#BUT I LIKE TO LOOK THROUGH MY OWN BLOG SO I CAN GAZE AT MY CHARACTERS AND IMAGINE SCENERIOS WITH THEM WHEN I CANNOT DRAW | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rinneverse · 10 months ago

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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! — 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊. ˒ ⊹

me and my roommate get drunk one night and end up fucking!!!! oh my god, this is so awkward…

୨ৎ syn. it’s your final year of uni—after midterms come to a close, you decide to celebrate by getting absolutely SMASHED with your roommate, itadori yuuji. much to your chagrin, this decision comes with a boatload of consequences. how do you navigate the awkward morning after with your golden retriever of a roommate!? (4.8k)

୨ৎ pairing. itadori yuuji x f!reader

୨ৎ cw. modern au, fem!reader, both yuuji and reader are in their final year of uni and are implied to be 21+, alcohol mentions, drunk sex, dubious consent (read prev warning), pet names used (baby, pretty, angel), oral (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dealing w/ the repercussions of fucking your roommate the morning after (but it ended up alot more fluffier and romantic than i intended because i love him), minors + ageless blogs dni! 18+ content under the cut!!

୨ৎ love, oak! oh christ almighty. i like itadori yuuji a normal amount. i just really really think he'd make the perfect boyfriend ever. first time writing for him so hoping and praying he isn’t incredibly ooc but regardless,, hope u guys like this i wrote it with my entire clit :3 crossposted to ao3 here!

[ main m.list! ┊coming soon... ]

“Yuu~ji!”

Your lilting voice carries through the shared living space of your apartment. Shuffling in through the entryway, the door clicks shut behind you as you peer around the corner of the entrance hallway.

“You there? Yu?”

You hear a muted groan come from the couch in response.

Toeing off your shoes with a giggle and setting them onto the shoe-rack (the same shoe-rack you constantly have to pester Yuuji about—”Yu, don’t just leave your shoes on the floor! The rack is right there!”—every other day), you peek over the back of the fluffy couch in the living area and find Yuuji sprawled on his stomach over it, face shoved in a pillow.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Like I’m dying,” comes his muffled reply.

You reach a hand down to tousle his already messy bubblegum pink hair. He weakly bats a hand at you.

“Surely you can live a little longer for a night out with your favorite roommate?”

With a grunt, Yuuji flips over, lying on his back. He blinks once, twice. Then he grins; that familiar, radiant grin that makes your heart speed up a little in your chest. You can feel your own smile widen in response.

“I think I can do that,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows. He tilts his head at you. “You’re not gonna pass out on me again though, are you?”

Your eyes narrow slightly in challenge. Bringing your face closer to his by leaning over the couch, you reply snarkily, “and you’re not gonna force me to shoulder you the whole way home again, are you?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen at the new proximity, a faint rosiness rising to his cheeks that makes you giddy. His throat bobs before he replies, “No, promise I won’t.”

You think you see his eyes flick down momentarily—towards the swell of your chest, exposed by the low-cut top you had chosen to wear today—causing a smug sense of satisfaction to pool in your tummy. You lean further, the urge to be a tease winning out over your usual sense: over the notion that you shouldn’t be flirting with the guy you live with. It's entirely a bad idea (and yet here you are, doing it anyways).

Yuuji’s lips part slightly; when he meets your gaze again, there’s hunger shining in his big brown eyes, hazy and diluted by conflict. You can see the inner strife going on in his head already: he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his roommate. He shouldn’t be a perv.

You shouldn’t be feeling this way about him either, but you just can’t help yourself. Something about the way he’s looking at you fills you with a streak of confidence that throws all common sense out of the window.

“Good. Be ready at 7?” Your tone has noticeably lowered, nearly a purr even as you smile innocently down at him.

Yuuji swallows again, still looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sure—okay. Sounds good!” He babbles nervously.

It’s cute. He’s cute.

“Cool. ‘m gonna get a nap in then.”

He nods his head slowly. The tension hovers in the air between you, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Slowly, ever so slowly, you straighten, watching as his eyes never leave your form. You bite your lip and offer Yuuji a softer smile before you turn on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

You can feel the way his eyes bore holes into your back as you walk away, skirt swishing with every step. You purposefully sway your hips a little more despite yourself and you think you hear him choke slightly, a sound that makes you feel much more smug than it realistically should.

As you close the door to your bedroom, the only thing on your mind isn’t how tired you are from dealing with midterms—it’s how Yuuji looked at you just moments ago, eyes gleaming with raw want, like you were a five star meal served on a silver platter. You clutch your chest as you flop onto your bed.

There’s always been an underlying tension between you and Yuuji. It used to be easier to ignore, something left tucked away in the corners of your mind, leaving you to instead settle for an easy friendship. Something that doesn’t complicate things, especially since you live together. There’s no avoiding any awkward encounters should either of you decide to take that step.

But lately, things have been coming to a boiling point. You’re not sure if it’s the stress of your final year of uni dawning upon you or if its just years of tension finally being pulled taut enough to snap—whatever it is, it has muddled your senses enough to find flirting with Yuuji fun instead of something forbidden. It has you pushing boundaries you never thought you would push with him before.

Oh, well. If there was any time for things to make some bad decisions and get a little complicated with your incredibly handsome roommate, your last year of uni might just be perfect. Screw the consequences.

“Yuu,” you moan, drunkenly stumbling into a wall of muscle.

Thankfully, that wall of muscle happens to be Itadori Yuuji. He wraps a strong arm around your waist, a hiccup bubbling from his lips as he grins down at you.

“Hey there,” Yuuji laughs. “You okay?”

“Yeeeeaaahhh,” you slur. “Are we home yet?”

“Almost there. Hang on a little bit more for me, okay?”

The night air is crisp and cooling against your balmy skin, a welcome relief after spending hours in a bar packed with sweaty bodies and bass thrumming through your veins. It’s breezy, fallen leaves rustling across the ground as the wind scatters them along the sidewalk. A particularly stronger gust has you pressing closer to Yuuji, your little top and skirt doing little to protect you against the autumnal weather.

Yuuji pauses, making sure you’re steady before he shrugs off his jacket.

“Here, put this on,” he says, gently maneuvering your arms into the warm sleeves. His cologne wraps around you in its embrace, warm and musky and tinged just a little bit with alcohol. You smile.

Megumi and Nobara have already made their separate ways home, the former grabbing an uber while Nobara hitched a ride home with Maki. You can’t help the way you giggle and stumble as Yuuji ushers you forward again. “Nobaraaa’s gonna geeet iiiiit,” you snicker, latching onto the hard muscle of Yuuji’s bicep to steady yourself. “Did you see the way Maki w’s lookin’ at her? I wish someone looked at me that way.”

Yuuji is probably about equally as blasted as you are (you went shot for shot, after all), but he manages to carry himself in a more sober manner than you. He lets you latch onto him like a koala as he guides you through the doors of your apartment building.

He’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so—he’s usually a chatterbox when drunk.

“Yuuji? Did’ya even hear me?” you push.

“I heard ya,” Yuuji hums, pulling you into the elevator with him. As the machinery moves up to your floor, it makes your stomach lurch—forcing you to grab onto Yuuji tighter and bury your face in his shoulder.

“Are we there yet?” You grumble into his arm, clutching him tight.

“Almost,” he replies softly. You think you feel a gentle kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, but with the way everything is spinning, you can’t be entirely sure.

Between some time and the next, you’re finally ambling into your apartment, clutching Yuuji’s jacket tight around you. As the door clicks shut, you spin to face him—

—and end up nearly face planting, if not for the way Yuuji surges forward to catch you in his arms. “Woah there,” he mumbles. “Steady. Don’t move too fast, or you’ll fall.”

Despite his words, he has to lean against the now shut door to keep himself upright, you can feel that much. You grasp the fabric of his shirt in balled fists, pressed against the sturdy surface of his chest. You can feel the way his muscles flex and roll as he shifts with the way you’re pressed up against him.

When you look up at him, doe-eyes wide, you’re met with brown eyes glimmering with want. Lust.

“Yuu… ji?” Your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. He inhales in sync, his hands dropping to curl around your waist. He holds you gently, like a porcelain teacup on the verge of breaking.

It's quiet. There's a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at you.

“Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his lips softly—but with the silence of the apartment, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, it’s earth shattering. His eyes drop down to your glossy lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own.

You’re not in your right mind. This is a bad idea. You know this.

You don’t care.

Pulling at the collar of his shirt, you tug him down to you, lips meeting in a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s electrifying, everything you’ve ever wanted and needed in this one moment, warmth exploding in your chest like a dying star.

Fuck. You were kissing Itadori Yuuji—and it’s everything you dreamt it would be.

He pants your name amidst kisses but it’s hard to hear with your heart roaring in your ears, a drum beating an unsteady rhythm that throws you off balance in your very core. You stumble into the shoe-rack trying to hastily drag him over to the couch. Shoes clatter to the floor as you tumble into him, a moan falling from your lips as he paws at you while your hands tangle in his hair.

“I was lookin’ at you like that, you know?” Yuuji groans as the two of you fall back onto the couch. He holds you on top of him, letting you get comfy as you straddle his lap before he continues. “You haven’t noticed?”

His voice is heavy, dragging drunkenly as you stare down at him. In this position, with Yuuji laid back on the couch, you feel like you’re towering over him—giving you some semblance of control, even though you know perfectly well that Yuuji can flip you over and take you just like that. You dip your hands under his shirt, nails gently scratching against the velvet wrapped steel planes of his abs. Pushing the fabric up, you reveal the faint happy trail that begins at his navel, disappearing teasingly under the waistband of his jeans. You bite your lip.

“Hey,”—your name falls from his lips in the form of a plea, desperate and sweet—”Look at me.”

Big hands squeezing your hips force your attention back to him. You finally listen and meet his gaze, finding that his eyes are heavily eclipsed by dilated pupils, leaving a faint ring of hazel in its wake. It’s like a dark sun, or perhaps a black hole threatening to pull you into him, consumed by everything that is Itadori Yuuji.

You think you wouldn’t mind that one bit.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He’s worried, something that makes your heart warm fondly, giving you a moment of clarity amidst the fog of lust that addles your brain. The guys you typically went home with sometimes never found it in themselves to care too much about you. But Yuuji… he’s different. He does care. Yuuji continues, a touch softer, “We’re both drunk… what if we regret it in the morning?”

You slowly reach down to cradle his face in your hands. When you speak, it’s with a bold certainty that Yuuji cannot argue with: “I know I won’t regret it.”

Yuuji nods his head. With that anxiety out of the way, he surges up to kiss you with renewed vigor, tugging his jacket off of you and pulling the hem of your top over your chest to reveal your tits. When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the pretty lace bra you had opted to wear out tonight.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuji says softly. A groan catches in his throat as you roll your hips down against his, delicious friction against his erection that has you mewling for more.

“Yu,” you sigh out as he unhooks your bra with clumsy fingers, pulling your shirt off as well in one go. The garments flutter to the floor, forgotten.

“I mean it—you really are.” His voice has noticeably deepened, taking on a huskier tone that makes your toes curl. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I never can.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, quick and chaste, drawing a path down your jaw, the slope of your neck. He removes a hand from your waist to palm at your sensitive breast, drawing a whimper from you that has his cock twitching in his pants. “I can’t believe you’ve never noticed. Our friends tease me all the time for it, you know?” He sighs, nearly a whine, words slurring together in a lust-drunk haze as he presses a kiss to your collar. “I could never take another girl home with me because I only want you.”

Yuuji’s drunken confession sends you reeling, thighs tightening together around him as you tilt his chin up towards you. Love and adoration glimmers in your eyes as you respond gently, “I only want you, too.”

He smiles at you then, scooping you up in his arms as he rises. “Don’t wanna ruin the couch,” he murmurs, strong hands grasping at the fat of your ass as he carries you with ease. “Your room or mine?”

“Yu—” you gasp, clutching onto him for dear life, “mine, please.”

Even drunk, he moves with you with a practiced ease—as if you’ve done this your entire lives. As he lays you on your bed, he curls over you, lips pressing together messily as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt. There’s a brief moment where he pants, “Can I take them off, pretty? Can I?,” as he nips at your lower lip. You nod your head; immediately he’s sliding them off, leaving you in your lacy undergarments and feeling unfairly naked compared to him. You cross your arms over your chest shyly.

Yuuji smiles sweetly as he kneels, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“Don’t hide from me, baby. I wanna see you..” He trails off as he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, eyes flicking up to yours in silent question. You can only manage to nod your head—words have entirely escaped you at this point. If you spoke, you weren’t sure what, exactly, would come out.

The way he pulls the fabric off of you is almost reverent, his eyes never leaving your body as he sets your panties to the side. His breath is hot against your skin as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Baby,” Yuuji starts, the pet name falling from his lips with ease, like something familiar, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Calloused fingertips press into the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs open, even going as far as hooking a leg over his shoulder as he settles between them. His breath is hot and heavy as he grows closer to your core. It’s embarrassing, and you want to press your legs together, but Yuuji doesn’t allow this. He’s firm in his place, holding your legs wide open, baring you to him.

He starts gentle. A kiss to the apex of your thighs, a gentle finger running along your sensitive, weeping slit. A shiver runs down your spine as he parts you open, eyes raptly on you.

“Don’t stare,” you whine. “It’s embarrassing.”

He murmurs a soft apology, taking one more second for himself before he dives right in: tongue lapping at you voraciously, pulling the sweetest of moans from your lips as he eats you out like a man starved. You try to press your thighs together once more but he holds you open, unyielding in his grip as his tongue dips in your slit, then draws upwards, making circles around your clit.

He’s messy in the way he eats you out. He doesn’t hold back, either: he laps at you like he’s a dehydrated man at last finding an oasis, drinking in your juices like it’s the finest of nectars. Slick covers his chin as he raises his head to look at you, half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he eases a finger into you. It slips in with ease, aided by how wet you’ve gotten on just his tongue alone.

Your back arches as he pumps his finger into you. You need more. “Yuuji,” you plead in a broken moan. “Need more—want your cock inside me, I can take it.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he’s nodding his head like an eager puppy, withdrawing his hand and rising to pull his clothes off. You whine, a soft plea of, “hurry, need you now,” that has Yuuji clumsily fumbling at the button of his jeans. He doesn’t even pull them off fully, letting the fabric pool at his ankles as he takes his dick in his hands and presses his hips to yours. His shaft presses against your messy slit, pulsing and needy.

“Fuck,” he curses, a soft whine sounding deep in his throat as his hips cant against yours. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you take in the sight: Yuuji, desperate, grasping your legs and nearly folding you in half as his cock rests on your pelvis, your navel. He’s big. The thought of someone his size fucking into you should be scary, but you know Yuuji will take care of you—or perhaps that’s the liquor in your brain telling you that you can take it, that you need him inside of you now.

“You’re gonna feel me so deep, baby,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight. You buck your hips slightly, barely moving thanks to the hold he has on you.

“I can take it,” you repeat, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second. “I need it. Give it to me, Yuuji.” Your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you as finally, finally, he slides the tip against your slit, catching a few times against your clit (”Yuuji, stop teasing me!”) before he finally eases into you, his fat tip breaching your weeping cunt. The stretch burns, but the sensation is not an unwelcome one.

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as Yuuji hunches over you, pressing further into your pussy. It feels like it should almost be fucking impossible how deep he reaches inside you like this.

“Baby, baby,” Yuuji whines against the shell of your ear, breath hot and wet. You can feel his chest heave against yours as he struggles to regain his bearings. “You’re so tight—don’t think I can pull out, you feel s’good…”

As he bottoms out, you think you might die like this. His cock fills you so perfectly, pulsing and twitching inside you as he forces himself to still—to give you time to adjust.

You don’t want time, though. You really will fucking die if he doesn’t move soon.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to you to messily slot your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as his hips buck into yours. “Yuuji,” you breathe out against his lips. “Fuck me.”

“Okay, baby.” He nods, pressing his sweat slick forehead to yours as he moves his hips. He starts slower, long strokes that force you to feel all of him, deep and all-consuming and overwhelming your senses with him, strong arms caging you against the bed as he fucks into you again and again and again.

Yuuji’s pace picks up, your moans a sweet melody in his ears that spurs him on, making him lose all ration in his brain—it’s evident, in the way he growls almost animalistically, hips starting to rut into yours with reckless abandon. His balls slap against your ass, accompanied by a lewd squelch with every thrust into your messy cunt.

“Yu, fuck—please,” you sob with every thrust. He angles his hips a little differently until he finds the perfect spot—that sensitive little part of your cunt that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. Once he finds it, he narrows his focus on it, bullying his cock relentlessly into your pussy until you’re sobbing.

Your nails scratch along his back, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Yuuji groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck, mouthing and biting at the sensitive flesh as his hips pound into you.

“G’nna cum, don’t stop, ohhhh god,” you gasp out as Yuuji nips at the flesh of your collar. You claw at his back, toes curling in the air when you feel him slide a hand between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit, adding to the orchestra of sensations that are driving you mad with pleasure.

“Cum for me, angel,” Yuuji urges you breathlessly, fucking you with a renewed fervor. His hips are starting to stutter, and his large hands are grasping your thighs in a bruising grip as you convulse around him. His voice alone is enough to tip you over the edge; you’re falling into him, into oblivion, orgasming so hard your vision goes dark for a moment.

A long moan of his name falling from your lips is enough to push him over with you, white hot ropes of his cum coating your pulsing heat. You feel utterly breathless, boneless, as Yuuji slowly eases your legs down. The ache is pleasant.

“Baby,” Yuuji pants softly, breaking the pleasant silence as he brushes his fingers across your forehead. “I’m still… can I..?”

Oh, god. He is still rock hard inside of you. Your pussy is still fluttering with the world-shattering orgasm he had just given you—you’re not sure if you can take more.

But Yuuji looks at you with pleading eyes, your name falling from his lips with such desperation that you’re nodding your head, opening your arms for him. He smiles down at you, and as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his hips slowly start to rut into yours again.

You’re not sure how many rounds you go with Yuuji—the rest of the night is a blur of moans and groans, of him making you cum again and again and again, as many times as you can possibly take.

You wake up with a pounding headache and a foreign weight slung over your chest.

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss quietly to yourself, voice raspy with remnants of sleep. “How much did I drink last night?”

Blinking open bleary eyes, you squint against the light that filters into the room—your room, which doesn’t make any sense because you never bring home your one night stands. Your hand brushes against the strong arm slung over you, and that’s when you hear an all-too-familiar snore.

“Oh, fuck.” You repeat, dread creeping into your groggy voice.

That was Itadori Yuuji in bed with you. That was your fucking roommate, naked in bed with you. You’re wearing his overly large t-shirt, and there’s an ache between your thighs that explains exactly what had transpired when you returned home with him last night.

You don’t remember too much, typical of nights where you have a little too much to drink. What you can grasp—mere wisps in the back of your mind—are fleeting moments of mind-numbing pleasure, or of sweet-nothings being whispered into your ear. Whatever scraps of memory you do have are enough to make you want to scream into a pillow out of sheer embarrassment.

You feel the arm around you tighten as Yuuji pulls you into his chest and you squeak.

Oh, that’s just fucking mortifying.

“Mmh… huh?” Yuuji mumbles sleepily. He slowly blinks, eyes focusing on you after a few moments. “What are you doing in my bed..?”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, grasping at the sheets to keep your lower body covered as you do so. Your mouth opens and closes as you look for the right words to say.

Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow. He seems to have come to a realization without you having to say it out loud.

“Oh. This isn’t...” Yuuji frowns. He’s calm in a way that confuses you—why isn’t he freaking out like you are? “We got really hammered last night, huh?”

You slowly nod your head in agreement. “Do you… remember anything?”

Your attention is drawn to his lips when he bites his lower one in thought, then drifts downards when you catch the blooming hickeys on his neck in your peripherals. Oh, god, did you leave those? What were you thinking?

All too slowly, Yuuji’s eyes meet yours. The way he looks at you is almost unbearable. There’s a sinking sensation in your chest: you think he might apologize, or tell you that last night was a mistake. That he won’t let it happen again. Quickly, you blurt, “You don’t have to say it. I get it.”

Yuuji tilts his head, his train of thought forgotten. “Say what?”

“I get that you regret it.” The words start tumbling out of your mouth and there’s little you can do to stop it. “It’s okay, you won’t hurt my feelings. I know you’re too kind to just say it outright like that—“

Yuuji opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel onwards, looking down at your lap. You’re too mortified to look at him directly.

“—And I understand if you maybe want to avoid me for awhile? I know things will be awkward, so seriously, take whatever time you need—“

Your onslaught of words is cut off by Yuuji cupping your face in his hands as he leans forward to kiss you. It’s gentle, and while it only lasts for a heartbeat, to you it feels like it lasts a lifetime.

Stunned, you lift a hand to your lips, ghosting your fingers over them as you stare at him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded.

“Sorry,” Yuuji starts softly, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “I didn’t know how else to stop you.”

You blink at him, making a noise in the back of your throat. It’s an exhale of breath, of one you didn’t even know you were holding until just now.

“I don’t regret it. And I really hope you don’t, too.” Yuuji sighs gently. When his eyes meet yours, he looks unsure, but he continues, “I meant everything I said last night. You’re beautiful, and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Have been, for awhile now.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage. You think your heart might explode in your chest. It beats an uneven rhythm, pulsing against your ribcage as if it’s bound to break out any moment now.

“I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, yanno? But now that, uh...” He clears his throat. “Last night happened… I might as well come out with it.”

You nod your head as his words sink in. Yuuji visibly gets more distressed with every second that passes in tense silence, so you say, “Okay. I see.”

He swallows—you know what he wants to ask: ‘Do you like me like that, too?’ but he doesn’t voice it out loud. It hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You carefully deliberate your next words.

“Will you take me on a date, Yuuji?” you ask bluntly.

“What?”

“I said—”

“No, no, I heard what you said.” His eyes widen slightly, stark relief visible in his irises. “Are you sure? I mean—I’d love to. Yes. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, angel. You name it.”

You smile fondly at Yuuji—you think if he had a tail, it would be wagging ferociously right about now. “First, you can get me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. Then we’ll talk about date plans, ‘kay?”

Yuuji nods his head fervently. He rises out of bed—and quickly realizes that he’s still naked. “Oh—shit, don’t look,” he stammers, lunging for his boxers that were conveniently laid out on the floor as he blushes. Once he’s got those pulled on, he turns towards you. You’ve politely averted your eyes.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he murmurs, grabbing your attention by gently grasping your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Anything else I should grab ya?”

You feel your face warm up at the affection as you shake your head. With a smile, Yuuji shuffles out of your room to go fetch your requested items.

As you sit in the quiet of your bedroom, listening to Yuuji rustle through the bathroom, you think that maybe fucking your roommate wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#☆ oakie writes #jjk smut #jjk x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji smut #yuji itadori smut #yuuji itadori smut #itadori yuuji smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #cw alcohol #dividers by cafekitsune

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kurooh · 7 months ago

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LIGHTS, CAMERAS, ACTION.

🎬 includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, & kaminark denki; + kirishima eijirō cameo!

🎬 warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, pornstar & quirkless au, oral [m&f giving/receiving], vibrators, lots of fucking, threesome, orgasm torture but gentle, lingerie, shower sex, slight name calling (“slut”). not proofread so some parts may sound as though they were written by a degenerate

🎬 notes: here is THEE fabled pornstar au. hero names -> pornstar names. i had so much fun writing this — it may be the new crowning jewel of my blog.. after hours of writing, i hope you all enjoy! <3

DEKU.

☆ known as UA studios’ sweetheart, he has a wild side that viewers go crazy for! his most successful videos involve pussy eating, anal sex, food play, and ads for sex toys/clothing.

“alright,” the director, iida, says to you, “have you reviewed the script? do you understand our requirements?” a friendly makeup artist dusts a hint of blush across your cheeks, and smiles at her work. the makeup look is balanced between noticeable and natural — meant to compliment the lingerie adorning your body beneath your short dress.

“yes, i’ve reviewed it. no fake moans, of course.”

“that’s right. everything must be completely natural. we’re trying to sell pleasure, good sex, and lingerie.”

iida smiles at you, and looks around at the staff waiting for his order. “everyone, please get into position! deku, y/n, remember, you can say cut at any time.”

the cameramen assemble behind their equipment, and iida sits in his chair, script packet in hand. you and deku walk towards the bedroom setup, standing behind the door, preparing to walk on set. “action!”

deku pulls you into his arms, kissing you hard while one of his hands yanks at the door handle. he rams into it with his shoulder, and the both of you are suddenly beneath the warm set lights looking down into the cozy bedroom. you moan, tipping your head back slightly to suck on one of his soft lips, earning a desperate groan from him. when he pushes his hips against yours, your breath catches in your throat when his clothed cock presses against your thinly covered pelvis. part of you didn’t expect him to be this aroused, considering the amount of women he’s been with. you pull back gently, lines from the script flashing in your mind. “i need you so badly, deku.”

deku knows it’s a script, but goddamn do you sound convincing — like you truly want him more than anything. he kisses at your neck, arms wrapped around you, and tugs you with him down onto the bed. now you’re on top of him, in your see-through dress, grinding down on his pelvis and cock desperately. groaning, he flips the two of you over and cages you beneath him with his arms and chest. according to the script, one of his hands should be wandering under your dress and caressing whatever he can touch, but he stares at you instead, enamored with how beautiful you look. he kisses you one last time, and slips off your dress, his eyes going wide at the lacy lingerie adorning your body.

squirming under his gaze, you let your legs fall open, and he leans forward to kiss down your body, starting at your collarbone. he yanks at your bra straps, struggling to get the damn thing off you.

“sit up for me, baby.” deku murmurs, undoing the clasps on your back swiftly and laying you back down on the duvet once the bra’s off. going off script again, he squeezes your tits and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “oh, you’re so fucking beautiful.” your face warms and your back arches off the bed, pressing your tits into his face. his large, scarred hands grasp your tits eagerly, and more wetness pools in the underwear you’re supposed to be selling.

your hips jerk and twist beneath and against his own, and he moans loudly, desperately. deku finally pulls away from your tits, and focuses his attention on your clothed pussy. you’ve completely wet the lacy underwear through and through, causing it to become skin tight against your pussy; your wet folds are now extra defined.

“what a pretty pussy,” deku gasps, slipping his fingers into the crotch part of the underwear and yanking it to the side, exposing your fluttering cunt. with the script and its lines completely abandoned, you and deku make your own ad — “please, deku, wanna cum for you.”

breathlessly, he grabs your hips and tugs your pussy into his face, your clit bumping against his nose. now propped up against the pillows and fully naked, you watch the way he jerks his hips into the bed through lidded eyes. the sight of his desperation adds to your arousal, and you let out a whimper when he easily slips two fingers into you. deku begins a fast, rough pace with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you mercilessly. he takes your clit between his lips and sucks, switching between sucking and licking. you’re blissed out, eyes rolled back and body trembling — all you can hear are deku’s moans and the squelches your pussy makes from his fingers.

“oh, deku,” the thought that your throat will be sore from how loud you are tomorrow flashes through your mind briefly, “please don’t stop!”

he grips you tighter, pushes his face into your pussy more, trying to get impossibly closer to you. his hips quicken against the bed, his pants slipping off him. wait, when had he undone them?

you muffle a scream by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth when he starts to curl his fingers inside you, his large fingers hitting the right spots deep inside you and stretching you out. “pleasepleaseplease,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you’re so far gone. “deku, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

suddenly, your hips buck into his face and there are hot sparks inside of your body, all over you. something in your pussy snaps, and you squirt all over him helplessly. the duvet is splashed, and you even get some on your belly and pelvis. deku takes most of your cum right in the face, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open.

shaking, you use your fingers to collect some of the liquid on your pelvis, and then press them into his open mouth. he moans, sucking on your fingers, his own body shaking. you lean forward slightly, eyes widening when you see a very noticeable wet spot on the front of his boxers, and some dampness on the duvet beneath him. his face is completely wet with your slick and squirt, and you cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, moaning when you taste yourself.

you both sit like that in silence, panting and coming down from your highs. until you both turn to iida and the cameramen, who look very surprised. he clears his throat. “we said cut a while ago.”

DYNAMIGHT.

☆ notorious for his rough demeanor and handling of co-stars, UA studios’ dynamight is popular internationally. his close friendship with fellow star red riot is revered; very occasionally, they collaborate together.

“okay, is everyone situated?” the director, iida asks, taking a step back to look over the setup. a stage crew member adds a pillow behind red riot, and smooths out the crimson couch cushion.

“hurry up and start fuckin’ filming.” dynamight holds the base of his cock tightly, trying to not lose his erection. you’re positioned between him and red riot, tits out, legs spread and sitting lazily. red riot sits behind you, a ring around the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough for a bit of precum to sit atop the head of his cock.

“bakugo!” he hisses, “no need to be so rude to them. i’m sorry for him, everyone.” typically, the rule is to only call co-stars by their porn names, to protect each other’s identities, but the three of you are friends outside of the industry, so none of you follow that rule with each other.

“thank you, kirishima.” iida glances at bakugo pointedly, then turns to sit in his director’s chair. he holds the script packet in his hand, and the clapperboard in the other. “action!” the cameras begin rolling at the clap.

immediately, bakugo grabs your chin and pulls you into a kiss, nipping at your lips while kirishima takes one of your nipples into his mouth and starts to suck. you moan against bakugo’s lips, your left hand sliding from your side up and into kirishima’s soft red hair, and you push his head into your chest further. at your right thigh, you feel bakugo’s cock hardening, ready for your attention. your hand wraps around it, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot below his tip, and he groans, glaring at how kirishima’s taking up most of your focus. he leans over, and threads his fingers through his hair and tugs him right off your chest.

“oi! d’you want her pussy or her mouth?” kirishima’s face flushes, and he glances towards your pelvis silently.

“get on your hands and knees.” bakugo’s command leaves no room for hesitation, and you do exactly what he tells you. kirishima positions himself on his stomach, and places each of his hands on your ass cheeks. while bakugo gestures for you to open your mouth, kirishima presses his face into your pussy, his tongue dragging up and down your slit and collecting all your wetness. his fingers slip inside you, and your eyes fall shut for a moment when he matches bakugo’s pace.

you moan loudly, wiggling your ass back onto kirishima’s face, your mouth opening for bakugo’s large cock. “take it, princess.” he says, using a rare nickname. he exhales shakily once his tip passes between your lips, and pushes all the way in, smirking when you choke loudly.

slowly, he pistons his cock in and out of your mouth, speeding up when he hears you moan. you gasp around his cock when kirishima laps at your clit, his tongue silky soft against you. “red—! don’t stop.” your plea is muffled on bakugo’s cock, and he snaps his hips into your mouth faster when he hears you. bakugo groans loudly when he looks over your body, making eye contact with kirishima.

kirishima’s hands move from your ass cheeks to your hips, and he tugs you closer to him, licking your clit harder. “…taste so sweet,” he moans softly, and you clench on his fingers, jerking your hips back. the faster you cum, the faster he gets to have his way with you when he fucks you. gasping, your eyes travel from bakugo’s pelvis, up his sculpted body, to his face; his brows are knitted in concentration to not cum, and his jaw is slack from the pleasure.

“gonna cum,” you whine, your voice likely unheard over the sounds of bakugo’s groans and your throat being fucked. kirishima hears you, however, and licks your clit through your orgasm. he rises to his knees, uses his hands to spread your ass cheeks, and while you’re still twitching from cumming, he pushes his tip into you. then he snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding all the way inside you and bottoming out.

you gasp loudly, tears forming in your eyes and you stare into bakugo’s eyes. however, he and kirishima exchange a glance, and kirishima starts to fuck you hard and deep, and bakugo matches his pace. choking, you let out a sob at the way you’re being absolutely pounded from both ends. kirishima slaps your ass hard, and tosses his head back in bliss.

“fuck, i needed this. dynamight, should we cover her in cum or fill her up?”

“fill her up, red,” bakugo groans, desperately fighting off his orgasm, “and fuck her harder, for god’s sake.”

one of kirishima’s hands wanders to the small of your back, and he presses down slightly, keeping the both of you steady. the other hand snakes beneath your belly, and presses hard on your lower stomach, right above your pelvis. then, he slams his hips into you with much more gusto, his sounds reverberating throughout the studio. spit drips from your lips and down your chin, and tears flow freely down your face. kirishima’s thick cock is so deep inside you, and you’re so full of pressure you feel like you might explode. and bakugo — god, his cock’s stuffing your throat to its limit, and all you can think about is how much you need their cum.

you pull back off bakugo’s cock and bury your face in the couch cushions below you, sobbing as you throw your ass back onto kirishima. when you come back up, gasping, you say to both of them, begging, “fill me up and make me yours.” then you put all of your weight on your knees, and lift your arms to wrap them around bakugo’s waist, tugging him and his sexy adonis belt into your face. your mouth opens, welcoming his cock again, and with the change of position, he’s able to pound your mouth deeply enough for your nose to hit his pelvis.

with kirishima’s balls smacking into your clit and his cock pounding you so well, plus the added pressure on your lower belly, you find yourself cumming a second time, bakugo’s cock absorbing your loud, whiny moans. that one orgasm causes some sort of chain reaction — as kirishima fucks you through it, you feel another building, then crescendoing just as quickly as it came. but this one is different than the orgasms that preceded it; it feels so much stronger, and your pussy sounds really wet.

bakugo’s cock tightens and you know he can’t hold it back anymore. “shit, i’m so close.”

kirishima is the loudest of the three of you, his voice shaking and wavering as he registers that the three of you are all about to cum at the same time. “fuckfuckfuck, cumming, cum—”

“‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—”

bakugo cups the back of your head harshly, pushing you into his pelvis as he fills up your mouth with an uncharacteristic whimper that he could care less about quieting. your pussy clenches like a vice, and you squirt, spraying kirishima’s abs and pelvis with your cum. the redhead pushes as deep as he can inside you when he fills you up, and whines as he fucks you through it, his cock screaming with overstimulation. bakugo does the same, overstimulating himself too, and they both collapse towards each other, the three of you knocked out in a pile.

“cut!” iida shouts, and the crew rushes to grab cleanup supplies.

SHŌTŌ.

☆ one of UA studios’ most popular stars, shōtō is the audience’s dream fuck. men and women alike go wild over his simple yet sinful roleplay videos, moans, physique, and gentle yet firm treatment of his co-stars.

“now, we’ve already taken most of the footage for the rest of the film, so the shower scene will wrap this up.” director iida eyes both you and shoto earnestly, then adjusts his glasses. “i’d prefer to shoot this in one take, since it’s the end of the day and i’m sure everyone is raring to clock out.”

“of course, i understand,” you nod, and shoto says, “that’s right.”

“great! you’ve read over the script well, yes?”

the two of you nod silently; director iida quickly rushes over to his chair and snatches the clapperboard from his assistant with a whispered thank you. shoto steps out of the bathroom set, and walks into the living room area. you shed your robe and place it on a hanger, then step into the shower, drawing the curtain closed behind you. then, you turn on the water and wait.

“action!”

having already shot the rest of the footage prior to the shower scene, there’s no need to waste any time. squeezing a bit of softly scented body wash onto your hands, you lather it up until it becomes bubbly, then you rub it all over your torso, making sure to get plenty of suds onto your tits. scanning the shower for your face wash, you groan audibly when you realize it was misplaced elsewhere in your shared apartment.

“sho!” you call loudly, your heart fluttering at the thought of what’s coming next. “could you get my face wash, please?”

you continue washing your body, bubbles sliding from your skin to the floor. you hear faint footsteps in the hallway, then the door opens and shoto says from behind the curtain, “here’s your face wash, it was in the kitchen, by the sink.”

“thank you!” he’s been watching your silhouette move on the other side of the flowery curtain, face visibly warming at the thought of you being completely naked, this close to him. he’s still holding onto the face wash, now looking at your used panties and shorts on the counter. his eyes are honing in on the damp spot in the middle of your panties, the way it looks just a bit too sticky to be regular discharge — you were horny today, weren’t you?

fuck, all he can think about is stealing your panties… wrapping them around his cock and using them to help him jerk off to you. the camera zooms in on his hands when he allows himself to pick up your panties, then on his mouth when he brings them to his lips and licks away your slick.

“sho, my face wash?” you ask, sounding confused. your (fake) roommate tosses the panties down, his cock now rock hard in his sweats.

“right, i’m so sorry.” not thinking straight, he snatches the fabric of the shower curtain and its lining and yanks it to the side, exposing you. you, his pretty little roommate, with suds all over her tits, tiny bubbles caught in the fine hairs at your pelvis (yes, he looked. and for a rather long time). you’re surprised, shock and shyness and embarrassment written all over your face, but you don’t dare to close the shower curtain and kick him out of the bathroom.

after all, you’d hoped something like this would happen.

following the script, he’s the first to look away as he hands you the face wash. the curtain falls from his grasp; you notice the outline of his cock in his sweats, and he acts as though he’s about to walk away, off to jerk his cock somewhere in his room.

“sho,” your tone is flirtatious, yet oh so needy as you set the face wash down and open the curtain further. “if you don’t get the hell in here and fuck me right now, i swear i’ll—”

before you know it, his clothes are in a messy pile on the floor, and his cock is bobbing as he gets into the shower with you. your back hits cool tiles and yet all you feel is warmth when shoto kisses you, your heart starting to race as his pelvis meets yours. shoto pulls you off the tiles and closer into his chest, groaning quietly at your soapy tits and hard nipples.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve needed this,” he chokes out, squeezing your tits in his hand. “how i’ve always been waiting for this.”

so far, the script is halfway through. “oh yeah?” you reply breathlessly, “you’re talkin’ like i haven’t been waiting either.”

“waiting for you to—ah!—fill me up and fuck me u-until i can’t stand.” your body and voice shake as his fingers slip between your thighs, the pads of his fingertips grazing your clit and dipping into your soaked slit.

“you’re ready, aren’t you, babygirl?” the nickname rolls off his tongue easily, “prepped yourself before this shower, yes?”

“yes, shoto.”

“what a slut.”

your face burns when you moan involuntarily, hips twisting as he pulls away his fingers. he licks away your wetness, slaps your ass, and whispers heavily, “bend over for me.”

and you do, suds washing off your back since you’re in the stream of the water, both hands planted firmly against the wall. as shoto positions himself behind you, he takes off the shower head; the camera zooms in on your sticky folds, your cunt fluttering at what’s to come. you’d heard privately from some of shoto’s last co-stars, and rumors from all around the studio — his cock was big, and he knew how to use it to make whoever he was with scream. additionally you’d seen the videos online, clips of him stretching out so many women, their screams of pleasure heard in each.

“fuck!” a shockwave of pleasure rushes through you and you register that shoto’s got the shower head aimed at your clit, and the settings are up high. he slaps your ass hard, and your legs spread slightly. grabbing the base of his cock firmly, he guides his tip between your folds, and pushes in gently. you moan, pushing your ass towards him, desperately wanting his full length. “so fucking eager, huh?” he teases, using his free hand to grip your hip firmly; he draws his hips back, then slams all the way inside you, his cock stretching you close to your limits.

you moan sharply, tears burning in your eyes almost immediately. “g-god, you’re perfect,” he hisses, pressing the shower head closer to you, already pounding you hard.

“isn’t this better than taking my panties?” you ask boldly, breathlessly.

“isn’t this better than jerking off in your room, listening to me and my hookups fuck?” he questions you smoothly, and your attitude falls away when the head of his cock slams right into your g-spot.

“oh! r-right there, sho, please.”

“i want to hear you,” he insists, “i want to hear you begging f’me.”

“fuck me hard,” you gasp, tears flowing down your cheeks just as the suds on your tits do. “fuck me, and cum inside me, and u-use me how you want to!”

the script is halfway through, as is the scene, but you don’t want him to stop. the camera zooms in on where you’re connected to him, his cock wet with your stringy slick as he snaps himself in and out of your creamy pussy.

“i will, i will,” he soothes you, his hand slipping and pressing the shower head flush again your clit. with the settings as high as they are, the water proves to be too much, and you find yourself letting out a scream.

“sho—oh! shoto, i’m cumming—”

he fucks you through your orgasm, his head lolling back as he gasps, beginning to struggle to hold his own back. your body shakes as he continues with his ruthless pounding; you feel dizzy when his cock hits the deepest spots inside of you. the shower head is still at your clit, overstimulating you, and even though your pussy is screaming, you don’t remove it.

“fill me up, pleasepleaseplease— i need your cum more than anything else!”

only one orgasm and you’re already feeling dumb on his cock, pussy clenching with desperation as his cock twitches inside you.

shoto pictures the panties outside of the shower that he’d had on his face, taking in your scent and taste. he remembers the times he’d heard you indulging in your own pleasure, messing around with your fingers, hoping that you’d one day be full of cock. his cock. your roommate used to toss and turn in his bed before he’d get out the lotion and open your instagram.

(clips will be edited into the current scene by director iida and the rest of the crew.)

“oh god, fuck— i’m gonna fill you up, and i-i don’t want you to wash it out. i want you to be dripping when you come back and i fuck you again.”

his part of the script is over, and it’s now your turn to nod desperately, then beg him for his cum like a good slut, for the sake of the film— but you’re not acting like he is.

with a deep, gasping groan, shoto unloads inside of you, his cock twitching as he fills you to the brim, some cum leaking out of the sides of your pussy. he collects it on his fingers, and puts the shower head away, then pushes his fingers into your mouth.

“cut! that was excellent, the two of you! we won’t be needing to do another take.” director iida rushes up to you with praises, and shoto fucks into you shallowly, causing you to gasp.

“let’s meet in my office sometime later,” shoto offers with a smile, “to review the footage.”

CHARGEBOLT.

☆ sponsored by many sex toy companies, large and small, UA studios’ chargebolt is recognized by the way he wields his large collection of vibrators! the audience never knows what to expect from him, besides overstimulation of either himself, or his co-star.

after hours, chargebolt—denki, your best friend from UA studios— relaxes with you in your shared apartment and watches movies with you on the couch. occasionally, he’ll start his camboy streams in his bedroom, but he’s usually by himself, until tonight.

as he empties a box of vibrators beside his clothed lap, his phone buzzes as more of his fans join his livestream and leave comments. “guys, slow down,” he whines, struggling to read all the comments; his face changes when he reads a certain comment. “WHAT!? WHO JUST TOLD ME TO BEND OVER AND GET OILED UP??” after a pause, he huffs, “guys, i’m so close to making you all pay to join these lives.”

before denki can start talking to his audience again, the door opens rather loudly and he startles, his body jerking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, eyes moving from his phone and then to his own slowly. your hand finds its place on your hip, and you lean against the door frame, an eyebrow raised.

denki warms, his mouth suddenly dry. “oh.. i’m on a live stream.”

“so you’re a pornstar in the day, and a camboy in the night?” you chuckle ruefully, pushing off the door frame and walking towards him.

“well, yeah,” he forces himself to look away from his phone, and keep himself focused on you, standing over him.

chargeboltsballs — he has a gf ??

therockst4r — YOOO WHO IS SHE

sumumiya — istg if he doesnt fuck her

tipsnwhips — OMG SHE SOUNDS HOT ASF

BBYGIRLLL DONATED $20 AND SAID “invite her on”

“aren’t they curious?” you ask with a giggle, reading some of the comments.

he looks up at you, his face bright red. he can’t believe he’s introducing his camboy audience to his best friend with benefits, that he secretly has a crush on. at this point, you might as well be his girlfriend. “uh,” denki struggles to get over the embarrassment and shyness, “would you mind joining the stream with me?”

“sure,” you sit down cross legged beside him, wearing only a thin pajama top and short shorts. “i’ve actually never been on a stream before, what do we do?”

“we can answer and ask questions, or we can see what people ask of us. i typically do what people ask for donations, or if everyone is in favor of an idea. and there are rules that everyone must follow in here, so nothing bad will be suggested.”

you read a comment, laughing lightly. “no, i’m not his girlfriend. we’re best friends.”

denki notices how easily you laugh it off, and wishes he could find a way to tell you how he really feels. luckily, a commenter comes to the rescue.

Y/NSTITTY DONATED $25 AND SAID “wtf are y’all waiting for?? show us what being fwbs is like! :)”

you and denki scoot away from the camera, and closer to each other — you cup his jaw in your hand and pull him into a smoldering kiss, and he moans desperately, pressing himself closer to you. his hand lands on your back, fingers tugging at the hem of your thin pajama top. meanwhile, your hands insistently yank at the elastic waistband of his sweats.

with half lidded eyes, your lips part, still connected by a thin string of your shared saliva. now on your knees, you quickly rid yourself of your pajama top, and then drag his sweatpants down his legs. you remain in your underwear and shorts; he still has his shirt and boxers.

face hot and chest heaving, you glance towards the phone, which is exploding with comments that are moving far too quickly to read. “what next?” you both ask at the same time, his eyes on your tits.

unanimously, the comments are all asking for him to use his vibrators on you. some request that he tortures you with orgasms, others mention that you should be edged. in your UA studios videos, edging is one of your specialties.

hungrily, you fling yourself into his chest, biting and sucking at his neck. your hands pull his cock free from his boxers, which are wet with precum — he moans against your skin, shaking with need. “gonna torture me, hmm?” sloppily, you rub at his cock, thumb circling the wet head deliciously.

“lay back, babe,” denki finds himself saying, his confident persona back again. “gonna set you up here.”

the comments explode with celebration, excited for what’ll come next. you lay back onto the generous amount of towels he has set up, tugging off your shorts and underwear, ass looking soft and oh so delectable.

denki spreads your legs and spins you from your vertical position to a horizontal one, showing off your wet pussy. with some silky restraints, he secures a wand to your left thigh, the head of the vibrator nudging your clit. he repeats the same with your right thigh, your clit now trapped between two vibrators. in all your time being friends with benefits, he’s never used two vibrators on you at once.

“get on your knees,” he says, his cock bobbing as he stands. with greed that unmatches your excitement in your films or clips, you take his cock into your throat, hands rising to his hips to pull him towards your face. immediately, denki finds himself moaning, one hand tangling in your hair and pushing your head down further; his other hand grasps a small black remote that blinks with light.

chargeboltsballs — damn i’ve never seen her suck dick like that

coconutsss — they have chemistry fr.

“fuck, you f-feel so good,” denki tosses his head back, turning on both vibrators. your hips jerk as he adjusts them to a low-medium setting, the vibrations hitting your clit and flowing through your body like waves.

he tugs you in, your nose pressing into the finely groomed blonde hairs of his pelvis. you moan loudly, your eyes closing as you lean into the sensations of the vibrators. when they open, denki’s looking down at you with a flushed face and eyes full of desire.

you slurp down his cock, developing a fast rhythm so good he bites his cheeks and prays for the strength to hold back his load. he turns up the vibrators, easily switching them to the maximum strength.

you choke on his length, eyes watering as you stare into his own, your hips jerking into thin air. still, you don’t let this newfound pleasure interfere with your cock sucking — you feel his cock tighten a few times, then realize he’s holding himself back.

“let me fuck your throat,” he murmurs, gently pushing you back so you’ll rest on your knees, soaking in more of the sensation from the vibrators. you moan loudly, “c-chargebolt!” even though you really mean to say his name.

smiling faintly, he presses his cock into your open mouth and cups the back of your head roughly. in and out, he fucks into your mouth, his head falling back every time his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around him. between your legs, both vibrators are covered in your slick, dripping onto the floor. your back stiffens when the head of his cock hits a spot that’s extra deep in your throat, and then you can’t take the vibrators any more.

with a desperate whine, you cum hard, your pussy spasming and dripping with more of your juices. tears roll down your cheeks when he keeps fucking your mouth, his pace slowing with a few gasps. the vibrators continue, pushing you through your sensitivity, and you quickly orgasm again, nearly falling onto your back.

denki pulls his cock from your mouth, and instructs you to position yourself in front of the phone. “get on your forearms and knees. i want your face down and your ass up, babe.”

“y-yes!” you agree, reading some of the comments in hopes that they’ll help you ignore the vibrators.

juicybaby6 — he’s so lucky tf!!

grndmsters — wonder how many times she’ll cum… betting 6 times

CHARGEISMYMAN DONATED $10 AND SAID “fuck her brains out bro 🫡”

denki laughs, “will do!” and pushes into your vibrating pussy, groaning loudly at the feeling. you’re so tight around him, so wet and hot — and you’re also vibrating, which feels extra nice on his cock.

“oh, fuck!” you press your face into a towel, nearly squealing when he develops a decent pace, feeling overwhelmed. “i—i’m so sensitive, i don’t think i can take it.”

“don’t worry, babe,” denki coos affectionately, “you’ll be perfectly fine.” after the words leave him, he immediately starts to pound you, hand landing sharply against your ass.

you gasp, pushing your ass closer to his cock, body shaking with effort as you hold yourself up. “i—i’m gonna cum again, please—” you want to beg him to turn off the vibrators, but you feel too fucking good to stop. with a cry, you cum again, statin to sob when the vibrations continue.

denki fucks your puffy pussy mercilessly, groaning loudly. “babe,” he gasps, “i’m gonna —fuck!—cum soon, p-please cum with me!”

just the sounds of his moans have you cumming for a third time. feeling dizzy, you muster out an “mhm, mhm, i’ll try” as the vibrations begin to feel both pleasureful and painful.

crying, you stare right into the phone at your best friend behind you, at how he’s completely unraveling. comments flood in, thirsting over the both of you and how fucked out you look. denki whines loudly, “oh, i’m cumming— with me, cum with me baby!”

a scream rips from your throat as he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim and then some. your fourth orgasm of the night hits you like a train, and all you cry out, “denki!” as your pussy spasms on his cock, feeling a little raw from the vibrators but oh so satisfied. without wasting time, denki rips the tied vibrators from you; they hit the floor loudly, absolutely soaked.

he pulls out for a second and then flips you over and lays you down, pushes back in, and he fucks you until his cum spills out of you, one of his favorite sights. the comments explode with questions and surprise, some pointing out your accidental reveal of denki’s true name during your orgasm.

he slumps on top of you, face buried in your neck, pecking at your sweaty skin gently. “thank you for joining the stream tonight.. i really had a lot of fun.”

“i can only hope i’ll be invited to join more,” you laugh, brushing his hair away from his face.

“are you kidding me? of course!” denki exclaims, nuzzling into your neck now.

the reveal of denki’s name spreads like wildfire online, and you both wake up cuddling to find that you’ve both received angry texts from your managers.

#kurooh #HAPPY 1K !!#maybe do a pt 2 with hawks & others?#mha smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #deku smut #deku x reader #midoriya smut #midoriya x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #denki x reader #denki smut

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hungharrington · 8 months ago

Note

Thinking about Steve cumming quickly - like under 30 seconds of thrusting because he's just so in love with you he couldn't help it

He hides his face in your neck afterwards all embarrassed and you rub his back to bring him back down from the intensity of it all

To add to this - he also has certain triggers that make him cum immediately.

You say you love him, he cums. You scratch at his tummy/happy trail, he cums. You gently pull on his hair, he cums.

My apologies if these thoughts have already been given but it's all I've been thinking about this morning 😭😭

a most delicious ask i’ve been hoarding 🫶 i LOVE all these thoughts i’m sry i didn’t get to incorporate all of them !! is this hot? idk…. but it’s got sum love in it tehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Look, Steve Harrington doesn’t have his reputation for nothing, okay?

He’s a ladies man, through and through. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his hands, he loves getting his face in between a pair of thighs, and perhaps most importantly, he is not a minute man.

Steve Harrington has stamina.

At least, he certainly thought he did— but that was before you. But in his defense, nobody told him that sex is a hundred times better when you love the person. A thousand better if they love you back.

And, god, does he fucking love you.

You’re a dream— all laid out on the bed beneath him, chest bare and eyes soft and heavy. Your lips are sheened with spit and all kiss-bitten and Steve has no doubt he looks the same. Kissing you never gets old. His cock throbs, aching for some friction and just begging to be buried inside you.

“Well?” You say, somewhere between a tease and a breathy gasp. “What’re you waiting for?”

Your fingers slip into the waistband of your panties but Steve is quick to knock them away, replacing them with his own hands. He grins up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can’t let you do my favourite part now, can I?”

You giggle. With that his fingers start to trail down your naval, slow and sensually, dragging the fabric with them. Your hips move to accommodate him and your breath hitches as he drags them down your thighs that part as he wrangles them off your ankles, inviting him in.

Steve nearly groans at the mere sight—a hot surge twisting in his tummy that goes straight to his cock. God, he must be losing blood with how much blood is rushing to harden it up. Or maybe he’s just too enamoured with you and that’s enough to make him breathless. Either way, he’s aching.

“God, baby,” He says, voice gravelly. “Just look at you.”

His hands shift up from grasping lightly at your ankles up, up, up, til he’s nudging your thighs apart further. His dark eyes flick up to your face, his expression one of hunger.

“Y’so pretty, honey,” He coos.

You flush, feeling somehow more naked at his compliment, knowing he’s being sincere. Reaching up, you drape your hand around his neck and urge him forward slowly, pressing up to scrape your lips against his.

“Oh, yeah?” You breathe, your lips twitching up at the obvious way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. “Which part of me’s so pretty?”

Steve chuckles, his gaze switching between your own and says, “All of you,” before he kisses you like he’s starved of the taste of you.

Breaking the kiss, he leans back and his hand disappears into his bedside table for a condom. He makes quick work of it, pausing to give himself a firm squeeze around the base as he does— fuck, he’s going to bust the moment he gets inside of you if he doesn’t take a moment.

But you’re so damn hot — and eyeing him with a heavy desire that makes his tummy hot. He’s not sure he can wait.

He shifts himself up and settles on his hands on your thigh, pushing it back further so he can line himself up and sink in tantalisingly slow. Your cunt is warm and wet, drawing a whiny moan from his throat, and Steve’s head drops into the curve of your shoulder in an instant.

“Fuck,” He hisses, hips flexing to hold back from pushing himself all the way in—a near impossible task considering the breathy little noise you make. God, fuck, fuck, he can’t move another inch or he’ll lose it. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He gasps.

Your arms looped around his neck tighten, pressing your chest up against his as you make a noise of agreement. You begin to mouth lazily up his throat, feeling the throb of his cock between your legs like a heartbeat, burning hotter and hotter.

“Cmon, Steve,” you whisper, nibbling at his earlobe. Steve keens, his hips shoving forward bit more as he tries to contain himself. “Want you to fuck me,”

He makes another pitiful noise that he’d probably be embarrassed of if he wasn’t so gone. He follows your instructions quickly, shifting his hips so he can start slowing fucking into you. It’s lewd, soft wet noises sounding as he builds up a rhythm, sinking himself into you over and over. Pleasure drools through his gut.

“Stevie,” you pout, panting lightly. “Can’t— can’t see you,” You tug on his hair lightly, trying to encourage his face out of hiding but only succeeding in making him whimper. His cheeks burn hotly but he forces his face up, kissing along your jaw as he does.

His eyes crease open as he pulls back and Steve keens at the sight of you, his plush lips parting in a soft pant. Fuck, what was wrong with him? Normally he’d be still murmuring filthy things into your skin, marking up your neck while his hips roll into you, all does that feel good? and oh, it does when you moan in response.

Instead, he’s the one coming apart and beyond his words. You scrape your hand through his hair again and leave it cupped sweetly on his jaw, your eyes watching closely. Swatching your thumb across his cheek, you moan lightly, “Wanna -uh- wanna see your face, baby— love your pretty face,”

Something tightens up in Steve’s tummy, heat flourishing up his spine and he whimpers loudly, the roll of his hips turning the rapid, jerky thrusts in a moment. Skin slaps against skin and you make the cutest noise at the change of pace. It feels so good—too good. He feels too close, his pleasure scratching the edge of release.

Then you stutter out a breathy, “I love you, Steve,” and the coil in his stomach snaps without warning.

Steve gasps loudly and his entire body tightens, his face burying itself in you neck as his hips fuck into your snug cunt desperately. He all but collapses onto you, his hands curling around your waist tightly as he lets out a string of pathetically whiny noises, coming undone far too quickly.

It takes a moment for you to realise what’s happened— to figure out exactly why Steve suddenly sinks him cock into you with fervor and is whimpering in your ear. He’s trembling lightly you realise, as your arms sweep down his back, letting him fuck through his orgasm.

The pleasure of it drags out and by the time it tapers out, mortification begins to set in. Steve’s only glad he’s hidden his face so you can’t see his flaming cheeks. Fuck. Fuck. He’s never finished that fast before.

“I’m so sorry, you just feel— and you said—” He starts, voice sounding wrecked.

“Don’t apologise,” you interrupt sweetly. You stroke down his back soothingly and Steve can’t help but shiver. He groans loudly.

“Don’t apologise for finishing after 1 minute like a 16 years old virgin?” He asks, going for sarcastic but failing with the embarrassment tinting his tone.

You can’t help but giggle, hand still sweeping over his back comfortingly as you say, “I don’t think that was even a minute, babe.”

Steve groans louder, attempting to press his face further into your neck and nipping at it when you laugh a little louder. You’re being way too sweet about this. Steve’s not sure he can ever show his face again.

“I’m banning you from saying ‘i love you’ in bed,” He says, the words muffled against your skin. You huff another laugh, grinning, and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Boo.” You pout, knowing he’s joking completely. You’re still throbbing and aching for him to keep moving but you know you only have to be patient. He’ll fuck you just as you need it. “You’re no fun.”

“I used to have stamina,” He whines. “What have you done to me?”

You chuckle again, turning and pressing a kiss to his temple as best you can. “Turned you full loverboy. Soon enough, any time I say I love you, you’ll pop a boner.”

From within you, you feel the soft twitch of his dick and Steve’s breath hitches again. He finally digs his face out of your neck, a serious furrow between his brows. “Don’t even joke about that!”

#after many many moons…. a wild jay appears #i lied i wrote those two fics not that long ago #sorry it’s more lovey and less subby!#i’m in my lovergirl era almost always #anon #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #jay writes #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve smut #wrote this while high so if there’s mistakes take it up with my manager

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novaursa · 4 months ago

Text

The Wolf's Flame

- Summary: When you take your son flying, Cregan keeps fires warm for your return.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is only daughter of Rhaenyra, has silver hair and violet eyes and is bonded to a dragon. These events happen after Fires That Never Freeze. To read all parts in chronological order, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @daeryna @21-princess

Your fingers gently trace the downy softness of Alysane's silver hair, a mirror of your own. Her tiny eyelids flutter as she breathes steadily against your chest, her warmth a comfort in the quiet of the nursery. The light filtering through the windows casts a soft glow, making the strands of her hair shimmer like moonlight on water. She stirs slightly, letting out a small, contented sigh, and you can't help but smile, though it is tinged with sorrow.

You can still vividly recall the first time Jace held your son, Killian. He had been so careful, so reverent, as if the boy was made of the finest glass.

"He's got your spirit," Jacaerys had said, cradling Killian in his arms with a grin that could have brightened the darkest day. "And a bit of Cregan's stubbornness too, I reckon. He's going to be a strong one."

You remember how his brown eyes had softened, his usual warrior's stoicism giving way to a tenderness that was rare to see in him. You had laughed then, a light, joyful sound that echoed in the stone halls, lifting the spirits of those around you.

But now, that memory is a dagger to your heart. Jace is gone, another brother taken by the cruel hands of war and treachery. The Battle of the Gullet claimed him, like it claimed so many others, leaving behind only a hollow ache where once there had been warmth and love.

Your grip on Alysane tightens ever so slightly, as if you can protect her from the world that has already taken so much from you. She shifts in her sleep, her tiny fists clenching, and you wonder what kind of life she will have in this world that seems so determined to tear your family apart.

The door creaks open softly, and you glance up to see Cregan standing in the doorway, his gaze heavy with unspoken thoughts. His presence is a comfort, a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions. He steps into the room, his boots barely making a sound on the cold stone floor.

"She's beautiful," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion as he comes to stand beside you. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, a warm, steadying presence. "Just like her mother."

You smile faintly at his words, but it's a fragile thing, easily broken. "She reminds me of Jace," you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "The way he looked at Killian… it was as if he could see all the good in the world reflected in him."

Cregan's jaw tightens, and he nods, his eyes darkening with shared grief. "Jacaerys was a good man," he says after a moment, his voice low and filled with respect. "He would have been proud to see how you're raising our children, Y/N. Proud of the mother you've become."

His words are a balm, easing the sting of your loss, even if only slightly. You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, drawing strength from his steady heartbeat. "I just wish he were here to see them grow," you admit, your voice thick with unshed tears. "To see the family we’re building…"

Cregan wraps his arms around you, careful not to disturb Alysane, who remains peacefully asleep in your arms. "We'll make sure they know who he was," he promises, his voice strong and resolute. "We'll tell them stories of their uncle Jace, of his courage, his kindness. He won't be forgotten."

You nod, a tear finally slipping free, tracing a path down your cheek. "I just miss him so much," you confess, the words breaking like waves against the shore.

"I know," Cregan whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

For a long moment, the two of you stand there in the quiet of the nursery, holding each other close, sharing the weight of your grief. Alysane stirs again, and you look down at her, at the peaceful innocence on her tiny face. She is a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, life continues, new stories begin.

As you gaze at your daughter, you feel a small spark of determination flicker within you. You will protect her, protect Killian, and ensure they grow up knowing the love and legacy of those who came before them.

"I'll make sure they know," you whisper, more to yourself than to anyone else. "I'll make sure they remember him."

Cregan nods, his grip on you tightening just slightly, a silent promise that he will stand by you, no matter what. Together, you will keep Jace's memory alive, woven into the very fabric of your children's lives, a legacy of love and courage that even death cannot erase.

The chill of the northern wind bites at your cheeks as you stand in the courtyard of Winterfell, the ancient stones of the castle walls towering around you. The sky above is a pale, wintry blue, the kind that stretches on endlessly, promising the first snows of the season. Thraxata, your beloved dragon, is a dark silhouette against the sky, her massive form casting a shadow over the courtyard as she awaits you with the patient stillness of a creature who knows her place in the world.

Cregan stands nearby, holding Killian in his arms. Your son's violet eyes are wide with excitement, his small hands clutching at the fur-lined collar of his father's cloak. His breath comes in quick, excited puffs, visible in the cold air, as he watches you secure the last of the straps on Thraxata's saddle.

"Is Mama ready?" Killian asks, his voice high with anticipation, his gaze flicking between you and the towering dragon.

"Almost, little wolf," Cregan replies, his deep voice softened with affection. He adjusts his hold on Killian, allowing the boy to lean forward slightly, getting a better view of the magnificent creature before him.

You finish tightening the final strap and turn to face them, your heart swelling with love at the sight of your son’s eager face. "She's ready," you confirm, walking over to them with a smile that feels more natural now, more present. The cold air feels invigorating, as does the promise of the flight ahead.

Killian wiggles in Cregan’s arms, his excitement barely contained. "Can we fly now, Mama? Please?"

You chuckle at his enthusiasm and reach out to take him from Cregan, who hands him over with a tender smile. "Of course, we can, little one," you say, holding Killian close for a moment before lifting him up to press a quick kiss to his forehead. "But you must hold on tight, alright? Just like we practiced."

Killian nods eagerly, his little hands gripping your cloak as you turn to face Cregan. Your husband’s grey eyes are filled with warmth, the kind that always makes you feel grounded, no matter how high you fly. He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as he bends down to press a kiss to your lips, a slow, lingering gesture that speaks of love and longing.

"Fly safe," he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm in the cold air. "And bring him back to me in one piece."

You smile against his mouth, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "Always," you promise, your voice soft but filled with the certainty that comes from years of shared battles and shared love. "We'll be back before the sun sets."

With a final kiss, you turn back to Thraxata, your heart thudding with a mix of excitement and the familiar rush of anticipation that always accompanies a flight. You cradle Killian with one arm as you approach the great beast, who lowers her massive head in greeting, her violet eyes shimmering with intelligence and recognition.

“Hello girl,” you whisper, your free hand brushing against her polished obsidian scales, which glimmer faintly with hues of violet and blue in the sunlight. Thraxata rumbles in response, a sound that vibrates through the ground beneath your feet, as if she’s sharing in the excitement of the day.

With practiced ease, you swing yourself up onto the saddle, positioning Killian in front of you. His small hands reach out instinctively to grasp the pommel, and you secure him with a careful, reassuring grip. He giggles with delight as he feels the warmth of Thraxata’s body beneath him, the thrill of the impending flight already bubbling over.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice a blend of both motherly concern and the thrill of the adventure ahead.

“Ready!” Killian exclaims, his voice filled with a joy so pure it sends a spark of warmth through you, despite the cold.

With one last glance at Cregan, who watches you with that same steady look, you give Thraxata the command to take flight. The dragon responds immediately, her powerful wings unfurling with a sound like thunder. She launches into the air, her great body rising smoothly from the ground as the wind rushes past you, carrying the scent of pine and snow.

The world below falls away quickly as Thraxata soars upward, the chill of the wind tugging at your hair and cloak, but the cold is nothing compared to the exhilaration of the sky opening up before you. Killian’s laughter rings out, a bright, joyous sound that echoes across the open sky. He turns his head back to you, eyes wide with pure wonder. “Mama, we’re flying! Look, we’re really flying!”

You tighten your grip on him, feeling the steady thrum of Thraxata’s heart beneath you, the power of her wings carrying you higher, above the walls of Winterfell and the endless expanse of the North. “Yes, we are,” you say, your voice filled with the same awe you see reflected in your son’s eyes. “Just like I did with my mother when I was your age.”

The dragon’s flight is smooth, a testament to the bond you’ve shared since her hatching in your cradle. She’s been with you through every trial, every loss, and every victory. Now, she carries your son just as faithfully, as if she understands that he is a part of you, a continuation of your legacy.

As Winterfell grows smaller beneath you, you feel a sense of peace settle over you. Up here, with the sky stretching out infinitely above and the world below far removed, it’s easy to forget the weight of your grief, the loss of Jace, the uncertainty of the future. Up here, there is only the sound of the wind, the warmth of your son in your arms, and the steady, powerful beat of Thraxata’s wings.

You glance down at Killian, whose eyes are now glued to the horizon, a look of pure wonder on his face. “What do you see, little one?” you ask, curious to hear his thoughts.

“Everything, Mama,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe. “I can see everything.”

You smile, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “Then let’s see where the wind takes us, my brave little dragon rider.”

As Thraxata glides effortlessly through the sky, you let yourself enjoy the moment, the rare freedom it offers, the bond between mother and child, between rider and dragon. And for a time, as the cold wind whips past and the world falls away beneath you, you are simply Y/N Velaryon, a daughter of House Targaryen, a mother, a wife, and a rider of dragons. The rest of the world can wait until your feet are back on solid ground.

Cregan Stark watches as Thraxata’s obsidian-black form rises higher into the sky, the great dragon’s wings beating with a rhythm that reverberates in his chest. He stands in the courtyard of Winterfell, eyes locked on the shrinking figures of his wife and son as they ascend into the endless blue, until they become little more than a speck against the pale sky. The wind whips through the courtyard, carrying with it the scent of pine and the distant promise of snow, but Cregan remains still, his gaze unwavering as long as they are visible.

There’s a sense of awe and pride that fills him every time he watches Y/N with her dragon. Even after years of seeing her soar above the battlements, it never fails to stir something deep within him. She is a true daughter of the Targaryen line, a force of nature bound to the skies, and it amazes him that she is his—his wife, the mother of his children.

As Thraxata and his family disappear from sight, he finally lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, a mix of contentment and longing. He knows she’ll be back before long, but there’s always that small pang of separation, as if part of him takes flight with her every time she ascends into the heavens.

With a final glance at the now empty sky, Cregan turns and heads back toward the Great Keep. The stone walls of Winterfell rise imposingly around him, offering a stark contrast to the boundless sky from which he has just watched his wife and son disappear. The weight of his responsibilities returns to him with each step, grounding him in the reality of the world below.

As he enters the Great Hall, the warmth of the hearth fires greets him, a welcome change from the crisp air outside. The hall is quiet this time of day, the usual bustle of Winterfell subdued, with most of the household attending to their duties. He makes his way down the familiar corridors, his boots echoing softly on the stone floors, until he reaches the chamber where his daughter, Alysane, is being tended to.

The door is slightly ajar, and as he steps inside, he is greeted by the sight of a nursemaid cradling the infant in her arms. Alysane is awake, her bright violet eyes—so much like her mother’s—tracking the nursemaid’s movements with the curious intensity only a baby can muster. The soft, cooing lullaby being sung to her halts as the nursemaid notices Cregan’s entrance.

“Lord Stark,” she says with a respectful dip of her head, adjusting her hold on the child. “The little lady has been a delight today, though I daresay she misses her mother already.”

Cregan crosses the room in a few long strides, his gaze softening as he looks down at his daughter. “She’ll have her back soon enough,” he replies, his voice a low rumble of reassurance. “Let me hold her.”

The nursemaid carefully transfers Alysane into his arms, and Cregan feels the familiar, grounding weight of his daughter settle against his chest. She’s so small, so delicate, and yet she has a strength in her grip that makes him smile every time she reaches out to grasp his fingers. Alysane’s eyes, so much like Y/N’s, meet his, and he can’t help the rush of love that fills him.

“Have you been good for the nursemaid, little one?” he asks, his tone lighter, more playful as he gently rocks her. Alysane coos in response, her tiny fists waving in the air as if to say, Yes, Papa, I’ve been very good.

“She’s taken to her feeding well, my lord,” the nursemaid informs him, a smile tugging at her lips as she watches the interaction. “And she seems to enjoy the warmth of the fire. Perhaps she takes after her mother in that regard.”

Cregan chuckles softly, nodding. “She has the blood of the dragon in her, no doubt. But she’s a Stark, too. She’ll grow to love these cold winds, just as we do.”

He spends a few more moments with his daughter, savoring the simple joy of holding her, of feeling her small heartbeat against his chest. It’s a different kind of peace than what he feels when he’s with Y/N, but no less profound. Alysane is a part of them both, a perfect blend of fire and ice, and he treasures these quiet moments with her.

After a while, he gently hands Alysane back to the nursemaid, who resumes her gentle rocking and humming. “Thank you,” he says, his voice warm with gratitude. “Keep her close to the fire. The day will grow colder before it ends.”

The nursemaid nods. “As you wish, my lord.”

Cregan leaves the chamber, his thoughts now turning to the evening ahead. The wind outside has picked up, and he knows Y/N and Killian will appreciate a warm welcome when they return. He heads toward the Great Hall once more, this time with purpose in his stride. The fires need to be tended, more wood brought in, and the hearths stoked to a roaring blaze. Winterfell might be a cold, unforgiving place at times, but it was also a home—a sanctuary for his family—and he would see to it that they returned to warmth and comfort.

As he reaches the Great Hall, he calls out to a nearby servant, a young man quick on his feet. “We’ll need more wood for the hearths,” Cregan instructs, his tone commanding but not unkind. “Bring in what you can carry and see to it that the fires are stoked high.”

The servant nods eagerly, hurrying off to fulfill the request. Cregan moves to the main hearth himself, where the fire is already burning but not nearly to the level he desires. He takes up a heavy iron poker and stirs the embers, watching as the flames leap higher, their glow reflecting off the stone walls.

As the fire roars to life, filling the hall with a warm, golden light, he steps back, satisfied with his work. The crackling of the flames, the scent of burning wood, and the comforting heat are all reminders of why he fights, why he endures. It’s for these moments—for the quiet, peaceful evenings after the storms have passed, when his family is safe and together under one roof.

He can almost hear Killian’s excited laughter already, the way his little boy’s voice fills the hall with joy whenever they return from a flight. He imagines Y/N’s smile, the way it lights up her entire face, and how her silver hair catches the firelight as she steps inside, Killian in tow, both of them flushed from the cold and the exhilaration of the sky.

The servant returns with an armful of wood, and Cregan helps him stack it near the hearth. The warmth is already spreading through the hall, driving away the chill that had begun to settle as the day waned. He can feel the sense of home building around him, the very thing he’s fought to protect, to preserve for those he loves most.

With the fires now blazing, he takes a moment to himself, standing in the center of the hall and letting the warmth seep into his bones. It’s a simple pleasure, but one he doesn’t take for granted. The flickering light of the flames plays across his face, casting shadows that dance along the stone walls.

He glances toward the door, knowing it will soon swing open, admitting his wife and son back into the safety and warmth of Winterfell. He’s ready to greet them, to hear about their flight, to listen to Killian’s breathless recounting of the view from above and to feel the reassurance of Y/N’s presence beside him.

As he waits, the fire crackling at his back, Cregan Stark feels a deep sense of contentment. There’s a storm coming, as there always is in the North, but for now, his world is warm, his heart full, and his family is safe. And that is all he could ever ask for.

The warmth of the fire mingles with the lingering heat of your bodies, still flush from the passion that had just consumed you both. You lie nestled in the soft, thick furs of your bed, the heavy pelts providing a cocoon of warmth against the biting cold that lurks just beyond the walls of Winterfell.

Cregan's strong arm is draped around you, his hand tracing lazy, soothing patterns on your bare back. Your head rests on his broad chest, rising and falling with each steady breath he takes. The intimacy of the moment is profound, the kind of peace that only comes after such intensity, when every barrier has been stripped away, leaving only raw, unfiltered affection in its wake.

His fingers slide through your silver hair, untangling the strands that had become tousled during your lovemaking, and you feel a contented sigh escape your lips. The connection between you is tangible, a bond forged not only in love but in shared trials, in the promises whispered in the dark and the strength you find in one another.

"Sometimes," you begin softly, your voice barely more than a murmur in the quiet of the room, "sometimes I wish I could be down there, in the thick of it, fighting alongside my mother. Facing the Greens with fire and blood, like we were meant to."

Cregan’s hand stills on your back for a moment before he resumes his gentle caresses. He knows how deeply the conflict weighs on you, how much you struggle with the separation from your mother and the battles you were born to fight. "You’re a warrior at heart, Y/N," he says, his voice low and full of understanding. "It’s in your blood, in your very soul. But you’re here now, and there’s strength in that too—in being the heart of this family, in raising our children with the knowledge of who they are and where they come from."

You nod against his chest, taking comfort in his words. It’s not easy to be away from the fight, to know that your family is out there, risking their lives while you remain here, safe in the North. But Cregan is right—there is strength in what you’re doing here, in the life you’ve built together, in the legacy you’re creating.

"I know," you whisper, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his chest, right above his heart. "I know. But I’m grateful, Cregan. For this, for you, for everything we’ve found here in Winterfell. It’s more than I ever imagined for myself."

He shifts slightly, turning so that he can look down at you, his grey eyes dark and intense as they meet yours. There’s a tenderness there, a love so deep it nearly takes your breath away. "You’ve brought light to this place, Y/N," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "You’ve made it a home, not just for me, but for everyone within these walls. You are the heart of Winterfell now, just as much as you were born both of Dragonstone and Driftmark. And I will always be grateful for that, for you."

You smile up at him, a warmth blooming in your chest that has nothing to do with the fire. "And I, for you, my love," you reply softly, lifting your hand to trace the strong line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard beneath your fingers. "I never thought I could find such peace, such happiness, in a place so far from the warmth of the South. But here with you, it feels like I’ve found something even better. Something that feels like home."

He leans down to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, one that speaks of love and promises, of the future you’ll face together. When he pulls back, his gaze is serious, his expression thoughtful. "Winter will come soon," he says, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "The snow will fall heavier, and the North will sleep beneath its blanket of white. But when the spring sun melts the snow, when the rivers flow again and the ice recedes, the North will rise. And we will march south, to deliver the justice that has long been owed. Just as I promised you, Y/N. The time will come."

You see the resolve in his eyes, the fire of his conviction, and it stirs something within you—a spark of hope, of purpose. You’ve always known that the North was a place of endurance, of long winters and even longer memories. But with Cregan by your side, you also know it is a place of honor, of loyalty, and of promises kept.

"And I will be ready," you say, your voice firm with determination. "We will be ready. For whatever comes."

He nods, the tension in his expression easing as he presses another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if to seal the promise between you. "But for now," he murmurs against your skin, "we have this. These moments, this peace. And we will hold on to it for as long as we can."

You close your eyes, letting his warmth and the steady beat of his heart lull you into a state of calm. The world outside can wait for now—the battles, the struggles, the uncertainties of the future. Here, wrapped in Cregan’s arms, you find solace, a reprieve from the weight of the world, and the strength to face whatever comes next.

As you drift off to sleep, cocooned in the warmth of the furs and the security of Cregan’s embrace, you feel a deep sense of contentment settle over you. The future may hold its challenges, but in this moment, all is well. You are together, and that is all that matters.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd cregan #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark

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lalunanymph · 6 months ago

Text

TOAST TO CLICHES IN A DARK PAST

not even another man's ring on your finger can stop sylus from taking what's rightfully his

warnings: fem!reader, ex-boyfriend sylus, toxic!sylus, mean!sylus, reader is engaged 🤭, cheating, oral s/ex, unprotected s/ex, collars, possessiveness, blank and ageless blogs dni

dawn says: i wrote this with one hand can you tell.... ALSO surprise at the end wbjwhjdkf ;)

“Hey, it’s me.” You can almost picture the scowl on his perfect features. “Let me in.” If patience was a virtue, waiting for another moment must be his vice.

Another sharp rap on the door shatters your peaceful evening.

“Y/N, I’m here for my things. Open the door.”

You decide it’s either now or never to get this over with him.

Standing from the couch, you muster the scariest scowl you can plaster on and answer the door. “I heard you for the first time.”

Right at your threshold, a 6 feet 2 menace stands clad in his sweatpants and compression black shirt, biker jacket hanging from his tall frame, those vermillion eyes raking up and down your figure, suddenly making you feel too self-conscious.

You’re in a pair of gray shorts and a tank top, nothing too fancy or scandalous, yet there’s a pressing heat behind his gaze which makes your skin flush like you’re presenting yourself before him in a risque piece of lingerie.

Your mouth curls around his name like it's a cud you can’t wait to spit out. “Sylus.”

He tips his head forward. “Y/N.��

The both of you don’t say a word, and you feel much too exposed. Anyone could pass by and see you speaking to him. The ring on your finger is heavy, and you subconsciously hide it behind your back, not wanting him to see it and comment.

“Nice rock.” Too late. Your scowl deepens and you huff a sigh.

“You said you forgot your insurance file? That’s not like you.” The sneer that carves your face is nothing in comparison to his smirk.

“I’m here for it and nothing else,” he clarifies, sweeping his gaze over you as he sweeps past you. “Don’t you hope for anything else.”

“Wh—hey,” you trail after him, spluttering indignantly. It’s just like your ex-boyfriend to walk in and claim the space as his own; large build and larger than life personality swallowing all the air in your lungs and in this room.

He plants his hands on his hips, surveying the newly decorated living room with cool distaste. “Looks like your plan to scrub me clean from your life worked, sweetie,” the nickname drips from his lips with condescension. “It’s so… clinical.”

He’s mocking you. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and your hands clench to fists by your side.

“We love the combination of gray and white,” you say past gritted teeth. “The red-black abomination you had going on was an absolute eyesore.”

“Oh,” he flickers his gaze back to you, completely disinterested. “I see. I guess you didn’t just get engaged to some random schmuck to get back at me.”

The ring around your finger is heavy enough, tempting you to smash it through his mouth. You scoff.

“You’ve never changed, Sylus. Always mean—always a loser.”

With a single word, you find yourself pushed against the wall, your ex towering over you. The smell of his rich leather and spiced cologne swims in your head, driving you dizzy. Heat engulfs you as his arms come up on either side of your head.

“You know how this works, sweetie,” his smooth, rich tone bathes you in that blessed timber, making a shiver crawl up your spine. “We fight, we break up. You text me, I come over and—”

He’s much too close. Too overwhelming.

Sylus waits for you to finish his sentence.

“Come on now, kitten,” he purrs. “What is it we do whenever you come crawling back to me?”

You refuse to answer him, despite the ache spreading right at your core. You huff and turn your face to the side, finding refuge from those searing darkened eyes.

“You can’t do this to me anymore, Sylus. I feel nothing for you.”

“Nothing, huh?” If there’s one thing your ex loves more than this toxic rollercoaster you want no part of anymore, it’s the challenge of getting you back on it.

“I’m engaged,” you emphasize, a sinking realization of this mistake washing over you. You should’ve never allowed him to come back.

“This flimsy thing?” He plucks your left hand from your side, a sneer curling on his mouth. “Two weeks. You thought you could replace me in just two weeks?”

“We were friends—”

“He can’t treat you like me.” With the bold declaration, Sylus grows more audacious. He bends his head forward, eyes close and chest rising—inhaling your sugary vanilla body wash straight from your neck. “Can’t put you in your place like I do, sweetie.”

Your eyes involuntarily flutter shut and Sylus takes this chance to pounce on your jugular. “Where’s my insurance file, sweetie? Do you know?”

Vaguely, you recall seeing it in your bedroom. “It’s in ou—my room.”

Sylus doesn’t comment on the slip up, corners of his lips twitching. “Well? What’re you waiting for? Go get it for me, sweetie.”

Your nostrils flare, anger coursing through you. Does this guy think you’re his maid or something?

“Go get it yourself.”

With Sylus, everything is a game. A struggle for power. He snorts and turns his gaze to the expensive Rolex on his wrist. “When does he get off?” Your ex’s sneer deepens.

Knowing who he’s talking about, you match his energy with an eye roll. “In a few hours—”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Throughout this little bantering session, Sylus never once lost his cool; calm and teasing like the asshole he usually is. This time a flash of anger sears through his tone and you falter, the repressed heat inside you lifting its head to scent the sticky sweet danger clinging in the air.

Warning, the nerves in your body scream. Stay alert.

You shut the voice down, crossing your arms. “Or, what?” You try to mimic him with one brow raised. “What’re you going to do to me?”

Sylus doesn’t immediately react. That’s why he’s a risk to deal with—one wrong move and you could go falling back into the wolf’s den. He bides his time, staring at the silver rings adorning his slender fingers, knuckles split and bruised from his love of violence in the ring.

“The sooner you get the file for me, the faster I will get out of your life,” he smoothly interjects. “Unless… you want me?”

He stands up lightning fast, cornering you again with his staggering presence, making you take one step back.

You touch your throat on instinct, and Sylus chuckles.

“What? Cat got your tongue, kitten?” The use of your favorite nickname sends a wave of heat rising inside of you, the flush warm and demanding on your cheeks. Sylus doesn’t reach out to touch you, but he doesn’t need to if he wants to turn you on.

One look. A careless brush against the back of your thigh and you’re aching all over.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” A drop of sympathy colors the waters of his deception, and your shoulders loose their stiff edges, walls coming down a fraction. “No one can do those things to you… make you feel like that…”

He’s speaking in riddles and it’s successfully scrambling your mind.

“Sylus—”

“Turn around.”

You inadvertently raise the stakes by shaking your head.

“What did you do, kitten?” His voice is smooth, but underneath, there’s a zing of livid distaste. Sylus never likes it when you defy him.

His jaw clenches, but he’s focused on the long game. Sylus hums. “Come on. We shouldn’t waste anymore time. Take me to your bedroom.”

The shivers wrack you tenfold and it’s borderline criminal to bring your ex back into the room where you laid with and fucked your fiance. Electricity crackles in the empty spaces, and you try your best to ignore the current sparking on your tongue.

“Check under the bed,” Sylus suggests, doing nothing but stand by the wall, arms folded. Expecting you to pull the most weight.

You pause, sending him a look of indignation. “Why’re you ordering me around? You do it.”

Instead of adopting a look of contrition or remembering his manners like any normal person would, your psychopath of an ex shakes his head. He starts to shrug off his jacket; enjoys how wide your eyes become when he removes his shirt and tosses it to the ground.

“Sy—” you hiss, but he interrupts you with a raised brow.

You turn mute, bunching your fingers together in front of you, a curious part of you wondering what he’ll do next—the depths of depravity he will drag you back into.

“You don’t get it, do you?” He steps closer and closer, pushing you to the edge of the bed where you have nowhere to escape.

“I know you, sweetie. I can sense when you’re excited. I own you. You want this—you want me.” You drop your gaze, suddenly afraid of him looking into your eyes. Sylus tastes of your impending surrender right on the tip of his tongue. Call him a genius or a madman, but nobody can call him ignorant to his girl’s needs.

“I can give you what you want. What you’re craving for.” It’s too much—his presence, his voice, this smoldering heat. You feel like you’re going to combust.

Without thinking straight, you press your hands flat on his pecs, trying to push him away, but all it does is make him grab your wrists, locking you in place.

“Don’t,” he warns, velvety smooth with his threats. Your white-haired devil of an ex smirks at your wide eyes, and chuckles.

“Come on, sweetie,” he leans in closer, gathers both your hands in one of his own and tilts your head up to face him. “Look at me—look at me. Come on. Give me a kiss.”

He coaxes you with a gentle nudge, but it’s enough to send a battering ram through your defenses. The tension—so thick that you can cut it with a knife—comes to a jolting deadend and you have no choice but to give in.

You fold, parting your lips and Sylus goes in straight for the kill.

Hot kisses devour your soft moans, sending shudders all over your skin as goosebumps erupt everywhere; Sylus kisses you with bruising accuracy, hell bent on getting his revenge.

No one dares to leave him unless he declares it, and you’ve committed the biggest sin out there by throwing away his love.

He pries your lips apart, plundering his tongue to tap and caress the roof of your mouth, running the tip over your teeth and twining messily with your own tongue; reducing you to sporadic moans and twitches. Encased in his arms, you feel small and helpless, a prey who has fallen right into her beloved predator’s jaws.

“Come here, sweetie.” Sylus plops himself on the edge of the bed, and brings you right onto his lap. You’re woozy and lightheaded when he starts to paw at your shorts, dragging it down—exposing the sweet white cotton hiding his favorite pussy.

Sylus tugs your panties down unceremoniously, and you barely have time to steel yourself when he murmurs, “How dare you say no to me?”

A heavy hand lands right on your right cheek, jolting you forward. Your cry is part ecstasy, part pain.

It rebounds around the room, echoing your betrayal when he sends another hard spank on your left cheek, following it up with the right one; white heat engulfs you all over and your ass is on fire.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “See, sweetie? You’re wet. You’re leaking alllll over my thigh.” He drags the words and your humiliation out, plunging two thick fingers and dragging them through your folds. Sylus dangles his drenched fingers right in front of you and chuckles.

Something hard pokes your lower belly when he shifts you into a seating position, tilting your face up. The look of hunger he wears unhinges the last of your restraints and this time, you’re the one who tugs him by his hair, smashing your mouth hungrily to his.

The wet smacks and muffled groans of lips on lips. Moans. Bodies on fire. You’re rubbing yourself all over him.

Get on your knees, he orders feverishly, grabbing your hair and pushing you down in between his legs. Suck my cock. Go on, kitten. Suck my cock and make me feel good—you know you want to.

You obey him—of course you do.

You can never forget the taste of him when he hits your tongue, like musk and man, saturating flavor making your eyes roll back in your head. The dopamine kicks in and Sylus swears he sees little pink hearts right in your eyes when you take him down your entire throat.

Who is more insane��the psycho, or the one who dares to love him?

You’ve always been a little loose in the head, but this definitely takes the cake.

How you’re willing to risk everything—your stable life, your safe home, your fiance’s love—all for a man who plays with you like you’re his favorite toy.

For a man who will never tell you he loves you or wants to marry you.

Like he’s reading your thoughts, Sylus gives a strained chuckle.

“Stop thinking about him. Just focus on me.”

His abs undulate under your palms, and he eyes the twinkling ring on your finger with distaste.

One way or another, he’s going to get you to remove it for him someday.

Until then, he knows the perfect counterpart to that asshole's claim on you.

“Stop.” He pulls you from his throbbing cock, a smidge of pride staining his ego when he sees your swollen lips and the ravenous look in your eye. “Go and get your collar, sweetie.”

It’s a risk to bring up the one item you didn’t toss into his box of belongings. But, his gamble comes back as a win when your eyes sharpen with want.

“Yeah,” he feeds off your reactions, an incubus desperate for your light. “Yeah, you still have it, don’t you, kitten?”

The answer is painfully obvious on your face.

“Why don’t you go and grab it?”

You move with uncertainty, but this time, Sylus allows it. He lets you feel through your emotions, knows the erotic pulse of submission must be tearing you into shreds—warring with your desire to stay faithful to some poor cuck.

Sylus knows all this because he knows you; knows what you love, what you hate. How you taste at different times of the day. Your favorite flowers, fast food order, your preferred poison on the weekend. The cadences of your breath when you fall asleep in his arms. What your shampoo smells like when it lingers on his sheets.

He is, after all, the best owner you could ask for.

And you’re still obviously, undoubtedly, and painfully in love with him.

Your throat bobs with a hard swallow, but you don’t defy him. He swats your ass with a cheeky spank when you stand and shuffle out of the room.

“Atta girl,” he praises once you come back with your collar in hand. It’s a little dusty, but the leather is still supple.

Sylus runs his fingers over it, flickering his gaze to you.

You’re kneeling right between his thighs, head bent, hair gathered in one hand to expose the back of your neck. Waiting for him to reclaim you.

Sylus doesn’t take such submission lightly.

This collar—proof of his quiet yet powerful devotion and fondness for you—is more of a commitment than that stupid band around your finger could ever be.

It’s his promise to always look out for you. Care for you. Protect you.

Love you.

Though the words don’t dislodge from the grasps of his ego, Sylus has and always will love you.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, dragging one finger down the nape of your neck. Your shudder makes an unwilling smile curve on his lips, and he snaps the leather collar around your throat, giving it a few good tugs to see how tight it is.

You turn and stretch towards him, planting a soft kiss on his lips as gratitude—a muscle reflex for the many times he’s collared you.

Sylus deepens the kiss, running his hands through your hair and grabbing a fistful of it, directing you back towards his throbbing, leaky cock.

You lick at a clear bead of precum slipping down, flatten your tongue to run it over your favorite prominent vein. Sylus leans back against his forearms, watching his ex-lover pleasure him on another man’s bed.

The band around his self-control is slipping, and he can’t hold back a low, drawn out groan when you suckle on the flushed, mushroom tip.

“That’s it,” he grunts, low and commanding. Such a pretty girl you are—make me feel good, kitten. You’re doing so, so well.

His voice is an aphrodisiac in itself, making you flush hotly. Your core throbs with neglect as you pay full attention to sucking him off, putting his pleasure above yours.

Sylus isn’t stingy with his praises or affections: caressing your hair, patting your cheek, fingering your collar when you get more worked up over sucking him off.

You’re so messy it hurts.

Drool dripping from the corners of your swollen lips. Precum smeared all over your cheeks. Eyes low and lustful—his personal wet dream came to life.

You’re halfway bobbing your head up and down his slick shaft when he stops you, gestures for you to come back up for air.

In a swift movement, he has you under him, legs tightly wound around his narrow waist; forearms roped with muscles on either side of your head.

His red eyes bore into yours, watching your reactions with heated attention.

Your gasp as he rips your tank top off, kissing and suckling your plush tits and nibbling on your sensitive nipples until you feel positively ripe for the picking.

He’s tempted to leave a mark on your neck, but you know him well enough too, and shake your head with a cute little teary, “N-no. Don’t.”

Sylus will let it slide—just this once.

The warm expanse of your bare skin opens under his palms like the bright evening sky outside.

He savors your hitched gasp that melts into a sultry groan once he stretches you out with his girthy tip. Another inch, another cry.

Sylus falls right into your seduction and embrace, bottoming right to the hilt; his hips clip with yours, lips mere inches from your parted ones.

He devours you with hot, open mouth kisses. From your pouty lower lip to your curved cupid’s bow, he traces your mouth to memory with his own. You taste like home, he wants to tell you, but doesn’t. He’s never had a home to compare you to.

Sylus the orphan. The vagabond. The corrupt.

Molded deep in your body, he supposes this is the closest to a home he has.

Your fingers twine with his above your head, another hand tangled right in his frosty white hair.

Languid rolls of his hips. Your own try to keep up—meeting him in the middle.

Say you’re mine, he growls. Say it, kitten. Say it and I’ll make you feel so good.

“Yours,” you hiccup, unable to peel your eyes off of him.

I’m yours, Sylus.

His thrusts send shocks of pleasure through your body, hitting the sensitive spots inside of you and making you flinch like he’s touching an open wound.

Over and over again. His mouth grazes yours. You don’t hesitate to swallow his kisses.

You’re clinging to me like a vine, kitten. He nuzzles your hair, your neck. Smearing his lips all over your face.

His collar jingles around your neck, muffled metallic clicks mingling with the sloppy sounds of two bodies meeting again like the sea to the shore.

Your body runs hot, flushing and going taut under his own sturdy one.

Unfurling like a flower, your release is about to wash over you like a crashing wave. He talks you through it, going yes baby come for me come for your owner I love you I owe you you’re mine forever come back to me I can make you so happy, sweetie.

You’re shuddering like someone’s run a voltage through you, holding onto him as tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

No, stop this—you can still stop this! Your mind screams but your body doesn’t listen.

Heat sparks at your fingertips, your world going hot white.

His name tumbles from your lips, your body cramping and pulsing out his claim over you in shaking tremors; knowing exactly who it belongs to.

Fragments of your mind fall around this soft bed, and he gathers you into the tight seam of his embrace. His warmth comes next, filling you up, the walls shaking in your periphery.

That’s it, kitten. He’s quivering, too, you notice, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. You belong to me.

He switches to his back, and you’re sprawled across his chest, breathing heavily.

Sylus holds you like this for a long time until your rapid heartbeat steadies to the rhythm of his breath. He says nothing and you wonder what plagues his mind.

Though quiet and pondering, his fingers run up and down the curve of your spine, drawing random patterns.

The quiet and calm this lull brings could make you drift off, if it wasn’t for the fact that your fiance would be back anytime soon.

As if he reads your mind, Sylus helps you unsnap your collar, pushing the leather circlet into your hands. He doesn’t meet your gaze while he cleans you up, dressing you again to decency.

His silence follows from the bedroom to the front door before he exhales a laugh, breaking the melancholic spell of this mistake.

“I forgot to take my file.”

It’s a thinly veiled excuse; another loophole presenting itself as a casual observation.

Those red eyes are soft when you meet them, and if you look closely, you might see them wavering slightly with hope.

You curl your hand over the door handle, wondering if he can tell just how badly you’re trying not to tremble when you say:

“Come back tomorrow for it.”

Sylus’ broad shoulders relax and his smile is brittle with hope.

He doesn’t kiss you ‘goodbye’ though you can tell he’s thinking about it when he flickers those vermillion orbs to your mouth.

When he leaves—bike roaring down the driveway and out of your life again—you lean against the closed door, bucking into the sadness building inside of you like an explosion waiting to happen.

Tears chase down your face, the ring on your left hand burning against your skin as you press your hands to your mouth to muffle your wails.

You don’t know what strength possesses you but you stumble to the couch, curling yourself on the plush cushions as you try to erase how sweet his lips tasted on yours.

Your collar was quickly chucked under the bed, though you can feel its siren call demanding for more.

Demanding for him.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying, coming back to your senses once you hear the door swinging open.

The familiar footsteps which once gave you pure joy fills you with dread when he walks into the foyer, removing his coat and scarf to hang it up. His movements are methodical—clinical, as Sylus once said.

That name sparks a wave of pain through your soul. You can't think of him—not right now.

You blink the tears away though it’s for naught when they wouldn’t stop welling in your puffy eyes.

Your fiance sighs deeply and you’re reminded of how stressed he’s been lately; saving lives and working late night shifts.

He hums under his breath as he rounds the corner, taken aback by your intense stare.

He breaks out into a smile which falls when he sees the watery look in your eyes; your runny nose and swollen lips.

“Darling?” Those emerald eyes waver when he notices your trembling lower lip. “Did something happen—?”

His name burns through your lips like it’s a forbidden curse because how dare you evoke him when you were just chanting some other man’s name a few hours ago?

“Zayne… I have to tell you something…”

— please don't ask for part 2 there won't be one lol reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <333

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate, take elements of my story and claim it for your own across other sites.

#🦢 writes #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus smut #lnds smut #sylus qin #lnds sylus #sylus x you #sylus drabbles #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace mc #love and deepspace x reader

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endlessthxxghts · 9 months ago

Text

Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

masterlist | notifs blog

It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town.

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason.

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you.

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction.

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it.

You are worth it.

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.”

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you.

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge.

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?”

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up.

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you.

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of.

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you.

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts.

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements.

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter.

“I said—”

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm.

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you.

Well, apparently not everyone.

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back.

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips.

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him.

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines.

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him.

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music goin’ unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life.

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.”

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you.

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take.

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now.

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom.

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming.

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless.

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself.

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking.

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered.

Fuck.

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you.

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?”

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics.

You quirk your eyebrow at him.

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure.

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries.

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here.

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps.

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it.

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him.

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to.

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout.

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him.

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you.

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming.

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze.

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again.

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend.

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces.

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest.

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss.

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks.

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?”

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)

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pprodsuga · 1 year ago

Text

i’m serious about you

summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date

note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!

i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!

warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns

masterlist :)

“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”

You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.

“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”

“Do you like this bakery?”

Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.

“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”

He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.

You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.

You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.

Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.

This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.

The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.

“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”

“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.

He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”

“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”

Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.

“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”

A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.

He panics.

“I must be special.”

Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.

“Yeah, you are.”

Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.

He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.

You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.

“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”

Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x oc #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x oc #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru fluff #ahhh it’s been so long since i’ve written fanfics and it’s 2am #very sorry for any poor writing choices #but i hope you liked it!#<3 #my writing

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luvismenu · 2 months ago

Text

Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.”

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jjk x y/n #jungkook x y/n #fanfiction

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sageispunk · 3 months ago

Text

red lipstick (18+)

↳ "Don't let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life"

pairing: Maintenance Man! Terry Richmond x blackOC! Alisha Bryce

wordcount: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, oral sex (m receiving), use of handcuffs, switch! Terry & OC, Daddy kink, lipstick kink, messy bjs, pouty desperate!Terry bc I wanted to

A/N: this is like basically a random part for this AU I've been fixated on for a minute, still not sure if I want to do chronological series or just a bunch of loosely connected oneshots but I'll figure that out l8rrrrr!!! lmk in the comments if you enjoyed this, also pls like + reblog, feel free to follow my notif blog @sageispunklibrary for updates!!!

“C’mon baby, you can do better than that.”

Alisha kept her gaze on the man, down on her knees in the fancy, red, low-cut dinner dress he’d bought for tonight. The lights were low and her mouth was full, throat nearly stuffed with her lover’s manhood. He sat on her sofa, leaned back with his bare thighs spread apart on the orange velvet, one arm thrown across the back as if he owned the place.

Terry was big–thick and long, unforgiving. She held her hands together down in front of her, wrists bound together by the fuzzy black cuffs he found while peeking through her nightstand drawer earlier in the day, as new as the day she bought them.

She hummed as she took most of him down her throat, leaving only about an inch of his warm brown skin exposed to the chilled air. She could tell that wasn’t enough for Terry, not right now at least. He was desperate, aching for a release and she would be just that.

She felt his hand on the back of her head loosely tangle itself in her long brown locs, fingertips lightly massaging into her scalp. With a sigh from her nose, she closed her eyes and relaxed herself, allowing him to stroke his hips up into her throat, bringing her precious cherry-tinted lips just a little closer to his base each time. Saliva dribbled out from the corners of her mouth, dripping down off her chin and onto his heavy balls. She could feel her thighs sticking together, the heat between them building with each passing second.

“You can do it, mama…take Daddy’s dick down that throat…”

His sweet, daunting voice echoed in her mind, keeping her grounded in the moment. She loved it when he talked to her like this, so rough and dominating–manly. Not to mention using the handcuffs that had been sitting in her drawer for months, brand new and awaiting the perfect opportunity. Now, her dreams were being fulfilled. It was everything she was missing with Isaiah, and that fact only made her more eager to please him, pushing herself to her limits every time they fucked, and then some.

“Look at me, Lisha.”

Terry watched as she obeyed his command, breathless as he took in the scene before him. This perfect, nasty, brown-eyed beauty kneeling for him, worshiping his dick like it was all she’d ever needed. All that consumed her mind, day and night. He knew that it was, the same feelings growing within her and dictating her every move, he felt in himself. They were on the same level again, and he’d be damned if another motherfucker got in between them after this.

He couldn’t help the moans that evaded him as she finally throated his entire length, not breaking eye contact as she nuzzled her nose into his trimmed pubes. For over twelve years, the man’s life had been structured around maintaining self-control and mental strength, but there was nothing or no one on this planet that made him feel as weak as Alisha did in this very moment.

His bottom lip found itself clenched tightly between his pearly whites, a crease growing between his eyebrows while he took everything she gave him. She pulled up off his dick, slowly sliding back up with red lips, glossy with spit and precum.

“I missed you.”

Alisha didn’t plan to say those words, but her nerves were soothed when he reciprocated the statement, his gruff voice hitting her ears and vibrating through her chest. She loved the strain in his voice, in his eyes, knowing that she had his tough exterior breaking down made her feel…powerful. On top of the world.

Terry’s other hand came to her cheek, caressing her gently as he stared into her eyes, slightly pouting at the sight of his rock hard dick standing up right next to her face.

He subconsciously made it jump, stealing her attention away. She watched it twitch in front of her, a hungry look growing in her dark eyes as her mouth watered. She needed to feel him stretch her again, her lips, her jaw, her throat. She just needed him inside again.

Alisha leaned forward and her pink tongue darted out, licking a slow trail up the vein on the underside of his dick. She circled the tip of her tongue around the throbbing head, specifically avoiding his needy, leaking hole. Terry groaned from above, losing his restraint the more she avoided his most sensitive spot. His head was filled with nothing but echoes of pleas, anguished cries for her to relieve him. All he needed was her tongue.

She smiled, watching his thighs flex and feeling the grip of his fingers tighten in her roots. She pressed her lips against the tip, firm enough to leave a smudge of red lipstick against the brown flesh. A mark of her love. Craning her neck down, she aimed for a new spot: his balls, heavy and full of cum that he’d reserved for her and her only. Over three weeks apart and he found that nothing matched his freak quite like she did…not even his own hand would suffice.

Terry bucked his hips up when he felt her soft, sticky lips on his sack, leaving yet another beautiful stain. “Lishaaa, fuck!”

He was supposed to be the one in charge at this moment, yet he felt like he had the least power, even with Alisha in handcuffs. He threw his head back, a loud groan escaping his lips as he found himself writhing, unable to take the teasing. This girl had his goddamn toes curling just from kissing on his balls.

“Look at me, Terry.”

Her sweet voice met his ears, gentle and delicate, with a hint of deception laced into her words. He returned his gaze to the woman, seeking some sort of solace in her deep brown orbs. As big and tough as he was, he was not prepared at all for how Alisha wanted to play with him tonight. For the last couple weeks, all he’d fantasized about was breaking her down all across her place…leaving his mark on her, in her, all around her.

But here she was, beating him right to it.

Alisha sat up on her knees a bit, not bothering to fix the cleavage spilling from her dress before leaning forward to plant her lips on the skin near his hip. They both stared at her nearly perfect lip print, eyes low and full of want. “Baby–”

“Take these cuffs off me, Terry. Let me take care of you like you take care of me, please.”

Terry paused, searching her eyes for any hints of mischief but he came up short. Sitting forward on the sofa, he brought his hands down in between them, pulling hers up into his lap. He clasped both her wrists with his left hand, using his right to take his chain off, a shiny silver key dangling in front of her greedy eyes like the world’s last golden ticket.

It was as if time slowed down, the air seemed thick and heavy, a cloud of desire extinguishing any sense of hesitation in the pair. They both watched as the key slid inside, twisting and releasing the lock with a soft click. The cuffs fell to the floor but Alisha’s hands remained, suspended in his hold. Terry’s eyes came back up to meet hers, intense and unrelenting as he pulled her closer.

He swallowed down her gasp when their lips met, his eyes fluttering shut as he relished in both the softness and the slight taste of himself. Terry’s tongue wriggled into her mouth, passionately dancing with hers in a battle for dominance. They moaned into one another, lips melding together seamlessly, a reminder of how perfect they are together.

Alisha pulled her hands from his grasp, slowly so as not to be noticed. Her slender fingers found his length, stiff and weeping for her. A thumb lightly tapped the stickiness on the head, and she grinned into the kiss at his sudden twitching. She rubbed light circles on it, attentive to the way his mouth began to fall open as she pulled back from the kiss, not bothering to slow her movements on his delicate tip. Her left hand fell back to his balls, holding them and only slightly squeezing the warm sack in her palm, just as she’d wanted to earlier.

“Does that feel good?”

His nod was barely noticeable, but she caught it. Just as well as she caught the quiver in his bottom lip when she squeezed just a bit tighter.

She kneeled down between his thighs again, bringing her face back closer to what she’d needed most. Not wanting to waste anymore time keeping him on the edge, she dived in, removing her thumb and replacing it with her hot tongue. She reached her right hand up to one of his small brown nipples, rubbing his own stickiness from her thumb into the hardened bud. Terry’s body jerked up, attempting to crumble in on itself while her hungry tongue swirled around his tip. “Ohh shiiiiitttt, Lish, please, fuck!”

Her head dropped into his lap, her other hand coming up to rest on his thigh while his dick slid into her throat with much more ease than before. She bobbed up and down, savoring his taste on her tongue and his cries in her ears. She felt so in control, taking him down to the hilt each time, moaning and drooling around his thickness like a slut.

“Baby, that shit feels–mmmm–so motherfuckin’ good, I swear to god…” Terry groaned out, his brain growing fuzzier while she went down on him like she’d been starving for his dick. She gagged and slurped and hummed around him, all the while looking up at him with those perfect, teary eyes– like a wet dream come to life. His big hands gripped the edges of the sofa while he tried to hold on to the little bit of self-control he had left.

Alisha came up once more, letting him fall out of her mouth before she refocused her attention on his balls. Both hands wrapped around his dick, steadily jerking him as she sucked and licked on his sack, not caring to wipe away the spit across her cheeks and chin. She was being messy and nasty and she didn’t give a fuck about embarrassing herself because she knew that Terry was loving this side of her as much as she did.

He palmed his face, cursing under his breath as he felt himself at the edge once again. His legs trembled as he tried to hold on, to savor the feeling of her hands and her mouth on him again after so long. There was nothing he needed more but to be surrounded in her warmth, physically and emotionally. He longed to be this close to her, this vulnerable with her, always.

She released his balls with a gentle pop!, continuing to jerk him off with both hands from the base to the tip. “Cum for me, daddy…” She stared into his eyes, finding herself lost in them, in him. “I need to taste you, please.”

Terry relaxed as her soft whispers hit his ears, the combination of her dirty words and the yearning that was revealed in her eyes helping him over that peak. “Lisha, I’m–”

She quickly put her mouth on the head as he tensed up underneath her, both his cries and her moans filling the room. The taste of his nut on her tongue had her nearly cumming herself, her thighs subconsciously grinding together as she listened to his whining above.

“Oh my god, ohmyfucking–fuckkkk…” Terry’s usual rough, baritone voice was higher now, sweet and shaky as he panted out and emptied himself in her. His vision was teary but he tried to stay focused on Alisha between his thighs. She took everything that he gave her, slowing her hands down on his dick while swallowing down nearly every drop of his seed. The filthiest image of tonight seared itself into his mind when she smiled up at him, licking the spare cum off her fingers with more smeared on her plump pink lips.

She giggled softly, watching the big man come back down to Earth, his dick softening back to its usual form. His gaze was soft now, the love he felt for her shining right through his long eyelashes. As the intensity of the moment calmed down, she became more aware of her sore knees on the carpet, but especially her bare, aching pussy underneath her dress. Terry noticed her shifting and immediately straightened up, leaning forward to pull her up into his lap. “C’mere, love..” She sat on his left thigh with her legs stretched out across his right, burying her face into his neck. “You did a good job, baby…made me feel so good, thank you.”

He spoke his praises into her hair in between kisses, rubbing a large hand up and down her exposed back. She sunk into the feeling, head still hazy but paying more attention now to what her body craved from him. Terry gently laced his fingers in her locs, pulling back to find her eyes again.

“You gon’ let me take care of you now?”

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @harmshake @uniqueoutlierblog @notapradagurl7

@planetblaque @urfavblackbimbo @brattyfics @hotmessexpressssss

@soft-persephone @blowmymbackout @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@wakandamama @avoidthings @mzindependent

(lmk if u wanna be added/removed from this, i just went through my other terry fic rbs)

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

#sageispunk #my writing #terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black oc #aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #rebel ridge #rebel ridge fanfiction

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levandright · 2 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — words of affirmationꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn! reader ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ comfort—so much comfort, established relationship, non-idol au ꕀ word count : 2,541 (the longest yet) ʬʬ go back to the start? ・ archive ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : tysmmm to my lovely moots for giving me the inspiration for this by answering my lil survey <3 as usual my bsf proofread + edited and added to this (they should start their own blog istg- but then again they don't really write as a hobby... + they're busy so i think their blog would just collect dust T-T) i should really take notes cause they write so poetically...

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - “ you are capable of so much more than you know.”

you’re sitting on your bed, feeling the weight of deadlines and responsibilities pressing down on you. the glow of your laptop screen feels harsh in the dim light, and you can’t shake the sense of being overwhelmed. just as you take a deep breath, there’s a soft knock at your door.

“heesung?” you call, grateful for his presence. he opens the door, his expression shifting from concern to warmth as he sees you.

“hey y/n, i brought some snacks,” he says, holding out a plate of your favorite treats. “but I can tell you need more than just food right now.”

you give a small smile, but it fades as you look back at your screen. “i just feel like everything is piling up. i don’t know how to handle it all.”

he sits down beside you, placing the snacks aside. “let me remind you of something,” he begins, his voice soft yet steady. “just like the moon must endure the night before it can shine, you too will find your light again. it’s okay to feel this way; it’s part of the journey.”

you look at him, captivated by his words. “but what if I can’t find my way?”

he gently takes your hand, his grip reassuring. “you are not lost; you are simply navigating through a storm. allow the winds to guide you, and trust that the sun will rise again. each challenge you face is like a note in a beautiful song—sometimes dissonant, but eventually leading to harmony.”

his poetic words wrap around you like a warm embrace, and you feel the tension in your shoulders start to ease. “you really know how to lift my mood, don’t you?”

he smiles, a twinkle in his eye. “i’m here to remind you that even the darkest nights will give way to dawn. let’s take a moment to breathe and celebrate your strength. you are capable of so much more than you know.”

with a newfound sense of hope, you nod. “thank you, heesung. i really needed to hear that.”

“anytime,” he replies, and together, you take a deep breath, allowing the weight to lift just a little more as you share in the comforting silence.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - “you did your best, and that’s enough.”

it’s been a tough day—one of those days where no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to go right. frustration bubbles inside you, mixing with a sense of inadequacy you can’t seem to shake.

you hear a gentle knock at the door, and a moment later, jay steps inside. he takes one look at you and instantly understands; he’s seen that look before.

without a word, he crosses the room and sits beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. you look up, trying to manage a small smile, but it fades quickly. “i really tried, jay. but I feel like it wasn’t enough. nothing went the way i wanted it to.”

jay’s gaze is warm and understanding, his expression softening as he listens. he reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “hey,” he says, his voice calm and steady. “you did your best, and that’s enough.”

you blink, letting his words sink in, but a part of you protests. “but… what if my best wasn’t good enough?” he shakes his head, his hand still holding yours.

“your best isn’t measured by the outcome. it’s about the effort you put in, even when things get tough. you showed up, you tried, and that’s what really matters.”

a comforting silence settles between you as you take in his words. “i guess i just wanted everything to go perfectly.”

“i know,” he replies gently. “but perfection isn’t what makes you amazing. your determination, your resilience—that’s what i see, and that’s what matters to me.”

a small smile finally breaks through, and you feel a weight begin to lift. “thank you, jay. i needed to hear that.”

he smiles back, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ll always be here to remind you.” then, with a soft touch, he pulls you into a warm hug, his embrace steady and reassuring.

and as you relax in his arms, you realize that maybe, just maybe, doing your best really is enough.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 - “even the stormiest skies eventually clear.”

you're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring at your phone, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of your worries.

when suddenly, the door creaks open, and jake steps in, shaking off the rain from outside and instantly brightening the room with his presence. “hey there sunshine,” he greets, noticing your downcast expression. “what’s got you looking so down?”

you sigh, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. “just… everything. It’s been a rough few days.”

without hesitation, he plops down beside you, pulling you to his side. “i get it. life can feel like a heavy cloud sometimes, but remember, even the stormiest skies eventually clear.”

you lean against him, taking in his warmth. “it just feels endless right now.”

he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his voice steady and soothing. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here to help you carry the weight. let’s take it one step at a time. every storm has its purpose, and i believe you’re going to come out even stronger.”

a small smile breaks through your gloom as you look into his eyes. “thank you, jake. you always know how to make me feel better.”

he grins, his eyes sparkling. “of course. you light up the darkest nights. just remember, whenever you’re feeling low, I’m right here to remind you how incredible you are.”

feeling a sense of comfort wash over you, you snuggle closer, letting his reassuring words wrap around you like a warm blanket as rain continues to fall outside.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 - “you mean so much to me”

you’re standing in the snack aisle of your favorite grocery store, contemplating whether to go with your usual chips or try something new. sunghoon, who’s been scanning the shelves beside you, suddenly goes quiet. when you glance over, you catch him just… staring at you, a small, soft smile on his face.

“uh, did i miss something?” you ask, laughing a little as you grab a bag of chips.

sunghoon shakes his head, but his smile only grows wider. he takes a step closer, lowering his voice as if he’s about to share a secret. “you know you mean so much to me, right?”

you blink, surprised by the sudden confession. glancing around, you notice a few shoppers moving past, some casting curious looks your way. “sunghoon, we’re at the store…” you whisper, cheeks warming as you give him a playful nudge.

he chuckles, completely unfazed by the setting or the people around. “i know, but i just wanted to say it. i love you, and i don’t care where we are. i don’t want to miss a chance to remind you.”

your face softens, and you feel your heart flutter at his sincerity. “you’re so random sometimes, you know that?”

he grins, grabbing the bag of chips out of your hand to toss it into the cart. “maybe, but you love it,” he says with a playful wink.

you roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “yeah, maybe i do.”

and as you continue down the aisle, you feel lighter, his words replaying in your mind. sunghoon may choose the most unexpected times to say how he feels, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - “you are more than enough.”

the evening light filters through your window, but instead of its usual warmth, it only amplifies the feeling of heaviness in your chest. after a long day, you find yourself scrolling through social media, comparing yourself to the perfect smiles and flawless features of others. tears start to fall, blurring your vision as self-doubt creeps in.

suddenly, there’s a soft knock at your door, and before you can respond, sunoo enters. he immediately notices your tear-streaked face, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “baby? what’s wrong?” he asks, quickly crossing the room to sit beside you.

you wipe your eyes, attempting a smile, but it falters. “i just… i feel like i’m not pretty enough for you,” you admit, your voice trembling. “you could find someone so much better.”

sunoo’s heart aches at your words. he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. “what? no way,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. “you are more than enough. these thoughts don’t reflect who you truly are.”

“but everyone else seems perfect,” you reply, your voice breaking.

he shakes his head, squeezing your hand tighter. “perfection is a myth, and even if it were real, it wouldn’t matter. you are unique and beautiful in your own way. i see all the things that make you special, and they’re what drew me to you in the first place.”

a small, hopeful smile begins to form on your lips as you look into his eyes. “really?”

“absolutely,” he leans closer and continues, “i love you just the way you are, and i would never trade you for anyone else. you are perfect to me, and I’ll always be here to remind you of that, especially on days like this.”

feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart, you nod, gratitude flooding through you. “thank you, sunoo. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “you’ll never have to find out. i’m here for you, always.”

as you settle into his warmth, the weight of your insecurities begins to lift. then, gently pulling back, sunoo cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “can i show you how much you mean to me?”

before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. it’s a kiss filled with reassurance and love, reminding you that you are enough just as you are.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - “you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters most.”

you sit at your desk, surrounded by textbooks and notes. you’ve been putting in long hours, determined to improve your grades and stay on top of your studies. but tonight, exhaustion starts creeping in, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of doubt about whether all this effort is worth it.

just then, jungwon knocks softly before entering your room, a bright smile lighting up his face. “hey, i brought you some snacks!” he says cheerfully, holding up a plate filled with your favorite treats.

you look up, trying to muster a smile. “thanks, jungwon. i really appreciate it, but I’m not sure i have time to eat right now.”

he puts the plate down beside you and leans against the desk, observing your scattered notes. “you’ve been at this for hours, haven’t you? i just wanted to check in on you.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “yeah, i’m trying to keep up, but it feels like I’m not making any progress.”

jungwon’s expression softens as he looks at you. “i see how hard you’re working every day, and i want you to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed. you’re putting in so much effort, and that’s something to be proud of.”

his words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re speechless. “you really think so?”

“absolutely,” he replies, his voice filled with sincerity. “you’re doing your best, and that’s what matters most. remember, progress isn’t always immediate, but every step you take is a step closer to your goals.”

feeling encouraged, you take a deep breath and nod. “thanks, jungwon. that means a lot coming from you.”

he smiles and pulls you into a gentle hug. “and don’t forget to take breaks, okay? you can’t pour from an empty cup.”

you laugh softly, feeling lighter already. “i’ll try my best.”

“good,” he says, stepping back and gesturing to the plate of snacks. “now, let’s take a break and enjoy these together. you deserve it.”

as you share the snacks and laughter, you feel a renewed sense of motivation. jungwon’s unwavering support reminds you that you’re not alone in your journey, and his encouragement makes all the difference.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - “it’s okay to be tired.”

riki had been looking forward to spending the day with you, but as he watches you curled up on the couch, he notices something isn’t right. you are normally so full of life and energy, but today, you're dull. your spark is somewhat muted.

“y/n,” he whispers, sitting down beside you. “you okay? you seem a bit… off.”

you look up, forcing a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “yeah, i’m fine. Just a bit tired, i guess.”

riki stares at your face and notices how you turn your eyes away, attempting not to show fatigue. “you know, it’s okay to be tired. you don’t have to hide it from me. everyone has those days.”

you shrugged it off as if it were nothing. “i didn’t want to ruin our day.”

he shakes his head, worry creasing his eyes. “you could never ruin our time together. if you’re feeling overwhelmed, it’s totally normal. you don’t have to put on a brave face all the time.”

you take a deep breath and look away, feeling a sense of guilt creeping in. “i just didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“listen,” riki says gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “feeling tired and needing a break doesn’t make you weak. it just means you’re human. we all have our limits. i care about you, and it’s okay to share how you really feel.”

you meet his gaze, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. “i appreciate that, riki. i guess i just thought i should be able to handle it all.”

he smiles softly, his voice steady. “there’s strength in acknowledging when you need help. so, how about we take a break together? we can watch a movie and order your favorite takeout. no stress, just a cozy day.”

your heart warms at his thoughtfulness. “that sounds perfect.”

“great! i’ll grab my phone,” he says, jumping up with newfound energy. as he moves around the room, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you. riki has a way of making you feel understood, reminding you that it’s okay to let your guard down.

as the two of you settle in for a cozy afternoon, laughter and lightheartedness return, slowly chasing away the shadows of your worries. when he finally sits back down beside you, he leans closer, gently brushing a stray hair from your face.

“just remember, i’m always here for you,” he whispers, his eyes warm as the word spoken.

before you can respond, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his touch lingering as a wave of comfort washes over you. in that moment, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that with riki by your side, you can be your true self without fear.

perm taglist. @honeychocos @kozumesphone @manaah02 (open)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7 (comment or ask to be added)

©levandright

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iceman-kazansky · 4 months ago

Note

Hi there Ice!! I saw your writing challenge and I think that’s such cool idea. Love that you try to get back into writing. I looked through your rules and prompts. If you’re up to it, I would love to request something with Mr Jake "Hangman" Seresin. I know it’s a bit strange, because my blog doesn’t normally revolve around top gun, but I’m a fan 🙈 So going through your prompt lists I found the one with "you can hold my hand, if you want” really adorable or one with the “Shy/Easily Embarrassed Character Getting Flustered” if you want. Whatever you’ll feel more comfortable writing about. Let your creativity flow. Honestly I’m happy with anything. Thank you for your dedication and for maybe considering this request. Take care 🩵😊

Not As Bad As I Thought

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: @sweetxvanixlla

Request: See answered ask above

Pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!reader

Warnings: Nothing really that I can think of. I want to tag this as soft!Jake, as he's a little less cocky in this. Jake is mildly flirty. Mild mention of large crowd.

Word Count: 1235

A/n: Saw this request and immediately began brainstorming what to write. In the end, I came up with this! Hope this didn't take too long for you and that it's curated to your liking, enjoy!! :)))

Taglist:

@footprintsinthesxnd @inglourious-imagines

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

It was a relaxing day. A stark contrast from the gruelling training the rowdy group of young aviators had been enduring in preparation for a very important mission. When someone had heard of a midway coming to the nearby town, word was quick to spread amongst the bunch.

Now here you were, standing with the group of young pilots, the sounds of the midway loud around you. Mostly everyone had attended, with the superior officers being an exception.

It was quite crowded as you walked among the rambunctious group of pilots, everyone wanted to do different things, there was a few minutes of banter and debate but before you knew it, everyone was splitting apart, going off on their own or in pairs. You hardly had time to react before suddenly it was just you left standing alone while the rest of the group dispersed. Or so you thought.

“Well, they sure all left in a hurry.” A familiar voice sounded beside you. Your gaze snapped to find none other than Jake Seresin still by your side, staring at you with a small smile on his face and a sparkle in his emerald eyes.

Simply humming in agreement, you nodded, “Yeah.” It was strange to have none other than Jake left by your side. Ironic, in a sense he didn't share that same ability to stick around long in the sky.

“Well, seeing as it’s just us, do you want to stick together?” He said, a hopeful smile stretched across his face.

You contemplated your options. You didn’t really want to be alone, and you wouldn’t mind somebody’s company. Even if it was Jake's. “I’d love to,” you finally responded.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

You and Jake had spent the last few hours running around and doing nearly every ride possible, and now as it was getting later, you were heading to grab food.

You’d have been lying if you said that it hadn’t been fun hanging out with Jake all day, the normally cocky, and often irritable aviator had peeled back a few layers and shown you just how enjoyable he could be. The entire time you’d been jumping from line to line, ride to ride, you’d been laughing and conversing. Talking with Jake seemed to flow so smoothly, and you realized you had a little more in common than you ever imagined. Admittedly, simply being with the emerald-eyed aviator all day seemed to have given you more enjoyment and glee then you’d had in quite awhile.

Up ahead, the crowd seemed to thicken, making you feel a little anxious. “That looks.. difficult,” You said to him, eyeing the crowd warily, “Do you think we can get through? I don't want to lose you.”

Jake slows and looks down at you, “I think we can. You can hold my hand, if you want,” he offers with a shrug, extending his open palm for you to take.

His offer takes a minute to set in. The Jake Seresin was offering you to hold his hand in a crowd? The Jake who left his wingman's hanging –his callsign a delineation of that– extended his hand for you to take? Baffled, you hesitantly took his offer, holding onto him as he began pushing through the crowd.

With Jake doing an excellent job of navigating the crowded fair, he managed to guide you both to a stand selling the food you wanted, and you now waited in line patiently.

You ordered and sat down with him, eating and drinking while you both continued talking animatedly amongst yourselves while you hurried to get back to the rides.

The hand holding hadn’t slipped your mind from earlier as you got back up and began pushing your way back to the rides. It seems as if it didn’t slip Jake’s either, seeing as like clockwork he extended his hand for you to take as you passed through another dense crowd.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

It seemed as if the day was coming to an end all too soon. The sun had set long before and the midway was closing as the evening hours stretched on. Jake walked beside you in silence, one that was oddly comfortable and light.

As you reached the parking lot and both your vehicles came into view, Jake turned to you suddenly, “Well, this has been an enjoyable date.” He said with a teasing smile plastered on his face.

You were certain you'd gone beet red as an overwhelming blush took over your features, “I– this wasn't a–” You stuttered, trying to object. Curse your inability to speak under sudden pressure.

Gently, Jake cut you off with a snicker, “Relax, sweetheart. I was joking.”

Sighing, you smiled at him. He was still that ever-flirtatious aviator you knew while flying. The conversation quieted down after that, Jake only piping up to offer walking you back to your car.

A few more minutes of walking and you now stood at the driver-side door of your vehicle. Hesitating, your hand hovered over the handle for a few moments. You realized you didn't want this to be the end. You wanted more things with him like this. Facing Jake, you spoke up, “Today was probably the most fun I've had in awhile. Maybe we could do something like this again?”

Your voice had been a little hopeful, hinting even. You wouldn't object if you and him did things like this more often. Whether you called it a date or a simple ‘hanging out.’ The whole day had been enjoyable for you. It felt oddly intimate as just-coworkers spending a day together. You'd learned so much about the man outside of a cocky, sometimes stuck-up aviator.

Jake smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice the subtle glint of something in his eyes. What it was exactly, you weren't sure. “I'll take you up on that offer,” He replied, “How would dinner at my place next weekend sound?”

“Sounds great.” You agreed, smiling back as you opened your door and got in. Jake went back to his own car and you were left to drive home by yourself. The whole way home you found yourself beaming uncontrollably at the prospect of a date with Jake. As you arrived back home, you decided that maybe Jake wasn’t that bad, after all.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #Jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun fanfiction #♤ Requests

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cherrynflowergarden · 2 months ago

Note

hii ml!!

can you write how dealer!matt and doll!reader met 😣🙏 ur headcanons are so cute btw<33

love at first high? || dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

matt’s world was spinning. he couldn’t remember where he’d been, or who had gotten him into this mess—though it was probably his own fault. the bitter aftertaste of whatever he’d taken clung to his senses, blurring his edges and leaving him lying in some alley, slumped against a wall. he was fading in and out, barely conscious.

matt wasn't used to people caring, especially in his line of work. so when he looked up, half conscious, barely processing anything, and saw her, kneeling beside him, he knew it was going to change his life. after all it's not everyday, a pretty girl like her comes to help his barely conscious body.

she was gentle, too calm and softly brushing the hair off his forehead as she checked him over with genuine worry.

“hey,” a soft voice said, breaking through his haze. he blinked, vision blurry, until her pretty face came into his focus. she were crouching beside him, eyes wide with concern, a softness on her face that didn’t really belong in a place like this. “are you alright?”

matt squinted, trying to get his bearings, but it barely made any difference. he knew she shouldn’t be here—someone like her, with that gentle voice and pretty face and worried gaze, didn’t belong in his world. yet there she was, her hand brushing his arm like she cared, like he was something worth saving.

“you... an angel?” he slurred, his words barely coherent, a lazy grin breaking across his face despite himself.

she let out a small laugh, though it was tinged with worry. “not quite, darling” she murmured, brushing his stray hair away from his forehead with a careful touch. “wanna tell what got you into this position?"

the feeling of her hand, warm and soft against his skin, combined with her honey like voice jolted something in him awake. it was unusual, being cared for, especially when he was in such a state. most people he knew would’ve passed by without a second glance. but not her apparently. she held his hand, grounding him as his mind swam in and out.

"matt?"

there was something about the way she said his name that had his head spinning. she was grounding him as he struggled to keep his eyes open, which filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. in this daze, he barely recognized the weight settling over him.

"i think i’m in love with you," he muttered, mostly to himself, but she caught it. and instead of laughing at him, she simply offered a soft smile, giving him the warmth he never knew he needed.

an; hii my loves!!! i'm on a train rn so enjoy this cutie piece i wrote please ignore the mistakes i love dealer!matt x doll!reader sm:(

taglist; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-belle @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf @blahbel668 @my-dinos-life-is-good @ssturniolo92 @lilly6110 @lou-larcher5 @arminluvrr @mxryxmfooty @gabri3la-sturns @bellsboops @f1-and-shiz @t1llysblog

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sagewritings · 7 months ago

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Grace and Arrogance - James Beaufort x Fem!Reader

pairing: james beaufort x fem!reader

synopsis: amidst playful bickering, the dynamic between you and james transforms from turmoil to bliss when james sheds his facade of arrogance to reveal hidden admiration.

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: mentions of a car accident, fluff with james beaufort

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while since my last post because i haven't really had any inspiration and time over the past months but after watching maxton hall last week, i just couldn't help but write! ! i wrote this in like an hour on my notes app so it may seem a bit rushed but that's okay :>

if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>

i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!

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Being a regular visitor at the Beaufort estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Beauforts didn’t mind your presence, with your family being close friends of theirs.

But it was not the Beauforts' son who you were particularly fond of.

You were extremely close with Lydia, your best friend since childhood. Despite both of you coming from wealthy backgrounds, your upbringing was notably different. Your parents owned a chain of hotels and restaurants across Europe, but they insisted on raising you humbly, teaching you the value of hard work and modesty. This upbringing made you see through the arrogance often displayed by James, Lydia's brother.

James, with his confident smirk and air of superiority, was someone you couldn't stand. Your encounters often led to playful bickering, a routine everyone at Maxton Hall was familiar with. But behind your teasing, there was an underlying respect for each other, one neither of you would openly acknowledge.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourself in the Beauforts' expansive garden, your favorite place to unwind with Lydia. She was lounging on a chaise, flipping through a magazine, while you were engrossed in a novel. The peace was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

"Well, well, what do we have here? The ladies of leisure," James's voice drawled, cutting through the tranquility.

You looked up, ready to retort. "And here comes the lord of arrogance. What do you want, James?"

James smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. "Just enjoying the sunshine. Is that a crime?"

"Only if you're planning to cast a shadow over our peace," you shot back, not missing a beat.

Lydia chuckled from her seat. "You two are impossible. Can't you ever have a conversation without turning it into a fight?"

"It's not my fault your brother is insufferable," you said, closing your book and standing up to face James.

"Insufferable? That's a new one. What else do you think about me, Y/N?" James asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, stepping closer.

"Absolutely," he replied, his gaze locking onto yours.

Before you could respond, Lydia interjected. "Okay, enough, both of you. Can't we just have one afternoon without the bickering?"

You glanced at Lydia, then back at James. "Fine. But only because Lydia asked."

James shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "Whatever you say, Y/N."

Despite your frequent clashes, there were moments when you couldn't deny James's charm. Like the time he helped you with a school project, his intelligence and wit shining through in a way that caught you off guard.

You were in the library, struggling with a particularly difficult economics assignment. The sound of approaching footsteps made you groan inwardly. Of course, it had to be him.

"Need help, Y/N?" James asked, looking over your shoulder.

"I can manage, thank you," you replied curtly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting you were stuck.

He pulled up a chair next to you anyway. "Let me see."

You sighed, sliding the paper towards him. "Fine. But no gloating."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said with a wink, scanning the problem. "Ah, I see the issue. You're overthinking it. Here, let me show you."

For the next hour, James patiently explained the concepts, his usual arrogance replaced with genuine enthusiasm for the subject. By the end of it, you had to admit he was a good teacher.

"Thanks, James," you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"Anytime, Y/N," he replied, his expression softening.

Despite these moments of truce, your dynamic remained largely unchanged. That is, until the day you stopped going to your classes in Maxton Hall without warning. Lydia knew the reason but couldn't divulge it due to your parents' wish for privacy. This secrecy, however, only fueled James's concern and curiosity. Despite your clashes, he had always admired your kindness and humility.

Days turned into weeks, and your absence left a noticeable void. James found himself more worried than he cared to admit. His irritation grew, not just because you were gone, but because Lydia refused to tell him why.

James sat in the library, his usual spot, staring at the empty chair across from him. It felt wrong not having you there to challenge him, to banter with him. The silence was suffocating.

"Where is she, Lydia?" James demanded, cornering his sister in the hallway.

"I can't tell you, James. It's not my place," Lydia replied, her expression firm yet sympathetic.

"You know something, and you're keeping it from me," he accused, frustration evident in his tone.

"Trust me, if I could, I would tell you. But I can't," Lydia insisted, turning away.

James ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "You don't understand, Lydia. I need to know she's okay."

"She is. That's all I can say," Lydia replied softly before walking away, leaving James standing there, his mind racing with worry.

He spent sleepless nights thinking about you, imagining the worst scenarios. Had something happened to you? Were you in trouble? Each passing day without any news felt like an eternity, and the worry gnawed at him incessantly.

The mystery was finally revealed during a dinner at the Beaufort estate. As you and Lydia's parents chatted, the conversation inadvertently turned to your family. James listened intently as they discussed the car accident that had left your father seriously injured. You had been absent to take over the family business in his stead, juggling the responsibilities of an heir with the pressures of high school.

"It was such a terrible accident," your mother said, her voice tinged with worry. "He was lucky to survive, but the recovery process has been grueling."

James's heart sank as he listened. The image of you, strong and resilient, dealing with such a massive burden alone, tugged at his heartstrings.

"Y/N has been amazing," your father added, his voice filled with pride and concern. "She's stepped up in ways we never imagined, taking on the business and keeping things running smoothly."

Lydia's parents nodded sympathetically. "She truly is remarkable. We can't imagine the pressure she's under."

James felt a pang of guilt and a surge of determination. He admired you even more for handling such immense pressure with grace. The next day, he decided to visit you.

You were in the midst of preparing for a business meeting when James arrived at your house. The sight of him surprised you, and your initial reaction was to push him away.

"James, I don't have time for this," you said, frustration evident in your voice as you shuffled through papers.

"I'm not here to argue," he replied, stepping closer. "I'm here to help."

You looked up, skepticism in your eyes. "Help? How?"

"I know how to run a business. Let me support you," he offered, sincerity in his voice.

You hesitated, the weight of your responsibilities making you wary. But the genuine concern in his eyes made you relent.

"Fine. But don't think this means I like you," you muttered, turning back to your work.

James chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He stepped forward, his presence steadying you as you felt the weight of everything crashing down. You fought back tears of exhaustion, the stress overwhelming you.

"Y/N, let me take some of this off your shoulders," James said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I… I don't know if I can trust you," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You've always been so… unserious."

James's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get it. I've been a jerk, but I care about you. More than I let on."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Why now, James?"

"Because I admire you. Your strength, your kindness. You're handling all of this with such grace, and I want to help you. Please, let me," he pleaded.

Your defenses crumbled, the exhaustion and stress finally taking their toll. "Okay," you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your vulnerability.

James stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to share the burden.

Over the next few days, James proved to be an invaluable ally. His expertise in business management eased your burden, allowing you to balance school and work more effectively. The more you worked together, the more you saw a different side of him—one that was caring and dependable.

James took on tasks with a surprising efficiency, his usual arrogance replaced with a dedication that impressed you. He handled meetings, reviewed contracts, and even helped streamline operations, all while providing a steady source of support and encouragement.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you both found yourselves sitting in the garden, the stars twinkling above.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" James asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You laughed softly. "How could I forget? You spilled juice all over my dress."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was so nervous. I wanted to make a good impression, and I ended up making a mess."

"I thought you were a spoiled brat," you admitted, smiling at the memory.

"And now?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

"Now, I see someone who cares deeply about his family and friends. Someone who hides his true self behind a facade of arrogance," you said softly.

James's expression turned serious. "And I see someone who is incredibly strong, even when faced with immense challenges. Someone who inspires me to be better."

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you both poured all your unspoken feelings into it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.

"I've liked you for a long time, Y/N," James admitted. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I guess I like you too, James. Even if you are insufferable sometimes."

He laughed, pulling you into another kiss. The garden seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

The days turned into weeks, and with James's help, you managed to stabilize your family's business. His presence became a constant source of support and comfort, and your feelings for him began to shift.

Returning to Maxton Hall, you and James surprised everyone with your newfound camaraderie. The playful bickering was replaced by a growing closeness that neither of you could ignore.

The fundraiser ball at Maxton Hall was an annual event where everyone dressed in Victorian-era attire. This year, you and James were assigned to fix the lights, a task that allowed for a rare moment of privacy.

"Careful with that, Y/N," James warned as you reached for a particularly tricky bulb.

"I've got it," you insisted, balancing precariously on a ladder.

James steadied the ladder, his hands brushing against yours as he helped you with the light. The proximity made your heart race, a tension building between you that neither could ignore.

As the last bulb clicked into place, you turned to thank him, only to find him closer than expected. His eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with unspoken feelings.

"James…" you began, but he silenced you with a gentle touch to your cheek.

"I admire you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.

"Can we try this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

James smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I'd like that very much."

As the evening wore on, the lights you and James had fixed illuminated the grand hall, casting a warm glow over the attendees. You stood together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

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