. Each accumulated death would cause you to shrivel up into nothingness.

You couldn’t succumb to that.

You were a survivor.

“Doing alright, (Y/n)?”

A hushed and gentle inquiry snaps you out of your daze. The voice is familiar– so much so that your cheeks heat up at getting caught dissociating during a critical time.

“Yeah,” you breathe out while brushing the stray hair away from your face, “sorry ‘bout that.”

Quentin gives you a nervous smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

He was one of the initial survivors that you met when you were dragged into the Entity’s cruel game. Determined yet exhausted, he showed you how to complete the basic tasks that you needed to survive. He always demonstrated innate patience even when your fingers connected the wrong wires together and caused a generator to blow up in his face. You were grateful that you’d be paired up with him for this Trial.

Sunken shadows hang underneath his eyes, and you’re reminded that some of the other Survivors in this realm bear more misfortune than you do. You’ve heard that some had previous lives of being a musician, botanist, or even a teacher before being pawns in the Entity’s Realm. Befriending them is a double-edged sword in many cases. Fear is a similarity you all share. You bond over the fear, alarm, and the anxiety of whether this will be your final day.

There are additional benefits to gaining friends. Sometimes you’ll get lucky and one of them will unhook you. You’ll get extra items from chests during the Trials. Although hearing their blood-curdling screams in a Trial sent you into a spiral of guilt, you’ve recognized that a small sliver of companionship is necessary. You’ll lose your humanity if you don’t chase after it.

You’re shaken out of your stupor again when Quentin cautiously walks to the generator a couple feet away from you. Dropping down to his knees, he lifts the side cover to get a better view of the multicolored wires.

His lips curl into a teasing grin before catching your gaze, “think you can do this with me? Without blowing it up, of course.”

He catches the playful roll of your eyes and lets out a genuine chuckle.

“I’ll do it just to spite you.” You retort but the red staining your ears gives away your embarrassment.

Making your way to the generator, you drop a single knee on the ground before wincing.

Snow?

The white ice causes a sharp coldness that you can feel beneath the tattered jeans that you’re wearing. You curse under your breath for disregarding the terrain you’re currently in. The current Realm is one that resembles a small, remote ski town. Sometimes the ice creates advantages and disadvantages. You’d have to be especially cautious in this terrain. Bearable yet uncomfortable, you knew the snow would cause your knees to become numb before you could finish the generator.

“Use this for your knees.”

There’s some shuffling before you’re handed a blue jacket. Quentin’s left in just his faded shirt. There are goosebumps starting to form on his uncovered arms. He glances at you before clearing his throat and continuing to connect wires together. A pinkish hue covers his cheeks.

A wave of gratitude washes over you at his gesture but you try to hand his jacket back, “I really shouldn’t, Quen. You’ll freeze in this place.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re literally shivering though.”

“I’m not, trust me. The Entity was actually being nice to give me suitable clothes for this place,” he shakes his head with a chuckle, “plus I have this.”

Then, in an attempt to quell your worrying, he points to the beanie on his head. The gray beanie is more similar to thin threads that are loosely knitted together to form a makeshift hat.

Raising a dark brow, he wordlessly shuts down any arguments that you have, and you’re encouraged to keep his jacket.

“Thank you,” you mutter before carefully folding the garment to place it underneath your knees, “I’ll give it back to you at the campfire.”

The iciness doesn’t quite cut through your pants anymore and you’re heaving out a sigh in relief. Quentin notices your soft exhale and knowingly smiles while sparks of electricity fizz within the generator.

Quentin never tried opening up about his past when everyone was gathered around the campfire after Trials. He’d wave a dismissive hand and continue listening to the others. Sometimes, if you dare to stare longer, you can recognize his hunched figure begin to drift off. Then, he’ll blink himself awake with such fierce intensity that it startles you.

You wish that he’d share more with you.

“Am I interruptin’ anything?”

A burly voice asks before hauling themselves through an open window. William, or Bill as you prefer, is one of the veterans that have dealt with the Entity’s savagery. Although, your encounters with Bill have left you wondering whether he was scared of the Entity or if the Entity was terrified of him.

The older soldier grins, balancing the cigarette in his mouth, when he catches the bashful looks you and Quentin give him.

He lets out a hearty chuckle before saying, “I’m just messin’ with ya’ll, no need to get your panties in a twist.”

Then, he plops beside you to tug at the generator’s wires as well. Completing a generator is a skill that a select few Survivors are adept at. You can recall a single one, Dwight, that can finish a generator with someone else’s help in no time. You’ve watched how he twists and pulls at wires with startling accuracy. However, with three people on a generator you’re certain that this will not take as long.

“Jus’ wanted to let you know who the killer is,” Bill mentions before carefully regarding Quentin, “got a glimpse of him but I’m pretty sure it’s Freddy. Can’t miss that bastard’s sweater.”

“Crap!”

The generator sputters before blowing up and Quentin hastily steps back to cover himself from the electric sparks. His fingers are reddened from being burnt by the explosion, but he brushes it off by carding a hand through his chestnut-colored hair. Quentin’s usual composed gaze is wild. Bill’s mouth is set in a thin line but otherwise he remains stoic. There’s an uncomfortable silence and your hands begin sweating at the awkwardness. Quentin’s the first to speak up.

“Sorry about that.”

His voice is small. It barely registers over the crack and pop of the generator you all are working on. Bill seems to hear him fine however, sending the other male a firm nod before speaking.

“Jus’ remember that I got your back.”

The encouragement is all Quentin needs to regain that resolute expression that he normally portrays, and he mumbles a small token of gratitude. He pulls beneath the generator once again, but you note the slight tremble in his fingertips when he pulls a rusted lever.

“Freddy?” You ask because this is the first you’ve heard about this killer.

“He’s jus’ a burnt-up son of a bitch that gets ya when you’re least expecting it.” Bill responds.

“Look, just,” Quentin pauses, “just don’t fall asleep.”

“Affirmative.”

Bill quickly answers Quentin with a salute. You’re aware that he’s well-versed with dealing with each killer given his experience. However, you’re still wondering about the prevalent connection between Quentin and Freddy. From the fierce gleam in Quentin’s eyes, you knew this unknown killer held some sort of significance to him.

A spine-chilling scream erupts from the other side of the Realm that causes you to flinch. That must be your fourth member of the team. The randomization of every member that the Entity chooses is puzzling. However, from the higher pitch of the scream, you guess that your final ally is female.

Bill puffs out a dark cloud of cigarette smoke, unfazed by the cry for help. Quentin’s weary eyes regard yours with unmasked sympathy before standing up. He huffs out a warm breath, creating a small cloud of fog in the frigid weather.

“I’ll go check it out,” he mentions.

He pats down the bottom half of his pants while waiting for an agreement. The snow leaves a damp stain on his slim-cut jeans, and you know that the fabric must be uncomfortable whenever he moves.

“Roger that. (Y/n) and I will finish this in the meantime,” Bill responds, “just watch yourself now.”

You begin to stand from your seated position, “I could come with you. This generator is almost finished.”

Your lips slant downward as Quentin casts a knowing glance before waving a dismissive hand. You both know that finishing the generators, which was a time-consuming task, was necessary to power the exit gates and leave. However, you would rather not let Quentin wander around alone. You knew he was well-versed in surviving within the Realm, but his earlier reaction left you worried.

Seemingly sensing your doubts, his lips upturned into an appreciative smile, “I’ll be fine, (Y/n).”

He takes a tentative step towards you and reaches out to brush his hand against your shoulder. His touch is cold but welcoming. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you slowly nod. If he believed that he was capable enough to go alone then you should trust that belief.

“Thanks, I’ll get goin’ then,” he mutters before loosely wrapping his hand around your arm, “and whatever you do, don’t fall asleep. Got it, (Y/n)?”

“Got it.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’ll see you back at the campfire then,” there’s a grin on his thin lips, “and don’t forget my jacket.”

Satisfied with your answer, he rounds the corner of the old building’s remains and slowly climbs through an open window. Quentin drops to the ground and you catch his soft grunt at the impact. He jogs in the direction the scream was heard and soon the generator’s noises are present only. Your fingers connect with the mechanical levers again, the action is habitual at this point.

There’s a comfortable silence before Bill speaks up.

“You and that dreamwalker boy got somethin’ going on?” Bill questions while throwing a nonchalant glance at Quentin’s retreating figure.

He pauses at connecting the colored wires to take a drag of his cigarette, which seemingly never runs out during every Trial. You wonder if the Entity spares some of the other Survivors small favors like extra clothes because you’ve seen some in different attire. For instance, Bill’s clad in his usual military jacket but it’s speckled in blood despite not running into the killer yet.

“Me and Quentin?” You sputter and shoot Bill an incredulous look, “he’s just like that with everyone. He’s nice.”

The older man raises a brow to call you on your bluff, “hell if I know but that kid seems like he’s real fond of ‘ya.”

“Oh,” you shake your head and force out a chuckle, “we’ve known each other for a while. It’s hard on everyone here so I guess we just get along well.”

Bill lets out a sound that lets you know that he’s unconvinced. His icy-blue eyes regard Quentin’s jacket that’s folded up underneath your knees, but he shrugs and mumbles a comment about being too old for this.

Suddenly the levers that you’re pulling at get covered in a warm substance and you instinctively pull your hands away. The liquid splatters onto your face and you try to blink away the stray droplets. Swiping your cheek with your forearm, you glance down at the unexpected substance. A yelp escapes your lips when the scarlet liquid looks too similar to blood.

“Shit!” Bill exclaims and reaches out to yank you away from the generator, “start running!”

Hastily wiping his bloodied hands on his trousers, he ducks behind a crate. A figure materializes before you. Bill reaches out to firmly push you and you’re sprinting away after wrapping Quentin’s jacket around your waist. Before you leave, however, you catch a glimpse of the striped sweater that Bill mentioned earlier.

—

“You’re doing it wrong! Let me show you how it’s done.”

The dark-haired girl takes a couple gauze pads from the medkit you’re holding and presses it against her chest. Her fingers grip the surgical dressing firm enough to cause blood to bleed through. She lets out a small whimper at the pain as her brows furrow. With quick movements, she ties a knot to calm the bleeding and assesses her handiwork.

Everyone’s on edge.

Each person has gotten hooked at least once and 3 generators still had to be powered up. Time was not on your side. This was Nea’s second time getting hooked, arguably the strongest evader on the team, and she had to play cautious for the rest of the match. She was the final ally in your team. Bill offered to distract Freddy for as long as he could. You could hear his heavy combat boots thudding against the wooden flooring in the main building. You had no idea where Quentin was since the Realm was larger in scale.

Nea lowers her beanie over her eyes, seemingly embarrassed about getting caught so early on in the game.

“Hey,” you pause to gently pat her shoulder, “you did good. You bought us some time. You can’t run forever and if you can then you should get us outta here asap.”

She cracks a rare smile at your teasing and murmurs a small thanks. Turning to the side, she avoids your gaze to inhale deeply. Her forearms and elbows are covered in small scratches from hopping over splintered ledges. Even worse, the openings from where the hook pierced her are still fresh. The dressings are stained red and desperately need a change. Yet, her expression remains neutral at the injuries.

You offer a hand to help her stand up. Brushing off her low rider jeans, Nea takes your hand and gets back on her feet. She winces at the initial strain but regains her footing. Her converse has mud and blood splotches on it, yet they’re in better shape than she’s currently in.

“Let’s find a generator.” She states.

Nea allows you to help her locate one and you turn your chin up to the sky to look for the indicative flashing lights. It’s difficult to distinguish because of the gusts of snow that block your limited vision. The work is tiring, with your arm curled around her, but she hobbles to the nearest generator you can spot. It’s settled in the center of the main building so finishing it would be wise.

A couple seconds into connecting wires there’s a familiar ding that resonates throughout the Realm.

That must mean that Quentin is alright.

“Hell yeah,” Nea pumps a fist into the air to celebrate the completed generator, “we’ll get this finished in no time.”

Your shoulders relax as relief floods within you. A weight is lifted off your shoulders. That means there are two generators left to finish— then you’re one step closer to escaping. You and Nea are already working on one so technically a single generator is left.

Then everyone would be free.

The generator you’re working on is swiftly completed due to the newfound vigor. Working in synchronization with Nea to pull at levers and wires was effortless. But a new task demands your attention when a pained bellow rings throughout the air.

“That must be Bill,” you mention while Nea grimly nods, “I’ll unhook him while you find another generator.”

It was sensible for you to rescue him because Nea sacrificed her last hook already. The plan was for everyone to make it out alive. From the distance of Bill’s scream, he was not hooked very far from where you stood. You were only on your first hook, the dull sting was nothing compared to the discomfort that Nea must be experiencing.

“Make sure you crouch to avoid getting caught,” Nea advises and gestures to Quentin’s jacket around your waist, “and you should wear that to blend in.”

His dark navy jacket is monotonous compared to your brighter attire that contrasts poorly in the wintry Realm. Slipping your right arm through the right arm hole, you shrug on Quentin’s jacket to follow her advice. She knew strategies to avoid attention and surveillance. The extra layer of fabric does little to quell the frigidness, but it does bring you a sense of security.

“That’s Quentin’s, right? Smart of him to give you that, to be honest,” she muses.

She bids you a quick parting before jogging up the wooden stairs. Reaching the clearing, she scans the ground for the flashing lights on an incomplete generator until she finds one. Her index finger points to it and casts you a glance. Nea takes a couple preliminary steps and firmly presses her hand against the bandaged wound on her chest. She stands with her feet shoulder-width apart.

“You’re going to jump?” You call out to her, eyes widening at the familiar stance that Nea takes.

Bending at her knees, she snickers, “I’ve jumped from higher places. I’ll see you at the exit gate!”

Then, the elastic energy she conjures up grants her enough momentum to jump despite her injuries. It will always amaze you on how daring she is in each Trial. You listen for a resounding thump to indicate that she landed but when you’re met with silence then you’re relieved that she’s fine. Nea’s agility was unrivaled.

Running to where Bill’s last scream was heard, you try to recognize anything that was out of the ordinary. There weren’t any distinctive chests that held antidotes, birds cawing, or fountains placed to wash off infections. Trudging through the snow, you make your way to the small wooden building that’s found in more Realms. The building is infamous for killers to use because it’s convenient and lures survivors to go down into the basement. However, it’s a great place to distract the killer for quite some time. The shack had a doubtful advantage.

Pushing yourself up against the shack, you strain to hear Bill’s muffled grunts of pain.

He must be in the basement.

You slowly vault the window and attempt to land quietly. Bracing yourself with both hands outstretched, you begin to tiptoe down the stairs. There’s no indication of the killer: your heartbeat isn’t thumping against your chest or a red light isn’t illuminating the room. However, exhaustion hits you like a freight train going a thousand miles per hour. Your alertness is hindered and you feel like you’re going to faint. Sweat begins to linger above your brow bone. Bill pays you no attention when you finally get to him. A medkit that he had was laying haphazardly on the ground beside him. The hat he usually wears with pride was also on the ground. His hands pry the Entity’s limbs away from him and you can guess that all his movement caused his beret to fall.

His struggling state causes you to call out to him, “Bill! I’m here!”

Eyes finally regarding you, a wave of relief passes through him. You’re unsure of whether he was relieved that you were rescuing him or he was glad that you were still alive.

“Watch yourself, kid! Behind ya!” Bill hollers.

In your exhausted state you can barely recognize the telltale sign of your heartbeat thumping erratically. The killer must be nearby. Fatigue causes your arms to weaken as you unhook Bill and place him on the ground.

“You have time! Get going!” You advise Bill.

Before he can leave, however, he hands you the medkit that was on the floor, “hold up, I got somethin’ for ya.”

The medkit is partially used, some of the bandages and syringes are missing but it’s a miracle he was able to swipe one. You shoot him a grateful smile but he’s already bending down to grab his beret. The older soldier barely fusses over the gaping hole in his chest. You believe that past battles have taught him a thing or two about survival.

“Thanks for that. I owe you one,” Bill calls over his shoulder as he bounds up the basement stairs, “fall in behind me.”

You follow behind him when a figure suddenly materializes and you narrowly sidestep to avoid a clawed glove.

“Bull frickin horse shit!” Bill gruffs as the killer takes another swipe at you.

You watch as the metal fingertips graze the loose strands of your shirt and make small holes. There goes your only good piece of clothing. Spinning on your heel, you face away from the killer and use your momentum to confuse him. A curse slips from your lips at the last minute dodge you made, inwardly glad that Quentin’s jacket wasn’t damaged.

“Run!” You yell and your command has Bill sprinting away, “I’ll buy us some time!”

Your heart is thundering now. The increased heart rate causes an explosion of energy to erupt within you. Fingers clutching the edge of the shack window, you vault through it and tuck yourself as close to the building as humanly possible while running along it. Freddy follows close behind, choosing to vault over the window too, and gains distance.

His voice suddenly booms from within your head. Hands clapping over your ears, you try to block out the noise to focus on running away from him. Panic seizes you. A deep chuckle, that clearly belongs to him, resonates in your mind as you run within the shack. Your shoes slam against the wooden tiling. His presence creeps up on you. You can almost smell the blood on his hands. You’re losing distance.

You need to throw the shack pallet.

From your peripheral vision, you can see his clawed hand raise. An instinct to vault the window again causes you to change your running direction. However, before he can walk out the doorway, you sprint around to drop the heavy pallet. Splinters dig underneath your fingertips but you ignore it in favor of wanting to hear Freddy’s pained groan at getting crushed by it. You know it won’t do much but it’ll stun him at least.

“Eat this!”

An animalistic cry leaves your lips as you pull it to cover the doorway where he’s standing. But the pallet does not stun Freddy. It is destroyed immediately and Freddy stands in front of you. His burnt up face breaks out into pure joy as he watches your face morph into disbelief. He can taste the fear.

“This is my world,” Freddy croaks out and his mottled lips twitch into a sadistic grin, “and you’ll never leave.”

Defiance is all you wish to show. As a last ditch effort, you pretend to take a step towards him which causes him to instinctively swing. With the limited time you have, you duck underneath his arm and sprint to the window. His metal claw catches the back of your leg as you haul yourself through the opening. A sharp sting causes you to awake from your exhausted state. You let out a wail when Freddy attempts to pull you back, the weapon digging deeper into your skin, but you pry away from his grip.

You needed to get away.

Profusely bleeding from your leg, your sprint is reduced to a limped jog. A ding goes off, signaling that the final generator was complete. Hopefully the others would be able to get the exit gates open soon. You throw a glance over your shoulder– and sure enough– Freddy is following. His fedora is tipped over his eyes but his pace is steady. The gash on your leg hurts like hell. Your best bet was to distract him with pallets, real ones, to play it safe since you were already injured. Heading to the main building, you hoped that there would be a couple that your other teammates have not thrown down yet.

“Hey!”

You yelp as a calloused hand pulls you behind a set of crates. The tug is surprisingly gentle but you were jogging with so much intensity that you landed harshly on someone. A hand clasps over your mouth, ushering you to stay quiet, and another settles at your hip.

“It’s just me.”

A warm breath ghosts over your neck and you immediately stop squirming when you realize who it was. Your heartbeat thumps steadily for a different reason now. Just to confirm any doubts, your eyes dart to the side and the familiar tuft of brown hair is all you need to see.

Quentin realizes your wide eyes and offers you a relieved smile. This time, however, the gleam reaches his eyes.

The hiding spot is cramped, filled with spiderwebs, and covered in dust. Yet Quentin does not seem to mind the slot in the corner of the room. A pile of wooden crates conceals the both of you and shadows casted by the ski lodge building create more of an advantage.

Freddy’s footsteps are heard a couple feet away from you. You try your best to remain silent, give into a strategy of stealth, and muffle your pained whimpers. There’s a small puddle of blood from where you entered the building at. Panic rises at the trail of evidence you’ve left behind and Quentin seems to notice how you’ve frozen up. He catches sight of the blood, raking his eyes to where the deep gash resides behind your leg.

Quentin’s furrowed brows of concentration drop. The hand that was on your hip leaves and gingerly reaches out to your leg that’s curled on top of his. Instead of brushing against it, however, his hand returns to your hip and draws soothing circles. You suspect that the action is meant to calm you down but it only makes you dizzy.

Freddy walks over to a nearby locker, forcing it open, and peering inside in hopes of finding you. It was empty. A scoff leaves the back of his throat and he slams it shut. His claws drag against the metal lock which create a displeasing screech. Freddy’s beady eyes skipped up to the railing but could not spot you. What felt like an eternity later, Freddy leaves.

“What the hell happened?”

Quentin breaks the silence with a harsh whisper and he gestures to the grisly injury on your leg. He pays no mind to how he’s also covered in bandages or how you’re sitting right on his wounded thigh. His feathery hair tickles your cheek when he leans closer to inspect the injury.

You finally let out a sharp exhale followed by a whimper, “got caught vaulting the window when I was unhooking Bill.”

“He did that to you?”

You both know that Quentin is referring to Freddy. Quentin’s voice is throaty. Slowly nodding at his inquiry, he curses under his breath. Splatters of dried blood are speckled across his face.

He shakes his head at your apparent sacrifice and lets his fingertips skim the outer edge of the gash to check for the depth.

“What happened to you?” You question him.

Shifting on his lap, you indicate the slash on his thigh even though he’s still inspecting your injury.

“I was being stupid and threw down a fake pallet,” he exhales, “being in the Dream World does that to you.”

Dream World?

That explained the phenomena behind the pallet that was in the shack. You slowly begin to maneuver yourself off of Quentin’s damaged leg in fear of making it worse. He wordlessly helps you, placing both hands on your waist, and gently settling you beside him.

“Here,” you offer him what’s left of your medkit, “you can use it to change your bandages before it gets infected.”

Shaking his head, he points at a nearby chest, “keep yours in case of an emergency. I guarantee that I can pull a brand new medkit out of that.”

You raise an inquisitive brow at him, doubt written all over your face. Chests in the Realm were difficult to find because they were scattered around in random places. Their presence was not absolutely certain. Guessing the contents within the chest was even more difficult to predict. Items within the chest ranged from keys, maps, flashlights, or medkits.

“Don’t believe me?”

His words are teasing as a grin dances on his lips. Hauling himself in a crouched position, he winces but otherwise obscures the pain he’s in with his amiable demeanor. He leans forward, reaching your eye level, and pauses. His dark eyes skitter across your face and then to his jacket wrapped around you. The dark fabric engulfs you and only contrasts the difference between the two of you. Quentin rests his palm against the floor to hold himself there.

“You gotta have some faith in me, (Y/n).”

His warm sigh caresses your lips and you instinctively part them. Your heart tripped like you’d just sprinted a mile or two. Droopy eyes, which you were used to seeing when he lacked sleep, were half-lidded for another reason.

Your reply comes out in a hushed whisper, “I do though.”

The wailing of the exit gate being close to opening startles the both of you.

“I’ll get the medkit. You can stay here,” he drags his gaze elsewhere and reluctantly forces himself away after hearing the signal, “nice jacket, by the way.”

He catches the way you roll your eyes. His own sparkle with a gentle fondness that makes your knees weak. Crouching to remain stealthy, he swiftly makes his way to the chest that’s perched on the top of the stairs. Upon reaching it, he gestures a thumbs-up in your direction before unlocking it. He jiggles the lock to ease it open with precise quickness. You watch as he searches it.

Truth be told, Quentin manages to pull out a medkit. He rummages around the chest a couple more seconds before hurriedly coming back to you. He pockets something small. Upon seeing your impressed stare, a grin curls on his lips. He doesn’t bother boasting about it but instead starts unraveling the medical fabric for your leg.

Quentin works to wrap the gauze around the fresh wound. You notice that there’s an incessant tremble in his fingertips. When he recognizes your zeroed-in gaze on his shaky fingers, he curses and shakes out his hand. He hopes you won’t ask him what’s wrong. There’s only so much he can explain about the endless caffeine, energy drinks, and stimulants he’s taken to stay awake. No one talks about the side effects that come without sleep. The excessive anxiety that clogs his throat up in new situations. The hallucinations of Freddy hunting him. The forgetfulness of whether he ate causes him to starve for days. His ears burn. Curiosity almost gets the better of you, but you decide against it. He slows to a stop when your whimpers of pain become more audible.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he repeatedly mumbles before forming a knot to hold it in place.

Little did Quentin know; you were suffering the consequences of complete exhaustion. Your exhales were coming out in drawn out breaths. The view within the ski lodge was progressively getting blurry. Your eyelids felt like a hundred- pound weights were attached to them. Quentin’s touch on your leg is warm. Leaning against the wall was surprisingly comfortable. It almost felt as good as the bed you had in your life– pre-Entity shenanigans. Slowly, your head lolls to the side as you invite yourself to rest.

Didn’t you deserve it?

“Hey, I’m right here.”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“We’re gonna be alright, (Y/n)! I’m going to get you out!”

You can hear Quentin’s voice in the distance. It sounds so muffled— so far. To hear the rest of his comments, you have to strain yourself but you’re too weary to exert that much effort. You’re not able to recognize the alarm in his tone.

“You gotta get up, he’ll come and get us.”

Desperation claws at him when he notices the distinct signs that you were falling asleep. This wasn’t good. His fingers sweep across your forehead to softly push away a few strands of your hair. He can feel his throat close up. His voice comes out shrill. Too many times he’s experienced this. Too many times he’s lost people he’s cared for because of Freddy. Tears threatened to form because now— he was also falling victim to sleep.

Drawing his hands together, he claps loudly in an attempt to rouse you from your initial stages of slumber. He snaps his fingers after. Any type of noise to wake you up was necessary.

“Wake up, (Y/n), wake up. (Y/n) please. Please don’t do this. (Y/n), come back, you promised.”

The way he’s chanting your name in broken syllables causes you to groggily awaken. Another wave of exhaustion hits you, trying to keep you asleep, but you desperately fight it. You know this is Freddy’s doing. It wasn’t fair to allow yourself to get caught up in Freddy’s game when Quentin was trying so hard to survive. Swiping a hand over your eyes, you peer up at him in confusion.

“Quentin?”

“(Y/n)? You’re awake,” he chokes up before shaking his head to rid himself from his own tiredness, “shit. I thought I lost you.”

“Freddy will have to do better than that to get rid of me.”

A single tear slides down Quentin’s cheek as he chuckles at your comment. His eyes are reddened. Before you can ask why he’s tearing up, he pulls you in for a hug.

“Think you can stand?” He asks as he’s pulling away, “we gotta get to the exit gate before we run out of time.”

Nodding, you use the wall as leverage to stand. You could feel the start of a headache beginning to form. There was just a final obstacle to hop over before you were free. Quentin opens his medkit again to obtain a syringe. A transparent liquid resides in it, and he uncaps it before injecting himself. His movements are precise, leaving you to wonder just how often he does it. He doesn’t utter a sound.

“Adrenaline,” he answers your wide gaze, “it’s going to keep me awake.”

The two of you exit the building and head to an exit gate with Quentin’s expertise on locating it. The gash on your leg considerably slows you down but he remains patient in jogging beside you. Pretty soon, Quentin catches a glimpse of Bill and Nea at the exit gate.

They were stalling for you two.

“Son of a bitch is holding us hostage!” Nea exclaims and ducks to dodge Freddy’s slash.

Her voice rings throughout the Realm. Bill and Nea appeared to be severely injured. Bill’s hand is placed above his heart and the gaps between his fingers show dripping blood. Nea’s typical agility is slower. She narrowly avoids Freddy’s second attack.

“Just leave! We’ll be fine!” Quentin assures them.

Turning his head, he can scarcely spot the second exit gate. The gleaming lights, which displayed whether the exit gate was close to opening, was absent, however. He’s contemplating. The other exit gate was quite a journey away. His jeans were starting to irritate the open wound on his thigh. You were, similarly, limping beside him. He doubted that you two could make it in time because of your injured state.

“We will NOT leave a man behind!” Bill retorts and ushers Nea to stray further away from the exit gate, “let’s get back out there!”

“We can’t, we’re going to get ourselves killed.”

Nea yanks her arm away from Bill and edges toward the exit. Freddy pays no attention to the heated debate. His gloved hand swings at Bill and the soldier fends off the attack with his forearm. Fiddling with his empty gun holster, Bill eyes the both of you.

You lift the medkit, which was gifted to you by Bill, in the air for him to see, “we’ll be fine! He’ll force you guys out anyways.”

The veteran’s hardened expression softens at the action, and he groans due to indecisiveness, “ah hell, I’m getting too old for this shit.”

With a nod in Nea’s direction, he wordlessly agrees with her decision. The two of them cast a final glance in your direction. Bill bids you a grateful salute. Tugging off his beret, he presses it against his heart.

“We better see ya back at the campfire, kid,” Bill hollers before wearing it again and leaving.

Nea waves. She calls out to let the both of you know to find her after the Trial. Afterwards, they’re both running and escaping.

Freddy stands to block the exit.

You exhale. Their retreating figures are all you see before Quentin’s hand intertwined with yours.

“I’ve got a plan,” he murmurs, “we gotta move fast though.”

Forcing your feet to move, you gasp when you realize the ground underneath you are starting to collapse. Red divots begin to form, and you cautiously step over it. The effect is so large that the pools of blood you leave behind camouflages with it. Quentin continues leading the both of you to the other side of the map. Freddy, interested in sacrificing someone to the Entity, quickly trails behind.

“Oh, shit.” Quentin fights off the drowsiness by fiercely rubbing his eyes or shaking his head.

“It’s,” you see the other exit gate that Quentin tugs you toward, “it’s not open. It won’t open in time.”

The male remains silent and pulls the exit gate lever down to start opening it. A single red-light gleams after a couple seconds. Sweat drips down your right temple. The anxiousness makes you feel queasy. Yet, it seemed like Quentin powered the exit gates faster than usual under the escalating pressure.

He throws a glance over his shoulder and sees Freddy’s stalking figure, “let’s go.”

Rounding the corner, he tucks the both of you away and waits until Freddy checks the exit gate. Quentin’s breath hitches when Freddy inches closer.

The killer casts a glance at the unfinished exit gate. The corners of his burnt lips pull into a grim frown before morphing into a cruel smile when he hears a dim noise. That sound is too divine. He follows the low harmonic tune that catches his attention. A black smoke rises up from the opening, tempting and inviting. Stepping through a window, Freddy approaches the opened prop and uses his foot to stomp on it.

Freddy closed the hatch.

The last alternative to escape and suddenly that option was taken away. Turning on his heel, Freddy trudges back in the direction of the previous exit gate to hunt for the both of you.

“I’ve been tormented by this guy for too long,” Quentin murmurs and falls to the floor in a heap of fatigue.

“He found and closed the hatch. How’re we going to get out?”

The question is whispered into unhearing ears. You’re met with silence. Quentin taps his hands against his lap. At this rate, you speculated that he was in no shape to open the exit gate at the increased pace that he previously did. The only option that you could think about was sacrificing your own life for Quentin and hopefully give him enough time to escape. Shifting to face him, your mouth opens to offer the suggestion but quickly closes when Quentin raises a hand up to halt you.

“Don’t,” he warns with a steady hand, “I already know what you’re gonna say and it’s not happening.”

“We don’t have another choice, Quen,” you reason and gesture towards the unfinished exit gate, “we’ll both die here if nothing changes.”

“You really don’t think there’s another way?”

“There isn’t. We saw him close the hatch right in front of us.” You quip.

Quentin recognizes your increase in tone. He chooses not to say anything. There’s not much he can mention to bring comfort for you. Freddy reigned victorious in patrolling the exit gates and closing hatch. He blocked your only escapes. Bunching your hands into fists, you let them fall by your sides. The clock was ticking. A bell sings your death toll. At least you were with someone that cared for you in this twisted Realm. The passage of time, manipulated by the Entity, was your worst enemy.

Was this the end?

Would you have a piece of your soul taken away?

“You gotta have some faith in me, (Y/n).”

Quentin’s breathy voice causes you to snap your gaze up to regard him. He’s close. The cracked red ground casts an opaque sheen to illuminate his soft features. You wish that you could have known Quentin in another lifetime– one where you’re not mandated to fight for your survival.

You’re sure you would’ve enjoyed it.

Reaching into his slim-cut jeans, he digs out a key. It’s dull and the shoulder of it is bent at an oblique angle. Tilting his head, he spots the way your mouth hangs open and chuckles. The noise is like sugared honey.

Then he chooses to close the distance between the two of you and raise a brow.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner,” you’re still stuck staring at the key in his hand and shaking your head in disbelief, “I was losing my mind and you had a plan all along.”

“I told you I had one, didn’t I?” He laughs.

Dropping to his knees, he forces the key into the keyhole and turns it until it clicks into place. The key dissipates into thin air after being consumed. Quentin draws the rusted metal cover up to allow you enough space to slip through.

You and Quentin’s heartbeat start to audibly beat again and the drumming signals that Freddy is nearing. A flash of panic crosses Quentin’s face. His hand finds the small of your back.

“You go first,” Quentin ushers you closer to the hatch.

He threads his arms underneath your knees and gently lowers you into the hatch. Impulsively, you curl your fingers around the side of Quentin’s shirt. He glances down at it. Slowly, he replaces your hold on his shirt by threading his own fingers with yours. His thumb lightly caresses the back of your hand. The touch is affectionate, and your bright eyes search his.

“I’ll tell you about my life when we get out of this,” Quentin hums and brings your knuckles up to his lips, “pre-Entity. Before I even knew what the hell this was. When times were normal and mundane. Before I even knew how to power open an exit gate with record-breaking speed.”

Mirth sweeps over his features when he draws a laugh out of you. He gradually lowers you further into the hatch. Darkness engulfs your lower half.

“You will?”

“I will, promise,” he responds and bows his head until his forehead touches yours, “if you promise to tell me about yours too.”

“Deal.”

The word is spoken like a desperate prayer. Heartbeat quickening, you know it’s time to leave. A bittersweet smile curls upon your lips. It might be a while before you’re in a Trial with Quentin again. You begin to loosen your fingers out of his hold.

“I’ll see you back at the campfire, yeah?” He tries to grasp onto your lingering touch.

You instantly nod, “I have to give you back your jacket, remember?”

It doesn’t even bother you if you seem desperate now. Quentin seems to notice too because he grins in amusement. Kneeling over the hatch, he presses a fleeting kiss on the top of your head. You catch a glimpse of him when he pulls away. His tired eyes seemingly gleam in bliss. His actions embody just how Quentin was as a person: tender yet deliberate.

You allow yourself to wiggle out of his grasp and he watches as you fall into the darkness. His jacket that’s wrapped around you is soon immersed in the obscurity of the hatch. Then, he shuffles himself into the opening too. Before he drops, however, he spots Freddy’s sadistic eyes watching the scene unfold. The resolute dreamwalker sticks his middle finger up before throwing himself down the hatch and successfully escaping another Trial in the Entity’s Grounds.

#dead by deadlight #dbd #quentin smith #dead by daylight x reader #fluff #quentin smith x reader #freddy krueger #dbd survivor #video games #nightmare on elm street #nea karlsson #william overbeck

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bunobunostwab · 3 years ago

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Endgame Fun | Danny (Jed Olsen/Ghostface) Johnson x Male Reader |

MINORS DNI.

TW: death, blood/gore, questionable morals, dubious consent, graphic depictions under cut

You don’t know how long this trial has been going on for. Bleeding and exhausted, you felt like you were a moment away from death. One of your teammates, Leon, was already dead. Another was on the hook, and you knew she didn’t have long to live.

Your last teammate….Nea. Poor Nea. Ever since your other teammate had been hooked, the killer had locked his sights on the agile girl. You tried to get the killer’s attention away from her, give her a breather, but it only resulted in you getting a nasty slash and the shrouded man redirecting himself back to his obsession.

You had gone against Ghostface before, you knew how he liked to play. Tease the survivors a little bit, make them glance over their shoulders in fear of getting exposed. Entice them with the idea of surviving, get their hopes up. Then when all the generators are almost done, hunt the trapped souls down and slaughter them like pigs. One by one.

You know why he does it. You know he enjoys the thrill, the adrenaline of finally catching a survivor and ending their life with his own hands. The way he shivered and panted after finally ending a chase in his favor.

You had been on the receiving end of it. Arms splayed out as you were forced onto your back. Ghostface, who you learned was named Danny, looming over you as your hips were forced up and into his. His form bent over you, taunting white mask moving back and forth as his chest heaved to take in air.

Your mind was hazy and all you could think about was his hard arousal pressing against you. Gloved hands gripping your waist as he ground himself closer against your own growing erection, letting a small whimper leave your lips as your head tilted back.

Usually a situation like that ended with him bringing his knife down quickly, slitting your throat and leaving you to bleed out. But he decided to change something one day. Instead of taking out his knife, he sat back up and tilted his head at you. A muffled whistle snapped you out of your foggy daze and you stared up at him with confused, half-lidded eyes.

With a chuckle he patted your cheek and got up. “Look at you. Shaking and I haven’t even done anything yet.” you could hear the sneer in his voice as he walked away, presumably to go hunt down another survivor.

Thinking about it, this is probably when you let your morality slip from its confines.

Hesitantly you pulled away from the generator that was starting to roar to life and started heading in the direction you knew Feng Min was hooked. Although there were two generators that needed to be finished, if you and your teammates played it smart, there was a small chance of escaping.

You rushed to get closer to the hook as you heard Feng’s sobs of pain grow louder. With near comedic timing, you heard a piercing shriek resonate through the damp terrain as Feng was unhooked. Immediately you knew that he had caught up to Nea; there was no saving her now.

You turned to heal your teammate as the booming sound of the Entity taking Nea’s body away carried across the forest you were in. Paranoia was setting into your mind and you knew that there wasn’t much time left until Ghostface found you two.

Just as you were about to finish healing Feng, her body went stiff before bolting away from you. You turned your head to look in the opposite direction and your breath hitched.

Across the broken ruins you were near, Danny’s shrouded figure stood out in the open. You could just barely make out the slight head tilt of his mask and the flash of silver as he tossed his knife up and down.

…

You peeked around the corner and scoffed to yourself. Yeah like hell you ever had a chance of getting out of this.

Feng had gotten slashed again and was bleeding out on the floor meters away from you. Ghostface was hovering over her while you hid behind the wall at killer shack, trying to wait for an opportunity to get Feng back up.

He bent down to pick her up, but you did a double take when your mind finally processed what was happening. He wasn’t picking up Feng to hook her. He was about to mori her.

A million thoughts ran through your head as your legs finally gave out under you.

You couldn't think straight. It was getting harder and harder to see; Your vision going dark and everything becoming disorienting. The puddle of blood starting to form beneath you was probably to blame.

Well...everything was doomed, so might as well have some fun before you die, right? It’s not like Feng would really remember this when she respawned at the campfire.

You truly had been in the entity’s world for too long.

With a grin, you pushed yourself away from the wall you were hiding behind and stumbled over to the pair on the ground. Just as ghostface pulled out his camera and hovered his finger over the shutter button, you dropped to your knees beside him.

You grabbed onto his shoulder in fear that you would topple over from both the impact of the ground and your blood loss. The extra stability didn’t prove to help that much as you decided to lean in even more and place a kiss onto the side of Danny’s mask where his cheek would be. You quickly threw up a peace sign and squeezed your eyes shut when the blinding light of the camera emitted after his finger finally hit the shutter button.

The Cheshire grin on your face grew even wider as you hurled the weight of your body away from the leather-clad man and landed your ass on the floor.

Danny released the grip he had on the back of Feng’s head and whipped his entire body to face yours. His entire body was rigid, and you could tell just how bewildered he was by the way his hands froze over the butt of his knife.

Time seemed to pause, neither of you wanting to make a move to break the tension.

You licked your lips and scrambled to push yourself to your feet as Danny mercilessly yanked his knife out of your dead teammate's back. A choked laugh escaped you as you desperately pumped your legs to run, hearing the swish of worn out leather moving against itself as he gave chase.

It was futile though, and you knew it.

You gasped as the air was forced from your lungs as Danny tackled you to the ground. A shudder rippled throughout your entire body as one of his hands grabbed the back of your neck while the other man-handled you into the position he wanted.

Face down in the dirt, ass in the air, you could feel his hard-on pressing against you again. You sniffled as the hand on your waist traveled up and down your side and a chuckle could be heard from behind.

“Who knew a survivor could be this bold?” he drawled.

The hand exploring your body disappeared, and you heard the sound of a zipper being undone.

“Well since your teammates are dead, I think me and you could have some fun.”

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aughhh this took me so long to finish, but I’m pretty damn happy with how it turned out. I was planning on publishing something with Harry Warden for Valentine’s day but I didn’t end up finishing it,,

- Buno

#dark content #dead by daylight x male reader #ghostface x male reader #ghostface x you #danny johnson x male reader #jed olsen x male reader #male x male #dead by daylight

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svenotes · 4 years ago

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stay with me | jjk

❝ maybe staying another night at your boyfriend’s isn’t such a bad idea ❞

[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader

[ GENRE ] : established relationship au + smut and a smudge of fluff

[ WORD COUNT ] : 6k

[ WARNINGS ] : oral sex, some real good tongue technology on jungkook’s part, fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, creampie, LOTS AND LOTS of dirty talk, jk calls oc ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’ way too many times, oc worried that her bf is going to get tired of her, some mentions of anxiety, jk is the sweetest bf and even sweeter at sex, there is barely any plot and just a lot of sex im so sorry

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i'm on my period and i got horny and then this happened

masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post

“No.”

Jungkook shuffles behind you, the bed moaning. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

You shake your head, failing to suppress your smile as you slip on your thong. However, it does little to hide you from him. Glancing at the mirror, you see him shamelessly stare at your ass, licking his lips before he meets your gaze through the glass with a boyish grin.

You turn around to face him. “You’re going to ask me to stay.”

Jungkook hums, eyes dancing across your bare skin, darkening. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he admires you, confidence swelling in your chest and you take a moment to admire him. He sits at the edge of the bed, naked and yours, white, silk sheets pooled around his lower abdomen.

Your eyes trace over his rigid muscles, and your fingers itch to touch him. Even under the dim light, he is beautiful with his dishevelled hair and swollen lips. You finally meet his gaze and swear your knees almost give out. Heat pools in your stomach when you see the hunger in his gaze, breath hitching in your throat. Your thighs press together reflexively and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Wrong.” Jungkook pulls you at you until you're straddling him. He cranes his neck to press butterfly kisses along your jaw. “I was going to ask you to not leave.”

“Baby.” You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands. “That means the same thing.”

“Don't care,” he hums, pressing a firm kiss against your lips. “Don’t go.”

His plea tugs at the strings of your heart. It’s hard to say deny him. It’s especially hard to deny him with his dick hard, prodding against your thigh and his lips coercing you to stay cocooned under the sheets with him. However, the anxiety that builds in your chest is overwhelming and the thoughts that kept you up the night before still linger.

“Jungkook.”

“Unless you’re telling me you're staying, I don’t want to hear it.”

You giggle, leaning down for a sweet kiss. Minutes pass by before you pull away with a burn in your lungs and clouded mind. He chases after your lips, but you tilt your head for his lips to press against the corner of your lips, to his reluctance.

“Baby,” you start, “I need to go home and get new clothes. I’ve spent the entire weekend here and now I have nothing to wear.”

“I like you naked, anyway.” He grins as you slap his chest, failing to bite back your smile. “You can wear my clothes.”

“I have no underwear left.”

“I have a laundry machine.” He traces every curve of your spine, sending shivers down your back. “You’ll have clean clothes tomorrow.”

You brush the long strands of his hair from of his face. “I could grab some new clothes and come back tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be dark soon,” he reasons, unhooking your bra with two fingers and you cock a brow. “Leave in the morning — after breakfast. Dangerous people come out at night, y’know? I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

“You would’ve won me over with that one if you didn’t unhook my bra,” you remark, pinning him with a look.

“Really? Wait, lemme redo that—!” You let out a heartfelt laugh, throwing your head back and he grins. “Seriously, don't go. I don’t want you walking outside late at night.”

“The sun’s only about to set, I can get home before it gets too dark.”

Jungkook’s brows pinch together, lips curling downwards. “You’re trying so hard to leave. Why?”

Your heart misses a beat and you pray he doesn’t notice the hesitation in your eyes as anxiety swells in your chest. Your worries flood your mind as a reminder as why you must leave.

“You're going to get sick of me if I don't give you some space.”

“I could never get sick of you,” he retorts, holding you closer with a shake of his head. “And I don't need space from you. Wanna keep you in my arms forever.”

Your gaze softens on him and his cheeks are coloured pink. “Kook.”

“I don’t want you to leave — not tonight.” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. “Want you to stay with me.”

You indulge in the idea; one more night. You could stay one more night. You could. However, the fear in your chest does not allow for it. You’re scared — worried if he spends every waking moment with you he’ll soon get tired of you. Perhaps it’s a stupid thought considering you’ve been dating for over a year now, but the dread still lingers. No matter how much you reason with it, it haunts your thoughts — keeps you awake in the middle of the night even as he rests in your embrace.

He drags you from your reverie, pressing a kiss against the sweet spot under your ear and you let him have his way for now.

“Don’t go,” he says again in a whisper, pleading with his eyes. “Please. I want you to stay.”

Before you can answer he leans down to press his lips against yours. His lips meld with your own in a fervent kiss, his hand trailing down your body and tracing the curve of your ass, as he presses himself against your core. You roll your hips against him as the kiss becomes more sloppy and desperate with every press of him against you. Waves of pleasure shoot down to your core, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

His lips trail down the underside of your jaw, pressing a wet kiss against your pulse. A coil of desire begins to tighten at every nudge of his shaft against your nerves, nails digging into the skin on his back in response.

“Ngh — Jungkook, please,” you urge as presses his hips against yours, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.

“Please, what, baby,” he hums, smirking against your skin. “Use your words.”

“Touch me. Please, ah,” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillow. “Need you to touch me.”

He throws your unhooked bra to the side. Bringing a hand to wrap around your breast, he squeezes it adoring how soft and pliant you are under his touch. You arch your back as his tongue flicks against your perked nipple.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his warm breath fanning across the pebbled bud on your breast. “Thought you had to go, hm?”

“Jungkook—!”

“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied,” he says, hoarse, searching your eyes for an answer. “I won’t let you go until you’re begging me to stop. Do you want that?” He rolls grinds his cock against your core, groaning. “Won't stop ’til I feel your hot, tight pussy milk me for every last drop. Ah, wanna feel you fall apart on my cock, see you all pretty and full of my cum, hear you beg for more and more until you break.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, the hot, white coil tightening in your stomach. You wish so badly for him to be inside of you when you clench around nothing. His lips wrap around your perked nipple, licking and biting you, eliciting the sweetest of moans from your lips as his tongue swirls around your bud.

Your thread your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands at the nape of his neck how he likes it. He moans against you as you continue to experimentally roll your hips against him, desperate for some friction — for him.

“Do you want that, too, baby?” He asks, leaving a trail of kisses up the valley between your breasts. “Means you can’t go home though. You’ll miss your train if you let me do the things I want.”

“Are you sure you’re not going to get tired of seeing me every day?”

You try to laugh, but your voice comes out strained and full of worry. It doesn't sound like a joke as you hoped, voice shaking as you ask your question. Your heart thunders in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.

Jungkook stills, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed and eyes full of confusion.

“You think I’m getting tired of you?”

You look away from his piercing gaze and he doesn’t like it. Taking your face in his hands, he urges you to meet his eyes and you find yourself meeting his concerned gaze.

“Talk to me,” he says, softly.

You take a deep breath, eyes flickering to your hands resting against his chest. Mustering the courage to open up, you meet his gaze again as he patiently waits for your response, a thumb rubbing soothingly against the soft skin of your cheek.

“I—I’m scared that you're going to realize I’m not as great as you think I am,” you begin softly, voice shaking. “I’m worried if you spend too much time with me you'll get sick of me. I’m scared you’re going to get tired of me and leave me.” You pause, noticing the bewildered expression on his face. “I wanted to leave so I could give you space in case you wanted it. I didn’t — I don’t want to suffocate you.”

He’s silent for a long moment and you know it’s because he’s collecting his thoughts. However, a part of you still worries. You worry it's because he realizes he has grown tired of your presence. You worry he realizes that you have too much emotional baggage and doesn’t want to deal with it. You worry because you have a hard time accepting someone’s love.

“I haven’t done a good job at being your boyfriend,” he starts and your eyes widen, “if you’re thinking I’m going to get sick of you.”

“No,” you reply immediately, cupping his face. “It's not you. It’s my insecurities — my anxiety. You’re more than perfect. You say and do all the right things, Kook. I just… I’m scared one day you’re going to get tired of me — tired of constantly reassuring me, sick of having me around all the time and clinging to you.”

You’ve talked to Jungkook about it before. He knows about the thoughts that keep you up at night — the worries that gnaw at you until you’re in tears. He knows and he stays. He tries to help you in every way he possibly can. He holds you when you need it, whispers reassuring words, comforts you no matter when or where. He’s there for you in every possible way because he loves you.

But sometimes your anxiety gets the best of you — especially when it comes to him.

“Baby,” he starts and it’s hard to meet his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I will never get sick of you.”

“You don’t know that—!”

He cuts you off, “But I do. I know because I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will. Every moment you’re not with me all I want is you. All I can ever think about is you. You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it. All I ever want is you beside me, in my arms, in my house with me. I always want you right beside me — right where you belong.” A pause. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you, too.” Your response is almost immediate and he smiles, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips.

“Do you know how much I love your laugh?” You’re silent. “Do you know how much I love making you smile; how much I love waking up beside you and falling asleep with you in my arms. How much I adore your victory dances when you win games and your snoring—!”

“Hey!” You complain, but there’s a smile curling on your lips to match his.

“I love you so much — every single part of you — I couldn’t possibly ever get sick you. I love you so much I don't ever want to let you go.”

Hesitantly, you look at him and let the sincerity of his words sink in. His eyes are full of adoration for you and your heart is enveloped by a sudden warmth only he can elicit in you. Lifting your hand between your bodies and extend your pink finger to him.

“Promise?”

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his small finger around yours before sealing the promise with a sweet kiss. “Promise.”

“Okay,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I wasn’t being too clingy this weekend? I wasn’t bothering you or being annoish—!”

“I’m going to stop you before you say more things I don’t like.” He smothers your face in his hands, eyes narrowed. “Remember, I wanted you here this weekend, too. And I want you to spend another night because I love you and I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“Okay,” you murmur, shyly. “I’ll stay the night.”

“Good. I want my pretty girl beside me,” he chuckles under his breath, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. You notice his eyes grow softer, an emotion you cannot decipher hidden behind the awestruck in his eyes that leaves butterflies in its wake. “Move in with me.”

You blink. “What?”

“I—!" His eyes are wide as if he didn’t expect himself to say the word himself. His eyes flicker downwards before they meet yours again with purpose. “I want you to move in with me.” A deep breath. “My apartments too big for just one person and I miss you whenever you’re gone. You spend more time here than you do at your own place anyway. Move in with me.”

You search eyes and all you're met with is sincerity. “Are you sure?”

“Yea,” his smile is soft but it makes your heart swell. “Yea, I'm sure. I’m tired of waking up every morning and not having you beside me.”

“Moving in?” You ask, uncertainly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready. And you don’t have to give me an answer tonight or tomorrow. I want you to think about it and if you’re not ready, that’s okay because I’ll wait for you. You’re worth the wait.”

“Kook—!"

“I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, ___.” Your eyes widen at the declaration and his cheeks are coloured pink despite the bright smile on his lips. “I know we’re not there yet, but I want you every single day for the rest of my life. So while I wait for you to be my wife, I want to move in with you.”

Jungkook momentarily stills before he realizes the soft pressure against his lips is your own, smiling into the kiss as he closes his eyes. He kisses you tenderly and sweet, but there is desperation behind them. You’ve kissed Jungkook thousands of times but he still makes your head dizzy as he slips his tongue between the seams of your lips. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, your fingers tangled in his hair and his own pulling you closer towards him.

He pulls back first, a string of saliva connecting you before he places another firm kiss against your lips. “Was that a yes?”

“Yea,” you breathe, grinning. “Yea, it was.”

He flips you onto the bed with practiced ease, your back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you. You giggle as he places butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, face hidden in the crook of your neck. “My pretty, pretty girl.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes.”

“I want to cum.”

He laughs, pulling away. “Shameless, too.”

He leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s a hair's breadth from your cunt. His fingers brush against your closed slit, arousal leaking through the flimsy material as he presses against your core. Your breathing becomes erratic when he presses a kiss against your clothed lips.

“Baby — fuck.” Your eyes roll back as he drags his tongue to your clit, the friction from the fabric on your nerves driving you crazy. “St-stop, agh, teasing.”

“You’re not in the position to make rules, baby,” he says, rubbing against your clothed clit. “I’m going to take my time with you — have you begging for me to taste your cunt. And when you do, I’ll use my tongue to lick every little drop of sweetness from your pussy. Make you come on my mouth over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”

You whine, “Please.”

He teases you, moving your underwear aside just enough to lick a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. Groaning, he meets your eyes as your underwear slides back in place.

“You taste so good, baby,” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your thigh. “And you're so fucking wet. Bet I could slide right into you.” His fingers are back on you, brushing against your clit but not enough to do anything. “You want me, baby?”

Your arch your back in response to his next ministration. “Yes.”

His touch is gone just like that and you whine, brows furrowed in frustration. He snaps the waistband of your thong against your skin with a smirk.

“Beg.”

“Jungkook—!”

You’re about to complain, but he cuts you off. “Beg or I’ll fuck myself using that pretty mouth and leave you dry. Tell me, baby, how bad do you want me?”

“Please, baby, I need you.” Your hooded eyes meet his heated gaze. “Need your fingers, mouth, cock — you. I need you so bad. Wanna feel you so bad, please.”

“Could be better,” he muses before he presses a kiss against your clothed core. “But I’m impatient.” He taps your hips. “Up.”

Helping you out of your underwear, he brings his face towards your core, blowing against your opening. His nose brushes against your thigh as he places another kiss against the soft skin, hooking your legs over his shoulder.

“You’re soaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

You hum, contentedly when his tongue brushes against your slit. “All for you.”

“My pretty girl,” he rasps, nose brushing against clit. “So wet and needy for me.”

Before you can complain again you feel his hot, wet tongue press harshly against your lips before he drags it up to your clit. He swirls the rosy muscle on your clit, teasingly until your moaning and breathless. Without warning, his lips envelop around your throbbing bud, sucking in full force you scream his name as your hips buck. Warm hands hold your waist down as he hums, tongue licking against your entrance again. For a moment he dips inside you, moaning at the taste of your sweetness before going back to suck at your clit the way you love it and you see stars behind your lids.

He repeats the motion over and over, swirling his warm tongue around your swollen bud and sucking it in a way that has you forgetting your own name. Against your slick lips, he whispers praises, before he slips two fingers into your warm cavern and curling his fingers inside you.

“O-oh, fuck—!” you gasp, fingers tangled in his hair. “Don — mmngh — don’t stop, ngh.”

“Gotchu,” he grins when he finds your sweet spot. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“S-so good.” Your nails scrape against his scalp and he emits a low groan. “So fucking good, fuck.”

His fingers continue their onslaught at a new pace, brushing roughly against the spot that leaves you breathless. His lips are back on your clit like a hot suction and you scream out from the overwhelming pleasure.

“So fucking tight,” he muses, pressing a kiss against your bud. “Your pretty cunt's taking my fingers so well, baby. You sound so pretty while I fuck you with my fingers, but you sound prettier when you cum, you know that?”

Your head is spinning from euphoria, ecstasy and the lack of oxygen, but it doesn't matter — not when he's bringing you closer and closer to your release.

“Mngh — J-Jungkook!” He sets a new violent pace that leaves you overwhelmed as he hits your sweet spot. His name falling out your lips like a broken record while he licks at your juices, groaning against your cunt when you fist his hair and pull him closer to you. An electrifying coil in your lower abdomen tightens, building further when his ministrations bring you closer and closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers, bucking your hips further into his hand, whimpering as you say, “God, yes — ngh, fuck. I’m so close.”

“Cum for me.”

Euphoric pleasure slowly, yet surely floods through your body, his lips enveloped around your sensitive bud as he curls his fingers against your soft spot. With one last flick of his tongue, you fall off the euphoric cliff as he laps at your juices. He presses harsh, but sure circles against your clit with his thumb as you ride out your orgasm. Your hip spams, thighs trembling as he coaxes you through an indescribable, mind-blowing release that leaves your vision white.

His lips don’t leave your nether regions, wincing at the oversensitivity. You tug at his strands of hair but he shakes his head.

“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, licking the fruits of his efforts once his fingers slip out of your dripping cunt. “Wanna have you crying my name. Wanna show you how much I love you. Will you let me?”

You lift your head from the pillow, leaning on your elbows as you sit up. He holds your stare, smirking before he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit to your sensitive bud and you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens to keep you in place before he lowers his head between your thighs, the hot suction back on your clit.

“Agh, Kookie.” You throw your head back, chest heaving. “I’m too—” Gasp. “—sensitive.”

“You can take it.” A kiss against your nether lips. “Wanna show you how much I want you — how much I love the taste of you. I’m not letting you go until you’re begging me to stop. You up for that? Want me to remind you how good I can make you feel?” He dips his tongue back in you and you hiss. “Can you be my pretty, little slut, baby, hm? You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”

“Y-yea.”

You feel him smile against your thigh. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”

“You.”

“That’s right.” A rewarding stroke his tongue. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. Will you let me play with this pretty cunt, baby?”

He watches you with hunger in his eyes and the desire to have him use you as he pleases to seek his own pleasure overcomes you.

He brushes his tongue against your swollen nub, and you gasp, “Yes.”

“Pretty girl,” he hums and you’re immediately wrapped around his finger. “Do you want to be my perfect little slut?” You nod, meeting his heated gaze, a wolfish grin curling on his lips. “You're too good to me, you know that, baby?” He teases his tongue around your entrance, eliciting a whine from you. “My pretty girl.” Lips wrap around your clit and you scream, body falling limp against his sheets. “My perfect, little slut.”

And with that his tongue is on you, violently bringing you to another release. You are oxygen and he is a man deprived, burying himself deeper in your cunt. A growl emits from the back of his throat as you thread your fingers through his hair, your winces from oversensitivity shifting to moans of pleasure. He finds home between your thighs, reluctant to leave as he licks at every drop of sweetness you grant him. Jungkook brings you to release over and over until your tears stream down your face and you find it hard to take the pressure of his tongue against your overly-sensitive nerves.

With one last wave of pleasure washing over you, he pulls away. His cheeks are coated with a warm fuchsia, lips parted as he looks at your cunt with a predatory gaze. From his nose to his chin, he is covered in a sheen of your juices, eyes blown out as they meet your own.

He adores your fucked out expression, your chest heaving while you catch your breath. His tongue swipes at the remnants of your release on his swollen lips, the back of his hand wiping the excess off his chin before he leans down to catch you in a short kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes search yours for any sign that you want to stop, but he finds nothing.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“You told me you would make me pretty and full of your cum.” His gaze hardens on you, dark eyes trained on your own. “‘M not full of your cum yet. Can you fix that?”

“Such a greedy slut.” A smile grows on his lips as he leans down to your neck, nipping at the skin. “I made you come on my mouth so many times, but you still want more. Greedy, needy slut.”

“For you.” You wrap your legs around his waist as you grind yourself against his dick. “Only for you.”

He groans, hips rolling in rhythm with yours. “You like being my slut?”

“I like being yours.”

He stills for all of a second before he breaks out into a grin, laughing as he presses a kiss against your lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pulls his lips back on yours. As he leans towards you, his shaft presses against your folds. You’re barely able to focus on the kissing as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he grinds against you, coating his length with your juices.

A knot forms in your lower abdomen like a hot, tight coil wanting to snap. You can already feel yourself get needy at the feeling of his length against your folds, but before you can act upon it—!

“Tsk.” Jungkook clicks his tongue against his teeth as he catches you trying to slip his cock past your folds. “You want my cock?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze, eyes lazily meeting his. “Want you inside me.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, baby.” You furrow your eyes at that, mouth opening in protest. “Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want to be fucked by my cock.”

You frown. “That’s not happening—!”

There’s a teasing pressure against your pussy that makes you gasp, eyes rolling back as your mouth hangs open. A soft whimper escapes from you as he adjusts his cock to rub against you, mixing his pre-cum with your juices.

“What was that?” He asks, smirking and you glare at him through your lashes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I can give you everything you want if you just—” he leans down until his lips brush against your ear, his finger grazing over your sensitive clit and you hiss, pushing your hips against his hands for more, “—beg.”

Again, you ignore his request but more so because he aligns his cock to prod against your cunt and you cannot focus on anything but your need to have him buried in you. You can feel the sudden weight in the pit of your stomach as you lick your lips.

“So hungry for my cock,” he grunts. “You want something to fill you up so good you forget your name, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry at the lack of attention on your sex. “Please.”

“Please what?” He asks, lips curling because he knows he has you exactly where he wants. “Words.”

“Please fuck me,” you give in, frustrated as your walls clench around nothing. You’re hungry for more — body craving more of what he’s willing to offer; of the undeniable pleasure he would provide if you just gave in. “God, I want your cock — need it. Need you to fill me up, need you to fuck me — nngh!” You moan, body going rigid against his as his head rubs against your swollen bud, fingers tweaking at your perked nipples. “Want you so bad, baby. Wanna be your perfect, little slut so bad. Have me however you want, I don’t care — do whatever you want to me. I don’t fucking care.” You grind yourself against him, chest heaving as the desire for him to fill you up becomes desperate. “Just fuck me, baby, please.”

“That’s my girl.” He rewards you with a kiss. “I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll fill you up with my cock. Gonna bury my cock deep inside your slick cunt. Gonna stretch out your walls so good no other cock will be good enough for you — no other cock could ever fill you up like mine. No one will fuck you better than me.”

“That’s right, baby,” you urge. “Make me yours.”

Painfully, slow he slips his cock into your warm cunt, groaning. He’s big, in both length and grith, causing a slight burn accompanied by an abundance of pleasure. Moans fill the room as he fills you up to the brim, inch by inch until he no longer can. Your hot, slick walls clench around him and he groans, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Stop that,” he growls, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re so fucking tight, ah. If keep you do that I’m going to fucking blow my load.”

“Do your worst, baby,” you say, eyes hazy. “I want you to ruin me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, unsheathing himself from your cunt until the tip is nestled an inch within your entrance and then slams himself back into you. A lewd moan erupts from both of you as the stars decorate your vision. You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, eyes rolling back every time he sinks back into you. With each thrust and roll of your hips, he rubs himself against the spot that leaves ecstasy rushing through your veins.

“You’re so, agh, hot like this.” You can feel the pressure build in your stomach, the coil tightening with every brush of him against your sweet spot. “So hungry for my cock.”

“Feel so good in me,” you moan, watching as his dick slips in and out of your cunt. “Fill me up, ah, so good. Fuck, take what’s yours, baby.”

He visibly shudders at that before latching his lips on your perked nipple. His tongue laps around the perked bud on your breast, spare hand coming to knead the other before he swaps breasts.

You groan, dragging your nails down his back, sure to leave a mark. “Oh, fuck.”

Your eyes roll back as the head of his cock brushes roughly against the spot that has you seeing stars. He has your toes curling, his name coming out like a mantra as he ravishes your body, moaning into your neck. A knot of pleasure tightens, burning like a hot coil and he knows with the way you pulse around his dick that you’re so, very close.

You can taste the bits of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, but it’s still not enough. You need so much more and he hears it in your pleas.

“Puh—please,” you breathe as you feel him press his lips against your pulse. “Hard—oh, my God.” You barely get the words out of your mouth before he’s ploughing into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Ngh, like that, fuck. S-so good, baby. Feels so good.”

“Yeah,” he groans, biting your neck. “So good to me, fuck. Such a good fucking girl.” At that, you squeeze around him and he lets out another lewd moan. “You gonna cum?”

All you manage is a nod and a sharp breath of air. His hand slithers down your body to find your clit and he presses against it harshly, eliciting a hiss from you. It’s oversensitive from the multiple times he made you cum on his tongue, but he doesn’t care because he knows you love it. He’s quick to rub circles around the bud and smirks to himself at your vocal response.

“Don’t — ah — stop.” You feel the coil burn more, pleasure building in your body like rapid fire. So fucking close to your next release, even as the sensitive bud stings. “Gonna — ah — gonna cum.”

His lips are eager for yours, pressing against them in a searing, hot kiss as he tries to coax the orgasm from you with his sinful lips. You can taste yourself on him and hum. His release threatens to unravel before him, but he fights against it so he can feel you wrap around his cock when you cum. He lifts himself off you to admire the blissful look on your face as you slowly become undone before him.

“Pretty girl — ngh,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over your cheeks and you whimper. “All mine. Come — ah — for me, hm? Come all over my cock, baby.”

Sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clenching around him as he fucks you hard. Every thrust leaves his head nudging against your sweet spot, clouding your vision white. A fire builds within you again, leaving you to gasp for air between every moan.

“Kook, I — ah, I can’t come—” Moan. “I can’t come again.”

Softly rubbing against your clit, he presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good slut for me, tonight, baby. You can do it. Come around my cock for me.”

And with his words and one last thrust, the burning coil snaps, pleasure rushing through your body in euphoric waves. Your veins flood with ecstasy and he soon follows, his seed coating your walls. Overwhelming pleasure unravels within you both like a wildfire, spreading across your bodies as he continues his pace to ride out your highs. His lips find yours once again, pressing a lazy kiss against yours as you both ride out the last remnants of your orgasms.

Once he’s caught his breath, he slowly slips out of you, lifting himself to admire the way his seed spills out of your pretty cunt. You feel his cum spill out your cunt, down your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he says aloud and your lips curl into a tired smile. “So dirty and full of my cum.”

He leaves the bed, heading towards the washroom to grab a warm cloth and you lay there, tired. Exhaustion seeps itself into your bones, lids heavy as they flutter shut. You don’t hear Jungkook return, but rather feel him when a warm cloth brushes against your swollen pussy, cleaning you up. He’s swift to clean you up the best he could before attending to himself and putting the rag away. Maneuvering over you, he brings the blanket over your bodies, nudging you to lay beside him.

“You were so good, baby,” he whispers as he pulls you closer towards him. “Always so good for me.”

“Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Are you tired?”

“Yea.” You nuzzle against his chest finding comfort in listening to his heartbeat. “I honestly could’ve knocked out after that first orgasm.”

He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. “Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We do?” You furrow your brows. “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna help you pack your boxes so you can move in by the end of the week.” You laugh along with him, throwing a leg over his own as you get comfortable. “Are you sure? You really ready to move in?”

Unable to hide your smile, you press a chaste kiss to his chest. “Yea, I’m sure.”

"You’ll be stuck with me for a long time,” he hums, exhaustion washing over him. “I won’t be letting you go for a while.”

"You better not.” Your smile quickly turns to a frown when you finally notice. “Jungkook?”

“Yea.”

“I'm hungry.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jeon jugnkook #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #bts smut #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook imagines #usersuhdays

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nejibaby · 4 years ago

Text

Fun

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

Summary: With you near-death experience in Dressrosa, you’re craving for a certain type of release.

Warning: NSFW!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: A certain Luffy fanart has made me think of dirty thoughts about him so here I am posting this filthy thing. I’m so flustered, it’s not even kinky but writing smut really flusters me LOL 🤣 Please let me know your thoughts~

Celebrations are usual occurrences in the Straw Hat crew. Despite only having almost half the crew around, it doesn’t make the party any less lively. In fact, the presence of the new allies formed in Dressrosa makes up for the absence of the other crew members.

The near-death experience makes you crave for a certain type of release. And with the copious amount of alcohol being passed around by everyone, it doesn’t take you too long to gather up courage to find someone to help you.

Soon enough, you’re seated on a random guy’s lap, heavily making out with him, a few meters away from the celebrating people. Because of the alcohol, you’re not entirely sure who he is, but you have to admit he’s skilled at using his lips, his tongue, and his hands.

He’s just about to move you into a more private location, but before he could take you away, an arm wraps itself around your waist and suddenly you’re being pulled back into someone else’s lap.

You look at the person who just interrupted your moment, only to be surprised upon finding out it was your captain. “Luffy, what the hell?!”

“Oi, what were you doing with Torao?”

Torao? Trafalgar Law? You whip your head to where you previously were to confirm if the guy who you were with is truly him. Lo and behold, you find Law glaring at Luffy, and then angrily walking away.

You pout and let out a frustrated huff. “Ah, we were just having fun. I’ll just—” you point towards where Law went, “head back so we can...” you absentmindedly trail off, and then you attempt to get up from Luffy’s lap. Keyword: attempt. Because Luffy grips your legs so you couldn’t leave.

You furrow your brows at his actions. Just as you are to ask him why he’s keeping you there, he asks, “Why don’t you want to have fun with me?”

You swear your brain short circuited the moment his question left his lips. If you’re sober, you’re certain you would’ve taken his question innocently. But with the alcohol fogging up your mind, you aren’t sure if he’s just sulking because he wants you to party with him or if he’s inviting you to continue what you’ve been doing a while ago but with him instead of Law. And so, you want to clarify what he means. “What?”

Luffy giggles at your dumbfounded expression. He thought you didn’t hear him from the noise everyone is making, so he leans in, his lips almost touching your ear as he unconsciously rubs your thighs while saying, “I said, why don’t you want to have fun with me?”

And then he pulls away, waiting for your answer.

It isn’t easy to fluster you, but with Luffy’s proximity, the way his hands are moving, and the fact that you’re still aroused after the interrupted makeout session, you find yourself being affected by his question and it’s underlying meaning.

“I, uhm, I-I…” you stutter, unable to look at him in the eyes. You attempt to look elsewhere but suddenly your eyes land on his lips.

You’ve heard of people before who talked about how Luffy has his way of drawing people in and making them his allies. Right now that’s exactly what he’s doing with you, drawing you in — except, he’s doing it quite literally.

Before you know it, you’re leaning into him, and then your lips are on his. He smiles into the kiss before pulling you impossibly closer.

Luffy’s kisses are rather messy and uncoordinated, but it quickly makes you feel lightheaded and excited.

You’re so caught up with the moment to the point that it didn’t occur to you that you have instinctively started grinding on him. You’re only made aware of your actions when you hear Luffy groaning in pleasure. And that’s when you start wanting more, but you’re both still on the deck and there are still drunk people around, even if you both aren’t near them.

Luffy tries to follow your lips when you pull away. And then he pouts when your lips are out of reach. He whines your name, obviously wanting to continue.

“Luffy, I… we should… uhm…” you clear your throat. “I want you,” you whisper.

But Luffy isn’t even listening. His focus is solely on your lips and when you bite your lip nervously, he almost shivers in anticipation.

You take this opportunity to drag him into his room. Thankfully, he doesn’t object nor ask any questions, he just follows your lead. And when you’ve entered his room, you immediately lock the door and start kissing him once again.

You gently nudge Luffy to his bed, not even daring to break the kiss in the process. For some reason, the kiss turns rougher than before, almost feral.

When Luffy reaches the bed and sits down on it, you immediately climb on his lap. You grab a hold of his calloused hands and guide them under your tank top, towards your breasts. He kneads them instantly and you let out a whimper.

Luffy pulls away from the kiss. He removes his hands from under your tank top, and then the next thing you know, he’s tearing up the offensive garment. You haven’t even asked why he did that but he explains already, “It was in the way! I want to feel you better.”

If that’s the case, you unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room before he’d even think about ripping it off as well.

Luffy takes a moment to stare at your half naked form. With the way your boobs are slightly moving with every breath you take, he easily finds himself in a trance.

You snap him out of it by grinding on his bulge. You pull him in again for a kiss and he instantly cups your breasts with his hands again. He kneads your boobs and pinches your nipples, and you let out soft mewls in satisfaction.

You bite his lip and he lets out a sexy grunt. You palm his hardened cock and it instantly makes him breathless. He calls your name with a quiver in his voice.

You grab one of his hands and bring it under your skirt, inside your panties and urge him to touch your cunt. “You’re wet,” he breathlessly comments.

You slip one of his fingers into you, guiding him in and out. When he’s found his rhythm, you let go of his hand and let him do as he pleases. He adds another finger soon enough. The sensation elicits a moan from you.

“Do that again,” Luffy says. “Do that sound again.”

You oblige, resting your head on his shoulder as you moan at his ministrations.

You use this time to unzip his pants and tug his cock from the garments. When you start pumping him, he lets out a lewd groan and temporarily stops his fingers from moving. This goes on for a while and when Luffy starts moving his hips with the motion of your hands, you stop.

You pull away completely from him. And then you start stripping him off of his clothes until Luffy’s naked. You watch as he licks his fingers clean from the wetness of your cunt and he hums in appreciation. When he’s done, you take off your remaining clothes as well.

You grab a hold of his dick once again and kiss him on the lips. Your hand movements are slow as you switch from kissing his lips to his neck. You leave a couple of hickeys on him. Then you slowly make your way down, kissing, sucking, licking, biting his chest, his abs, until you’re on your knees, face directly in front of his dick.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, a look that you’ve never seen before on him. You look directly at him as you make kitten licks on his cock. You watch as he visibly gulps. And then you take him in your mouth and start sucking him off. Luffy pants and grunts at your ministrations. You then grabbed his balls and massaged them.

“That feels so good,” he moans.

Luffy uncontrollably juts his hips, wanting more of the pleasurable sensation you’re making him feel. And you let him.

But when you feel his cock twitching, you pull away.

Luffy whines loudly, but you push him so that he’s laying on the bed. You climb atop him, grab his shaft and coat it with your wetness. And then you slowly sink down until he’s fully inside you.

“T-tight…” Luffy mutters, “you’re so tight.”

You wait until you’ve fully adjusted to his size before you start moving. Luffy stares at you in desire as you move on top of him, your tits bouncing with every motion. He watches your face with fascination as he’s never seen your face contort with pleasure like this before. And for some reason, this makes him harder.

Then his body moves on his own, too lost in lust, his hands start squeezing your breasts, his hips start thrusting into you.

When he notices you tiring down, he easily flips the position so that you’re under him. All that’s going through his head is how good you make him feel.

“Luffy… fuck… so good…” you moan out loudly, unable to even make a proper sentence.

He snaps his hips faster and rougher as time progresses. He’s pounding into you so hard that the bed starts creaking and the headboard slams against the walls.

But those sounds are nothing compared to the noises the both of you are making. You have resorted to repeating his name like a mantra along with profanities here and there, while Luffy grunts and moans to your ears, sometimes telling you how amazing you feel.

All too soon, you’re clenching against him so tightly as you climaxed. This brings out a more brutal pace from Luffy as he starts chasing his own high. And when he releases his load in you, you almost shudder at the feeling.

When Luffy pulls out, he notices your juices leaking out of you. And before you can even comprehend what he’s planning, he starts licking.

Your breath hitches from the stimulation, but Luffy doesn’t stop until you’re completely clean.

And when he’s done, he’s grinning widely at you.

“Luffy, that’s…” you start to say, but you didn’t know what word or words you’re supposed to use. Hot? Sexy? Best fuck you’ve had in a while?

Before you can even come up with what to say however, Luffy tells you, “That was fun! We should do that again!”

#one piece scenario #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece luffy #one piece lemon #one piece smut #luffy lemon #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #one piece imagine #op luffy #luffy smut #straw hat luffy #mugiwara no luffy

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shiftingimagines · 3 years ago

Text

Obsessed! Bucky Barnes x short reader

•He was obsessed

•You we’re just so cute and tiny

•In his defense lots of people were tiny compared to him. But none of them were cute.

• He wanted to coddle you and help you with everything.

•Except you were so independent. Which pissed him off.

• “Do you need help grabbing that Y/n?” Bucky smirked. “No thank you.” You smiled sweetly jumping up to grab whatever it was you needed.

• Sometimes he would purposely put your stuff up on a high shelf just to see you try and jump and get it.

•Or sometimes he would put his stuff on a high shelf and ask you to get it. “Hey y/n can you grab me my water/bottle since you’re already up” “sure thing Buck” except you couldn’t reach it. You had to climb on the counter to grab it. Bucky getting up “never mind doll it’s alright.” He grabbed it with ease. And than grabbed you putting you down on the floor. “Be more careful it’s dangerous to do that” Bucky scolded. “I’m an avenger.” You say confused.

•And oh he loved watching you sitting in a chair. Wether it a bar stool, a regular chair, couch. Just watching your feet dangle was too much for him.

•Bucky dreamed of the day that you asked him for help.

•And then it finally happened.

•You and Bucky got sent on a mission. You were chasing after some villain when you guys needed to climb up some janky ladder on a building to get to the bad guy. Except you couldn’t reach it. It hadn’t been unhooked and was to high up.

• “Bucky I can’t reach” you said agitated. You hated feeling so small. You were an avenger and you couldn’t even reach a stupid ladder.

• “what was that doll?” Bucky pretended he couldn’t hear from the top of the roof. He needed to hear you say that again. “Can you come down and help? I can’t reach!” And that’s what Bucky did he helped. “Bucky picked you up and put you on the ladder.”

• “Did you see which way they went Bucky?” “Forget them y/n.” “What Bucky they just robbed a bank!” “I said forget them” Bucky growled pushing you down to ground.

•”B-Bucky.” You stuttered “what are you doing.” Bucky aggressively kissed you. But you kissed back.

• “We’re going to get in trouble. We just lost them” you said after the kiss was broken. “You’re not getting in trouble, because you’re not going back.” “What are you talking abo-“ but it all went black

•Bucky was taking you back home with him. This world was to dangerous for his tiny little doll.

#bucky barnes headcannons #bucky barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes #the avengers #the avengers Headcannons #bucky barnes x reader #short reader #Bucky Barnes x short reader

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fruggo · 3 years ago

Note

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”

#:) i kinda rly like this ahaha it was fun #i hope it’s okay <3 #fruggo writes #requests #enemies to lovers prompt #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison #the legion x reader #the legion #dbd x reader #dbd oneshot #dbd writing #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd frank

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ncitygirls · 4 years ago

Text

yours - jaemin x f reader

fluff, smut, bffs2lovers, 3k

before joining you to your cousin’s wedding, jaemin had made a big deal about not being properly invited. as always, mark kept true to his habit of innocently causing trouble when it suited him. ‘i’m like family! where’s my invite!’ but it was hard to fault mark, because of course jaemin had been invited. somehow, his parents neglected to inform him that your cousin had rightfully assumed jaemin would know he was included in the na family’s invite. you said nothing though. especially when jaemin had briefly explained the reason for his displeasure. ‘we deserve our own invite, y/n. one for us together.’ which made no sense at all, because you’re just friends. you’re not together. however you had no idea you were alone in thinking that.

you see, jaemin was more acquainted with your family than some of your own relatives. he was invited to christmases, weddings, birthdays. basically any and all occasions your family saw fit to celebrate, jaemin was in attendance. yet surprisingly, even after having grown up alongside you and mark, a few of your more distant cousins were more than happy to express their displeasure with his more forward placed seat. because, like you keep reminding everybody: jaemin is just your best friend. but apparently, best friends didn’t reserve the rights to things you gave to jaemin. not in your extended family’s eyes. not that yours and mark’s family cared.

yet in the end, like most things regarding you, jaemin knew his attendance tonight had been a mistake. but not because of the petty feud his presence birthed in the lee lineage. oh no. it’s because, unlike most nights jaemin spends in your company - with your hair strewn about, mascara permanently smudged, and a lazy grin etched on - tonight, you were his least favourite kind of y/n. the one where he can’t help but follow you with his eyes, watch the placement of your feet, enjoy the shrill tone of your cackle. throughout the night, jaemin had found himself warmed by the way you drag your balled up fist over your made up eye, how you sing along to songs you don’t know the words to, how you wobble in your heels before you cling to him.

jaemin makes the mistake of enjoying you a bit too much. how you scowl as your relatives chat shit a bit too loud for you liking, how you make a scene of conspicuously covering his ears, unaware of how unbothered he is. how you try so hard to make him happy, in the smallest and largest of ways. so he drags you into a dance when you move to walk over, ready to rip your own blood a new one. “i’m gonna kill ‘em.”

“no,” he states simply, one of his hands slipping from your hand to your waist. “dance with me.”

“who do they think they are!” your voice adopts an unsettling shrillness that he can’t help but chuckle at. it even throws his head back. “why are you so happy? you should be mad!”

“because i don’t care,” he shrugs, tightening his hold on you slightly. “i’m here- you’re here. why would i not be happy?”

“you’re such a fucking leo.”

he still doesn’t know what that means, but he laughs anyway, happy that your deduction seemed to satisfy you. you eventually calm down, a peace settling over you as he spins you lazily around the dance floor. there’s some early 2000s track playing, one definitely unfitting for the way he’s swaying you. but you pay it no mind, speaking softly as he presses his cheek to the crown of your head.

“when do you wanna head up?” up, meaning the hotel room your relatives are also wound up about. it was intended for the bridal party and far travelled guests, neither of which they are. and neither of which you are. but you were your cousin’s favourite. and so was he. so naturally, you two had one reserved. even your parents had opted to stay at a cottage a couple roads over. “i think the boys are all gone already.”

he notes the guilt tainting your tone, knowing how drained jaemin grew from both physical and social interactions of any kind. so you knew well what his answer would be. “when you’re ready.”

“okay,” slipping out of his hold, you drag him over to the newly married couple. you exchange brief goodnights and grateful tidings before he excuses himself to find the jacket of his tuxedo. the search doesn’t take long, his eyes landing on the black coat a few seconds after parting. he does give himself a breather though, his knees cracking as the seat holding his jacket readily carries his weight. he doesn’t dare shut his eyes, knowing full well he’ll fall victim to his fatigue. so instead, he let’s them follow the one thing that always occupies his mind, that can keep him up all night. he finds you far quicker than he did his coat, the pink satin of your dress falling half way down your calf as you skipped over to bid some other guests farewell. he sighs happily, glad you never force him into such tedious pleasantries. you learnt a long time ago that while impossibly affectionate, jaemin’s social clock ticked a few hours faster than any one else’s. so by your timing, it had probably expired a little after the vows. it took a little bit of getting used to, but it also meant for quicker farewells and a speedier exit.

it’s only now jaemin realises this was a mistake. because before he ever gets his breather, less from you, but all the feelings that come from being with you, you’re at his side. he’s learned how not to cease up at your touch anymore. instead, linking his fingers with yours when they rest gently on his shoulder. when he peeks up at you, his eyes blinded less by the party lighting and more by your tired smile, he knows not to sigh, forcing down his body’s natural response to your attention. but when you tug at his hands, bringing him to stand, whispering a-

“let’s go home, yeah?”

he knows this isn’t a mistake. this is torture.

it’s how you pour him a tall, ice cold glass of domesticity with every meal. your hand wrapped in his as you lead him through the hotel. you slip out of your heels somewhere between the lobby and the elevator, grinning up at him as he takes them from you. jaemin even curses himself, his body responding to your needs unthinkingly. he tries to calm his beating heart by counting the floors, his eyes following the analog dial as you lean against his shoulder, fiddling with his cuffs.

“do you want them off?” you ask softly, barely a touch louder than the elevator music. he nods, though your gel nails are already picking at the gold, removing them with ease. “gimme the other one.” he inhales deeply, cursing whoever gave you to him. well, not really. you weren’t really his. but god did you act like it.

your hands slip into his pocket for the room key before slipping back into his hand. he just follows you out, caught in a happy daze as you take him ‘home’. you struggle a bit with the key card, trying it every which way before he leans into you, wrapping his arm around you as he reaches for the card. “the arrow’s pointing this way,” his thumb nail presses on the black arrow indicating the direction you have to push it. he doesn’t see you roll your eyes, but he guesses you do. so he presses his lips to your temple in apology. “you’ll get it next time.”

“piss off,” you laugh, pushing the door open when it clicks. he throws the heels and jacket on a chair by the door before collapsing onto the adjacent couch, his body ready to succumb to his dire need for rest. he can just about hear you rustling through the bags in the bathroom, your feet padding around on the linoleum. when it muffles slightly, he figures out immediately what you’ve returned for when you stop between his thighs. “thank you,” you sigh, his fingers already pinching at the zip on your dress. it sits low at the base of your spine, the back of the dress leaving you completely exposed. he’d taken to placing his hand there all night, his fingers gliding up and down the skin whenever he got the chance. when it’s down, his eyes linger on your hips, the top of your panties peeking out before you slap his knee.

“what?”

“the necklace,” your back is still turned, hair blocking his view. “please?” you add, hand smoothing over the skin of his knee.

“come here,” he pulls you down to sit between his thighs, his legs parting to make space for you. you land with a huff, quickly realising you haven’t sat down all night. jaemin realises this too, your neck craning a bit further to the side than necessary as he tucks your hair over your shoulder. “you okay?”

“mhm,” you hum, squeezing his thigh. “just a bit sleepy.”

“a bit?” he laughs, a little breathless as he gathers the chain he got you one christmas. “i think you’ve earned a good sleep.” he surmises, hands squeezing your shoulders gently. “but you know you were a guest today, right? not the planner?”

“yeah?” turning onto your knees, you glare down at him. “someone had to sort my uncle out, he was steaming!”

“yes, true,” he laughs. “just make sure you’re not doing that at my wedding.”

you feign surprise at that, “i’m invited to your wedding?”

“of course,” his hands squeeze yours earnestly before he whispers, “can’t have my wedding without the bride, can i-”

“fuck off!” his cackles chase you out the room. while you wash up, he makes quick work of his tux, throwing his slacks over the back of the couch, his thumbs slowly unhooking each of his buttons. a true man of leisure, he’s in all but his socks and draws when you return. “all done!” you sing, throwing the dress down as you reappear in an oversized t-shirt. he recognises it almost immediately from uni. it’s his soccer team’s jersey. it has his number on the back.

“finally,” he whines, pushing you aside as he makes his way inside, quickly locking the door to avoid your attacks. he goes to reach for his wash bag just to find the reason he did already waiting unpacked. in a small cup on the side is his toothbrush, resting sweetly beside yours. he ignores the hygienic implications of this and skips right to the romantic. because, while jaemin thinks and often dreams of placing your first name with his last, and while he spends most of his free time with you, and while he would take any number of bullets for you, he still can’t for the life of him figure you out. even after he bombards you with affection, praise, teasing, flirting, kisses. you’re still just you. making him just him.

and that’s fine, if that’s what you want. but he’s not sure he truly knows what it is you want. and this gets him thinking about the little things. how his hand is seldom empty in your presence. how you never think of him second, always first. how you want to be with him always. moments like now, when he returns to find you hanging his tux on its hanger, encasing it in its protective sleeve. his arms slip around your waist, pulling you flush against him. and you melt instantly, resting in his embrace. “thanks,” he mumbles, lips pressing gently to your shoulder.

“‘is okay,” you hum, hanging it over the back of the door before resting your hands over his. see, hands never empty when you’re near. he sways you back and forth, his heart beating gently into your back as you lean into him. “did you have fun?” you ask, squeezing at his forearms, “i know we probably stayed later than you’d like-”

“it was great.” see, always putting him first. “did you want to stay longer?”

“not without you.” see, how you want to be with him always. he wonders how you don’t see it. how you don’t see you’re killing him. “come on,” you mumble, shutting off the light as you blindly drag him to bed. jaemin has an annoying habit of following you in, his body shuffling in after yours, rather than separating and meeting in the middle. it doesn’t allow you much room, by the time you reach your side, he’s encased you in his arms, legs, even his head, his chin slotting itself in the crook of your neck. “nana?”

“hm?”

“i’m sorry about today,” the apology doesn’t shock him, but rather your disappointment. “you’re more like family to mark and i than they ever were. tonight was just proof of that.”

“it’s okay,” he squeezes you a touch harder, trying to decipher whether your words harm or soothe the growing hole in his heart. “i can’t say i don’t see where they’re coming from.”

“what d’you mean?”

“i dunno,” he starts, thinking as his lips press to the back of your neck. “i guess i’d be confused by us too,” he mutters against your skin.

“how so?” you press, turning in his hold, gazing up at him. his eyes are more than used to the dark now as he gazes back down at you. you’re tucked right up to him, the covers strewn over your lower halves. he rests his temple on his palm, elbow pressed into the mattress as you fiddle with his fingers. “what’s confusing?”

he shrugs as best he can, watching his hand in yours. “i dunno,” he repeats, grinning when you huff. “i just- i think it’s hard for people to get that i’m your friend,” he tries, “just your friend.”

“what else would you be?” what else? what else?!

“i dunno,” he repeats for the third time, though he knows exactly what you’d be. but you don’t need to know that. not when you seemed so happy, so satisfied with how things are already. and that’s what’s most important to him. your happiness. and jaemin couldn’t exactly say he wasn’t happy with how things are either, he just knows there could be more to you both, more to this. more to him than being your best friend. but maybe it’s for another night. like he tells himself every time you push a topic you’re not remotely ready to breach. “let’s forget it-”

“no,” he flinches, just preparing to settle down for sleep. “am i missing something? if i am, just tell me.”

“i-” he drops his forehead to yours then. he’s so close, your eyes have to cross just for you to see him. it’s only when he rises you see a change in him. a nervous jaemin isn’t one you’re use to. it’s one that you would rather never see, it truly worries you. especially as he agrees, a small “okay,” leaving him before he kisses the tip of your nose, his lips barely puckered as they meet the skin. he grins as he does, his teeth gleaming in the moonlit room, his eyes open just wide enough to see you. his lips drop to your cheek, warming as your skin does. he hovers there as your hand tightens on his arm, clinging to him. he daren’t move, afraid the slightest jolt will wake him, drag him right out of this sleepless dream. when your grip loosens, he drops his head until he’s right by your mouth, his lips daringly puckering before he presses them to the corner of your lips. he stills as yours do too, your soft lips, now embalmed in his memory, pressing there ever so gently before he rises once more. he waits a second, watching the smallest of shivers rack through you before he dips again, lips falling to your neck. he smiles against your skin, overjoyed as you subtly crane your neck. his teeth drag over your skin as he journeys down the column of your neck, your hands gripping onto him a touch harder when he stops.

his fingers glide along the skin of your side, thumb pressing into the dip of your waist. he stops short of your chest, locked mid motion as he watches you breathe. there is no haste in his movements. no need to rush anything. no need to hurry. all there is, is a beat. a steady one in his chest. one that holds him here, one where he can’t move, can’t bring himself to test the waters you’ve just dared he enter. not even as the pads of your fingers glide along the warm skin of his neck, nails dragging through his nape, silently daring him to move. he pants over your chest, a lazy grin pulling at his mouth as you ask him again-

“what else would you be, jaem?”

he moves unthinkingly. as his dampened lips meet the hardened nub through your t-shirt, sucking on you through the aged material. his rolls his teeth gently, his fingers at your side finding your neglected nipple as you whine out for him. he feels himself slipping into delirium, caught somewhere between a dream and reality, unsure where exactly he’d rather be. he decides it doesn’t matter, not when you’re there. here. with him. letting him touch you in ways he never really thought possible. ways jaemin only ever imagined, only ever let himself surrender to in the dead of night. in the solitude of his own shameful company. he never thought of this. not really.

he had hoped, maybe even prayed, but never truly believed he’d have you whimpering for him. your fingers falling in the gaps between his own, pressing his open palm harder against your thinly veiled heat, your hips rolling against it. jaemin never thought he’d hear your whines, the sound cutting through him like knives, like ice shooting through his veins. he never thought you’d want him. not like this.

“jaem,” he’s with you in seconds, his spit slick lips an inch above yours. he watches patiently as you grind up against his hand, feeling his fingers prod at your desperate heat.

“you wanna know what else i could be?”

you nod. “please.”

“i could be yours.”

#i haven’t got the range #also i have jaemin on the brain and friendship too!#meet me at the altar #ncitygirls #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct smut #nct fluff #needs another proofread #enjoy!

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wonderfilworld · 4 years ago

Text

Celebrate - J.P.

James Potter x reader where James wins an important quidditch match and the reader wants to help him celebrate.

a/n: this is based off a request I got from a lovely anon, thank you!! also, this is going to take place during 7th year and both james and reader are 18!

word count: 4.9k

warnings/contains: NSFW!! smut: oral, unprotected sex, praise kink-ish; cursing; drinking. if I missed anything, let me know!

if you want more stories like this, send in a request here

Masterlist

you sat on the edge of your seat the whole game, chewing on your thumb as remus quietly berated you time and time again, stop doing that, he says, but you ignore him. you know how important this game is to your boyfriend: james had not been himself the past couple of weeks; school work was piling up and he was just not getting it. he was so stressed about school lately, and he confessed to you the other night that he was worried his recent mood change would affect this game. he takes quidditch seriously - so seriously - and while you may not understand it, you love him with all your heart so you learn to love the things he loves. you quickly assured him that he was amazing and of course he would play great and that gryffindor just had to beat slytherin today or you wouldn’t give him kisses for a week. that seemed to get him, as he perked up and promised he would win, just for you.

you tried to pay attention to the game, you really did, but your eyes just wouldn’t leave your boyfriends figure as he sat atop his broomstick. he just looked so good - tan and dark beautiful hair, and his muscles, god, his muscles made you weak. you seriously hoped gryffindor could pull this win off, because you desperately wanted to give james the surprise you had planned. your boyfriend, however, had you wrapped around his finger, and you knew you would end up giving him his surprise either way.

before you knew it, the game was over and gryffindor had won the match. you jumped up and down, attacking remus as you both cheered. you looked at james and saw him point to you, his signature smirk gracing his features. he and his teammates ran off to the locker rooms to change while the rest of your house headed to the common room to start the celebratory party.

______

you had a cup of firewhisky in your hand, lightly humming to the music that flowed throughout the room. the air was thick; it was hot and people were standing entirely too close to you. sirius had just arrived to the party, and you rolled your eyes as he winked at you. you looked around to see if your boyfriend was right behind him, but you saw no sign of the brunette so you went back to swaying you hips to the music.

you felt a pair of hands grab your waist from behind and you quickly jerk yourself around, ready to reprimand whoever thought they could grab you like that. you are instead met with your lover, “you know you’re not supposed to be drinking that stuff, princess,” james chastises you, looking down to the cup of alcohol in your hand. you have unfortunately come to realize that firewhisky is not your friend, recalling the night last year where you drank with the boys for the first time, and let’s just say that you are definitely not on good terms with firewhiskey, and james does not trust you within five feet of it.

you scoff at his remark since you’re usually the one chiding him and reply, “I actually got this for you.”

he throws a hand over his heart in fake indignation before taking the cup from your hands and puckering his lips for a kiss. “my bad, baby, can I make it up to you?”

it’s your turn to scoff now as you lean on your tip toes to plant a quick peck to his puckered lips. he whines and tries to chase you for more but you quickly throw a finger in his face as you stop him, “don’t worry, baby, you’ll be getting plenty of kisses from me tonight.”

He perks up at that, his smirk taking over his face and he takes his first sip of alcohol. he doesn’t want to get drunk, not even tipsy, but you were so sweet to get it for him and the action makes his chest tighten and warmth spread throughout his body. he loves you, and he never wastes an opportunity to tell or show you. he’s opting to show you right now, wants to drag you up the stairs and throw you on his bed and completely ruin you for being so amazing to him these past few weeks.

it’s not like james to be insecure, he’s usually the optimistic one who always tries to keep a smile on your face, but the fact that you give as much as you get, really emphasizes to him that you’re equals, and that he can trust you with any and everything. he wraps his free arm around your waist as your hands come together on his chest to hold the fabric of his shirt. “I love you,” he breathes, and the sentiment is so sincere, the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your visage. instead of answering, you lean back up to mold your lips with his, both hands coming to either side of his head. you love him too, he knows, and actions speak much louder than words.

“hey, potter!” someone yells from across the crowded room. james groans as you break the kiss, looking back to the person who called for him. they wave him over and he looks back at you apologetically.

“go on,” you say, knowing that people want to congratulate him on a great game. usually he makes his rounds before he finds you at these parties, but he was so desperate to see you after his rough week that he forgot all about the other people in the room. you lean up to whisper in his ear before he departs from you, “come to your room when you’ve finished, I have a surprise for you.” he jerks his head back to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“i’ll be quick,” he promises.

“take your time,” you say with a smile. you run up the stairs to your dorm quickly, grabbing the treat you had just gotten for james from your latest hogsmead trip. you hastily make your way to james’ room, finding him sitting on the end of his bed waiting for you.

he leans back on his hands as you shut the door, cocking his head to the side as he speaks. “where’d you go?”

you walk towards him, climbing to sit astride his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck as you pull his lips to yours.

you kiss him deep, not wasting time on teasing as you lick into his mouth. james groans, hands gripping your waist tightly. you break from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths. james watches as it stretches and breaks and he groans again, and you can feel how he grows harder underneath you. “had to go get your surprise,” you say.

his eyes are still on your wet mouth, but they shoot to your own at that, and a grin breaks out on his face. instead of replying, he grabs the back of your head and brings your mouths back together. it’s messy and fast and you can hardly breathe with how hard your faces are pressed together. his tongue is in your mouth, and you can taste the firewhisky on his breath as he licks around - at your teeth, the roof of your mouth, your own tongue. you’re beginning to grow hot, but not the same hot as before in the crowded common room. the kind of hot where your stomach churns with lust and if james doesn’t touch you soon you think you’ll explode.

your hands are in his hair, pulling because you know he likes it. you’re hoping he gets the message, that you need some friction between your thighs, because his mouth is still on yours and you can’t break away. your core is tingling and you are desperate to have anything he’ll give you. luckily, james seems to understand as his hands return to your waist and pull your core directly on top of his cock, fully hard now and straining against the fabric of his jeans. the pressure gets him to finally break away from your lips so you can breathe and you both moan at the friction. he begins to kiss along your jaw, moving down the side of your neck as you continue the steady rocking of your hips. he begins to suck on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and you whimper, your hips beginning to go a little harder against his.

“shit -” james whispers, his own hips bucking up. he brings his head up to see your face; your head is thrown back, eyes closed and mouth parted slightly as little gasps leave your throat. “please sit on my face,” he begs, squeezing your hips.

you whimper again, dropping your head on his shoulder as your hips pick up the pace. his voice is deep and raspy, and all it does is add fuel to the fire burning in your core. you nod your head, bringing it back up to look in his eyes. “o-okay” you say quietly, and you hate yourself for not being able to speak clearly when you’re in this state, know that james loves to tease you about it. he taps your hip and you swing your leg off of him, sitting by his side. you watch as he scoots to the head of the bed, laying his head atop his pillow. “take your clothes off,” he tells you.

you stand on shaky legs, grabbing the end of your shirt and pulling it over your head. you reach down and pop the button of your jeans, grabbing the zipper and pulling it down. once those are removed, you reach behind your back, unhooking the clasp of your bra as you watch james reach down to palm himself over his jeans. you see how his chest is moving up and down, breathing heavily and you see the way his eyelids flutter as he squeezes the bulge. once your bra is on the floor, you go to do the same to your panties, but james stops you.

“wait - leave those on,” he says.

you do as he says and climb on the bed to straddle him once more. you rock your hips again, the lack of clothing making the feeling absolutely delicious. your head drops back again as you beg him, “please let me take your clothes off.”

“not yet baby, come up here,” he removes his glasses before setting them on the bedside table and then grabbing at your hips and pulling your body up. you’re nervous now and he can see it. he’s eaten you out plenty of times but this is different, but all he wants to do is watch your body writhe and jerk on top of him as you ride his tongue. he knows what his words do to you so he speaks again, “wanna taste that pretty pussy so bad, baby. please let me, wanna make you feel so good. want you to cum all over my face.”

you can’t help but moan as you nod your head, letting him lead you up until you’re hovering right over his mouth. you don’t want to look down, can’t handle that yet, so you close your eyes and grab the headboard. his hands go under your thighs and he grabs your hips once more.

his tongue licks a broad stripe up your clothed cunt, making sure to apply extra pressure to your throbbing clit. you gasp as your head involuntarily drops down and your hips rock onto his face. his lips wrap around the sensitive nub and he sucks and you can’t help but to let out a loud moan. it feels so good, somehow even better than normal but you’re sure it’s because this is something new.

he’s still licking over your panties, full on making out with your clothed pussy, and something about that makes you roll your hips again. it’s incredibly dirty, but you can’t find it in you to care - and neither can james apparently, as he lets out content sighs and moans as he eats you out. but eventually, you need more, your panties need to go and you need to feel his wet tongue and warm mouth all over you.

you whimper loudly as you bring a hand down to his head to grab his hair. “more please, I need - oh,” you moan as he hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling it to the side as he finally makes direct contact with your cunt. you’re dripping, and it’s all over his face and james doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. his tongue dips into you, licks around inside, before he brings it back out to lay flat on your clit. then he stops, eyes blinking open to look up at you. you whine when he doesn’t continue. “james,” you cry, “please.”

“ride my tongue,” he says, voice muffled against your pussy. you throw your head back as you whimper, and james can feel the way your cunt clenches due to his words.

you don’t argue - mainly because you simply can’t speak - and you begin to slowly move your hips back and forth. it feels so good and moans leave your mouth every time you jerk forward. you circle your cunt on his tongue, and james groans loudly, hands squeezing the plush of your thighs. you’re full on humping his face now, hips speeding up as you chase your orgasm. you can feel it in your lower tummy, getting so tight and your vision is getting spotty. you can feel all the ridges of his tongue against your clit, and the tip of his tongue catches on it as you rear back and you cry out. your legs are shaking and your thighs are burning from holding yourself up and you need to cum now.

it takes one more thrust against james’ mouth before your body jerks, and your hips stutter as you grip the headboard tightly between your hands, riding out your orgasm. your moans are loud, louder than they’ve ever been, and james is painfully hard beneath his pants.

once your vision clears and the waves of pleasure subside, you get up from your spot over his face, and you crawl back until your mouth is on top of his, kissing him hard. his face is soaked and it makes you moan against his lips as you taste yourself. you fist his shirt between your hands before you lean back, taking james with you so you can finally get his clothes off.

once you’ve pulled his shirt over his head, you throw it behind you, focusing on the zipper to his jeans. you yank his pants down, not even bothered with getting them off completely as you just want him in your mouth already. you push his upper body back down so he’s lying there, head on his pillow, watching you as you put your lips to his cock through his boxers. he hisses as you poke your tongue out, licking along the length of it. you would tease him more, you really would, but you’re impatient and he did just give you a mind blowing orgasm with his mouth just few seconds ago. so instead you put your fingers in the waist band of his boxers, pulling them down and you can’t help the moan that escapes you as his cock slaps against his stomach. he’s so incredibly hard - you can’t help but think that it must be so uncomfortable: it’s red and pre cum just keeps bubbling out of the tip; it’s already made a small puddle on james’ abdomen and your mouth waters at the sight.

you wrap your hand around the base of james’ dick, giving it a little squeeze as you pick it up. you lean forward, placing a kiss right over the puddle of pre cum that’s on his stomach. you suck it up, swallowing before licking over the spot to make sure you get it all. your eyes are closed and you hear james let out a breathy chuckle as he mumbles quietly, “tease.”

you pout, you wanna make him moan and curse and you want to taste more of the warm and salty liquid from your boyfriend’s cock. you lick the head of his dick, knowing how sensitive his slit is. you pay extra attention there, collecting more of his pre cum before you put the whole head in your mouth and suck lightly.

james arches his back, whispering a quiet fuck. you continue to suckle at the head of his cock, he’s big and it’s easier for you to focus on the head with your mouth while your hands travel up and down the rest. james is breathing heavier now, and you reach up and grab his hand in your own to bring it down to your head. he understands what you want and he fists your hair in a make-shift pony tail as you start to lower your mouth on his cock even more. you start a steady rhythm up and down, using your hands on the parts that you can’t reach.

“oh fuck,” james pants. “just like that.” his hands grip your hair tighter and the throbbing of your cunt returns and you squeeze your thighs together to help quell it. he pulls your head up and off his cock and you whine as you look up at him. “spit on it,” he tells you.

you lean up gathering saliva at the front of your mouth before pursing your lips and letting it drip out of your mouth and onto the tip of his dick. it twitches in your hand and you look back up to him for permission to continue. james nods, and so you go back down to take him into your mouth once more. you suck harder and james grunts, “love that fucking mouth,” he says, and it’s strained, and you moan around his cock and he groans louder. you love the praise he gives you, you want more of it, so you start to go faster, running your tongue along the vein that runs on the underside of his dick. you twist your hand right under his tip as you suck, and james drops his head back with a loud moan that has your cunt clenching around nothing.

he pulls on your hair and you come off his cock with an obscenely loud pop! and under normal circumstances you would be extremely embarrassed, but at the current moment, with the dull throb in your core, you can’t find it in yourself to care. “get up here,” he orders.

you crawl up his body until you put your pussy directly under his cock, and you can’t help but to grind into him as your lips meet in a messy kiss. every thing is just so wet - your mouths with saliva, your core with your slick and spit from james’ cock, and both of your bodies are shining with perspiration from your strenuous activities.

“please,” you whine. his cockhead is catching your clit just right on every roll of your hips and you feel tears well up in your eyes as the pull in your tummy grows.

“please what?” james asks, and he seems to be much more put together than you in this moment. you pout, looking at him as you move your hips in a circle, and james closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh. “tell me,” he whispers, hands roaming to your ass and pulling you harder onto him.

“want you,” you say, your voice a breathy whimper.

“yeah?” he asks, like he had no idea. his hips thrust up into yours and your eyes nearly roll back as you nod your head furiously.

“yeah,” you say, “wanna feel you in me.” and james can’t help the groan that leaves him, can’t help the way his cock twitches and threatens to explode his seed between the two of you.

you continue, wanting to get your point across that you needed him to fuck you now, “you played so good today. wanna make you feel good.” you ended your plea with another circle of your hips, leaning down to capture james’ bottom lip in your mouth. you bite down, not hard, just enough to leave indents in the sensitive skin, and you pull it back. you let go while you look into his eyes as you keep circling your hips. at this point, james is steadily meeting your thrusts, with a tight hold on your back side as he humps up into you. both of you are panting and you know you don’t need to do any further convincing.

“hands and knees,” james says and you waste no time getting in position, your panties are still on, so james sits on his knees behind you and you arch your back, pushing your ass towards him.

you feel a sharp smack against the flesh there, and you fall forward onto your elbows as you cry out. you turn your head to look back with a pout on your face as james slips his fingers under the waist band of your underwear and tugs them down your legs. you help him remove them all the way before he brings a hand back to your sopping cunt. he inserts his middle finger and you moan at the stretch. the sound it makes as he pumps his finger into you is obscene and you feel your cheeks heat up even more as you bury your face into james’ pillow. you feel lips meet the base of your spine as james places a sweet kiss there, and he starts sucking as he inserts another finger. it goes in without any resistance - you’re so turned on you could probably take his cock without needing his fingers first, but james is a sucker for foreplay and you can’t really say you mind at all.

“so fucking wet,” james whispers, and you think he’s talking more to himself than anything, eyes zoned in on how you cunt stretches around his thick fingers. and you are wet, soaking really; it’s running down your thighs and is covering james’ hand, and he fucking loves it.

you’re moaning loudly now, his fingers hitting the sensitive spot inside you that only he can reach; little ah, ah, ah’s leaving your mouth in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

suddenly they’re gone, and you’re whining loudly, but james just ignores you as he pumps his cock, spreading the wetness you left in his palm over himself before he lines it up with your fluttering pussy. “you want it, baby?” he taunts and you mewl, back arching because of course you want it.

you tell him this: “yes, please, fuck me.” the tears are back, threatening to spill as james runs his cock up and down your folds, hitting your clit and smirking as he watches your body jerk. he decides not to torture you more, decides you’ve been good, so he slowly pushes his cock inside, watching the way your pussy sucks him in.

“s’this what you wanted, baby?” he asks as he fills you completely, hips flush to your ass. you clench around his cock intentionally, hoping he takes that as an answer because you genuinely don’t think you can speak right now. your brain is mush and all you can focus on is the way his cock presses against your walls. you want him to move, to fuck you into his mattress so hard that your throat is raw from screaming and your hips are bruised from his tight grasp. you whine when he doesn’t move, and you push against him.

his right hand travels up your spine to grip the back of your neck, holding you down as his left wraps around your front to find your neglected clit. he still hasn’t moved, and your cunt keeps fluttering around him as he circles the sensitive bud.

“oh,” you gasp, and the hand on your neck is holding you down, his hips flush against you keep you from moving so you can’t do anything except feel the way his fingers circle your clit, the burning in your stomach growing tighter. “please,” you sob, the tears have fallen now, making a wet patch on james’ pillow as you try to move your hips.

and james finally takes pity on you, your cunt clenching incredibly tight around him and he can’t take it anymore. he leans back to grab your hips with both hands as he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in. your upper body shoots forward with the force of his thrust and your eyes shut tightly as you feel his cock reach the deepest parts of you. he doesn’t let up, continues the violent rhythm of fucking you into his mattress and it’s exactly what you wanted. it’s overwhelming, the pleasure, and you can’t do anything except moan loudly and hope that the music downstairs is loud enough to drown you out.

“love this fucking cunt,” james growls, eyes glued to the spot where he goes in and out. it’s dirty, and so fucking hot and he is so fucking close to cumming. “you know that?” he asks you, but how the fuck are you supposed to answer when the only thing leaving your mouth are sobs. you’re shaking again, legs weak as james mercilessly pounds into your soaking pussy.

“please,” you beg again. you need to cum; orgasm bubbling in your stomach as his cock repeatedly hits the sensitive spot inside you.

“wanna cum baby?” james speaks, his fingers finding your clit and toying with it once more. “gonna cum for me like a good girl, huh?”

and it’s the pet name that does it for you because yes you want to be a good girl for him, the best girl, and you cry out his name as you cum on his cock, whiny moans leaving your mouth because james doesn’t stop moving, still needs to chase his release. you can hear him panting, hear the sound of his hips slapping your ass with each thrust, and you tighten your core around him even more.

“oh fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back. his eyes are closed now, focusing on the way your cunt clenches around his cock. it’s wet and so warm and he’s almost there. “gonna cum,” he pants, “gonna cum in this tight fucking pussy.”

you moan again at how desperate he sounds, “please, please, please,” you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“shit,” james hisses, and then he’s cumming; spilling into you as his hips press flush against your ass. you moan at the feeling of it, squeezing his cock and milking him for all he’s worth.

james pulls out, collapsing on the bed beside you as you let your knees out from under you, laying on your stomach. the only sound in the room is your heavy breathing and the faint thumping of music from downstairs.

he turns on his side, putting his hand on your back to stroke up and down soothingly. you turn your head to face him, seeing that he’s put his glasses back on and you’re met with a cocky smile. “that was good, huh?” he asks, smirk wide as he winks at you.

you laugh, because duh, it was good, and you think james has a praise kink almost as much as you. instead of answering verbally, you lean over and plant a sweet kiss against his lips. he cups your face, running his thumb across your cheek as you pull back. “thanks for my surprise, baby,” he says quietly.

your eyes widen as you sit up, completely forgetting the treats you had brought for james from your room. “what? that wasn’t your surprise.”

you lean over the bed to find your pants and dig out the present you got for james. you set them in his lap as you get underneath the covers. “that’s your surprise.”

james is stunned, picks up the new candies he told you he discovered. “oh,” he says. “I thought hot sex was my surprise.” he’s blushing now, and you laugh softly as you lean forward and place a sweet peck on his cheek.

“the sex was a bonus,” you tease him, “but I wanted to get these for you because I remember you said you liked them. I know things have been hard lately with school and all, and I know this doesn’t really help or anything but -”

james cuts off your rambling as he grabs your head to bring your lips back down to his. his glasses bump your face and he smiles into the kiss, and you lean back to look at him.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “thank you for everything.”

you smile back, and you roll to lay on top of him again as you say, “I love you too.”

#james potter #james potter smut #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter x you #Harry Potter #harry potter smut #james potter imagine #james potter blurb #james potter one shot #james potter x y/n #smut #marauders smut #marauders fluff #marauders era fic #marauders #remus lupin #harry potter imagine

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archersxartxblog · 3 years ago

Text

chapter one Mater post

finally got this done. it's a little lighter then the last one. not as long.

Chapter 12

The rocks out by the hot springs really were his favorite spot in the whole of the icelands, Ingo decided as he took the moment to lie down on the large flat rock next to the springs. It was nice because it was warm, and yet the cold winds of the icelands kept it from being too much so. There also was no fear of drowning in the water below, though it was deep enough to sit, it was still very shallow and the Machokes that gathered around it were very nice.

Not to mention the steam that drifted off the water did absolute wonders to break up the congestion in his throat and lungs, making breathing much easier.

It had been three days since either he or Emmet had been able to get outside; neither of them well enough to venture past the door. Although Emmet had gotten better faster, the lucky Lillipup, his brother, had remained by his side. Which had been both nice and the worst thing ever, as his twin had refused to even let him get out of bed for two whole days and had spilled hot soup on him.

Now feeling well enough to go outside, the two had decided to split up for a bit, just to get a bit of space between them. Though he had promised Emmet he wouldn’t go anywhere his brother wouldn’t be able to find him.

So Ingo had journeyed up to the hot springs to try and just enjoy the fresh air, while his brother had got to play with a group of Bergmite that had wandered into the settlement.

The trip up to the hot springs had been mostly uneventful, with the only thing of note was that the other people seemed to be avoiding him. Had Ingo been interested in interacting with other people at that moment he might have been bothered by it, but it had only made the trip slightly easier; and meant he had the area to himself.

But it had still made him wonder.

It was strange. He didn’t think they had been in Hisui long enough to earn a reputation deserving of being avoided. Unless that was just a thing that happened with the kids of Wardens.

Ingo just shook his head, not allowing the thoughts to derail him any further.

So long as things didn’t get as bad as they did in Opelucid city trainer school, Ingo was pretty sure he could live with the other kids avoiding them. It would suck but at least he wouldn’t be chasing anyone down for hurting his brother.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouds casting warm rays down his way, making the area even more pleasantly relaxing. The Machoke seemed to agree with that thought as they sank deeper into the springs, leaning against the rocks as they soaked their muscles in the hot water and enjoying the shine of the sun on their faces.

“Choke Mach Ma macho?” one of the Machoke asked as they looked up at him, gently splashing the water in his direction.

“No thank you. But thank you for the offer though.” Ingo shook his head, politely declining the offer to join the pokemon in the springs. “I don’t have anything I could change into and dad wouldn’t be happy if I got sick again from walking home in wet clothes.”

“Ah! Mach Mach, Choke.” the pokemon gave him a nod of understanding and went back relaxing in the waters.

Ingo looked up towards the sky once more, seeing more of the blue sky starting to break through from the overcast sky. It looked like it was going to be a really nice day out. His hand reached towards his belt so he could unhook on to the pokeballs from it.

“Excuse me? Machokes?” Ingo called out once more to the pokemon in the spring, holding the pokeball out as they looked at him. There was someone else he knew who would enjoy this nice day, but after all that had happened he thought it would be best if he got permission first before he let her out. “I would like to let my partner out. She's a little fire ghost type and she hasn’t eaten in a while, so would it be okay if you shared some of your energy with her?”

“Machoke Choke Macho Choke!” the superpower pokemon answered, giving him a smile and a flex.

“Thank you!” permission now grained, Ingo quickly released Litwick out in front of him.

The red light faded and soon Litwick sat there now fully formed looking around, her little flame kept small as she looked up at him with worry filled eyes. She clearly still wasn’t over what had happened, and that broke the boy’s heart a little.

“It’s okay, these Machoke said it’s okay if you take from them.” he explained with the hope to quell her panic before it started to build. “Please, you have to eat something and I want you to enjoy the nice day with me.”

It was a solution to their problem as Machoke were known to have so much energy in their bodies that it could be dangerous for them if they didn’t constantly wear their belts, so it could be as good for them as it was for Litwick. At best this was a temporary solution to their problem, but at least now she could take as much as she needed and not have to worry about taking too much from him.

It should at least keep her going until Ingo finds a more permanent fix.

Slowly Litwick made her way towards the edge of the rock, leaning over to gaze down pokemon resting in the steamy water and calling out to them. “Litwi wick Lit?”

“Macho Macho.”

“Litwick!” Seeming satisfied with the answer she got, the little candle pokemon turned around with a smile on her waxy face as she made her way over to her trainer.

“Did-did you really think I lied to you?” Ingo stared at his partner, feigning a hurt tone in his voice; though he was slightly annoyed that she didn’t believe him right off the bat.

“Lit wick”

“Gee thanks, so glad my partner has so much faith in me.” he rolled his eyes, but laughed all the same; Litwick laughed as well.

Settling himself back down on the rock and closed his eyes, allowing Litwick to fuss over him in a way only a ghost Pokemon could.

Today was a lazy day, and he was planning on taking full advantage of it, as he felt that in the following days he and his brother would have to set out to help the settlement gather resources; while his dad was stuck once more in the Warden’s meeting. There was also the fact that he and Litwick would need to find time to train together on top of all that.

Ingo was pretty sure that both Litwick and Teddiursa were both so close to evolving, and though he wanted to find a better solution to this parasitic relationship thing before she evolved; it would drive Emmet crazy if one, if not two, of his Pokemon evolved first. They were currently tied with the number of pokemon they had. So long as you chose not to count what seemed to be an ever growing amount of Joltiks. Only one of them was in a Pokeball so the rest didn’t count.

Techally they could have started today with training since they were free, but after all the stress that had been caused on their first day back at the Pearl settlement; he just wanted to relax with his partner without risk to either of them.

A quiet settled over them, with the only real noise coming from the Machoke in the hot springs chatting amongst each other as they bathed. For a bit, Ingo actually thought he might actually fall asleep next to his partner Pokemon, the only thing keeping him from doing so was her little nubs probing at his soul through his face.

But when things are quiet for so long, the slightest noise becomes noticeable; and while he may not have lived his whole life in Hisui he had been living in the highlands for well over a month and half. He’d learned well enough to listen out for threats all around him. So naturally his eyes snapped open upon hearing the quiet crunching, he held completely still and waited for who or whatever it was to reveal themselves.

“Are you sure it's him?” a small voice whispered. “There’s another one down by the river playing with Bergmite. I can never tell which ones which.”

“I’m sure of it. It’s him. Ingo I think his name was Ingo, like his father the Warden” another voice answered, trying to keep low. “Then one by the river like Em something. I got a good look at them when they were battling that Alpha Abomasnow the other day.”

“Yeah, that was crazy! They were battling just like Warden Ingo does, but like it as if there were two of him!” a third spoke up, only to be hushed by the first for not keeping his voice down. “Sorry. But did you see that pulm of flame? I didn’t know a pokemon that small could do all that, I don’t think that Alpha could take another hit of that.”

From the sounds of it, it was just some kids from the settlement whispering amongst each other, as they headed this way. He buried his face in his arms, embarrassed about having eavesdropped on a conversation but at the same time, he felt his face go slightly red at the bit of praise he was getting from the other kids.

Did…Did they really like his battling style? Did they want him to show them? He could if they wanted him too.

“Yeah, he’s good with Pokemon. A Shame he’s blight on our settlement.”

If there had been a smile on his face, well it had been very quickly wiped away at that point as his heart seemed to drop.

A Blight…?

“Hey! Mama said you shouldn’t talk about him like that. Even if he is cursed, he’s still the eldest son of a Warden.”

Cursed?

“I heard his own pokemon almost killed him during that battle, eating his very soul. That the Almighty Sinnoh had to step in to save him.”

Slowly Ingo slid his way off the rock and quietly made his way over as the other kids spoke, leaving Litwick over by the hot springs while he tried to sort this out.

“I heard him up here earlier talking to Machoke like he understood them, and worse he still has that pokemon with him. Even said it was a ghost type. So whatever that curse is, it's twisting his soul into something else.”

Ingo paused in his step there, and tilted his head slightly. Was that so strange? To understand Pokemon?

He grew up around pokemon, and had been around them almost all this life. He may not know exactly what was being said but it wasn’t hard to get the jest. Pokemon has always been easier to read than people.

Maybe it was just different here.

“We shouldn’t let him touch us, or we might get cursed too.”

“My dad said that everyone is calling him Ingo the Cursed.”

“Who’s calling me Ingo the Cursed?” Ingo asked as he joined the small group of kids around his age, hardly noticing him until he spoke up. And when they did he was forced to flinch back from their screams; as they quickly backed away. “W-wait! I think we’ve become uncoupled. there might a huge-”

He reached out a hand holding to halt their retreat but they only screamed louder as they ran away, crying about how he was trying to curse them as well.

“Misunderstanding.” he finished letting his hand drop back to his side.

Well that didn’t go exactly as planned.

With a sigh, Ingo turned back around and started making his way back up to his perch; his mind going wild with what just happened.

What did they mean? He was cursed?

Had some ghost pokemon snuck into their tent at night and cursed him as a joke? That didn’t seem right, his dad’s Gliscor would have gone nuts if something had snuck in while everyone was asleep…unless it managed to get off a Hypnosis before it could react.

The second he sat back down Ingo started to pat himself down, feeling for any possible sore spots on his body that he somehow didn’t notice before. Even going so far as to lift his tunic and check his feet just encase he couldn’t feel it.

He’d been cursed before, and it had hurt like a Beedrill sting. He and Emmet had been playing Hide and Seek with a Banette in an old mansion hidden in the woods of Anville Town, but the solid ghost type had been a bit of a sore loser and Used Curse to make him yell out their location.

Poor Emmet had gotten his full volume at point blank range, but Ingo hadn’t been able to help it when his entire side lit up in pain.

The Shadow ball he got to the face from Litwick was derived.

Though that had nothing on the pain he felt when a Frillish used Hex on him to keep him from fighting back as it dragged him under the water.

So it made no sense that he didn’t feel anything if he was actually cursed, or that the other members of the Pearl clan would know before him. unless that stuff Warden Calaba made him drink was actually keeping him from feeling pain and there was like a mark on his face or something.

There was one last thing he could do to make sure he wasn’t being affected by a curse.

“Litwick.” he called out to his partner, lowering his hand down carefully for her to climb on. “The other kids say I’m cursed. I don’t feel anything, but would you mind checking for me just in case?”

The little ghost pokemon looked up at him with worried expression and gave a slight nod of her head, before climbing up into his hand.

Carefully he raised his arm and pressed the side of his hand to his chest. He did his best to stay as still as possible as she phased through his chest with her ghostly abilities; even though it felt like someone was holding an ice cube to his skin. It didn’t last long though as Litwick pulled her face from his body and called out to him so he knew she was done.

“Find anything?”

She looked up at him and shook her head, slightly baffled. “Litwick.”

“Nothing, Hm?” Ingo hummed as he set his partner down on the rock. “Then what in the name of the Origin Dragon do they mean when they called me Ingo the Cursed?” he sighed, throwing his arms in the air tiredly.

The only answer Litwick could give him was a slight shrug of her little nub arms, as she stared up at him worriedly. She didn’t know either, but then again he really didn’t expect her to.

Why were people so confusing sometimes?

“Maybe dad knows what this is all about. I should ask him when it’s time to head back.” he muttered as he closed his eyes in thought.

Despite not wanting to think overly hard on the whole thing, his mind continued to reel over what had happened; wanting to make some sense over this whole curse thing and what it could mean. The only thing he could even begin to think of that might make sense was if they meant it like some kind of Superstitious thing. Like the kind of curse one might get if they crossed a shiny Purrlion’s path.

But that just sounded silly to him.

He didn’t know anyone in Unova who believed in those kinds of Curses except old folks too set in their ways and athletes who believed that they could get good luck from not washing their clothes. Curses in Unova were just as real as ghost trains, and even then with how messed up the subway system was Ghost trains were more likely to be real.

People were willing to put faith in Legends as there was always some truth to them, but Curses?

Then again…this wasn’t Unova, he reminded himself, this was Hisui.

Maybe people here really believed in those kinds of things.

So did that mean that the whole settlement believed him to have some kind of curse?

What did that mean for him? How did he go about proving them wrong? It would just be a fight between his truth and their ideals, and Unovan history had proven that was never a fight that had any real winners.

Ingo had been so wrapped up in his own head that he had not heard the sound of footsteps approaching. His guard was down and his hunter far too stealthy for him to detect before she was right on top of him.

“Boo!” a voice shouted as a pair of hands grabbed him around the middle, ripping a scream out of him that he was pretty sure the whole settlement could hear.

Quickly he sprang to his feet and whipped around as the hands retracted, his face beat red with embarrassment at being caught so off guard, as he came face to face with a wheezing sixteen year old. “AKARI!” there was no control of his volume anymore and this only seemed to make the teen laugh harder. “STOP LAUGHING IT’S NOT FUNNY!” his voice was cracking several times with each word, making him sound ridiculous.

Meanwhile Akari was practically on the ground now laughing. “I’m sorry-” she wheezed, her lungs forcing her to make horrible noises because she was laughing so hard. “Your freaking voice cracks -wheeze- Oh My Arceus…I can barely breathe.”

Thoroughly annoyed and embarrassed, Ingo spun on his heel and slumped back down on the rock; crossing his arms over his chest. His face was still burning and it didn’t help that even the Machoke were laughing at him. “Good! I hope you pass out!” his voice was still loud but no longer able to reach the volume that it was before.

“Litwick Lit!” Litwick added for good measure, mimicking her trainer.

Akari’s fit of laughter soon started to calm down into slow giggles as she came up behind Ingo once more. “I’m sorry, Ingo!” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around him tightly in a hug, pressing her cheek against his. “But you were just thinking about something so hard, and you didn’t hear me coming…I could resist.” she rocked them both back and forth for a moment. “Can’t go making yourself a tasty treat like that out here. Some Pokemon might try and eat you up.” she teased.

He tried not to shiver as mind went back to that time an Alpha Luxray had him pinned and how big its teeth were when it hung over his face. “I’ll keep that in mind.” he didn’t even look at her.

This just made Akari chuckle once more. “Aw~ common Ingo, don’t be mad at me.” she gave him a squeeze. “If it makes you feel any better, my ears are still ringing. And here I thought your dad was loud.”

“Good, I hope they continue to do so for the rest of the day.” Ingo continued to pout, though he was starting to loosen up now that the blush was starting to ebb out of his face a bit; but he wasn’t willing to ease up on Akari just yet.

“Rude. then again it’s probably my fault for expecting a Whismur. I just didn’t think you could get that Loudred.” Akari just giggled as she poked his cheek in a teasing way.

“That’s…” the words died on his lips as he fought with himself slightly, for once glad for a naturally stiff face that did well to hide his struggle not to laugh. “Were those supposed to be puns? They weren’t even funny!”

It was just a shame that it was nearly impossible to hide such things with his voice, and Akari seemed to pick up on his mirth right away. “But you're still laughing at them.”

“Yeah, but you're still laughing.”

“I am, and I hate it.” Ingo finally just broke down and laughed. Akari knew his weakness and used it like any skilled trainer would a type advantage. Emmet would be disappointed in him but Elesa would be proud if she were here. But all and all it did make him feel a bit better not just about being spooked but the whole curse thing as well, hitting a cross-stitch and taking his mind down a different track entirely.

Ingo let out a content sigh, as Akari let him go. Moving instead to sit next to him as she dug through her bag.

“So…” Akari spoke again, as she paused in her digging to look over at him. “What were you thinking about so hard that I managed to sneak up on you?” She turned towards him fully with one eyebrow raised.

And just like that he was back on those rails, just like before, the whole thing sounded silly to him; like this wasn’t something he should be letting himself get worked up over. And definitely not something he needed to bother Akari with.

It would blow over…right?

“It’s nothing, just something the other kids were saying.” Ingo just shrugged his shoulders trying to write this off.

It was nothing.

Ingo watched as Akari’s amused smile fell away and brows knitted together. “What did they say?”

He just looked away and shook his head. No point in worrying Akari over stuff like this, she had other things to worry about. “It’s nothing. Really.” he tried to reassure her with a smile but he wasn’t sure if it showed. “I just kind of get caught up in my own head about things. Guess that’s why I need Emmet around.”

For a moment Akari seemed unsure as she stared at him, until finally a tired smile spread across her face. “Well then, let's go find your brother before you end up with a thousand mile stare just like your dad.” she just laughed and ruffled his hair, causing it to fall in his face slightly. “But before we do that… WHAMP!”

Something was suddenly slapped onto his head, and pulled down over his eyes. Carefully Ingo reached up and took the brim, pulling it free of his head so that he could look over it.

It was a hat. A simple black flat cap with red stitching along the side. Slightly confused he looked back over to Akari for an explanation but teen smile gave him a toothy grin.

“Some of the villagers back at Jubilife were whining about not being able to tell you two apart, so like always I decided to fix their problem.” She laughed and gave him a small shrug of his shoulders. “Black for you and White for Emmet. I was going to try and get you guys hats like your dad, but I’d have to get his hat from him and trying to wrestle a Ursaluna is easier than trying to get your dad’s hat off of him.”

“Y-you didn’t have to do that.” Ingo muttered, hat still in his hands.

But Akari just shrugged. “I know, but I did anyway. Besides, now you two can’t use the excuse that the sun was in your eyes when I beat you in battle!”

“That would require you to actually beat us in battle.”

“Why you-” the Hat was snatched from his fingers, only for Akari to smack him with it before slapping it back onto his head so that it once more covered his eyes. “Now common, let's go find your brother so find your brother so I can beat you twerps in a Pokemon battle.”

“You mean you're going to ‘Try’ to beat us twerps in a Pokemon battle.”

“I liked it better when you were shy and didn’t talk.”

—

“Emmet!”

Emmet looked up as he heard his name being called, and his smile spread wider as he saw his brother and Akari approaching him.

He had a surprise for Ingo. a verrrry good one!

“I am Emmet!” the younger twin smiled, waving over towards his brother, noticing his brother was wearing a black flat cap and carrying a white one in his hand. “Was your time at the Hot spring enjoyable, brother?” he asked, honestly hoping that this twin had been able to chase away the remaining of the cold that had plagued him for days.

But his smile dropped some when his brother didn’t answer right away, glancing behind him at the settlement before looking back at Emmet. “Oh, um. Yeah! It was great.”

Ingo might have been able to get away with it with Akari but Emmet knew right away his twin was not being truthful, not completely at least. He could see it written on his brother’s face. something had happened and it had nothing to do with the scream he had heard a few moments ago; otherwise he would have looked at Akari and not the settlement behind him.

Ingo was a horrible liar after all.

“What about the Bergmites? Did they all move on?” His brother instead just changed the topic, glancing around the area for the group of Ice Chuck Pokemon.

“Yes, they all left five minutes ago.” Emmet answered not wanting to call his twin out on the lie while in front of Akari. He would ask Ingo about it when they were alone. “I wanted to catch one. But I haven’t had time to make a pokeball.”

It had been a real shame, as he managed to befriend a rather oddly coloured on amongst the group that had come by only to realize that he still didn’t have a pokeball on him. Having an ice type on his team would have really made for interesting battles and would have given him a type advantage over Ingo’s Gible. But sadly he had to let them go.

“Well that’s unfortunate. We really need to make sure that we’re better prepared next time. Or we’ll end up missing out on more pokemon like this.” Ingo sighed as he voiced the disappointment that Emmet had felt at the time.

The Younger twin had no doubt that once they were able to get some more Pokeballs his brother would set out with him to find the Bergmite once more. Even if it meant that Emmet would be one pokemon ahead of Ingo.

But there would be time for that later.

“But something good did happen. Verrrry Good. Yep.” Emmet was practically vibrating as he held the pokeball tightly in his head. Unable to contain himself any longer he tossed the ball to the ground, his eyes locking onto his brother wanting to see the reaction as the pokemon started to form.

To anyone else, Ingo’s face remains the same frown the entire time. But Emmet sees every change in emotion as his brother watches the pokemon form.

The slight widening of his eyes as he was shocked by the pokemon being released.

The slight slacking on the jaw as he realized what he was looking at.

The small downward pull of his lips and twitch of the eye was a small show of annoyance and maybe even envy; that Emmet just wanted to savor.

And all finished off with the slight happy upturn of his eyes and twitch of his cheek in Ingo’s own form of a smile.

“Bravo! Emmet! Tynamo Evolved into Eelektrik!” Ingo clapped for him, the happiness and joy in his voice unable to hide the unspoken cursing in his tone. And Emmet loved every bit of it. “I honestly thought I was going to beat with this, I was so sure Teddiursa was going to evolve first.”

“Eel!”

“Whoa! Are you saying that this used to be Tynamo?” Akari hummed as she leaned in towards the now much larger eel pokemon. “It looks totally different now.” a smile started to spread across the teens face as she turned towards the twins pulling a Pokeball from his bag. “This calls for a celebration and what better way to celebrate a pokemon evolving then with a battle!”

“She’s hoping to be able to beat us this time around.” Ingo laughed as he walked over to stand by his brother, handing Emmet the white cap he’d been holding on to. “But I think we’ll be the ones to decide on her next destination.”

“I am Emmet. I hope she plans to take this seriously this time. Because if a battle is not serious. Then it is not fun.” Emmet recalled Eelektrik, attaching his ace’s pokeball back to his belt.

The younger twin just grinned noticing the tension in his brother had disappeared, whatever it was bothering him long forgotten.

And once Emmet found out what it was, he’d make sure it stayed that way.

Because just like in Pokemon battles they supported each other and covered for each other's weaknesses.

#warden's twins #submas #pokemon au #subway bosses as kids #subway boss ingo #subway bosses #warden ingo #au #subway boss emmet #ingo and emmet #pokemon akari #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader

Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.

Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention

Masterlist

Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.

Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.

“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.

“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.

Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”

“And why the fuck not?”

Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”

Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”

“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”

“Well that sounds rather exciting.”

“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.

“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”

Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.

“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.

“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.

Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”

Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”

“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.

“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.

“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.

——

“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.

“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.

Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.

Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”

——

“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.

“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.

The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.”

After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.

“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.

No, stop thinking about him.

“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”

Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.

It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.

“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.

He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.

Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.

“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.

Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”

Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.

“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.

“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”

Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.

“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”

“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”

“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.

Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.

“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.

“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”

Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”

Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.

Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.

Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”

Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.

“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.

Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.

Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”

Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”

Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.

Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.

He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.

Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”

“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.

Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.

“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.

Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”

Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.

“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”

Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.

“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies.

Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.

Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.

Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.

“Nandor!”

Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.

With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”

“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.

“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.

“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.

Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.

“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”

You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.

Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.

Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”

#I love me some himbo vampire what can I say #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #Nandor #Nandor x reader #nandor x you #nandor x y/n #wwdits #what we do in the shadows x reader #fanfiction #my fanfic

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taetaespeaches · 5 years ago

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“I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.1K

a/n: ok, so, Kid is ready to give Yoon that good good just after hearing like half the mixtape, our girl hasn’t even seen the damn mv yet guys, like, she’s ready to pounce after just seven songs from her man. And honestly, mood. I hope you lovelies enjoy this, I hope it lives up to your expectations lmao, and thank you for reading :))

YOU paced back and forth from one end of your kitchen to the other as you waited for Yoongi to answer his damn phone. I mean, seriously, how long does it take to pick up the-

“Hello?” Yoongi’s low voice interrupted your thoughts through the phone’s speaker.

Gasping, you eagerly asked, “Can I start listening?” omitting a proper greeting.

“Oh hey, I’m fine, how are you?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware he couldn’t see you. “You’re expecting a lot of self-control from me right now, Min,” you complained.

Yoongi allowed himself to chuckle before responding with a humored, “if you want, you can listen, Kid.”

You squealed in excitement, bouncing around in front of the oven. “You’re sure? I don’t have to wait for you or anything?”

“Nah, I’m almost there anyway,” he told you, and you could tell by the tone of his voice he was grinning. “Just no music video yet,” he said in a whiny tone which you knew must be accompanied with a pout. He enjoyed watching your reaction to his music videos.

“No music video, I promise,” you smiled, absolutely fond of the man. “Oh my god, I’m not ready for this am I?” You yelled out, Yoongi scoffing in response.

“Jesus, you’re ridiculous,” he groaned.

“Shush, I’m hanging up, I have a long-awaited mixtape to listen to, thank you very much.”

“Ok fine, fine,” he laughed, but before you could hang up, Yoongi added, “Hey, Kid?” You hummed in response. “Love you.”

You’ve heard the words a million times, but it never failed to make your heart pound. However, that didn’t stop you from teasing him a bit. “Yeah, yeah, love you, I gotta go, priorities, baby. I don’t know if you’ve heard but the Agust D just made a comeback.”

He chuckled into the phone once more before giving you a, “See you in a bit,” and then hung up.

Immediately, you were pressing play on the mixtape on Spotify, already having had it pulled up for five minutes.

The first song, ‘Moonlight’, started off soft before scratching records came in, and then your boyfriend’s voice. When he gave his iconic laugh with an “August D” you smiled in pride. That’s my honey boy.

You turned your attention to the meal you were preparing for you and Yoongi, one of his favorites, stirring the contents in a big pot on the stovetop. Bopping along to the music, you listened to the lyrics that talked about his story, starting in Daegu to flying high with his group, how he goes through feelings of confidence in his work to feeling untalented, the struggles of writing this exact mixtape due to the pressure from a larger audience, expectations, and self-doubt. You knew those struggles all too well. You were with him throughout it all.

You’d been given glimpses of the songs throughout the writing process, some tracks in full while others you only saw lyric scribblings on those yellow notepads he leaves around his studio and that littered your apartment. You first saw the chorus to ‘Moonlight’ written on one of those notepads that sat on your bedside table.

“I like this,” you told your boyfriend, holding the notepad in one hand as the other found its way in his dampened hair, his face resting against your bare chest.

“Huh?” He looked up at you, his hand gripping your waist as his eyelids fluttered. The sheets were in disarray around your still nude forms. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, is it for D-2?”

“Maybe,” he told you with a yawn. “Not sure.”

“I think you should use it,” you told him, your finger outlining the shell of his ear as his lips curved into a lazy smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“You really think so?” He asked, uncertain and a bit more awake.

“Yeah, definitely.”

He kissed the center of your chest before nuzzling his face further against your breasts. “You always know best, Kid.”

You felt your eyes prick with tears as you listened to the song, feeling immensely proud of your boyfriend. Of how hard he worked, of overcoming the doubt and fear, and just simply for the talent, passion, and artistry he shared with so many people.

As the mixtape played, you went through phases of dancing around, squealing in excitement, gasping at lyrics and phrasing, and more bouncing and dancing. You tried your best to focus on the lyrics, though you knew it would take a few listens to catch them all as you were too excited to comprehend everything just then.

Completely invested in the music, you didn’t hear your front door open, unaware of your boyfriend’s presence until he appeared in your peripheral, catching you doing a little strut that resembled Yoongi’s swagger walk he did on stage. Your head snapping to him, you were met with his gummy grin, his shoulders shaking in laughter as ‘Burn It’ continued to play throughout the kitchen.

“Are you leaving me for Agust D yet?” He teased, walking toward you.

“Do you realize how sexy you are? Like do you have any idea?” You asked accusatorily. “Like what the fuck, dude?”

“Jesus,” he huffed, a smile still plastered on his face. “You’re actually ridiculous.”

“Yeah, and you’re ridiculously talented, Min. You’re not told that enough,” you told him seriously. Reaching you, he placed his hands on your hips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, stepping further into his arms.

“I’m told that plenty,” he dismissed with a bashful grin.

“No, you’re not,” you told him as ‘Burn It’ continued to play. Instead of responding to you, he kissed you which you immediately deepened, Yoongi stepping back a bit by the unexpected force behind your actions, though his arms wrapped tighter around your waist so your body was flush with his.

Pulling away, he chased your lips, making you smile. “I don’t even have the words right now to tell you how proud I am of you,” you told him seriously, tears forming in your eyes. You watched as Yoongi took a deep breath, keeping his own emotions under control at your sincere confession. “Just know I’m really proud,” you said as tears threatened to fall.

He quickly nodded just before bringing a hand to your jaw as he caught your lips again, giving you several quick pecks as he composed himself.

Letting out a breath that sounded to be one of relief, Yoongi peered around your frame, inspecting the food cooking on the stove, as well as the food that had spilled outside of the pot, with a grin. “That looks good.”

“Hopefully,” you said with a smile as Yoongi nuzzled his face against your neck, refusing to let you go. With the overwhelming pride and love you felt, mixed with the fact that the man on the mixtape was all yours, and he was standing in your kitchen, in your arms, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you had a sudden desire for him.

As ‘People’ started playing, you were instantly struck with the memory of coming to his studio as he was working on that very track. It was just the instrumental then, but it was interesting and different from the other stuff he had been working on. Yoongi must have been thinking upon the same memory as he lifted his head, a gummy grin directed to you as his eyes found yours.

“I remember the night you wrote this,” you smiled, biting your lower lip. That night, you had spent about an hour of it sitting on his desk as Yoongi sat in his chair in front of you, his chin resting on your knees as you both discussed your ideas of life, and people, and changes, and what it all meant, if it even meant anything.

You had already been dating for well over a year, but it was a moment where you and Yoongi felt a closeness between you both that hadn’t really been there before, becoming more mentally and emotionally attune with each other.

The conversation eventually faded out, the intense feeling of understanding between you both leading to you having sex on his studio couch.

“Trust me, I remember it very well,” he chuckled, his mind running through every moment of that night, from the feeling of closeness, to the warmth of your body underneath his as he pressed you against the couch cushions, the way you moaned his name and whispered ‘I love you’s’.

As the chorus of ‘People’ sounded from your laptop, your eyes widened at the sultry soothe of your boyfriend’s vocals.

“Since when do you sing like that, Min?” You teased with a smile, your eyes bouncing around his soft features. As he let out a breathy chuckle, you slid your your hands down his neck to rest overtop his collarbones as you leaned toward him and kissed him deeply.

The action took him by surprise though he easily found his rhythm, his hands slipping underneath your shirt, feeling at the bare skin of your waist.

As you began backing up, he quickly felt around to shut the stove off before following you toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Your hands found his waist as his moved to your face, taking control. You began lifting his shirt up, you both separating just long enough for you to pull it over his head and discard it somewhere in the hallway outside your room.

Eagerly, you unbuttoned his jeans, Yoongi helping you get the clothing off him as he released his hold on you to step out of them. Backing up, your legs hit the edge of the bed and you locked your eyes with your boyfriend’s. Smirking at him, you pulled your own shirt off before unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.

Yoongi bit his lip, his eyes settling on your chest before slowly dragging them back up to meet your darkened gaze. Tilting his head at you, you quipped, “What are you waiting for?” Yoongi scoffed before approaching you and pushing your body so you fell against the mattress. He reached for the waist of your jeans, taking no time in unzipping them and tugging them down your legs, you lifting your hips to help him. Your panties were removed next, Yoongi dropping them to floor as he allowed his eyes to rake over your body, taking in every inch of you.

You sat up on your elbows, watching the man as he looked over your nude form. “For a man who brags an awful lot about being a king and a boss, you seem a bit timid, baby,” you teased in a sultry tone.

Your boyfriend scoffed again, a smirk forming on his lips. “Be patient,” he scolded, though he stepped toward you, nudging your inner knee with his leg, making you widen the gap between your thighs as he stared down at your center.

“My patience disappeared the moment I clicked play on that mixtape,” you smiled. “I want you.” With that, you sat up, your hands slipping underneath the waistband of his underwear, lowering them until they easily slid down his legs, pooling at his feet. You kept eye contact with him as you left a sweet kiss to his lower abdomen, just above his pelvic area.

He let out a quick breath as he smiled, lowering his body on top of yours, your back meeting the mattress. “If I had known Agust D would get you this worked up I would have released a mixtape two years ago,” he joked, your hands grabbing onto his sides as his lips found yours, kissing you passionately.

One of his arms was being used to prop himself up overtop you as his opposite hand slid down to your core, his fingers feeling between your legs. He groaned into your mouth at feeling how wet you’d become, and you smiled against his lips.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you used your strength to push against his body, rolling him over and straddling his hips. Yoongi’s breath was heavy and shallow as he anticipated being inside you, his large hands gripping your hips, his eyes eagerly taking in the sight of your form on top of him. He always did love you on top.

Placing one of your hands to his chest, your other found his hardened length. You stroked him a few times, Yoongi letting out a soft moan at the feeling, his hand sliding up your abdomen to your breast as he squeezed the supple flesh in his palm. At his touch, you guided him to your entrance, sharply intaking breath at the feeling of him slipping inside, letting the air out in a throaty moan.

“Fuck, Kid,” Yoongi breathed out, pinching your nipple between his fingers as you moved your hand from his dick to his chest, bracing yourself against him as you began slowly grinding atop him. Yoongi’s hand left your breast to your thigh, clutching the muscle as he bit his lip, watching your body move. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You held back a moan as you increased your pace, looking up to the ceiling before squeezing your eyes shut as he hit particularly deep. “Fuck,” you breathed out, lowering your gaze to Yoongi’s face, meeting his hooded eyes as he looked up at you in bliss.

His chest was like velvet underneath your hands and you wanted to feel more of his skin on yours. As if reading your mind, Yoongi moved his hands to your lower back, pulling you toward him so your chest was flush with his. He kissed you messily as he lifted his hips off the bed to move in and out of you as he held you to his body.

“I love you so much,” he confessed shakily against your lips, his breathing erratic due to the pleasure you were giving him.

“Oh my god, Yoongi, I love you,” you moaned, moving your face to his neck where you kissed and nibbled his skin lightly.

Wanting to treat him, you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him, sitting back up as you rocked back and forth on him, arching your back and placing a hand to his thigh to support yourself. Yoongi’s hands grabbed onto the sides of your legs as he watched you, looking more and more fucked out the longer you rode him.

Eyeing his thin but toned body, his smooth skin, and the flex of his abdomen as he took sharp breaths, you groaned. “You look so good,” you told him, admiring the man beneath you. Your man. All yours. “Feel so good,” you moaned.

One of Yoongi’s hands left your leg to find your hand that was pressed against his lower abdomen. He took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours before bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly as he locked his gaze on yours.

The intimate action had your lower abdomen tightening. Sitting up straight, you brought your hand toward him which he grabbed with his other hand, helping you to support yourself as your motions atop him became hastier, approaching your high.

“Yoon, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby,” he nodded, squeezing your hands as you neared your climax. “Me too.”

You let out a whimper, lowering your body to Yoongi’s again, your dewy chest meeting his, Yoongi wrapping his arms around your lower back as you both worked each other into your finishes. Yoongi buried his face in your neck as he let out small muffled grunts, you breathing out a moan in his ear. As he came, he hugged your body to his tightly, letting go inside you. The feeling of him releasing had you crashing into your own high, biting your lip as you moaned breathily, Yoongi kissing your neck sweetly as you came down.

You relaxed atop Yoongi, breathing heavy as his fingers toyed with the small of your back, soothing back and forth along the curve of your ass. You had a hand on his neck, slipping your fingers into his damp strands, your other hand on his chest, dragging your fingers along his pectoral.

“The mixtape is really good,” you assured him in a whisper, kissing his jaw. “Well, what I’ve heard so far.”

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle, flattening a palm on your lower back. “Thank you, Kid.”

“No need to thank me, I’m just being honest.”

“No, thank you for always supporting me. In everything,” he clarified, emotion thick in his voice.

You lifted your head to peer at his face, catching the glassy shine in his eyes. “Always,” you assured him.

He nodded, looking at you with a soft smile. “I know,” he whispered, barely audible, giving away that he didn’t trust his voice, knowing it would break if he spoke louder. “It means- you mean the world.”

You lowered your lips to his face, giving his plush cheek a small kiss. “I never would’ve thought Agust D would be so soft after sex,” you teased with a big smile, Yoongi scoffing, though he couldn’t hold back his gummy grin.

He groaned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m starving,” he changed the topic, making you giggle.

“Well, lucky for you, your girlfriend made you a delicious nearly cooked meal that is probably very cold at this point,” you smirked.

“Oh, lucky for me?” He questioned with a small smile.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed with a small chuckle.

Yoongi sucked air between his teeth, ticking his head to the side. “Remind me to wife you up later.”

You scoffed playfully, rolling off his body as you prepared to stand up and find some clothes. “In your dreams, Min.”

Scooping your t-shirt off the floor, you slipped it over your head before grabbing a pair of panties from your dresser drawer, all while Yoongi’s eyes followed your every move. Sending your boyfriend an air kiss from where he sat at the edge of the bed watching you, you walked toward the bedroom door. “Hurry up and get dressed, Gramps, I need your album commentary.”

You exited the room, turning toward the bathroom to clean yourself up. Yoongi shook his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, in my dreams,” he mumbled as he stood up to get dressed. Taking his sweet ass time, you walked back past the bedroom toward the kitchen, noticing him still stumbling around for a shirt.

“Hey, hustle, Min! I still have a music video to watch, my dude!” You called out to him as he looked to you with widened eyes. “Your shirt is out here, by the way.”

“Ah, what did I tell you about patience,” he whined out, a pout on his lips as he walked through the hallway, grabbing his shirt on his way, feeling full of appreciation and adoration for you.

4K notes · View notes

toorusluvr · 4 years ago

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ALL I NEED: SUNA RINTAROU.

characters: suna rintarou x f!reader

a/n: I recommend listening to Lloyd - All I Need (preferably the slowed reverb ver because I'm a sucker for it) while reading this and Chase Atlantic - Right Here. Also, slight angst at the end. I'm sorry!!

cw: slight degradation + unprotected + slight overstim/edging + slight bratty reader + vaginal penetration + cunnilingus

wc: 4k

crossposted on my ao3 🤍

Listening to the music at 3 in the morning while driving on the empty road has never felt so boring in your life. You had just come back from a little getaway with your friends at the club. And now you're on your way to someone's apartment that asked you to meet up.

The person you'll be meeting in a second had asked you to come over. You let out a sigh while glancing over your rear side mirror. Suna hasn't contacted you for the last two weeks, and just now, he texted you he wanted to meet up. At three in the fucking morning, you grunted softly and smacked your steering wheel using both of your hands in frustration. You wanted to avoid him for some reasons, but you just couldn't.

Suna gave you the access card to his apartment he's living in. You took the card in your wallet and scanned it through the main entrance of the building. The elevator felt so fast, maybe because no one else other than you were using it at this hour. You took a deep breath before walking through the empty hallway finding his house.

He heard the door clicked open from outside. Suna hurriedly put on a simple black t-shirt and walked over to the living room to welcome you, even though he wasn't used to it. "You came" he cleared his throat as he eyed you from head to toe. You looked stunning in the black bodycon dress, he thought. But, the frowny look you were giving him may have annoyed him.

"Of course, I came. You asked me to come, didn't you?" you jeered. You threw your purse over the couch and plopped down on the soft cushion. You crossed your legs and stared at Suna standing across you while holding a glass of wine with his torso leaning against the couch. "Aren't you going to say something? The silence is too damn loud."

You were furious for no solid reason. Suna just.. infuriated you in ways you couldn't imagine. Maybe, just maybe, it's because of your resentment towards him that you chose to bottle up inside instead of saying it to his face. God, you've never felt so conflicted in your life dealing with the pro-volleyball athlete, Suna Rintarou. His popularity is rising, and he's been busier ever since the Olympics, sparing no time for you at all.

Even though you guys are practically friends with benefits, not catching feelings with him sounds almost too impossible.

Suna let out a soft chuckle and gave you a deep stare. "Why are you so furious tonight, hm? Are you mad that I asked you to come over at 3 in the fucking morning? You had just come back from meeting with your friends, right? So it isn't a problem but meeting me is?" He walked over to the kitchen area and placed his wine glass on the countertop.

"Answer me. You said yourself that the silence is too damn loud, didn't you?" Suna repeated his questions and sat across the sofa you were sitting. His eyes trailed your movements from sitting lazily to sitting upright.

You let out a scoff and looked over to your side. "Wow. Do you really want to start a fight, Suna? Really? Was the reason you asked me to come over so you could just say shit to my face, fuck me, and pretend nothing ever happened? Was that the reason why, Rintarou?" Your cheeks felt hot after spouting out nonsense. No, it's not just any nonsense. It seems pretty logical, in your opinion.

Suna furrowed his eyebrows. His mind was trying to process your words just now. He didn't get why you were so mad at him right now. "Isn't that what you are?" he said flatly. Shit, he didn't mean that. He walked over to you and pulled you to stand up. His eyes looked down on you before he cupped your face with his large palm. "Why are you being such a fucking brat today?"

You avoided making any eye contact with him. You swatted his hand away and slowly massaged your jaw. Suna stared at you with his cold stare. His stare could kill, and that scared you even more. Before you moved, you felt a weight hovered on top of you as you fell down on the long couch. Suna held your chin and made you looked at him in the eyes. "Tell me, you whore."

"You have no right-" before you could even finish your sentence, Suna crashed his lips on yours. His slender fingers grazing over your soft skin while his thumb caressed your jawline. You struggled to get him off of you, but he wouldn't move. Instead, he pinned your body down on the couch. He placed his thighs on either side of your body.

His rough hands caressing your exposed arms. The dimmed lights in Suna's living room still reflected his perfect facial features. The sweet taste from his wine earlier lingered in your mouth as he twirled his tongue with yours. His hand squeezing your throat lightly before breaking the kiss. He stopped to look at your face, "Do you really think you can overpower me like that?"

You rolled your eyes with annoyance. "Get off of me, idiot," you groaned and tried to push him away.

He pinned your wrists above your head. "Do.Not.Move," he said sternly. He removed your thin straps and slid them off of your arms before undressing you completely. You were at a loss of words when he kissed you again. "Mmph-" you grunted softly when he nipped on your neck. You were sure he left you a hickey there. A deep purple one. "Good luck hiding that hickey I gave you," Suna tapped your cheek with his fingers.

Your dress was thrown on the expensive marble floor. Suna fondled your clothed breasts as his lips nibbling on the valley of your breasts. He then nudged your legs with his knee. His free hand reaching to the back of your band to unhook your bra. You arched your back to let him took them off of you. Suna threw your lace bra on the ground.

Your nipples grew perkier in the exposed cold air. Suna then latched his lips on your hardened nipples before he started sucking on it. "Eyes on me, whore", you heard him growled. He bit on the right nipple that caused you to shriek in pain. "Does that hurt? Poor baby, don't even get to talk" he mocked you intentionally. You heard him let out a sinister chuckle before he teasingly twirled your hardened nipples with his fingers.

His rough hands massaged your breasts while his tongue played with your nipples. Your soft whimpers sounded so beautiful to him. "S-suna," you tried to drown your moans but failed miserably. "Fuck..." you threw your head back when you felt his hands travelled to your naked thighs.

Suna trailed his fingers over your inner thighs before placing two fingers on your dampened panties. "I haven't done anything to you, yet you're this wet. How are you going to resist me, baby? Hm? With that bratty attitude? Do you think you can ever win over me?" He sucked on your inner thighs, leaving a deep purple mark on your soft flesh.

"Suna, not there," you hissed. It's almost summertime, and you don't want to go out wearing long pants or regular shorts, all because of a fucking hickey.

Suna glared at you and tilted his face. He stared at you in disbelief. "'Do you really think I'm going to listen to you? I can do whatever I want, right? Don't you agree?" His possessiveness can be fatal sometimes. At least to you. Something about possessive Suna makes you be on your knees in an instant. Toxic, isn't it? But who the hell cares when it's only the both of you know what's going on?

You heaved out a deep breath, slightly feeling annoyed with his words. Suna's stunning facial features popped in front of your face. His minty breath fanned over your lips, "Answer me, whore." He demanded while roughly cupped your cheeks in his hand. Suna squeezed your cheeks before tapping them lightly.

Suna's fingers tugged on the waistband of your panties, teasing you even more. You felt self-conscious of your body all of a sudden. But, Suna wouldn't let your cries or pleas interrupt him. "Do you know that you are beautiful than any other woman I have met?" You heard him said, breaking the silent atmosphere. You eyed him in between your legs. Suna's sharp gaze staring straight into your soul, patiently waiting for your response.

"Wh-what?" you asked in confusion. You didn't hear him wrong, right? You were so sure he said you are beautiful than any other woman he has met. Crazy. He never said any of this before. What has gotten into him tonight?

"Forget it," he said sternly. His fingers tugging on the waistband of your underwear and slid them off your legs. His hands gripped your thighs firmly before spreading it wider for him. You felt his minty breath fanned over your inner thighs before shifting his focus to your slick folds.

He dragged two of his fingers on your slick folds before collecting your sweet juices in his mouth. Suna's grip on you was strong that he had you pinned down on the couch the whole time. You could feel his hold was bruising that may last for days. Surprisingly, Suna's strong even though his physique may not seem like it. He's a pro-volleyball athlete. What do you expect?

Suna licked your slick folds in up and down motion. It was a slow drag from up and down your wet muscle. Your neglected clit was begging to be touched by him, but Suna thought, not yet. You don't deserve to come so fast, especially after that tantrum you threw just now. Suna smirked upon seeing you tugging on his hair, begging for more and more through that pretty little mouth of yours.

"Rin.." you cried for his name. You felt he dipped his tongue deeper into your core while holding your legs wide open for his and his pleasure only. Suna found it pleasurable to savour your taste in which you can't do on your own. He let out a soft scoff when you tried to push his head further on your cunt.

"You are really that desperate, huh?" his voice rumbled against your entrance.

You nodded. "Please, Suna," you pleaded. You swore to your life, every time you have sex with this man, it's always going to be a moment of pleasure. Suna's quite good at pleasuring his partner first, unlike the other guys you have hooked up with. The only thing lacking with this man is his way of showing his emotions. He's emotionally unavailable at times, to simply put.

Suna used his middle and ring finger to rub circles on your neglected clit. He smiled a little when he suddenly remembered his first time having sex with you. You were almost innocent. Maybe you didn't have experiences back then. He rubbed circles on your clit, switching to his tongue a second after. He sucked on your clit with a gentle nip.

Soft pleas and whimpers came out of your mouth non-stop. "S-suna, please. I need your cock" you begged. Suna won't listen to your pleas. So, he continued licking and teasing your puffy clit, overstimulating you endlessly. When you were so close, he denied it. "Not yet, baby" he placed a kiss on your sensitive clit. Your hips bucked forward when he did so.

Suna replaced his tongue with his slender fingers. His two digits stretching your gummy walls. Slowly, he dragged his fingers in your gummy walls with his thumb circling on your clit. Suna watched how your body reacted to his touch. He loves the way your face washes with pleasure every time he touches you.

You tried gripping his wrist, but he swatted your hands away. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop moving, hm? Do you need me to tie you up so you can't move?" Suna threatened you.

You gulped. "No. No," you replied. You were scared, terrified even when his demeanour changed. He can be unpredictable at times. Suna smiled at you, "Good girl." He buried his face in between your legs, savouring the taste of your sweet juices. He could go on and on for hours. Your fingers caressing Suna's soft brown locks while your palm rested on the back of his neck comfortably.

He lifted your hips up before he undid the drawstring of his sweatpants. Suna slid his sweatpants off his legs and threw it on the floor, together with your dress he threw earlier. You watched his cock sprang free after taking off his briefs.

Suna hovered on top of you and trailed kisses over your valley of breasts, all the way to your lips. He locked his lips with yours while his fingers tried finding yours and clasped them together just above your head. You moaned in between the kisses as he grinded on you. The size of his cock never ceases to amaze you. Suna broke the kiss and moved to spit on his hand to pump his hardened cock.

He teasingly glided his cock in an up and down motion in your slick folds. His eyes lighted up, hearing the squelch noises that you made. "You're so fucking wet. Are you seeing this, slut?" he collected your juices with his cock. Even just the slightest move made you whimpered.

Without any warnings, he slid his thick cock inside your pussy. He bit his lower lip to suppress his moans. He was so near to coming when your tight walls clamped around his cock. It's been a while since he's sexually active, and your pussy always makes him feel like it's the first time. Suna didn't give you time to adjust and just slammed his hips into you.

You shrieked in pain when the stretch burnt. "Slow down, please..." you writhed pitifully. Suna likes it rough, and both of you know that. Like it or not, you'll always limp the next day.

He smirked. Slow down? No, baby. He's only going to do it harder. He gripped your waists firmly while fucking your cunt. Suna let out a staggered moan when he felt he's close, but he held it back for the sake of your own pleasure. He will never come until you come. Since he was planning to overstimulate you, he'd have to sacrifice his own pleasure too.

"You're so fucking tight, baby," he grunted through his teeth. His suppressed moans sounded beautiful in your ears. You watched Suna's forehead started to form beads of sweat. His lips slightly parted, with soft whimpers coming out of his mouth. "Fuuck.." he threw his head back. His cock never once stopping drilling your cunt like there's no tomorrow.

You felt a familiar knot started forming in your lower core. When the pleasure reached its highest peak, your breath got heavier. "Su-suna! I'm so close!" you whimpered. Your nails digging into the soft skin of his strong biceps while you tried to get a grip of yourself. The climax was soon approaching, but Suna just kept on rocking his hips forward.

"Come for me, baby," you heard him panted. Maybe it's been a while that he had lost control of controlling his climax. The way your pussy sucked his cock made him lost his mind for a second. He gave in to you, at last. His thumb found its way to your clit and rubbed your bundle of nerves continuously. He watched your chest rose up and down. Your breath got heavier each second before your climax finally washed all over you.

The last thrust made you sobbed when your first orgasm finally washed all over you. Suna watched your face contorted with pleasure after your first orgasm. "Where do you want me?" he asked. He was sure to ask for your consent before doing anything that could put your health at risk.

"Inside, please," you choked back your moans.

Suna nodded his head lazily with a harsh pant before spurting his thick cum inside you. He carefully not to collide with you. He stayed on top of you while staring straight into your eyes, which you avoided. Suna brought your face to look at him. "Why?"

"Nothing" you kept your replies short. "Can you get off of me? I need to clean myself up," you asked nicely. You felt awkward being naked in front of him right now. The silent atmosphere was killing you inside when Suna wouldn't move. "Please, Suna. I'm asking you nicely" with a stern voice, he finally moved from being on top of you.

You picked your dress that was on the floor, together with your undergarments. Suna rested his back comfortably on the soft cushion of the couch while his eyes trailing your movement. Even without his guidance, you knew how to make your way to his apartment. You entered his minimalistic yet huge bedroom and headed straight to the bathroom.

Suna's very organised. He placed a set of clean towels on top of the counter, easy for you to use after showering. You ran the water in the bathtub and sat there in silence. You immediately thought of he was different than any other day today. He was like a different person. Maybe he wasn't just in the right headspace? You don't know either. You heaved out a deep sigh while your thoughts drowned you.

He waited for you to clean up with patience. Suna wore his new freshly cleaned hoodie and put on comfortable shorts. He killed time by being on his phone. He may look calm at the moment, but his mind was raging with storms. He wondered what he would say to you once you got out of the bathroom. All he wanted to do was apologise to you. He could not stop shaking his legs because of his overthinking.

You came out of his bathroom in your previous dress. The moment you got out of the bathroom, you made eye contact with Suna, who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He immediately got up once he saw you came out. "Wait. Don't go home yet," he pleaded. Suna stopped you from moving. You sighed, your eyes looking up at him. "What?"

"Please. Just don't go home yet. There's something I want to say to you," he said. His mind was racing, and he wasn't sure if he could say it to you today. But, he didn't want to wait any longer.

You nodded your head lazily as you dragged your feet to his bed. You sat on his bed comfortably, waiting for him to speak whatever he's been wanting to say.

Suna sighed. "I want to apologise to you. You know, if I ever hurt you or offended you in any way. Coincidental or not, I still want to say sorry to you," he started off well, he guessed. He looked at you once again.

"And I-" before he could complete his sentence, he was cut off by you.

"If you want to say you have feelings for me, you can stop your sentence right there" you looked at him with your sharp gaze. You rose from the bed and halted to stand in front of him. "Don't say you have feelings for me, Suna. That's not what we promised before we started this fuck buddy thingy."

Suna was astonished by your words. Did- did you really have no feelings for him? At all? Wow, he really thought you would fall in love with him back. Both of you have been friends since a few years ago. At least, to him, you would feel the same way too.

Judging by his expression, you assumed your point was correct all along. "I'm sorry I can't return the same feeling. Let's just end this here" you clutched on your purse tightly and started walking away. "I'll return your access card by mail. It was fun knowing you. Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Suna."

You knew you didn't mean anything you just said. But, you did not want to be with a man who would devote only half of his heart. Worse, if he doesn't devote all of him to you. What's the purpose of being in a relationship, then?

He pulled you back, preventing you from leaving his apartment. "Please, can you give me a chance? You didn't even give me a chance to prove myself. Do you really think I'm that selfish? Do you really think I felt nothing all the time we have been together? You knew too well I can't express my feelings right, sometimes. Hell, I don't even know how to describe how I feel and what to say! You are the only person I can be comfortable with. And, I am not lying about this. I am serious."

You felt his hot breath fanning over your neck with his arms wrapped around your body. With a heavy heart, you loosened his hold around you and gripped his shoulders firmly. "But I don't want this, Suna. A relationship won't ever work if it's one-sided. I'm truly sorry. You're a great man, and I am sure there are people out there who deserve your love. Sadly, I can't be that person. I've only seen you as a friend, nothing more than that."

He felt his heart was cut with a sharp blade, and he stood there watching the blood was pouring out of it. Blood was pouring out non-stop that he could see himself drowning in blood. Suna let out a scoff when he felt you loosened your grip on him. "Am I really that bad in your life?" His voice turned shaky when he was asking you. He loves you sincerely. Maybe it's not the time for you to see it just yet.

"No, you aren't. You are a nice person, I could say. I'm not looking for a relationship right now. Remember what we promised, Suna? We promised to end this when one of us finally caught feelings. Do you remember that? Because I still do," you clarified your stand. Both of you did promise to end the whole fuck buddy thingy if one of you caught feelings. And today is the day he isn't ready to go through.

He let out a deep sigh. His mind told him to beg you, but his heart did not want to beg you to stay. "Okay. If that's what you said. You don't have to return my access card. You can still come over anytime. You know that" he smiled bitterly. His tears were prickling in the corner of his eyes, waiting for the perfect time to run down his cheeks.

"Thank you. I'm sorry," he said for the last time. He listened to your footsteps making their way to his front door. The last thing he heard before he crumbled completely was the sound of his door being closed by you. That was the last time you've ever stepped in his house.

You have never cried so much like you did the moment you entered your car after leaving his house. You tossed your purse to the passenger's seat and let tears streamed down your face for breaking his heart. Not only that, you lied to your feelings too. Knowing too well both of you actually love each other, but you were too scared if he wouldn't return the same feeling. But now that he did, you backed out like a coward.

Even drinking each night would not help you to forget what happened between you and Suna. Days passed by, and you felt like your life was not the same as before. You believed it has something to do with Suna. By repetitively tapping your pen on your office desk, you decided to come over to his house tonight and made up.

Suna laid on his couch lazily while his mind wandered to how you have been doing. He wanted to call you, but then he realised both of you are done for good. He smiled bitterly when he remembered your warmth and how beautiful you have always looked. He missed you... terribly.

You took a deep breath before entering the passcode to his apartment. Suna then heard the beeps of keypads being pressed from outside. He wondered who would be here at this hour? Is it Atsumu again? Oh my god, that guy just won't stop hanging out with him. Suna then walked to the front door, "Atsumu, please go home! I don't want to hang out today!"

But when you showed up at his front door, he froze in his place. "Suna," he heard your soft voice calling for his name. You looked at the dark circles under his eyes. Oh god. Did he not sleep for the past few days? "Suna," you snapped your fingers at him. The sound of the snap echoed in the small space of the entrance door.

Suna could not believe his eyes that he thought he was dreaming for a while. "Why are you here?" he asked. Don't get him wrong. He was glad that you decided to come back to him. He just didn't know how to react because he did not expect you to show up at this hour, where he often finds himself spacing out.

"Oh. You wanted me to leave? I'll gladly leave," you said and pretended to leave for real. But he was quick to snatch your arms and pulled you to his toned body.

He scoffed, "That's not what I said. I need you to stay here, please." He looked at you with hope glimmering in his eyes. Suna then escorted you to the living room and asked you to have a seat. Both of you needed to have a proper closure before putting a label on each other.

"I'm sorry for hurting you the other day. That was my fault. I just don't want us to end up being strangers, you know. We were and are still friends. I am here because I didn't want to lie to myself anymore" your words trailed off. You took a breath and looked at Suna in the eyes. "Suna, I hope you and I don't end up breaking each other's hearts."

Suna understood what you were afraid of. You have every rights to be afraid of being in a relationship. He smiled at you before speaking. "I don't want to promise anything, but you're all I need in my life. I swear," he confessed. "Because I'm always right here with you."

You smiled when both of you have gotten the closure you guys needed. "Don't say that. It's, oh god embarrassing," you laughed. Suna laughed when he saw you laughed. Oh, how he missed that smile. He's happy to have you back in his life and to have you as his, at last.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #suna smut

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troubatrain · 4 years ago

Text

bad behavior - m. tkachuk

a/n: i don’t know when i started writing consistently but here we are. this another part of this series i was super excited about writing because this song is what put the idea in my head to begin with. quick shout out to @hookingminor, @tkafuckit, & @davidpastrsnack for reading my work and validating it because i swear i would never finish without you guys sometimes. hope you guys like it!

as per usual i recommend listing to the song while you read!

part of my lovely little lonely series

warnings: smut

“...you tell me, you're insecure, but don't be, stay soft, but don't be gentle, it's altogether mental...” - Bad Behavior - The Maine

I’m not a distraction am I?

Of fucking course you are, Matthew thought, buttoning up his dress shirt while he looked at the fresh marks he bit in your back not even fifteen minutes ago. You were the biggest distraction, Matthew forgoing his pre-game nap just for extra time with you between the sheets. You were a mistake he couldn’t stop making, ignoring the constant pull in his chest whenever you left because you didn’t do anything more than what you gave him.

Really, it was probably karmic punishment for all the shitty things Matthew’s done in his life. The universe would drop his dream girl in front of him but as it turns out, she played the game better than him. It wasn’t like he didn’t get a warning from your best friend Ella who’d been dating Sam from what seemed like the dawn of time. You were a heartbreaker, it was just how it was and that was how it’s going to be. Matthew ignored Ella, taking you home without a second thought because that’s what he wanted too. No Strings Attached. Turns out, he was in over his head when you left one night and the other side of Matthew’s bed felt cold for the first time in his life.

“You’re not a distraction pretty girl,” Matthew nods, curls bouncing against his forehead while he admires you from the otherside of his bedroom, “Are you coming tonight?”

“Are you going to be on your worst behavior?” You ask, rolling out of bed to collect your clothes Matthew never seemed to toss in one place. That’s why you were different, every person in his life telling him to ease up in his game - except you. You loved watching Matthew get into it on the ice because after those games the sex was just better.

Matthew chuckles, watching you unhook your panties from the lamp in the corner of the room and frowning when you saw the tear he ripped in them, “I’ll be on my worst behavior if you’re coming home with me later.”

“Twice in one day is pushing your luck Matthew,” You sigh dramatically, fixing his collar and flattening his tie, “And exhausting for me quite honestly.”

“I’ll be easy,” Matthew suggests, fingers gently pushing a piece of hair from in front of your face. Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the moment. This made it so hard to keep your distance, the fact that Matthew was more of a gentle giant than he led on most of the time. Sure, he could pull your hair back when he hit it from behind and he made the dirtiest jokes in crowded rooms, but when all was said and done - he was kind. Someone would be lucky to have him one day, but that someone just couldn’t be you.

“You’ve never gone easy on me ever,” You giggle, pressing a kiss against Matthew’s jaw, “Good luck.”

***

Matthew didn’t know why he was so nervous about a silly All Star game, but he was. Maybe it was because it was at home, or maybe Brady’s last minute addition had him reconsidering. Either way, he’d been pacing for the last hour and trying to decide if he should tell you to stay home. He couldn’t do that, as if he was going to deny himself the small sliver of happiness he got every time you decided you wanted to see him. You were in charge, and it changed the playing field for Matthew entirely. It wasn’t like it usually was, Matthew being the one who often found themselves hanging by the phone in hopes you’d call. You didn’t, so Matthew got his hopes up and told you to stop by before he left for St. Louis.

“Hey All Star,” You muse, sneaking inside and taking off your coat. Matthew stops his pacing, smiling to himself that you actually showed up when he asked. No answer to his text, because why would you bother to let him know you were on your way. That would be too easy, and you weren’t by any means easy.

Matthew opened his mouth to ask you how your day was, but shut it once he realized he’d never get an answer. The only things he knew about you were learned from Ella and Sam, not a single detail of anything that happened outside of the walls of Matthew’s apartment was ever mentioned to him by you. You knew tons about him, because he opened up to you so easily it was breaking his heart that you wouldn’t do the same. He wondered why he did this to himself, why he didn’t just find someone who was obsessed with him. He liked the chase, Matthew’s athletic intuitions pushing him to strive for the best prize he could find, and you’d be the best of them all if he could have you.

Instead Matthew did what he always does, he pressed his lips to yours and pushed you up against the door. His hands were on your waist, an ironclad grip as if you’d slip right through his hands if he didn’t stop you. You probably would have.

“What’s wrong?” You question, Matthew confused as to how you knew something was up. His eyebrows furrowed, head cocking to the side like a puppy who was trying to figure out what a new sound was. You laugh, a melodic giggle carrying through Matthew’s almost barren apartment, “Your hands are right above my ass but you failed to touch it once, what’s up?”

“I’m, uh, nervous?” Matthew admits, his weaker parts of his brain succumbing to the pout on your lips. That pout could be what killed him. Matthew wasn’t dealing with it well, it being the newfound pressure he’d been feeling to be a top tier player. People expected him to turn it on for every game, and at first he loved it. Then he realized he no longer got the chance to slack off when all eyes were on him, Matthew had been internally crumbling ever since.

That wasn’t necessarily the only reason he’d been insecure lately. You weren’t helping, but you couldn’t be hurting him that much. Maybe you were. Matthew was trying really hard to be cool, but he was failing miserably. He got jealous more often than he liked to admit, and he was a liar if he didn’t deep dive your Instagram to see if you were very clearly seeing someone else. He was gone a lot, and you didn’t owe him any sort of explanation and he knew that. He knew he respected you enough not to ask but he liked you enough to care, and it was eating him alive.

“Pressure’s a lot, I just don’t feel like, you know,” Matthew explains, fumbling over his words and waving his hands because he didn’t want to say it. His voice got lower, words mumbled together when he spoke, “I’m insecure.”

“Don’t be,” You shrug, a wide confident smile on your face. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little surprised by Matthew, because as far as you knew he was a big bad guy, or at least he thought he was. You thought it was all bullshit, but you did often think that kind of pressure couldn’t be healthy. Every fiber of your being told you to run, that this was getting too emotional and if you didn’t stop you were going to ruin him forever. You did it all the time, your heart wasn’t built for more than a night and you were just accepting it. If you weren’t going to be able to stop self destructing anyone who tries to connect to you emotionally besides your loved ones you protected so fiercely - then you were going to have fun.

Which is what you thought you were getting into. You took Matthew home with nothing but his reputation spinning around in your head that he was the perfect conquest. Then you fucked, and it was too good to give up. So you kept him at arms length, never giving into those damn eyes and his frown whenever you left after you had sex. It was better that way, for both of you really.

“That’s all you got for me?” Matthew asks, stifling a laugh at your simple answer. He was admitting to you something he’s never let another soul know but you simply just shrugged.

“Okay, how about this,” You take a deep breath, snaking your hands under his shirt and grazing your nails against his skin.

You’re Matthew fucking Tkachuk. Your lips pressed against his jaw, a smirk gracing his face. You don’t give a fuck who’s in your way, you’ll hit them. Your lips moved to his ear, whispering softly. You’re what Doughty’s nightmares are made of. Your hands slipped down, playing with the waistband on his boxers. And you can score with the best of them, on and off the ice. Matthew laughed at that one, a smug smile back on his face where it rightfully should be. You have nothing to worry about.

Both of Matthew’s large hands landed on your cheeks, calloused fingers rubbing against your skin and his lips on yours. He didn’t need to say anything, he’d show you just how badly he needed that. Matthew pushed you towards his bedroom, your back hitting the plush mattress. You tossed your hoodie off, Matthew losing his at the same time. You admired him, the way his muscles were defined in the moonlight from his windows. Matthew’s hands slid down your back, unclasping your bra with one hand and smirking to himself when it slid off. You stroked his ego for a reason, one that ran a chill up your spine while he pressed kisses down your body.

“You’re fucking sexy,” Matthew mutters into your skin, sliding off your leggings and eyes practically rolling to the back of his head when a pair of lacy red panties caught his attention. His finger slid underneath them, fingers slick from your core, “And wet too huh?”

“Do you plan on doing something about it or should I call someone else,” You tease, Matthew’s free hand gripped your thigh when you spoke, jealousy coursing through his veins. He finger pulled against your panties, a loud rip catching your attention, “Matthew!”

“Don’t joke like that then, I’ll take care of you just fine on my fucking own,” Matthew growls, lips ghosting your clit. You whimper, running a hair through Matthew’s hair. His tongue lapped at your pussy, trying to remind you just why you couldn’t shake him. He was competitive, and if he had to fight for his spot in your line up he’d do it. You were a mess, a string of curses falling through your lips and your moans echoing in the room.

“Matty, fuck,” You let out a cry, gripping his curls tightly. Matthew flicked your clit with his tongue, a gasp leaving your mouth. Matthew went to overdrive, his well skilled tongue moving quickly to send you over the edge. You grinded against his mouth, his hands holding down your waist so he could keep going while you came on his face. You finally push his head back, unable to take anymore.

Matthew crawls back up your body, capturing your lips with his and kicking off his boxers. You push him onto his back gently, a smug smile on his face and his hands landing behind his head, “A show?”

“Shut up,” You shake your head, letting out a laugh while you straddle Matthew. You pumped him a few times, lining his cock up with your pussy and easing yourself onto him.

“You look so good on top of me,” Matthew muses, a cocky tone to his voice. You grab the overgrown curls on the nape of his neck, rolling your hips against him and smirking when a groan left his lips, “My perfect fucking girl.”

Matthew’s hand smacked your ass while you rode him at your own speed. His free hand gripped your hip, speeding up your pace. Matthew loved being on top, a translation of his control that he desperately craved, but he let you do whatever you wanted. His hand snuck up your body, hand gently gripping your neck, “If you leave a mark this time Matthew-”

Matthew chuckles, remembering the borderline vicious threats you sent him the last time his grip got a little too tight and you didn’t realize until the next day. Matthew pulls you down to meet his lips, flipping you over onto your and back wrapping on your legs around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours, something you noticed he'd been doing more often lately, “Cum for me, fuck, c’mon.”

“Harder,” You nod, eager to chase your high and give him what you knew he wanted. He liked to get you off, the satisfaction of pleasing you did it for him, Matthew often bragging about how much a giver he really was. Your pussy fluttered around him, Matthew pulling his cock out and spilling onto your stomach. He looked down at you, completely fucked out with his cum on you like you were his. Your eyes were glassy, lips swollen from his while you caught your breath, “Shit.”

Matthew laughs lightly, walking into the en suite bathroom to get you a towel. He was always gentle afterwards, taking care of you after he absolutely wrecked you as if it was going to remind you that maybe he deserved more than you were giving to anyone else. You tuck your head into Matthew’s pillow, sleep about to take over your body. You never stayed, your own little rule because you just knew if you let him hold you it would be over, “Just stay, you look tired pretty girl.”

Matthew’s voice was gentle, his finger running along your bareback lightly while he offered you a shirt in the other. He wanted you to stay so badly, “Matty-”

“My flight leaves in a few hours, it’s like a nap,” Matthew whispers, and you smile at his excuse for you to sleepover. You nod, sitting up and tossing on whatever gray t-shirt he’d given you. You didn’t know, but it was his favorite shirt in the world, the fabric soft like a tee that had been well loved.

Matthew was supposed to have woken you up before he left, dropping you off at your place before he headed to the airport to go home. He was going to, he swore he really was, but when he was leaving you looked so damn cute snoring away in his favorite shirt. So he left you a note, telling you to lock up before you left and that he’d see you the day he got back. You woke up peacefully, the light shining through the floor to ceiling windows in Matthew’s apartment and rolling your eyes at his note. You grab your phone, smiling when you notice he left it charging for you.

You told me it was a nap.

Maybe you shouldn’t look so cute when you sleep then.

You roll over screaming in the pillow because you were going to ruin him.

***

Matthew had enough of the waiting game.

It's been nine days since that night and Matthew was losing his fucking mind. He was playing like absolute garbage, his name off the scoresheet since the All Star break. Matthew was lashing out left and right, both against the opposition and his own friends when they grew concerned. He thought about moving on, even calling up an old fling. That didn’t end well, Matthew moaning your name by accident in bed and then she left almost immediately after. He was frustrated with himself for getting this invested, but you were intoxicating. Matthew left the Saddledome after another shit game and drove to your place, with the intent that you were either going to hear him out or he was going to have to cut you out of his life.

“Hi?” You were confused when you saw him on the other side of the door, you leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. You were already pressed, wondering what Matthew thought he was doing banging on your apartment door. He looked pissed, bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days and you were already rolling your eyes at the tweets about him being a bust.

“I can’t do this shit anymore,” Matthew steps inside, stomping into your space and gritting his words, “You have this hold on me, and I know I told you I could be cool about this but I can’t be. I’m fucking jealous of every other dude you could be with and I think about it all the time-”

“And I’m a heartless bitch,” You hiss, every wall you had just got taller. Your words could cut like a knife, and you were ready to let Matthew have it, “I’ve heard it from everyone, I ruin people Matthew, save me the argument.”

“You’re not going to ruin me, I know you, fuck,” Matthew steps forward, every bit of anger in his body disappearing when he saw the way you lip was starting to quiver. His voice got lower, his thumb running along your jaw, “I know you think you bring out the worst in me, but you bring out my best too.”

“I’m going to hurt you, I always do,” You whisper, averting your eyes down so you didn’t have to look at him.

“Then hurt me later,” Matthew took this as his turn to shrug, try and take a page in your book and be a little nonchalant, “For now, could we just try this out? No games, no one else, just us.”

“This is bad for you Matthew,” You give him one more warning, pulling him closer to you and tugging on the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Be bad for me then,” Matthew groans, grabbing a handful of your ass and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Matthew!”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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