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lustkillers · 2 months ago

Note

Would love to see some content for Simon from Dinner in America or Colin Gray, you’re more than welcome to pick the subject matter, preferably female reader

｡ﾟ･ ୨୧ . i owe you a black eye and two kisses.

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - oh, how he's missed his girl during his time away.

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - simon / john q x fem!reader

✶ c.w. - nsfw freaky deaky time!! hard?dom simon, sub!reader, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP.), p in v, car sex (in a volkswagen beetle...), public sex, STOMACH BULGE!!! facial, throat fucking-ish, degradation—but also praise, cowgirl position, overstimulation, hair pulling, very cutesy fic... (let me know if i missed anything!)

⊹₊ ⋆ note - back from the dead (laziness) and kicking it!! i hope i did this request justice as i haven’t written in so long… WHOOPS. its been literally ages since i wrote smut so i apologize if i’m rusty as hell doing this… PLEASE FORGIVE ME. anywho… LUSTKILLERS IS SO BACK BABY 🙂‍↕️

requests are open! <3

THE night was cold and you couldn't be more bored out of your mind. the windows of your red volkswagen beetle were down, the distinguished smell of the car gas filling the air around you. your leg bounced, the keys that consisted of plenty of keychain accessories clinking against each other, and your eyes traced over the rusty, tall fence that you probably counted all the diamond-shaped holes between each steel bar. how long have you been here? an hour? hour too early?

at the rate of biting at your own cheek unconsciously, there was probably a dent that was left inside your cheek from how much you've bit down on it. turning your palms over was a nightmare; your hands glistening with sweat from anticipation. you wanted to look the best. you wanted everything to be perfect.

you couldn't even remember how he ended up here; maybe you blocked it out. slightly tragic on your end, watching as your boyfriend was cuffed and put into the back of a cop car, the last thing you experienced together was your fingers loosely holding a cigarette for him. that feeling left you empty... and a bit sexually frustrated, due to the fact that he had promised to fuck you real good after his performance.

a masculine silhouette stood at the goddamned fence that you loathed, your eyes shooting up at the whirring sound of the mechanical fence sliding to the right, leaving the figure to leave. you let go of the cigarettes that laid in the cupholder, your slippery hands moving to unlock your car.

with a frustrated yell, you quickly wiped your hands on the seats on your car, restoring the dryness that easily helped you unlock your god forsaken car. you opened the door, ducking under the slight top ledge that you've hit your head on plenty of times. you were giddy like a child receiving their gifts on their birthday– squealing as you shut the door behind you and stood in front of the driver's side door, bouncing on the tips of your toes, and a smile spread across your face.

simon had that stupid smirk on his face, scruff all over his face, and his hair slightly grown out from the last time you saw him. he also had the same clothes on from the last time, the green jacket and black pants with the boots. it felt like the first time all over again, and god, that outfit made your pussy throb, and your knees were moments away from bucking and landing onto the dirt ground.

"didn't i tell you to get rid of that goddamn car? looks stupid, the ladybug print and all." simon said gruffly, a slight smirk creeping onto the corners of with lips, his siren-like eyes peering down at you.

you looked up at him with a slight pout and doe eyes, "i think it looks cute." you mumbled in defense. his eyes gleamed with a predatory look on you. cute, he thought. but what left his lips was just a mere scoff, his smirk turning into a smile... which was still somehow intimidating if you think about it.

"looks like a kiddie car, that's what it looks like." he taunted, making you playfully roll your eyes.

you huff, "i'm gonna punch you in the face... leave a black eye while i'm at it." your voice taunting, yet not really sincere. he only chuckled in response, "c'mere." he moved towards you, his lips swinging down to kiss yours, kissing away the pout that now disappeared.

his rough, big hands wandered towards your ass, gripping it with no intent of letting go. simon's kisses were one of a man deprived of lust and yearning, and he wasn't planning to let your breathe for air. his hands roamed around your backside, his feet pushing you back towards the silly-looking car, his right hand pulling at the door handle, swinging the door open.

simon's eyes opened from the kiss, his frustration growing from the lack of the backdoors your car had. he let out a groan, his lips unlatching from yours, his jaw clenching as he softly moved you aside, bringing the drivers seat forward so you two could hop in the back. his pants strained against his bulge, and the whine that left your lips made it even worse.

"give me a moment doll, your car is pissing me off." he grumbled, watching his head as he hopped into the small car, with you behind him, closing the door. he was sitting with his legs spread, you in front of him with little to no space at all, on your knees, which were already feeling rough from the material of the bottom the car.

you and simon made no time to push down your pants, his hands unbuckling the shiny belt that clinked once it unfastened from his waist, and your hands helped slide them down, his thick, long cock springing free, and you could've sworn your eye twitched at the sight. with the way he looked down at you and the non-existent space you left between your face and his cock, the feeling between your thighs released itself like a flood; your thighs pressing together in instinct.

"god, if you don't hurry it up, i might take matters into my own hands." he groaned out, swallowing dryly as his hands gripped at your hair; making you squeak out a quick 'sorry,' and your tongue quickly laid flat against the side of his cock; a hiss escaping simon's pretty lips. "fuck," he groaned.

you worked your way around his cock, your head bobbing up and down, trying your best to keep eye-contact with him as you bobbed. spit drooled down the sides of your mouth; the liquid pooling at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down his strained balls; the sounds of his grunts and low groans filling the small car.

he felt your right hand shift towards your sopping pussy; mewls leaving your lips as you rubbed your clit, heightening your senses, but also making you focus less on working his cock. simon noticed it, his grip on your hair turning into a makeshift lever, the control reeling to him as he started to guide your head up and down, his cock spearing at the back of your throat, hitting past the uvula. the feeling made you gag, spluttering more spit around his cock, the sight being messy as ever. he pulled your head from his cock, your right hand leaving your clit in response, and as your lips left his cock, it making you gasp out in air; your eyes watering from the intense throat-fuck that was definitely going to leave you sore, along with your poor legs that were soon to fall victim to his fucking.

"si, give me a moment–" you squealed, making simon laugh as he pulled you up onto his lap, laughter leaving from both your lips. "tryna get me put in jail again, doll? fuckin' in front of the prison i just got out of?" he smirked, his forehead touching yours.

"not my fault, si– oh!" you hum in response, which quickly turned into a gasp– which finally turned into a moan, his cock knowingly filling your tight walls. his hips piston upwards, his cock hitting the deepest part of your cunt. his hands held at your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock, creating a white, creamy ring around the base.

the car windows immediately fogged up, heat and sweat glistening on both your bodies, the occasional cocky laugh simon let out settled into your ears, making you shiver. your hips worked at a sensual speed, grinding and bouncing, alternating between the two, moans spilling from your lips.

his lips shut your moans up for a bit, before pulling away and murmuring, "so pretty bouncing on my cock, like the slut you are." he smiled against your shoulder, placing a kiss against it as he looked at you, babbling and panting. "feel that?" he whispered, pressing down on the bulge his cock made in your stomach, immediately making you start to crumble.

you looked at him, your hips started to falter and grow slower, your legs tired and your thighs shaking as the pressure built up, waiting to burst out. but you tried to keep your pace going, your hands on his chest as you whimpered.

your lips tried to form a sentence, only letting out broken words. "c–cum... i needa– hmph!" you cry out, feeling the vibrations of simon's chuckle. "can i–?" you whimpered, moments away from crying in frustration.

his lips captured yours once again, making you come undone. you came around his cock, clenching as your thighs tried to close at the feeling; high-pitched moans leaving your lips as you were sent into a fruitful bliss. "haah–! t-thank you, si!" you sigh, your hips stuttering, still lazily grinding, praying to god that simon finds his release, or you'd probably lose it.

simon groaned, nearing his release as he fucks up into you, your overstimulated pussy weeping and soaking. "m'gonna cum," he exhaled, and at his words– he came, but he planned to cum on your face, his hands making quick–but safe work, one shot of cum shooting inside your cunt, and when you blink, you're already on your knees, hot spurts of his warm cum hitting your face, your eyes closing. he let out a hoarse breath, "that was fuckin' tits," he laughed, hunched over. his cock started to soften, his hands making quick work and grabbed the cigarette pack and paper towel that sat inside the cup holder. he ripped a piece of paper towel, wiping your face... decently clean, but it was the effort that counted.

your eyes fluttered open to look at him, a smirk on his face as a lit cigarette hung from his lips, his rough hands cupping your face and stroking his thumb across your fucked-out cheeks. "you're one of a kind, y'know that?" he let out a sigh, fixing your clothes back on you, and pulling you up to straddle him again sharing a kiss, which tasted like cigarettes, but you didn't mind. you never had a problem with him and he never had a problem with you. the world revolved around you both and nobody else. his eyes twinkled at the sight of your eyes, and his face softened.

"ditto." you whispered, smiling.

#dinner in america #kyle gallner #kyle gallner x reader #simon dinner in america #simon dinner in america x reader #kyle gallner smut #simon dinner in america smut #smut #dinner in america 2020 #john q #john q x reader #simon dia #simon dia smut #simon x reader #dinner in america smut #this might be too niche idk LMAOOO #wrote smut after 5 million years GOD it feels good

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saltedcavessys · 2 months ago

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sighhh gonna do one of these :3

5 notes - I’ll work on my main writing project

10 notes - I’ll organize my clothes

25 notes - I’ll start consistently taking care of myself :3

50 notes - I’ll work on an animation I scrapped a while ago

75 notes - I’ll finish setting up every PK and Octo profile

100 notes - I’ll finish one of my many writing projects

250 notes - I’ll clean my room entirely

1000 notes - I talk to the school counselor about possibly getting my deadname changed to my preferred name in the school system!!

no note limit per person or per blog, go wild!

-🌾

red - not reached

orange - reached, in progress

green - reached, finished

-🚪

edit post 1000: OH MY GOD HOW DID YOU??? GUH??? School’s cancelled right now because of the hurricane, but once we get back I’ll get on that!

-🚪

#notes game #notes goal #osdd system #endos dni #anti endo #osddid #actually osdd #osdd #actually dissociative #did system #dissociative system #traumagenic system

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cipheramnesia · 1 month ago

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What Your Horror Franchise Crush Says About You:

Jason Voorhees: Unabashed thick boy appreciator, you like em curvy and savor the finer himbos in life. Your man did nothing wrong and you can fix him (positive). Disabilities advocate.

Michael Meyers: Someone has to appreciate a generic white boy and that's you. No shame in being indecisive, but everyone thinks you have terrible taste in men, except for like three close friends who your guy helped out in a pinch, no questions asked.

Freddy Krueger: Fan of the bad boys, but red / green flag colorblind. You use the phrase "sad wet rat of a man" often and as a high compliment. You man did everything wrong and you can fix him (wrong).

Chucky (aka Charles Lee Ray): Found family maniac above and beyond anyone else you know, specializing in daddy issues. You have trouble parsing sarcasm and are some kind of flavor of alphabet soup rainbow colored queer.

Ghostface (Scream): Catboy aficionado who always bets on the loser. Your man did everything wrong and you can make him worse. Your struggles are endless but you stay silly.

Xenomorph (Alien/Aliens): Transgender monsterfucker identified.

Yautja (Predator/Predator 2/Prey): Cisgender monsterfucker identified.

Maniac Cop: You've watched way too many horror movies, or you're a devoted Bruce Campbell completionist. You can't explain to anyone what you like anymore, you used to but you're afraid you've forgotten how. Take a break.

Angela Baker (Sleepaway Camp 2/3): You did it, you found the sole, consistent girl slasher in the horror franchise lineup. I guess someone just has to be different and special all the time. Now learn to stop trying to be a white knight and let a girl live her best life.

Art the Clown: You are the edgiest motherfucking clownfucker and will tell anyone about it unprompted, but cannot tell "I do not know why you told me this" from "I am upset about this." Calm down but don't lose that weirdness. Ride or die friend for life.

Pinhead (Hellraiser 1/2/2022): Searching for the elusive big titty goth boy friend. You are either the person who has trust fund money and uses it to wear expensive goth clothes and get all the tattoos but listens to Taylor Swift and has vanilla cis straight sex only, or you have no money and the hardest kinks on the books that you never talk about. No in between.

#horror movies

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yandere-3-sagau · 2 years ago

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Can I request SAGAU with reader coming into Teyvat but being very hush hush about it and they get a job at Wangshu inn or something but one day they end up cutting themselves and boom golden blood? Sorry if this is too specific

Don’t apologize, I love this idea!

I have so many ideas for this one ranging from crack to angst hskakdk

Let’s say that all the documents about the creator have vague descriptions so they aren’t too sure about your appearance. The only key signs of being the creator are golden blood and crystal like tears.

I hope you like it! I think this may be my first request ^.^

—

Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Part 1

Your arrival to Teyvat is sudden. One second you had fallen asleep at your desk after a long night. The next second you lift your head and you’re in a completely new environment.

Surrounded by greens and vegetables you note you’re on some sort of farm. You warily get off the ground, dusting off the dirt from your clothes. You look around hoping to figure out where and how you had ended up in this unfamiliar place.

However, what catches your eyes in the dimly lit farm, is a little glowing blue figure floating wispily.

A seelie?

Your heart drops and your eyes squint through the dark taking in more of your surroundings. Your eyes finally land on a large statue in the distance.

Your thoughts are confirmed as you drop to your knees, eyes locked on a Geo Statue of the Seven.

You’ve read the stories, you know what happens.

“Hello? Who is out there?” a shaky voice calls out. You want to get up and run but the shock kept you in place.

An old man makes his way over, holding a lantern over you. The light illuminates your worry-stricken face. Thoughts run wild in your head as the old man helps you into his home.

Not wanting to risk being chased by all these powerful characters thinking you’re an imposter, while also afraid of being confined by obsessive acolytes, you think it’s best that your arrival to Teyvat is kept a secret.

The farmer that found you, a widowed man with no offspring, decides to take you in. To avoid feeling like a burden, you help out the old man in anyway you can, starting with farming. As if the land is trying to show their love for you, the vegetables you plant grow absurdly quick. They grow larger than the farmer had ever seen before. Vegetables farmed by your hand come out with the perfect texture and consistency. To the farmer, you’re like an angel descended from the skies.

It isn’t long before the old farmer’s business booms with the best vegetables in the market. However, he’s become too old and it’s become too difficult for him to transport all of these vegetables from his isolated little home to the shops down in Liyue Harbor.

You volunteer to do it for him. It’s the least you could do in return for him letting you stay rent free. Despite your willingness, you still can’t fight the anxiousness that comes with traveling in Teyvat.

The first time you enter Liyue Harbor, your hands are so sweaty you nearly drop the boxes of vegetables you are holding. Staying the whole day to sell vegetables in Liyue Harbor means that you are exposed. But when you finally came across your favorite characters, you realize you worried for nothing.

You first meet the Traveler and Paimon. The exchange is simple. They buy a few of your vegetables then leave to Wanmin restaurant to use the stove to cook some meals.

Then you meet Xiao. One day, a group of Hilichurl’s almost attack you while you are transporting goods to Liyue Harbor. He quickly wipes them out while you hide behind the cart you are pushing. Xiao simply looks at you for no more than 5 seconds before disappearing.

After that, the worry of your face being recognized begins to fade. If it weren’t for your oddly golden blood, you would have forgotten that you’re the creator.

You become accustomed to living life in Teyvat. It is peaceful. No exams or deadlines. Such simple tasks done day by day. You spend one day farming and the next transporting vegetables. You sit at your little shop selling items before heading home and helping out the old man. It’s not super easy but it’s a lot less stressful than your life before.

Everyday you get to bask in the sunlight and enjoy fresh air while you admire the scenery you had only ever seen through a screen. You are content and happy.

Until one day you accidentally make the smallest mistake.

Xiangling is a regular of yours. Your vegetables are by far the best she’s ever had and you quickly become her source of ingredients for her dishes. She speaks so highly of you that Zhongli, one of the characters you fear most, decides to drop by your little shop.

His presence is intimidating with his golden eyes peering down at you and his tall stature towering over your little stall.

Despite his slightly domineering presence, his voice is as smooth and soothing as you remember it to be and you’re able to calm down enough to treat him like any of your other customers. You’ve already met many characters and none of them were able to recognize you. How could he be any different?

Except he’s not like the others.

He’s nearly 6000 years old. He’s seen things others haven’t and most importantly, he’s worshipped the existence of the creator far longer than any of the Liyue Citizens have been alive.

From the very beginning, he sensed that there was something different about you. Something familiar and oddly inviting. The former Geo Archon thought he knew everyone residing in Liyue but it’s his first time coming across you.

His eyes can’t help but follow your every move as you wrap up his box of vegetables. You finally finish tying up his box with some sturdy rope and grab a knife to cut off the long ends. Just as you’re cutting the rope, your hand slips.

The sharp knife slices shallowly into your opposite hand. Zhongli is only barely able to catch a glimpse of gold before you drop to the floor.

It isn’t the pain that’s brought you to your knees but the fear. You crouch over your hands, covering the wound as best as you can hoping with all your being that he hasn’t seen anything.

Both you and Zhongli can feel your hearts beating faster than ever before.

“Are you alright?”

The former Geo Archon attempts to walk over to the other side of the stall, when he hears the Traveler call his name. His attention wavers and it gives you just enough time to wipe your blood away and stuff the handkerchief into your pocket.

Zhongli glances at you amidst his conversation just to see you finish covering your wound with a bandage. Any trace of blood is gone and the wound is completely covered.

He walks away from the Traveler to speak with you. The geo archon’s eyes never once leave your hand as he stands in front of you.

“Is your wound alright?”

You nod waving your hand a little.

“Just a small wound,” you say, hoping he’d accept your answer and move on.

But he isn’t satisfied.

“Are you sure? It look like it hurt. It’s important to put some cream on it so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Of course! I’m a lot stronger than you think.” You smile before repeating his total. The Traveler ends up paying for the vegetables and the two leave, but not without Zhongli glancing a few more times at you.

When his figure completely fades, your smile drops.

It seems you’ve stayed a bit too long in Liyue.

Shaky hands clumsily pack up your stall as you race to close up the shop early and quickly head home before the Geo Archon decides to return.

While you rush, you don’t notice the small white handkerchief falling out of your pocket nor do you realize that the small piece of cloth would be the sole cause of the upcoming chaos that erupts throughout the nations of Teyvat.

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team-frightfur · 10 months ago

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Boy.

I like how his knife sharp and ruler straight hair both fits dgrp (ibuki mioda vibes) and adds to his punky vibes (especially the dramatic spikes at the back). Finally, the soft pink sunset lighting and hint of a dgrp school setting (with the school desk) sets the scene/mood rly well.

TLDR: Good work. Honestly im kinda curious about the rp at this point bc I want to know his story. This design says a lot but Im probs horribly off base. I want to know what it means. Is he even human? What is his ultimate? Is this the kind of Au where you try to translate his whole character arc or are you doing new, funky things with him? Its so intriguing to me.

Anyway, hope you enjoy the rp! And highkey that the RP is with a person 😐.

Love it when RPs lead to my best artwork

#sora would be so into monokuma #hed be like the anti chiaki #an evil ai meant to sabotage the game #idk maybe you could teach him friendship or someshit #anyway this is a neat design. Sora's very blue #but I've also always associated him with pink and green too #he's very bubblegum flavoured #the pinkish purple of his hoodie nails that #while the dark back and lines on the sleeves add that punkish look #course theyre not punking alone #the spiky collar (which also fits the demon animal pet/toy theme #and the blue blood spatter pattern on his shirt #an extra layer of censorship for the spike chunsoft gods I guess #+ finally his dead ass eyes (which are still very cute and shiny tbh #I notice theyre different colours tho. Is that an effect or a hint?)#anyway another reason I like the purple is because it rly sets off his hair + is a nod to fusion #other nods I deeply enjoy include the lil frightfur tiger on his chest #the needles in his jumper #and the mid fusion mid mutilation fluffal bear fusing with sabres #also love how even tho this sora is in general more open in his antagonism #theres still the hint of cuteness in his little bow hairtie #you did a good job replicating the style #too #especially in the hair shading #you can't mistake that distinctive danganronpa straight line highlight #plus the heavy outlines on the clothes and shadows #the thinner lines towards the light are a bit of a departure #but honestly they nicely and naturalistically blend him into the scenery+lighting #so its a good move #in dgrp they dont have lighting for the sprites so the 100% thick outlines are just for consistency

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pepperyduck · 3 months ago

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some of the jjk men with a plus size/chubby girlfriend :3

warnings: my self indulgent writing, talk about insecurities, a little bit of suggestiveness on gojo & geto’s, not proofread. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i got a new vape today!

part 2 | masterlist

gojo:

gojo never really expected himself to be with someone plus size, in fact, no one did. he’s got the looks and personality of a cocky bastard that could get anyone he wanted. but there was just something when he first laid eyes on you — your pretty face, pretty figure, pretty thighs…he was immediately entranced. he approached you with the most confident smile and posture, flirting terribly and asked for your number.

he couldn’t care less about what his friends said and how meanly the jealous girls who wanted him stared at you; he felt like a king having someone as pretty as you latched onto his arm everywhere he went.

he buys you new clothes all the time, taking you into each and every store you look at — and if they don’t have your size, he makes a point to give passive aggressive comments about how “close minded” companies are. he becomes a retail worker’s worst nightmare if they dare upset you by saying they don’t carry your size. but, don’t get him wrong, he loves it when you buy something and go home to try it on, and it’s just a little bit too tight for your liking. oh, your sweet, sweet satoru is practically losing his goddamn mind seeing how that dress squeezes your tummy so well or how those shorts make your thighs look even softer. he has to control himself, and it’s so hard, he wants to just pounce on you in the very moment you turn around and mumble, “it’s too tight,” with a frown.

if you’re ever feeling insecure, he gives you a not-so-gentle reminder about how he’s literally the strongest man in the world and you’d have to be something special for him to be with you. he’s kind of an arrogant asshole about it, though. but do not fret, he will take his sweet time showing you everything he adores about you in the mirror all the while making you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt with any other parter you’ve had.

nanami:

oh boy, where to start with nanami.

he didn’t really have the chance to think about what he’d prefer in a woman, but when satoru finally convinced him to go out and drink, he popped the question since kento was severely lacking in romantic partners at his grown age. it took a lot of prying, and gojo finally snapped with a, “if you could screw anyone in here, who would it be?” nanami had to take a look around the room for a while, when his finger finally landed on a table consisting of you and your friends. you were out drinking, feeling nervous about the black dress you borrowed from your friend, and kento couldn’t look away when he found you.

“ohhh, the one in the green?” gojo asked, a sly grin on his face.

“no.”

“the one in blue with the long hair?”

“no. her.” kento’s finger got even more focused on you.

he thinks you are quite literally the epitome of “wifey material” (a phrase learned from gojo the night he first saw you) and he makes sure you know that. he just thinks you’re so…breathtaking every time he sees you. the honest man he is, he compliments you pretty much any time he thinks of it. he adores seeing you in those babydoll nightgowns, the pretty ones that are all silky and soft, with the way your hips fill them out and make it ride up every time you move. by the time you move in with him, it’s all you’ll be wearing around the house.

he also takes up cooking with you, learning your favorite meals and teaching you how to prepare the foods he likes the most. it becomes a sweet bonding experience for the both of you. and if you’re feeling self-conscious about your body, he feels as if he’s not doing enough to build you up, and he’ll leave you sweet notes in your lunch, on the mirror, in your car, etc. he’ll make you feel so loved and beautiful with that alone.

geto:

suguru thought you were just a sweet little thing when he met you for the first time. when he came into your job along with a few of the curses he’s obtained, he noticed how your eyes kept flashing to them but you still were so kind when you talked with him. he caught on quickly — and when he knew you could see curses while looking so adorably cute, he knew he just had to have you.

he thinks you look just like the paintings of renaissance women, the glamorous and gorgeous ones often depicted as goddesses or angels. although it’s cliché, he fully believes in the whole “more of you to love” thing. he enjoys how soft you feel in his arms, never failing to give you longing hugs from behind just so he can feel your squishy backside and snake his arms around to touch your tummy. he dreams of making you have a real mom bod.

and lord help anyone who dares to make you feel bad about the way you look. he spends more time berating those who hurt your feelings than actually comforting you. he’ll end up making you feel better from the stupid things he says about those people being “monkeys.”

“stupid fools shouldn’t even be allowed on the same ground as you, filthy monkeys, i should make sure their death is more gruesome than they ever imagined for hurting you.” he’d say, causing you to break your pitiful persona and begin to giggle. he doesn’t really understand why you think it’s so funny, though.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee

let me know if you want to be added!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #nanami x reader #suguru geto #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x chubby reader

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btsgotjams27 · 6 months ago

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perfect palette | jjk

vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.

✨ title: perfect palette

✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader (nicknamed Ro)

✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au

✨ rating: m/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.5k

✨ warnings: language, drinking, mild nudity, jungkook + reader are tipsy, kissing, reader is nicknamed Ro but is only called by her name a handful of times.

✨ a/n: hi again! so this idea came to me when i was in vegas lmao, and the painting idea is from 'this is us' (the show). i just thought it was a fun premise. i hope you enjoy it.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is growling. As you pop your head up, you notice the hotel room is a complete mess: furniture has been knocked over, empty tequila and champagne bottles litter the room, and clothes and money are scattered across the floor.

A low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover up with the duvet. You definitely don’t remember sleeping with someone. Your mind races, attempting to recall last night’s shenanigans.

Whoever is next to you mumbles under their breath and turns over on their stomach. The silver chain that’s adorning their neck glimmers from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You can’t help but notice their broad chiseled back and the markings on it. No, they’re not scratches from nails—they’re purple lines, going from one beauty mark to the next, and each mark is surrounded by a pair of red lips. Turning your hand over, you see it’s stained with purple, matching the color on their back.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

You lean over, peering at the mysterious person. A scalloped tattoo delicately covers their shoulder and the rest of their arm is covered in ink. You giggle when you discover the tattoos are colored an array of hues—blue, red, green, and orange. It looks almost like a child was told to have fun and went wild with coloring.

The person groans again, switching to lay on their back side. You pull back, holding the duvet up to your chin. A small gasp comes out when you recognize the mystery person—it’s Jeon Jungkook, your old college buddy. Five years have passed since you last saw him at graduation. Last you heard, he was in Los Angeles, taking a jab at modeling and acting. Well, with his perfect face and body (your eyes quickly scanned over him), who would say no to him?

The real question now was, how did he end up in Vegas, and specifically in your hotel room?

—

The day before.

“Ro, cheer up please. We’re in Vegas, not a funeral,” Lottie says, swiping on a pink lip stain. “You’re only gonna feel like shit if you keep scrolling through those photos.”

Lottie’s right because looking through your ex-college sweetheart’s wedding photos is not doing anything for you. Four years of committing to a man who said he never wanted to get married, but there he was with a ring on his finger.

Your phone is swiped from your hand. “Hey!” you protest, standing to snatch it back. “Give it to me!”

“No! I will not let my maid-of-honor mope around like a sad puppy. Forget Jimin! He’s a married man now and a Libra—an October Libra too, I might add. That should’ve been a red flag right off the bat!”

She’s been your work wife for the past three years, and the two of you bonded over talking shit about your boss and colleagues. The only anecdotes she knew of Jimin were the ones you spilled on drunken nights.

“Lottie, give me my phone. I have to make sure everything is ready for tonight. It has to be perfect,” you explain, holding out your hand, insisting she gives it to you. But it was an excuse to keep lurking.

The itinerary for today consisted of: brunch, pool and cocktails, dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then a night of painting–naked painting you should add. As if the Magic Mike show wasn't enough skin for Lottie and the rest of the crew. You somehow stumbled upon a small business, ‘Perfect Palette’ combining models and painting into one. This would be the next closest thing to being with a fully naked man. It's been a hot minute since you've seen one.

The bride-to-be reluctantly hands over the phone and you're scrolling through emails, switching apps to confirm everything.

“Take a chill pill, babe. Everything doesn't have to be perfect, but I am excited about painting tonight!” Lottie smiles and claps, then leans over to give you a hug. “Okay! Time to get ready for brunch.” She runs off to the restroom. “And no more pining over Jimin, please!” She yells back.

It's hard not to look through the photos of your ex-boyfriend because it was supposed to be you, not the woman he's kissing and holding. If only you could go back to graduation and fix things between you and Jimin…maybe life would've turned out differently for you.

As you open up Instagram (your burner account, obviously), you see a new post of him and his wife on a plane with the caption, “Can't wait to honeymoon in Bali.”

Bali was your dream honeymoon location.

With a heavy sigh, flinging yourself onto the bed, you turn off your phone. Lottie’s always right—this is depressing.

A ding goes off and you're hoping it's just one of the girls confirming the schedule for today. Grabbing your phone, you hold it above you, the screen illuminating your face.

The notification reads:

Namjoon 8:30 AM

Hey. I came down with the stomach bug so I can't make it tonight, but don't worry, I'm sending the next best thing to replace me. I promise the bride and your girls will love him. He's a newbie but he's just as beefy if not more than me. Have fun tonight.

You turn the phone over and rub your hand over your face. Great, just my luck, you think.

Well, whoever this person is, you hope he’s worth what you’re paying for.

–

The Primrose restaurant is the perfect spot to finish off a weekend in Vegas. It’s bustling with groups similar to yours—probably other brides and bridesmaids celebrating a last hoorah before committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life. At this point it seems silly, doesn’t it? Being with someone, choosing them on a daily basis, loving them for all their faults, but who are you kidding? You’re a hopeless romantic now waiting for your charming prince.

Gwen and Ivy sit across from you and Lottie, whispering and pointing to their phone like two high school girls. You don’t doubt they’re plotting something. You just hope it doesn’t involve more naked men, minus the one you’ll see tonight. There are only so many ripped abs you can take.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lottie asks while narrowing her eyes. She holds her glass of mango mimosa, taking a sip.

“Nothing!” They both speak in tandem and Lottie makes a face at the two.

“No surprises,” you plead with your friends. “The rest of the day is already planned.”

“Don’t worry, babe! We’re not planning anything else,” Gwen reassures.

“It’s just that—” Ivy is cut off when Gwen jabs her in the ribs. “Ow!”

Gwen puts her phone down, hiding it under her thigh. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“But it does—kind of—” Ivy interjects. “Jimin and his wife—they’re pregnant.” She grabs Gwen’s phone, showing a photo of Jimin kissing his wife’s belly.

“Oh,” you say softly. “That’s great. I’m really happy for him.”

You hate to admit it, but it stings. He’s living the life you dreamed of with him. The big house, big cars, but someone else got the big ring. And now they’re starting a family? Everyone seems to be moving forward, but it feels like you’re at standstill. It’d be amazing to have a man plop in your lap, but life just doesn’t seem to be going your way.

Clearing your throat, “Should we get ready for the pool?”

—

It doesn’t matter how many times you tug down your swimsuit, it keeps riding up in all the wrong places. The white linen shorts and tie top aren’t doing you any favors either by being paper thin.

The pool is bustling with hoards of party-goers. They’re laughing, drinking, and having the time of their life. An ex-boyfriend’s current life shouldn’t be affecting yours—but it is. You wish you could let go, let loose, forget everything related to Park Jimin. You’d rather be consumed by anything, anyone other than him.

Lottie’s at the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Gwen and Ivy are grabbing the attention of four guys. And it’s the last night before returning to reality, so you should be having fun, flirting, and making a fool of yourself to someone whom you’ll never see again. That’s what Vegas is for, right?

As a maid of honor, you’re definitely not living up to the hype and you know Lottie’s disappointed expression like the back of your hand, and yet you can’t unbunch your panties that are in a twist. The effects of the morning mimosas have worn off, and maybe you need something stronger. Hell—even a gummy sounds tempting at this point. Anything to forget how miserable your love life is.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lottie asks. You shake your head no, but she knows you. She sits down, taking your hands. “Look, I’m sorry about Jimin. It sucks that he got married even though he said he never wanted to—” You’re ready to interrupt but she stops you, placing her index finger on your lips.

“Bup-bup-bup. I know what you’re going to say, but don’t,” Lottie implores, pleading with her eyes. She knows how much you torment yourself with lowly thoughts.

You want to say that there’s definitely something wrong with you. Why else would Jimin say one thing to you about marriage and then do the complete opposite?

“You’re more than enough, so please don’t think otherwise. Don’t let this one guy determine the course of your future relationships. He’s not worth your time and energy.”

Tears began to well behind your eyes as she continued, “You deserve to have some fun. So please, can we enjoy this last night together before we have to go back to our real lives?” Lottie pouts along with puppy eyes.

Lottie’s always right and that’s what you love about her. You hate that you’ve been a poor sport this weekend when you’re supposed to be celebrating your friend and having fun. You’ve been busy moping over a man who is now married with a child on the way. It’s a pathetic way to spend your last night in Vegas.

You let out a deep breath, expelling all the bad energy you’ve harnessed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst maid of honor, but have no fear!” A server brings over the drinks that Lottie ordered, you pick up your Paloma cocktail and an oversized margarita, handing it to the bride-to-be. “Let’s have the best night. Cheers!” you say, clinking your glass against hers.

—

Tequila is one of your worst enemies, but also the best way for you to loosen up your limbs and lips.

By the time the four of you arrive at the hotel room, you’re unsure if you can even pick up a paintbrush, let alone even get paint on a canvas.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry that you love me! Change my mind up like it’s origami!”

The trio of you, Ivy, and Gwen are linked arm in arm trying to fit through the door while singing at the top of your lungs.

“Ugh—I swear Tate McRae is my spirit animal,” you say, turning to Gwen. “You know, she just gets it. Always gets me in my sad girl hours and then has me dancing the next.”

“I’m a-I’m a-I’m a wild ride that never stops!” Ivy continues singing, letting go of the two of you while Lottie trails behind. Someone has to be the semi-sober one.

“Hey Ro—they’re bringing everything right?” Lottie asks you.

“Yeah, the guy will bring the supplies. There’s an area cleared out for him. I’m gonna freshen up then I’ll be out.”

“I’m ready for a man to bare it all and ask nothing of me in return,” Gwen comments, taking a seat on the couch.

You chuckle, shaking your head at your friend. Hopefully, it’ll be the last naked man you’ll see this weekend. But either way, you’re sure you’ll enjoy this last activity.

The powder puff pats against your skin, making dust fly everywhere. Taking a step back, you give yourself the once-over in the mirror, but not before swiping a red stain on your lips. You don’t want to look disheveled for this naked guest. Apparently, he’s the ‘next best thing’ next to Namjoon, and you saw Namjoon’s photo on the website. You’re curious to see this mystery man and how this evening will end up.

As the door is ajar, you can hear the girls talking amongst themselves along with giggles. Whoever this guy is, he must be living up to their standards.

You’re unsure what to expect, how everything will turn out. Is this model fully naked? Are they covered? Do you keep your art piece? How are you supposed to bring a canvas of a naked man on a plane without receiving a few stares? You definitely didn’t think this part through.

“Ro! Get your butt out here. We’re gonna start painting soon!” Gwen yells, making you sprint out the door and into a curious situation.

Four canvases on easels and paint palettes on stools surround the model. His back is turned to you and he’s already half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist. One arm is completely inked from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. When he turns around and your jaw drops, not because he’s built like a Greek god (well, yeah he is), but because you recognize the half-naked man.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Ro?” His eyes light up and he secures his towel, tucking it in his waist. “What are you doing here?”

You step toward him and the girls. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Err—”

Lottie clears her throat, blinking at you and then Jungkook. “Um, excuse me. How do you two know each other?”

The pair of you give each other a look and chuckle before you answer. “Oh, we went to college together.”

“Just went to college together? Nothing more?” Ivy narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you’re lying.

“What? No! We’re just friends. I was with Jimin, remember?” A pathetic reminder of your past relationship and now non-existent one.

“Uh huh,” Lottie remarks, taking a stride to you, pulling you in. “I wanna hear all the details about that one later.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” you whisper. “We’re friends—nothing more.” Catching Jungkook’s gaze, you smile softly before taking your seat on the stool.

“Are you ladies ready?” Jungkook asks, ripping off his towel, only to reveal another small hand towel covering his crotch.

The girls are yelping and hollering. You can’t help but cover your eyes, giggling at the fact that you’ll be painting one of your friends—naked.

—

Jungkook’s surrounded by the four of you. His pose is simple, straight forward. Literally straight forward because he’s facing you, knees slightly bent as he’s sitting on the stool. Your eyes have caught his every now and again, but he's focused on something past you.

Every inch of him is chiseled like a statue right out of Ancient Greece. From his jawline, to his collarbone, to his sculpted chest and not one, two, three, four, but eight pack abs. How is it that some people are just born to look like a Greek god? You didn’t think God had favorites, but Jeon Jungkook definitely proves you wrong.

Studying Jungkook’s physique for the past hour has made you realize how intimate this feels. Although the pair of you were friends in school, this is the most time you’ve spent with him outside of it, and the most time you’ve spent just looking at him. He is definitely a pretty boy with a soft, sweet energy.

Your brows are knitted, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to paint his inked arm. It’s looking more and more like a glob than anything distinguishable. It’s when your eyes catch his and he’s doing that smile, the one where one side curves up, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to the large clock in the living area. “Okay, ladies. It looks like time is up. How did everyone’s painting turn out?” There are groans and grumbles coming from the four of you. Jungkook chuckles, “Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

He turns, fetching a robe behind him, slipping it on to cover himself. Jungkook takes it upon himself to check out everyone’s canvases, and you’re dreading the moment when he approaches yours.

You clutch it, holding it close to your body, and you have no intention of Jungkook ever seeing it.

He tilts his head, giving you a look. “Ro—it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, it is!” You turn, hoping to somehow destroy it before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not that Jungkook looks horrible—it’s that you’re a horrible painter. But your death grip isn’t as strong as he is. With a sigh, you hand it over to him.

Jungkook nods with a pout on his lips. “It’s…”

“Horrible—I know.”

“No, no. I’d say it has an abstract feeling to it. I like it.” He gives a bright smile, returning the canvas to you.

You give him a thin smile, knowing that he’s just saying it because it’s his job. “By the way, you’re really good at this gig, but are you still pursuing the whole modeling thing?”

“I’m still doing that. I just do this gig for fun on the weekends. I mean, I get to meet cool, and sometimes crazy people and the money isn’t bad either.”

“Alright, ladies and gentleman. Tequila, anyone?” Gwen suggests as she wiggles her eyebrows, holding up the bottle. No one answers which makes her frown. “Aw, come on!”

“I’m game. What about you Ro?” Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. “One for me?”

You know it’s never ‘just one’ with Jungkook. You’ve seen first hand what that one line does to people, but you take the risk. “Okay, Jeon—just one.”

Everyone else gives in, raising and clinking their glasses to toast the bachelorette. Expelled breaths come from everyone after knocking back the clear liquor.

“Round two?” Jungkook asks, extending his glass toward Gwen in which she happily obliges.

You smirk, shaking your head as you catch Jungkook’s gaze.

—

It didn’t take long until you were feeling euphoric from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’re always on cloud nine when you drink Tequila.

Lottie called it quits after her fifth shot. Gwen and Ivy are also well on their way to sleeping like babies. But you and Jungkook? You both have caught a second wind of energy.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” you exclaim, rubbing your belly as it growls. Jungkook’s trying to hold in a laugh. With a gasp, you turn to him, slapping his back, which is firm to the touch. “Shut up! Drinking makes me hungry.”

“Okay then, let’s get some room service. What are you craving?”

You tap your cheek with your index finger, combing through the many options. “Pizza. No—wait, chicken wings.” Jungkook closes his eyes and hums. “No, nope! I want a juicy, juicy hamburger…with…with…” Your brain is obviously short-circuiting.

“Fries?” Jungkook answers.

“Yes! Fries! And a milkshake!”

“We can do that. I’ll call it in.”

An hour has passed and you and Jungkook are sprawled out on the bed, bellies full and minds are swirling.

“Oh man, I haven’t done anything like this in such a long time,” you admit, turning over onto your belly. You lay your head in the crook of your arm, facing Jungkook.

“What? Eating?” he teases.

You giggle. “No—getting tipsy and I don’t know, just being free.”

“This is you being free?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I gotta get some more tequila in you then.” He proceeds to get up, but you pull him back.

“No, no, no. Trust me, this is good. I don’t wanna black-out.”

“Okay, how about some champagne then? Just to celebrate your last night here,” Jungkook suggests.

You know you’ll regret it, but you agree. “Just one bottle.” Besides you already paid for it, you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.

He sprints out of the bedroom to the bar area to grab a bottle and two glasses. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex as he pours the two of you a glass.

“To—”

“Lottie,” you finish his sentence.

“To Lottie.” He clinks his glass with yours before chugging down his bubbly.

You stare blankly at the Greek god himself. “You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”

His lips thin into a smile. “I’m not doing anything…”

“Mmhm.” You take a gulp of your glass. You’re sure that if Jungkook were to ask you to do something, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. He made being around him comfortable and you always felt at ease.

“So, what should we do now?”

Your lips turn into a pout, peering around the room before a lightbulb goes off. “Ah! I have just the thing.” You rush over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Turning around, you wave a box of double tipped markers.

Jungkook knits his brows together. “And what do you think you’re going to do with those?”

You giggle. “You’ll see!”

—

Your tongue is out, concentrating on the purple line connecting from one beauty mark to the next. You’ve forced Jungkook to lie on his belly as you’re hunched over, straddling his legs.

“Don’t move!”

He relaxes, letting you continue on. Capping the purple marker, you set it aside. You’re giggling, tracing the line across his back and you can feel him squirm under your touch.

“You finished or what?” He peers over his shoulder but you turn him away.

"Just need to add the finishing touches." Leaning forward, you press your lips to the first beauty mark on his mid back, leaving a lipstick stain. Then you move to the next one beneath his shoulder blade, and continue on. His skin is smooth and warm under your lips, and though it's faint, you think you hear a low groan from him.

You sit up, adjusting your position, staring at the artwork you’ve created on Jungkook’s back. “Done—with your back at least. Now onto your arms.”

—

Jungkook turns his head to see what you’re coloring, flexing his bicep, making you color outside the lines.

“Oh my god! You made me mess up!” You try wiping the color, but it doesn’t budge. “You did it on purpose.”

“I did not! Why do you need to color inside the lines anyway?” he asks before returning to his previous position, resting his head on his arm.

“Because…that’s the way you’re supposed to color.” Taking an orange marker, you continue shading in his cloud tattoo.

“You don’t always have to follow the rules,” he breathed, gazing up at you.

“I know…” you mumble. Your eyes flick to his then back to the tattoo. You hate when things are not in your control. There were a handful of moments in your life when shit hit the fan and chaos ensued—Jimin being one of them.

You clear your throat, grabbing a yellow marker to color in a gradient effect. “And are you the type to not follow the rules?”

Jungkook chuckles, “I guess we don’t know each other well huh?”

“Well, I was practically glued to Jimin when we were in school.”

“What happened with you guys anyway? I thought you guys were like soulmates or something.”

“We just wanted different things,” you mumble, not wanting to elaborate. “What about you, hmm? Being a model in LA and Vegas? I’m sure you have women wanting to crawl into bed all the time.”

His gaze catches yours. “Exhibit A.”

You scoff. “Hey! We’re friends—that’s the only reason why you’re in my bed.”

“Uh huh. I saw the way you were eyeing me during the painting session. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Jungkook teases, making you stop coloring, and pinch his underarm. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, just kidding!” He moves away, but you pull him back.

“Hey! I’m almost done coloring,” you say, gripping tighter onto his arm.

“That’s not fair. Only you get to color me?”

You sigh, tilting your head. “I’ll let you draw one thing on me.”

“Can I pick the location of where to draw it?”

“As long as it’s not my tits or ass.”

Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh. “Alright, how about your—”

Your hand flies to cover his mouth, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “Jeon Jungkook! That’s a hard no!”

“You practically saw my junk and I can’t see yours?”

“Well, I paid for it.”

“I can pay you too.”

You gasp. “You can’t just buy me.”

“Fine. Give me a few options and I’ll choose the placement.”

It would be easy to choose a place more visible, but you’re feeling frisky. “My hip or my back.”

Jungkook lips his licks, eyes flicking to your hips then back up at you. “And I can draw anything I want?”

You hum with a nervous tremble. You’re sure he wouldn’t draw anything ridiculous. “I trust you.”

“‘Kay then, turn over on your belly. Top off.”

Sitting up, facing Jungkook, your hands fall to the first button on your linen vest. Your eyes never leave his as you continue to unfasten the rest, then you toss it aside, revealing a blush pink see-through bra with floral detailing. Jungkook is trying his best to not let his eyes wander lower and you’re trying to do the same. Yes, you’ve stared at his half-naked body for an hour tonight, but you didn’t have the chance to explore it up close.

“Is this okay?” You know it is, but you’d like confirmation.

“Mmm.” He gestures for you to lie down, and you do as he asks.

Jungkook reaches for a black marker, the tip is thinner than the others. He shifts his position a few times before lying comfortably next to you. The warmth from his body radiates, heating up against your skin. You lie on top of your crossed arms, facing him, wondering what he’s planning to draw. Maybe some flowers or stars.

His brows are knitted as he’s concentrated on where to begin. He starts on the middle of your back, drawing circular shapes from what you can tell. The tip of the marker grazes back and forth, and his hand and fingers emanate a gentle touch upon your skin.

He’s quite handsome, you think. Even the scar etched on his cheek has a certain beauty, and his nose must be a butterflies favorite place to land on.

“Is it okay if I unhook this?”

“Hmm?”

“Your um,” he clears his throat. “Your bra.”

You’ve been too focused on Jungkook’s face, you hadn’t realized he was halfway down your back. “Yeah, um, go for it.”

He unhooks your bra in one fell swoop and the sides of your bra fall to the side. Continuing with his design, he concentrates on the smallest details going down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut as his warm breath softly fans the wet ink on your skin.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asks, trying to make conversation, realizing he doesn’t know you well, besides when you were with Jimin.

“Single as can be. What about you? A girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Situationship?”

Jungkook laughs. “What kind of life do you think I lead here, hm? That’s a lot of assumptions about me.”

“I don’t know. I just assume that someone that looks like you would have someone is all.”

“Well, I’m also single, and I’m a more monogamous kinda guy.”

“You are?” you question with a dramatic gasp. “That comes as a nice surprise. Maybe we should go get married tonight in a chapel,” you joke.

“With a few more drinks in me, I’m sure I’d say yes to anything.”

“Stop—don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious. I’m ready to meet someone and do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but a lot of the people I meet just want sex.”

“I’m sorry, did I just meet a guy who doesn’t want sex?”

Jungkook deadpans. “I didn’t say I don’t want sex. I do—I just wanna be a romantic and spoil someone.”

“Oh, well, you can always wine and dine me. I won’t object,” you tease.

As Jungkook continues drawing, the pads of his fingers create a light buzz of electricity, from one end to the other. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing from his soft touch. You almost let out a low moan but catch yourself when he gets to a ticklish spot near your ribs.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think the right person will come along for you?”

A beat passes before he answers. “Yeah, I think so. Whoever they are, I just know that I'm probably not ready to meet them yet, but the right time will come.”

“But what if the right person came at the wrong time?”

“Or…you were the right person in the wrong place,” he suggests. “Are you talking about Jimin?”

“Yeah, I've been trying to avoid talking about him. He recently got married and his wife is pregnant too.”

“Ah, don't tell me you're feeling shitty? ‘Cause you shouldn't.”

A sad chuckle leaves your lips. “I'm pretty sure I fumbled it.”

Jungkook stops drawing on your back, softly calling your name, in which you hesitate to look at him for fear of bursting into tears.

“Hey…you didn't fumble anything. Pretty sure it's Jimin’s loss.”

“You're sweet, Kook. Thanks.”

Jungkook continues on his quest to finish his drawing.

“Is it almost finished?” you ask, clearing your throat. The tequila and champagne are starting to wear off and tomorrow’s reality is beginning to settle in. Tonight feels like a dream and you don’t want to wake up.

He hums. “Almost. Just a few more details then we’ll be good to go.” Short strokes lightly mark across your back and he doesn’t break his concentration. He continues for a few minutes before closing the cap. “Done. Wanna see?”

“I’m not gonna lie. I’m low-key scared to see what it is.”

Jungkook straightens his posture then reaches for his phone. “You have nothing to be scared of. It’s pretty. I promise.” He takes a photo, showing it to you.

Though the drawing session didn’t feel long, you could see the intricate detailing he went into drawing the moon phases down your back.

Sitting up then turning away from Jungkook, you use your arm to cover your breasts and secure your bra. “Are you always good at everything?” you ask, standing and walking over to the dresser, you pull out an oversized shirt, slipping it on, then you grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. There’s just enough to end the night.

Jungkook shifts to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and you slot yourself right in between. “Nah, I’m not good at everything.”

“Oh yeah? What are you not good at?” you ask, making him hold a glass while you pour his then yours.

He chuckles, looking away, then back up at you. “For starters, I’m not good at flirting.”

“You’re lying.” Your eyes lock in on his as you set the empty bottle down on the floor.

“I’m not.”

“Okay, practice on me then,” you say, trying to persuade him.

“A bit of liquid courage might help.”

You raise your glass and clink it against his. “Bottoms up.” The both of you wince as you knock them back, tossing the glasses on the carpeted flooring.

“Better?” you inquire, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Jungkook’s fingers delicately trace up and down your thighs, sending tingles across every inch of skin. His eyes are so starry, you’ll gladly get lost in them.

“You’re pretty.”

“Could say the same about you,” you giggle, twirling his hair in your fingers. “You’re right.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, reveling at your touch against his skin. “Mm, about what?”

“That you’re bad at flirting.” Your eyes linger on his lips, wondering what they taste like and how much you’d like to kiss the chocolate chip mole right underneath his bottom lip.

He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his feet then back at you. “Told you,” he says as he pulls away, propping himself up on the bed. He scans you from head to toe, loving the fact that you’re in between his legs. Hasn't seen you in years, but he’s intrigued.

Letting out a yawn, you cover your mouth then apologize.

“Damn, didn’t think my non-flirting would put you to sleep.”

You laugh. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be an even longer one tomorrow.”

“Right, I should head out too.” Jungkook shifts, scooting to the edge of the bed but you don’t budge.

“Do you wanna stay? Since it’s pretty late already.” Nearly 3 AM and you know you’ll regret this but right now, you’ll indulge in whatever’s left of this trip.

Jungkook’s silent for a moment before answering, “Sure. I’ll stay.”

You crawl over him, slipping under the covers that have been calling your name for the past few hours. The plush, fluffy pillows are like a cloud as you lay your head down. Jungkook follows your lead, doing the same, facing you. His fringe gently falls, covering his eyes, and you find yourself moving them out of his face.

“You’re cute,” you whisper, letting your finger trace his cheeks to his jawline.

“I don’t really like being cute,” he hums.

“Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” You inch closer to him, and can feel the warmth radiating off his body. It feels nice to be in close proximity to another human being again. And you like that there are no expectations. You can just be with Jungkook. The two of you run in the same circle of friends, and he makes you feel safe—like if anything were to happen to you tonight, he’d take care of you.

Your eyes flick to his lips, lingering longer than expected, and your cheeks are warming up, ridding the last bit of alcohol coursing through your veins.

Jungkook moves in, closing the distance. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, lips ghosting each other in a delicate dance before finally meeting in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other. Hearts beating in perfect harmony, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

With your breaths mingled, it creates a cocoon of intimacy as you savor the softness of each other's lips. Your fingers entwined in his hair, drawing him closer, bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of desire.

The last leg of this trip was fate trying to make you forget about your worries, and Jungkook was the perfect color to paint over your monochrome palette.

There’s a longing deep inside you wanting to escape, and as much as you want to release it, you’d rather have him when you’re sober and in the right mindframe.

“Ro…” Jungkook moans as he pulls away, your hands splayed on his taut chest, forehead resting against his.

“Yeah?” you reply, leaning in for another kiss.

“I don’t want you like this,” he says, taking you by surprise, almost like he could read your mind.

Letting out a chuckle, you answer, “No—yeah, makes sense.”

“It’s not that ‘I don’t want you’, I do! I just—don’t want this to turn out like other flings I’ve had in the past because I don’t consider you ‘a fling’ or someone to just toss the next day because we’re friends and I would never do that to—“

You interrupt him with a peck on his lips. “Jungkook. I understand. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tonight and that’s all thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“No, you did! You helped me loosen up.”

“I’m sure it was just the champagne and tequila doing all the work.”

“They helped, but it was mostly you.” You smile, letting a beat pass before speaking again. “Should we try to get some sleep?”

He hums, leaning in for a kiss, in which you willingly give. You tug on his silver chain, asking for a few more kisses before letting him go.

Not even three minutes in and Jungkook is already snoring. His chest rising and falling, rumbling like a mountain. It’s cute, you think. Could get used to listening to this, almost like white noise.

You admire how Jungkook lives his life without worries, letting the wind guide him. It might not happen right away, but maybe when you return to reality, you should consider not always staying within the lines. That it’s okay to go out of bounds and live a little. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.

—

There’s a light sound of pitter patter sweeping across the floor with shushed ‘Ows’ and ‘shut up’. You weakly open your eyes to see what the commotion is. Your body wants to get up, but the pounding migraine is saying otherwise.

A loud thump makes you blink your eyes open and pop your head up. There’s furniture knocked over, tequila and champagne bottles are scattered everywhere, along with clothes and money.

The low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover yourself with the duvet. They’re facing away and you can’t make out who this mystery person is. You peer over to find a man covered in tattoos, and it looks like a child tried to color inside the tattoo lines but failed miserably.

He mumbles gibberish under his breath and turns over onto his stomach. Great, now you can’t even get a good look at him, you think.

His silver necklace glimmers from the sun peeking through the blinds. And holy shit—his shoulders?

Broad.

Chiseled.

For all you know, he could be some kind of athlete. Then you notice the purple lines on his back, and no—they aren’t scratches from nails, the lines connect from one beauty mark to the next across his back. It’s like one of those connect the dot pictures, except the finished drawing wasn’t anything recognizable. But surrounding each beauty mark is a pair of red lips, and as you look down at your hands, you find that you’re the culprit who must’ve drawn on this man.

What the fuck happened last night, you think.

Another groan escapes the man’s lips and he turns over again. You pull up your side of the duvet, further covering yourself, and the smallest gasp comes out. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, an old college buddy.

The duvet is pulled down, covering his bottom half, revealing his taut chest and not one, two, three, four—but an eight pack set of abs. Is it humanly possible to even have more than six?

How did he end up in Vegas? And specifically in your room?

“Jungkook?” you whisper. “Are you awake?”

“Mmm…”

You move closer, feeling the warmth from his body. “Jungkook, it’s time to get up.”

Still half asleep, he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “Just five more minutes, Ro,” he says, nuzzling into you.

“Jeon Jungkook! What are you doing?”

He chuckles, smiling, finally peeking his eyes open. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

“I…remember things…” you say, lying through your teeth.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook moves into a sitting position, turning to you. “So you know we got married, right?”

Your jaw drops and eyes widen. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re lying.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!”

How could you let yourself get married in Las Vegas? And at your best friend’s bachelorette party? It’s not like you’re trying to steal her thunder, quite the opposite, really. This was supposed to be about her, not you. Fuck—Lottie’s going to hate you, isn’t she?

Jungkook quietly watches you freak out. Wonders how long he can let this continue before telling the truth. He thinks you’re cute when you’re all flustered.

“No, we can't be married! I don't even know you and how would this even work? We live like 3000 miles away from each other? And would you move to New York? Or would I move to LA? What if your family doesn't like me? Your friends even? Wait–do you even like me? Oh–Jungkook, how did we let this happen?” you ask, burying your hands in your face.

Question after question runs through your mind and Jungkook is sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“Why aren't you freaking out?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

Jungkook chuckles, leaning over toward you. “You're really cute, you know that?” he says.

Your eyes follow his finger as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, it's time to get down to the important things. “Kook–please! This isn't the time to tell me I'm cute. We have bigger things to worry about. We're married!”

He sucks in his lips, trying to hold in a laugh.

You knit your brows and narrow your eyes. “Unless…we’re not married…”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh, his finger gently caresses your cheek. “Maybe one day, pretty girl. If we ever get to that stage of course.”

A smack against his arm reverberates throughout the room. “Aye! I'm gonna kill you. You really had me worried.”

He rubs the ruby red spot that's imprinted on his arm. “Why? Because marrying me would've been horrible?”

No, you think, quite the opposite.

“Of course not. It's just, we don't know each other and I wouldn't want you to feel trapped in a marriage,” you explain.

You'd at least wanna go on a real date and get to know him before strapping him down forever.

He nods in agreement. “Well, I had fun last night. Hence all the things I let you do to me.” Jungkook points out the badly colored arm and connect-the-dots on his back.

“Oh, I'm so sorry about that.”

“I'm not. I'm glad you had fun even though you don't remember it.”

“Please tell me I didn't act like an idiot.”

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you're fine, but uh, I should get going since you have a flight to catch.”

“Oh, shit. My flight.” You reach over to find your phone. It's already 9 AM, and thankfully the airport isn't far away and TSA Pre-check has been a lifesaver.

With another glance, you see your clothes and Jungkook's scattered on the ground. He reaches to grab his shirt and sweats.

“I, um, I was pretty bold last night. Wasn't I?” you were referring to the pair of lips covering his back.

Jungkook snickers. “Yeah, just a bit, but I didn't mind it at all,” he says, slipping his shirt on. He stands, putting his sweats on and you can't help but stare at his peachy ass in his black Calvin Klein–the tight kind. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”

Your mind thinks back to the whirlwind of last night. There was definitely alcohol involved because you only act with confidence under the influence of Tequila.

But a recollection of soft lips and entangled hair between your fingers flutter back into the present just for a fleeting moment.

You shake your head, wanting to keep this memory to yourself.

Jungkook's lips thin into a smile as he ruffles his bed head hair. “Call me next time you're in town?”

You stand to meet him. “Or you can call me when you're in the Big Apple,” you reply, handing him your phone.

He dials your number, so you can have his. “Mm, looks like that confidence hasn't left yet.”

“Mm, I have a smidge of it left.”

“Yeah?” He draws closer, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” you whisper, taking in his warmth and scent.

Last night was hazy but bits and pieces are coming back. You're not sure if a lot of these moments with Jungkook are real or just a dream. You'd like to hope he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him.

“It was really good to see you, Kook.”

“Good to see you too, Ro. Don't be a stranger, okay?” He turns on his heel to open the bedroom door, but turns around to say one last thing. “Oh, and don't worry too much about the right person. Who knows, maybe you’ve met them already.”

You wonder if he's referring to himself. You have to admit, he's been making you smile and laugh more than usual, even making you blush.

“Mm, I'll keep that in mind.”

He flashes a smile, opening the door.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, turning to you again.

You reach up to kiss him on the cheek. “What happened in Vegas, can it not stay in Vegas?”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfic

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sweettea-and-honeybutter · 28 days ago

Text

Take You There II

Song that inspired this chapter...

A/N: Whewwww thank you for your patience 🥲💕 um I actually don't know what's happening to me but im actually enjoying? writing a slow burn?!? I just really love what's happening here in their little world. The whole story is inspired by HER's Take You There, but I love music so much not to have a different song on replay for every chapter I write. As always your feedback, likes, and rebloggs are so appreciated 🥰

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)

Warning: its a smidge explicit in the beginning, but other than that its a steamy, slightly angsty fluff

Word Count: 5,791 🥴

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 2

Reign tried to divide her attention evenly between her chatty client explaining her plans for an anime sleeve, and the fine details she was trying to capture on the girl's bicep. Her 19th birthday was right around the corner and Reign had the pleasure of giving her her first tattoo, a cute black cat from Sailor Moon that showed up beautifully on her tan skin. But if she were completely honest, her mind was also distracted with persistent thoughts of one Terry Richmond.

He texted her a few hours after he’d left, asking her to give him a list of places she liked and he’d pick one to take her too, still wanting to surprise her but needing to be pointed in the right direction being so new to the area. She didn’t expect him to keep up the conversation after that, but he texted her all night and day. His texts were short and straight forward, even when complimenting her scent and noting how it lingered on his clothing. But he was consistent and inquisitive and she liked it, knowing he was much warmer in person.

Reign went through the motions of wrapping her client’s tattoo, nodding along as the woman gushed over how perfectly she’d captured Luna’s personality. But Reign’s focus kept slipping—an almost electric feeling humming in her chest, like a live wire sparking whenever she thought of Terry. After her last client left, he’d be there to pick her up. The thought of being close to him again—close enough to catch that smile that seemed like it was meant just for her, to fall into those eyes whose intensity shifted like the sky before a storm—made her heart race in a way she hadn’t ever felt before. She’d been attracted to plenty of men and women alike, but the anticipation of discovering everything there is to know about Terry had her buzzing with energy.

Reign walked her client to the door, trying her hardest not to rush the oblivious girl, and as soon the door shut behind her, Reign turned and sprinted to the bathroom, eager to freshen up and change clothes for the night. She shot Terry a quick text letting him know to come on in when he gets there and proceeds to strip out of her comfy clothes. She reapplied the tonka bean body butter she’d put on earlier today fresh out of her morning shower, and then hit all the warm areas on her skin with her signature jasmine perfume, hoping that throughout the night her scent wafts to Terry's nose every time his gaze makes her body flush.

All the places she’d sent Terry were pretty lowkey, so she kept her outfit for the night simple-a black linen button down paired with a forest green suede skirt, a black belt with a gold buckle, and knee high black boots with a sturdy heel that was comfortable to walk in. She began putting on the layers of her fit, panicking when she realized she packed her nice lace panties and totally forgot to grab the matching bra. She turned her duffle bag upside down grumbling to herself “..my titties are too big for this shit” as she frantically looked through all the belongings she’d brought with her knowing she wouldn't have time to go back home after work. Still rummaging through her clothes, she heard her front door chime, opening and closing softly. Quiet steps moved around her studio and she cursed under her breath, still topless while quickly zipping her skirt up and clearing her throat.

“Um Terry?” she hated how loud and high her voice came out, it echoed around the tiny bathroom and she could hear the nerves in her shrill tone.

“Reign.” his deep voice sounded close, and amused, and it sent goosebumps traveling up her body.

“I-I’ll be out in just a second!”

She hurriedly shrugged on her shirt, buttoning it and stylishly tucked it into her skirt. Her racing thoughts drowned out any response he might’ve given from the other side of the door. The soft material brushed her skin, and she sighed as her nipples peaked, prominent against the fabric. She’d been aiming for a cutesy vibe, something mindful and demure as the youngins would say. The snug fit of her blouse told a totally different story.

After a moment’s hesitation, she undid the top three buttons, letting the fabric fall open just enough to reveal the soft swell of her cleavage. The look suddenly felt intentional, the perfect balance of bold and effortless. She bit her lip, glancing at her reflection; it was daring, different, but she couldn’t deny that she looked damn good. With no time left to second-guess herself, she added a few simple accessories, winged liner, mascara, and gathered her braids into a playful half-up, half-down style.

~~~~~~~~

Reign danced around all of Terry’s thoughts since he walked into her world. He truly intended for this tattoo to be a sweet reminder of the bond he shared with his cousin, and while it did serve that purpose, he can’t deny how his mind instantly goes to Reign whenever he looks at it. The gentle way she’d look up at him every so often while she worked, the way she quietly held space for him to unload the grief he carried, her sympathetic affection somehow coaxing him to be open when he’d vowed to close himself off from the rest of the world—he didn't yet have the words to tell her how much that moment meant to him.

Terry knew he was a goner the moment he caught himself grinning at her texts. He didn’t always know what to say, but he didn’t care—he just wanted to be in her thoughts, to have her thinking of him as much as he was thinking of her. Bit by bit, he was learning the quirks that made her who she was. She was a surprisingly animated texter, dropping memes and emojis that made him laugh harder than he’d expected. She had a sweet tooth, a green thumb, and a case of insomnia, which he discovered only after he’d fallen asleep trying to respond to something funny she’d sent at two in the morning. Each new detail felt like a tiny gift, pulling him in deeper than he’d ever planned.

The next day in the early afternoon he headed to the gym to burn off some of his restless energy. He wasn’t exactly nervous, just eager to see her again. A lightness had crept into him that he hadn’t felt in years, a tentative hopefulness about this new city and all it could bring. He reminded himself not to get attached to any particular outcome with her, promising to stay present, to let things unfold naturally. But already, he knew she wasn’t someone he wanted to experience lightly. He wanted to savor every moment, to truly explore who she was, layer by layer.

That thought alone had his desire for her spreading throughout his being like a wildfire. He caught himself wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked, feeling a need to trace his fingers over each tattoo she wore and memorize every curve of her body. She was so beautiful, yet somehow guarded beneath that serene aura. She seemed to move through life unfazed, as if no one could intrude on the calm she’d carved out for herself. Her quiet self-assurance was so enticing to him, and he hoped she’d keep letting him close enough to discover all that she was.

Reign gave him a good variety of places they could go to tonight, little did she know that in due time he planned to go to each of those places with her. But for the night he chose the modern looking food hall because it had so many appetizing options for them to try, and plenty of cozy seating options where he could have her all to himself—no persistent waiters interrupting their conversations, no noisy couples sat too closely to them, he could practically have her all to himself.

The sun was setting as Terry showered, and he wondered if he’d ever get the chance to have Reign in this steamy space with him. He needed to have a clear head when he was with her, needed to have self control to patiently wait for her to let him in. So he leaned back against the warm tile and stroked himself, groaning at the memory of her elusively dark eyes and the idea of tasting the plump lips she chewed on insistently. He let his fantasies guide his hands, thrusting into his fist faster and faster as they became more vivid. Terry cursed and came at the mental image of her writhing under him moaning his name. As he caught his breath and finished his shower he hoped that was enough to keep his thoughts tame for the rest of the night.

Terry dressed quickly, eager to see his—no, to see Reign. He shrugged into a black polo, leaving the top button open, the shirt framing his muscles in a way he hoped would have her eyeing him like she did yesterday, when she thought he wasn’t looking. Dark jeans and black Off-White sneakers completed the fit, and he sprayed cologne over every place he imagined her lips brushing. Grabbing his leather jacket, keys, wallet, and the plant he’d picked up for her earlier, he left his apartment in a hurry, heart already a step ahead.

~~~~~~~

“Okay, whew! Sorry you had to wait! I left something at home, and—” Reign came rushing out of the bathroom, words tumbling to a stop as she spotted Terry leaning back against a chair, one arm draped casually behind him, the other hand resting in his pocket.

They paused, eyes dragging slowly over one another, each undressing the other in their minds. Reign noticed his gray eyes darkening to a stormy, sinful shade, his easy grin widening as he took in her outfit. She couldn't help notice the way the muscles in his thighs flexed as he straightened to his full height, letting out a low whistle.

“Well, don’t you look nice, pretty Reign.” Terry didn’t miss the slight wobble in her step as she closed the space between them. His gaze traced over every detail, his mouth watering at the familiar sweetness of her perfume.

“Yeah,” she breathed, stopping just in front of him and tilting her head up with a soft smile, “you clean up nice too, soldier.” His eyes flicked from her glossed lips back to those warm brown eyes, and he fought the urge to lean in and taste her right there.

Terry pulled himself from his thoughts, his voice soft as he said, “I got something for you.” With a small smile, he revealed the Calathea he’d been hiding behind his back, and Reign’s pretty eyes went wide behind her glasses, a look of genuine delight spreading across her face. The bag she was holding dropped with a careless thud as she gingerly took the beautiful plant into her hands.

“Holy shit!” she whispered, stepping back to admire it more fully, her voice bright with excitement. Terry couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride, knowing he’d chosen well.

"I don’t know anything about plants,” he admitted with a grin, “but I wanted to get you something unique and beautiful… this one felt like you.”

Reign’s smile, wide and warm, made his mind go blank for a moment, and made his dick twitch awake unbeknownst to her. Her hand found his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I love it! I shall call her Maria!” she said, grinning as she skipped over to her desk, carefully setting the plant down under the warm glow of a lamp. He watched her every movement, eyes glued to the sway of her hips and the soft gleam of her exposed skin. When she finally turned back to him, her eyes sparkled, and his chest tightened at his growing feelings for her.

Terry cleared his throat to dissipate the emotion in his voice and picked up her bag, ever the gentleman. He turned his large body halfway towards the door saying “I’m ready when you are.” and Reign nodded happily, turning off lights here and there as she walked past him and he followed a few steps behind, trying not to crowd her space but feeling he was unable to escape the gravitational pull of her aura. She gave her studio one last glance before she opened the door for them, turning to lock up her space and jumping slightly at the feeling of Terry’s large hand on her hip. His touch was warm and grounding, and she let him pull her into his side towards his sleek matte gray BMW x6 M.

~~~~~~~

The drive to Lyric Market was brief but felt like an eternity for Reign. She couldn’t sit still, the scent of his cologne enveloping the car—woody, slightly spicy, and irresistibly masculine. Every breath made her squirm as she fought the urge to melt into a puddle right beside him. When he shot her a curious look, she could only manage a tight smile, acutely aware of her lack of subtlety but unable to play it off.

Terry handed her his unlocked phone, declaring her the DJ for the ride. As the melodic vocals of Sinead Harnett filled the air, Reign let the music express what her tongue couldn't. She watched him with yearning eyes as he reached one long arm toward her, hesitatingly hovering over her thigh before finally resting his hand on the exposed skin just below the hem of her skirt. He didn’t apply any pressure, merely grazing his thumb in mindless circles, affirming his earlier thought that she was as soft as she looked. Reign felt warmth pooling between her legs, almost overwhelming, and she bit her lip, glancing out the window and reminding herself to breathe.

Sensing he might be crossing a line, Terry began to retract his hand, but before he could pull away, she gently covered his with her own, their fingers entwining and remaining that way for the rest of the fifteen-minute drive.

~~~~~~~

Reign inhaled the crisp night air deeply as soon as he opened her door, finally easing her mind away from the depraved movies of them playing in her head. Terry gave her one of his fleeting smiles as he returned his hand to her hip, gripping her tighter when he thought she shivered from the chilly air.

“I’m so happy you chose the food hall!” Terry was finding it hard to look anywhere else that wasn’t Reign. His gaze was intently on her as they walked in, watching her eyes dance under the bright lights as she told him of the waffles from this one place here that she’d been thinking about all day.

He leaned his head down closer to hers as they walked towards the restaurant, unable to stop himself as his lips grazed the shell of her ear,

“I couldn’t get you out of my head this whole day, and you’re telling me all you could think of is-” he paused dramatically, voice dropping to an impossibly deeper octave, “waffles?”

His incredulous tone made Reign snort out a laugh, giving him a cheeky smile as she just barely gave him a side eye.

“You haven’t tried these Terry. The magnificence of the Belgium waffle will change your life!” He doubted it, but he wasn’t going to ruin her fun.

“I’ll try some of yours then, I think I’m feeling ramen for myself tonight.” Reign just nodded and stepped up to the iPad at the counter to place her order. Terry’s hand moved up her hip, to her back, playing with her hair while he looked around the place for them to sit. He turned his attention back to her when felt her start to remove her tiny purse from her shoulder, and he scoffed, gently moving her out of the way so he could pay for her food.

“I don’t even know why you brought that like I was gonna let you pay for your food when I asked you out.” his displeased voice almost sounded like a growl and Reign found that deeply amusing.

“Well I didn’t want to assume, but thank you Terry.” He nodded and grabbed her hand, guiding her towards the ramen spot while her order was being made. It was her turn to observe him under the bright lights in the building. His warm hazelnut complexion created a beautiful contrast where he held her hand, and she admired how their outfits uncannily complemented each other. The wide expanse of his back moved confidently as he walked, and she wondered what it’d be like to wrap her legs around him, if her thighs would get fatigued from squeezing because he was just that wide.

Reign didn’t really hear anything he said to the restaurant worker as he ordered, too lost in her head imagining that deep voice saying all sorts of nasty things to her. She stood close behind him, feminine frame being concealed behind his massive body, so it’s no surprise the young woman behind the counter didn’t see her, and flirted shamelessly with Terry.

Terry looked absolutely bored as he listed off the things he wanted, growing more irritated by the second and Reign was none the wiser, eyes trailing down to his ass because really, what else was she to do back there? Once he paid, Terry turned away from the worker who lacked all decorum, rejecting the receipt that had her number on it, and looked down at Reign who had the cutest caught expression on her face. His face softened as he pulled her a little ways away from the restaurant but positioned her so she could be seen, and he swallowed a laugh at the way the worker huffed and walked away.

They waited for their food and talked about their day. He listened attentively, loving how passionately she spoke of her work. He wanted to touch her as she spoke of all the tattoos she did that day, but he noticed outside of her studio, she moved a lot, kind of slowly swaying to some beat in her head as she talked. The subtle shift of her skirt, and the swell of her breasts moving beneath her shirt, was hypnotizing, and he hung onto her every word.

They got their food and he carried it for them, leading them upstairs to a high backed booth that faced away from the other patrons and activity. They sat so close to each other their thighs touched, and neither of them minded. Terry was just taking out his chopsticks when his ears were blessed with the most wanton moan, and he looked down at Reign, his eyes round and mouth hanging open slightly.

Reign admittedly forgot where she was, as soon as she took a bite of her waffled monte Cristo. She’s just now realizing she’d been too distracted to remember to eat much today, and the sweet and savory combination on her taste buds made everything else fade away. Yes, even Terry himself.

“Mmhmm, that’s what I wanted.” She was too hungry to be embarrassed, too far gone in her ecstasy to be modest about her pleasure. Reign slowly blinked her eyes open, chewing carefully to savor every bite and looked over at Terry with a dopey smile.

His unnerving stillness made her freeze. She’d never seen his eyes so dark, and his upper body was slightly leaning over her, his head cocked to the side so he could peer at her face, not wanting to miss a single second of her. She brushed some of her braids from her face, her smile turning sheepish.

“Sorry, I am staaaarving” she tried to make light of the moment with her tone, trying to ignore the hungry look in his eyes so she, herself, didn’t lose all self control. “Try some!”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her cut him a piece, and opened his mouth obediently when she brought the food up to his lips. Her eyes were glued to his mouth as his tongue darted out to lick powdered sugar from his bottom lip, and she couldn’t help how her fingers grazed his jaw lightly when she pulled her hand back.

He closed his eyes finally and moaned much quieter, breathing deeply, not at the taste of the food, although it was good, but at the amount of restraint he was exerting. He wanted to eat her right on the table. In due time he was telling himself. He swallowed, exhaled, and opened his eyes playfully sizing her up.

“Yeah that was life changing pretty Reign.” He turned to his food, and began eating, leaving her to watch his prominent jaw as he chewed his own food, as if they both weren’t dangerously close to causing a scene just moments ago.

The rumble in her tummy brought her back to her plate, and she continued to eat happily, more aware and mindful of her volume. He finished much faster than she did, and she insisted that he share her fries with her. He wrapped an arm around her, playing with the edge of her skirt and she commented on physical touch being his love language.

“Hmm I think all of them would be my love language for the right person” he fed her a fry and continued “I assume your main one is words of affirmation?”

Reign gave him a funny look. “You calling me a yapper?” And he barked out a surprised laugh.

“No Reign, it was just a guess” she rolled her eyes half heartedly pushing her empty plate away.

“Nah the truth is out pretty boy, now you need to buy me a drink to get back in my good graces” he laughed at her again as he stood and pulled her up out of the booth. He was about to lead her to the bar when she stopped him.

“Nope, over here.” And she dragged him, he purposefully let his feet become heavy because watching her struggle was amusing, over to a place where they could get milkshakes.

“Your sweet tooth is insatiable pretty girl” she smiled up at him and asked for strawberry and offered to split it with him, and he got the clichéd 2 straws. They sat on the diner style barstools and passed the milkshake back and forth, talking about all sorts of things.

She told him about her plans to soon share her studio with more artists, and her dreams of hosting community events there. He admitted to feeling a bit lost, but determined to find more purpose for his life after everything that happened. They asked each other so much as the time pleasantly passed. She avoided answering questions about past relationships, and he avoided questions about his family.

Sudden thunder booming outside made her jump and caused Terry to pull her close to him, losing his train of thought at her hand on his chest, right over his racing heart. Reign groaned looking toward the front door.

“I forgot I walked to work today, I don’t remember rain being in the forecast” Terry tried not to look too eager at that.

“You know I gotchu” he pulled her up out of her seat and gently tugged her skirt down from where it slid up her thick thighs, “I can take you home.”

~~~~~~~

The rain was relentless outside. They were so consumed by each other earlier, they didn’t even realize how much it was coming down. Reign invited Terry inside, not yet ready for him to leave despite how late it was, and he followed her inside telling himself he’d be on his best behavior for her.

Her place was cozy and inviting, much like her studio, and smelled just as sweet as her. She had an apartment on the third floor, the complex nestled against a wooded area, giving her place an almost treehouse feel to it. He watched her move comfortably around her home, dick growing hard unsurprisingly at the domestically of it all.

He heard a little bell jingle and watched a small orange cat with a polka dot bow tie collar trot towards him from down the hall.

“I forgot to ask you if you like cats! That’s Kento, he’s very sweet.” Reign smiled fondly at the fluffy little thing she loved so much, and observed Terry crouch down to let Kento smell his hand. After he apparently passed the vibe check, he picked the kitty up and held him in the palm of his hand, chuckling at the loud purrs leaving it.

“Kento huh? I might steal you away in my pocket” Reigned faked a gasp and snatched her son back, setting him down on his palm tree shaped cat tree.

“You’ve been on my mind all day, and all you want to do is kidnap my only child from me?” she mocked his tone from earlier, making her voice comically deep.

He stood to his full height, casually putting his hands in his pockets and walking around her chairs in her living room not looking at her as he states “that's not all I want to do Reign.”

She swallowed from where she stood by her patio door, watching him drift closer to her as he looked at all her things. He finally stopped in front of her, a playful seriousness on his face as he asked her “what are you hiding out there?” He tilted his head at her patio and she reached behind her to open the door.

The rain slowed and the thunder was slowly rolling away from them, the trees by her balcony preventing her patio from getting wet, and she turned on the twinkling fairy lights that adorned her railing. She had soft turf covering the cement, and lush hanging plants gently swinging near a wide outdoor sofa. Terry sat down and spread his arms across the back of the chair, looking up at her, looking straight out of a fantasy. She stood with her back to the railing, not sure what to do under such an intense gaze.

“Oh um-” her voice came out high and she cleared her throat, trying to calm her nerves, “how’s your new piece holding up?” she gestured to his chest, and he grinned, dropping his arms to unbutton the rest of his polo.

“You tell me.” She was helpless to fight the command in his deep voice, its timbre drawing her near as she sat next to him, placing a hand on his broad thigh to brace herself as she leaned up towards him. Her heart thundered like the night sky as she used her other hand to move his shirt. Terry watched her like a cat would a mouse, hungry and patient. She gave him a proud little smile, knowing he was following all her aftercare instructions seeing as how it looked really good still.

“It looks great” she looked up at him and her breath caught in her throat. They were so close now, and Terry couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of her-lids heavily half concealing her dark eyes, and her smell so intoxicatingly sweet, and her touch burning his thigh damn near setting his body on fire.

“Words can’t express how much I appreciate you for yesterday Reign.” His eyes danced between hers and her lips, and he brought his big hand up to cup her jaw, using his thumb to graze her bottom lip.

“May I?” She didn't fully know what Terry meant, nor did she care; her answer was already a hurried, breathless nod.

He groaned when their lips finally met. He fucking knew it, her lips were plush and soft, her gloss tasted so sweet, and that damn jasmine scent invaded his senses, making him feel drunk off her.

And Reign. She felt like she was drowning in the energy of the moment. The once calm waters of her soul were surging forward as if the levee broke. She put all of her longing into that kiss, didn’t even know she wanted him this badly until this very second. She moaned, the hand on his thigh gripping tightly now, anchoring herself to him, and her other hand fisting his shirt trying to pull him impossibly closer.

Terry’s hand on her jaw moved to the back of her head and tugged her braids just enough to tilt her head up more, prompting her to open her mouth, inviting her with his tongue to take everything she needed from him, sighing into her letting her know that he was ready and willing to be consumed completely.

Reign just couldn’t get close enough, moaning more desperately at the feel of his teeth softly tugging her bottom lip. She boldly threw her leg over his lap, shifting to straddle him. Terry all but growled into the kiss that had turned overwhelmingly lustful, and his hands had a mind of their own, grabbing generous handfuls of her round ass, her skirt up around her waist forgotten as she broke the kiss to breathe.

She threw her head back, hair now a messy halo around her and she moaned again, grinding her ruined panties on the imposing bulge in his pants. Terry’s hips bucked up into her, fingertips squeezing the softness of her ass, and he left bruising kisses down her neck, needing her to take more and more of him.

“Terry” the way she moaned his name, voice beautifully deep and breathless, was a shock to his system, as if cold ice water had been poured down his back. He inhaled sharply, hands moving to hold her back tightly, stilling her movements.

A scary thought flashed in his mind, she’s too good to be true. Terry doesn’t like the turn his mind is taking, he inhales again, soothing his hands along her back as she whimpered above him trying to understand through the haze of desire fogging her mind.

All of this is too good to be true, what did you do to deserve this? Terry fought hard to stay present, to ground himself in the moment, but now so many thoughts were shouting at him, demanding to ruin this fucking beautiful moment. He rested his forehead against her neck, feeling her pulse slow as she tentatively rubbed his shoulders. He groaned, defeated.

“I want you so badly, Reign.” His body was so tense and holding on to her so tightly, she wanted to reassure him that she wants him too, but something told her he wasn't finished.

“I…I’m trying to take my time, trying to be intentional because that’s what you deserve.” He finally brought his head up to look her in the eyes. Both of them reflected such yearning back to each other. He nuzzled her nose softly with his own before continuing.

“And I’m trying to show myself that this is something I can trust. I feel that I can trust this.” His eyes shifted to an imploring green in the low lighting, begging her to understand.

“So much has been snatched from me, and I want this so badly Reign. After today, the ball is in your court.” He gave her a quick kiss to stop whatever she was about to say.

“I know I can trust you with whatever hold you have on me. But just for tonight, I need to show myself that I can exist outside of that fight or flight setting I’m so used to.” He gave her a sad smile, bringing one hand from her back to move her braids away from her face. He wanted to say more, he just didn’t know how.

Reign looked intently into Terry’s eyes, seeing all the emotions he was trying to keep at bay. She understood more than he knew, the scary process of learning to trust again, learning to truly live again. It was a delicate dance, one capable of breaking down the strongest of foundations. She returned his sad smile, not disappointed in the moment being over, but sad that they could relate in such a way.

Reign kept her eyes on his, the quiet understanding between them filling the space, almost tangible. She could see the depth of his struggle, the way he was bracing himself, and she knew words would only scratch the surface of what she wanted him to feel. Gently, she brought one of her hands to his chest, resting it over his heart. She could feel the steady, guarded beat beneath her palm, and she let her touch linger, grounding him in that softness.

After a moment, she leaned in, her lips brushing just beneath his ear, and whispered, “You don’t have to be afraid with me, Terry. I know what’s in my hands, and I’ll hold it carefully.” Her voice was barely above a breath, but each word carried the weight of her promise, steady and sincere.

When she pulled back to meet his gaze, she gave him a small, knowing smile, her hand still pressed to his heart. The look in her eyes was as clear as anything she could say: I see you, and I’m not going anywhere.

And Terry, who rarely found solace in words, felt something in him unwind just a little. He brought his hand up to cover hers, squeezing it gently, letting her touch settle the ache he hadn’t been able to name.

He drove home that night basking in the quietness she’d left in his mind, his tortured thoughts had morphed into simply replaying sweet scenes with her. And she fell asleep much easier than she normally does, waters of her soul not just serene on the surface, but all the way down to her ocean floor.

~~~~~~~

Not me just now realizing this may be the same Terry from Sweet Dreams 💀. I have a really raunchy request and a spooky request to fulfill before I can post chapter 3 🥲 but hopefully an update will come faster than the last one 💕 thank you in advance for your patience!!!

Taglist: @teddybeerz @liatreads @eviescloset @sageispunk @planetblaque @soft-persephone @violetmuses @miyuhpapayuh @iterum-incipi @slutsareteacherstoo @blackgurlnhermoods @helloncrocs @megamindsecretlair @meannaim @blyffe @nun0ir @onherereading @eilujion @maria-gab-rielle @gg-trini @gwenda-fav @violetlovezzz @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @honeytoffee @avoidthings @brattyfics @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @kumkaniudaku @pocketsizedpanther @mysecretdiaryofableedingheart @amyhennessyhouse

#take you there #rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond fic #terry richmond x black oc #rebel ridge fanfiction #Spotify

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shiro41 · 10 months ago

Text

Fluffy ears- Alastor

Summary: You always want to touch his ears but unfortunately for you, he rejects the very idea of it until he lets you.

Warnings: sub!Alastor, blowjob, brief mentions of a tentacle, drools, him in a rut?, dom turned sub reader, humping.

Note: this is my first time publishing a smut piece-- im anxious.

You always wondered how the fluff of the man's ears sit atop of his head, moving in sync with his moods and reactions. It wiggles, sometimes pinned on his head like a saddened pup, most times relaxed and stood proudly on his head. You wonder how they feel like.

"Please, Alastor?"

You put your hands in front of you, batting your lashes the best you could as you begged the overlord to let you touch his ears. His fluffy, fluffy ears. Knowing Alastor, he despises any form of physical contact unless he initiated first and touching his ears is a positive no. Which you got.

"Pretty please! I'll do anything!"

The smile on his face never wavered, staying the same size yet, his red spheres glowered with the slightest bit of irritation.

"My dear, touching my ears is a no. I'd appreciate it if you forget the ever thought of it."

He tapped your nose with his microphone, leaning down to your height and close his eyes-- smile still remaining. This resulted with a huff from you, growing equally as irritated and curious as he is. You watch him walk off, probably towards his radio station to broadcast yet another episode of pained screams of the unfortunate souls.

"I swear I'll get to touch it!"

You murmured to yourself, forming a fist as a rush of determination flowed through your ever being. You run to your room with the thought of his fluffs, ignoring the shaking heads of the staff.

"You think she'll ever touch 'em?"

Angel asked, turning to his cat friend who shook his head in disagreement.

Weeks passed and you still ask for the same thing to the radio demon, consistently begging for your hands to land on top of his head and within those weeks, he's been rejecting the idea nonstop.

"Come on, Alastor! Just five minutes!"

"No."

"Fine, four!"

"Still a no, darling."

Another interaction failed, it left you puffing smoke out of your nose from the forming irritation boiling in your blood. At this Point, the both of you find one another annoying. How persistent despite the many times of statements with the same content.

Of course, even the most patient man has his limits and it didn't happen until dozens of months passed where you took the advantage of the radio demon's vulnerable state of mating. He's a deer, it's perfectly normal to have these cycles once a year--maybe twice. You're not an expert with animals.

"Alastor, please let me touch your ears!"

You come to him again, noticing the relaxed posture yet the shaking of his grip on the microphone gave way to the battles inside him at the moment. He simply gave out a sigh, grabbing ahold of your hand and teleporting you to his room that's resembled the forest.

"Can I touch you now?"

A growing excitement evident in your voice, gasping as Alastor agreed and sat down on the cold ground covered with lush greens. His claws simply guided you to lay on his lap, like a father would comforting his child. They nestled and made home on your hips, occassionally brushing the skin beneath the clothes you wore as he lowered his head to give you full access to the red ears that heated due to the rushing blood and hormones he's experiencing at the moment.

"Be careful, darling. I can't promise a night of only receiving the pleasures of touching my ears."

He warned, reminding you he may not restraint himself from the animal instincts and growing need to reproduce. You, aware of the situation, nodded in understanding. So long as you can come to contact with the deer's ears, nothing is worth regretting.

You notice the first touch, it twitching in a manner so gentle you let a coo of compliments to him. The static noise of what you believe were small grunts and moans coming from Alastor deafened your ears, the pair only tucked more to his head when you massaged the base of it until the tips.

Soon enough, you find yourself touching his sensitive ears as he occassionally quivered underneath your touch, head burrowed in the crook of your neck and saliva running down his chin. His claws threaten to dig deeper into your hips, constantly restraining himself from hurting you physically. The statics have worsened, now sounding similar to purring yet, still with the whines and murmurs of encouragement from him.

He's melting in your touch.

"A-ah..please keep it u-up..! Kngh--"

He whimpered, feeling your hands travel from his soft ears to his small, hard antlers. It was rough to the touch, feeling like branches but the softness of the fur of his ears brushing up on your wrists was enough to get you going.

"Ooh it seems l-like I can't handle it a-ah..any further, chèr..!"

He breathed, moving your hips to grind on his crotch in a slow pace. You didn't mind the movement, opting to focus on your goal at hand and that is to savour every moment with the two pairs sitting atop his red head. Your skirt is pushed up until your thighs, barely showing the pink panties you wore today. It's patched with slight wetness in the middle, indicating your aroused figure in the situation you're in. Alastor underneath you was not far from your state, bucking his hips every time you brush your fingers against his head and occassionally travel to his cheeks and jaw before circling again on top.

The grinding didn't maintain its pace, now only moving faster the longer you went and the harder Alastor's hips thrust to meet your clothed cunt that's soaked with wetness resulting in his pants to stain too.

"Oh, Mon cher! I'm about to cum...!"

He breathed, continuing to produce whines after whines as you nip at the sensitive ear of his while the other's been massaged by your hand. You can feel Alastor drooling, the evidence being your discoloured shirt that's wet from his saliva, sliding down the cleavage of your chest. He whimpers with every meeting of his crotch coming to contact with your clothed pussy, almost rolling his eyes back as he feels himself getting closer by the minute.

"Oh darling, please let me cum."

He begged, eliciting a moan from you. Your stomach flipped with butterflies with every word of him begging you to let him have a satisfying release, you feel his tongue slither from your collarbone to your jaw, moaning while doing so. He's drooling a ton, almost bathing you in the process.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck--"

He chanted, voice echoing throughout the forest of his room like a broken record- statics incoherent and almost deafening until warmth spread from his crotch and feeling it on your pussy. He's creamed in his pants, the tent evident that he's been uncomfortably hard yet, you continue your abuse to his already sensitive ears, not letting him ride his release which caused a shriveled whine mixed with scream at the sudden sensation.

"Oh fuck! Oh, I can't take it! I can't take it, I can't- I can't-"

Again like a broken record, his voice transmitted a series of incoherent noise. The hands on his ears suddenly disappeared, cutting off the source of his scarce pleasure before he felt the belt of his pants being unbuckled and removed, not at the very least ashamed of the cum covered boxers once you pulled down the thick material of his pants.

You no longer towered him, instead kneeling in front of his sitting figure. The sight of the thin fabric that covered his obviously hard, wet cock made you moan. It was leaking with precum, pouring out of hid boxers before your tongue decided to take a taste of heaven in hell.

"Aahh..!"

A long drag of Ahs and a claw at the back of your neck has Alastor throwing his head back until his head collided with the tree behind. Your head pressed against the heat of his dick, rubbing your cheek affectionately against it as you look at those reds of his through the clumps of your eyelashes, eyes covered with thick lust.

His hand wiped the saliva off the corners of his mouth, now removing the stray of locks from your face and slowly taking out his angry red dick that's been begging to be released and aching to be touched. With its size, it slapped you in the process resulting with sticky cum kissing your cheek, the overlord repeating the process time and time again, swaying the hard organ across you and enjoy the sight of your tongue poking out ever so slightly, enticing him to fill it up with his thick cock.

"A-ah..ah no..let me savor this first, dear girl."

He tried to create dominance, continuing to tease you with his dick encircling your mouth but never in it. This resulted with an impatient whine coming out of your mouth, a hand coming to travel to your gaping pussy still clad in pink, wet panties but unfortunately, a tentacle wrapped itself onto your wrist- effectively preventing you from giving yourself pleasure.

A small sigh escape his lips, looking at your hazed lustrous expression before finally inserting his dick inside your awaiting mouth. The tentacle still was on your wrist and come to binding both of your hands behind your back, preventing you any self pleasure with the exception of his dick inside your mouth.

"Take it in, Darling..!"

He murmured, his hand massaging your aching scalp whilst his ruby spheres looked down at you with a hint of sadism that matched his mischievous smirk.

He could only hear your muffled whines as you tried to claw the tentacle that wrapped your wrist together, he could see the evident teardrops forming and sliding down your cheeks as your throat caved in and took the shape of his cock perfectly.

"Mhn, such a good girl...!!""

He praised, hand travelling from your scalp to your chin that's covered with a thin coat of saliva and cum. He's been so lost in pleasure that he lost track of time how long your mouth has been stuffed by his cock.

You feel the sudden pull of your head, forcing you to release Alastor's dick from your mouth that stood tall, thick and angry red from you sucking him like an infant to a mother for the past minutes. Alastor glanced at the streaming saliva that travelled down from your chin to the valleys of your perky breasts, mixed with his thick, white semen that you seem to not get enough of.

"I'm sorry about this, love."

#alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #smut #x reader #alastor x reader #tentacles #ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT #HELP

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