#and he has to try to keep a straight face because oh absolutely serious topic not laughable at all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emmg · 11 days ago

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WIP whenever

because @heylittleriotact uno reverse'd me lmfao

bc grading essays is overrated, so here’s a lil’ something from the ridiculous fic I’m forcing my keyboard to suffer through. Plot? Absolutely none. Just Emmrook going on “dates” (and like also… smutty dates) suggested by the other clowns haunting the Lighthouse. This one’s SUPPOSED to end in a coffee date—because Lucanis—but I haven't written that yet lol

Honestly, it’s like… smut-crackfic with necromancy puns that should be punishable by law. I keep saying I’ll write a serious Emmrich one day, but let’s be real, that day isn’t today

Anyway, title? Don’t have one. I'm just throwing a bunch of dashes and slapping a read-more right before it gets too long so it doesn't invade anyone's dash

--------------

It’s the most absurd scene. Like, truly bonkers.

She hovers in the doorway, conveniently camouflaged by shadows, because though the cringe levels are searing her soul, she simply cannot look away. It’s like watching a runaway cart barreling downhill, if said cart was cobbled together with blissful ignorance and top-tier ineptitude.

There, crammed onto Harding and Neve’s favorite tiny sofa, are Lucanis and Emmrich. And they’re... talking? Sort of? It’s the most agonizing conversation she’s ever been subjected to, and that’s saying something. Lucanis is flailing his hands around, using them more than words, trying to drive home whatever point he’s failing spectacularly to make. Meanwhile, Emmrich, ever the dignified one, has one leg crossed so neatly over the other that it creates this little triangle of space that she suddenly wants to crawl into and hide from the embarrassment radiating off both of them.

"You see," Lucanis laments, his fingers forming that universal gesture of the confused and the desperate, “we went for coffee. But she, well, threw it back. Like a shot of spirits. It was not just any brew. This was from the frost-bitten slopes of the Vimmark Mountains. A dark roast with notes of juniper and just a hint of wild honey. You don’t just drink something like that—you experience it.” He shakes his head. “Her focus was all on that new case file, instead. And fish. Fried fish."

Emmrich nods along thoughtfully. “I understand. However, if I may be so bold, Lucanis, have you perhaps thought of discussing something besides coffee? A change of topic might open new avenues.”

"I did offer to sharpen her knives."

“Knives,” Emmrich repeats, as though weighing the term’s philosophical import. “And… Neve is known to possess a significant collection of blades?”

“No,” says Lucanis, flat as a pancake.

“Ah,” Emmrich replies, offering a sage nod. A wise and knowing “ah,” as if that somehow clarified things. "An unusual approach, then."

Desperate to claw himself out of this conversational pit, Lucanis asks, “Well, what is it you and Rook… do?” He stumbles over the words, as though simply asking has exhausted his entire social skill set for the year.

And now, it’s Emmrich’s turn to squirm. She can almost see his moustache twitching, wishing it could detach itself from his face and make a run for the hills. He looks away, frowning slightly, as though consulting some vast internal library.

They don’t go on dates. Please. Not even the hilariously doomed sort that Lucanis somehow subjected Neve to. For one, neither of them has the time for candlelit strolls with the world about to be ripped apart by blighted elven gods strutting around like they own the place.

Usually, she just pops into his room and fucks him while he pontificates about the finer points of romance. Oh, she always lets him go on for a hot minute, but once her lips are on his throat and her hands start wandering further south, he finally gets the hint, and that highbrow nonsense about “dignified courtship” goes straight out the window.

Emmrich, after clearing his throat, finally answers, "We discuss books."

From her shadow, she snorts. He's not wrong, technically. Just the other night, she had perched in his lap while he was reading some dry treatise on Fade energy attunement and the properties of dawnstone. He’d even launched into a detailed explanation while she kissed her way down his jaw and neck, hardly deterred by the lecture. Finally, when her hand wandered beneath his shirt, Emmrich, after a brief struggle to finish his monologue, allowed the tome to tumble from his grip.

So yes, “discussing books” might be accurate, but it’s hardly the whole story. And yet here sits Emmrich, steadfast in his scholarly pride, while Lucanis looks ready to take a long walk off a very short pier. She’s not sure which of them is more tragic.

“Hm,” says Lucanis, apparently having reached the absolute zenith of his conversational abilities.

“Ah,” Emmrich replies, with all the enthusiasm of someone describing mildew yet also, somehow, managing to sound very polite about it.

She saunters over to break this pathetic monotony of wall-staring both are currently engaged in.

“My dear,” Emmrich perks up, relief flooding his face as though she’s just rescued him from the depths of some social hell. His voice is full of that charming lilt he uses when he’s desperate to salvage his dignity.

He makes a half-hearted attempt to stand, all dignified and well-bred, but she waves him off with a lazy hand, signalling him to stay seated. And stay he does. Without missing a beat, she slides into his lap, practically draping herself sideways over him, arms winding around his neck. He tenses for a moment, exhales in resignation, but eventually gives in, one hand resting at the small of her back, fingers just barely grazing the line between respectable and… well, decidedly not.

“I hate when you do that,” Lucanis snarls from across the sofa, jabbing a finger at her.

“Yes, it’s not very proper,” Emmrich says with solemnity, though he’s showing absolutely zero signs of protest about her whole backside pressing against him.

With a serene, mischievous grin, she stretches her legs, casually extending them until they’re firmly invading Lucanis’ personal space.

“Mierda,” he grumbles, swatting at her ankle with all the fervor of a cat being swiped at by an annoying feather. “Rook.”

She just grins that beautifully infuriating grin. “Go back to your pantry, Lucanis,” she says sweetly, her tone one of pure, serene malice. “The gouda is getting lonely.”

Lucanis stalks off, glowering as if he’d chuck a knife at her head if he had one in hand. And she’s fairly sure he would.

She blows him a kiss. He shows her the middle finger. They’ll have coffee in the morning.

Meanwhile, Emmrich, ever the portrait of indulgent patience, looks up at her from his cozy place beneath her with a satisfied hum. “How was your day, darling?”

“Good,” she sighs, stretching further until her legs are practically colonizing whatever’s left of Lucanis’ side of the sofa. “Yours?”

Emmrich raises an eyebrow. Makes a contemplative sound deep in his throat. “Enlightening. Lucanis and I were just having… an intriguing discussion.”

“Oh?” she purrs, eyes glinting. “About what, pray tell?”

“Courtship,” he says, savoring the word as though it were some priceless artifact he’s just dusted off from an ancient shelf.

She smirks. “I’m sure you gave him absolutely riveting advice.”

“I certainly tried.” He heaves a great sigh, even rolls a shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Though, I fear our preferred methods diverge.”

“‘Preferred methods’?” she echoes, giving his thigh a playful squeeze. “Do enlighten me.”

Emmrich gives her a look that’s half-scholar, half-sufferer. “Well, I fancy a touch of romance, some… sentimentality, if you will. And Lucanis…”

“And Lucanis?” she goads.

“His idea of a grand romantic gesture involves… knives,” he finishes with a sigh of pure exasperation.

She can’t hold back the snort that escapes. “I mean, yeah, it’s Lucanis. Did you expect anything different?” She presses a little closer, trouble dancing in her eyes. “But for what it’s worth, I do love talking about books with you… so very much.”

Emmrich doesn’t miss a beat, a hint of sarcasm curling his lips. “So I’ve gathered.”

“Tell me more about your books, Emmrich,” she coos, batting her eyelashes with all the enthusiasm of a third-rate actress in a chintzy Orlesian play.

“If you’re genuinely interested, I would gladly oblige.”

“Oh, I’m interested,” she purrs, lowering her voice to a husky whisper. “In you talking… while you bend me over your desk.”

Emmrich rolls his eyes, his facade of feigned innocence dissolving in an instant. “There it is,” he says, shaking his head, fully resigned, and yet absolutely, unflinchingly unbothered. “Right on schedule.”

She giggles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, laughing against his skin as his mouth curves into a smile. His hand moves down her back, rubbing a little more insistently, as if he’s grounding himself—or maybe just unable to resist the urge to keep her right there.

And she doesn’t make it easy for him. She drags her legs back, swings one over his lap, and settles herself down, straddling him. For a moment, she just studies him, tracing her fingers through his hair, brushing little gray strands back, pressing featherlight kisses along his cheekbones. She moves to his jaw, his forehead, then teases at the edge of that absurdly high collar he insists on wearing like he’s hiding some grand secret rather than just a very biteable throat.

He is fine, she muses, is he not? So impossibly precise, so painfully detailed. He’s all sharp angles and sleek lines, with those maddeningly long fingers that look like they could carve through a mountain if they set their mind to it, and legs that seem to go on for days. Tall, lean, graceful, and—she smirks—a touch too verbose for his own good.

There’s a tragic elegance to him, too, a sort of quiet, melancholic dignity wrapped up in age and maturity, like a bottle of rare, finely aged wine that’s only gotten more complex with the years. A shame, really, that he’s about to be thoroughly enjoyed by someone who wouldn’t know a fine vintage from a spoiled ale.

She’ll savor him all the same, every last bit.

When she takes his hands, winding her fingers through his, she feels him smile—a real, soft thing, so she leans down and steals it right off his mouth. She licks along the seam of his lips, teasing, before he finally gives in and parts them, letting her kiss him in earnest.

“I like your rings,” she murmurs as she pulls back, letting their mouths part with a wet pop, a little string of saliva snapping between them. “They make you look expensive.”

“Not too expensive, I hope,” Emmrich teases. “Otherwise, I fear I’ll meet the same fate as every artifact your merry Lords of Fortune collect. Pilfered in the night, sold to the highest bidder. One moment here, the next—poof. Gone.”

She makes a show of sighing, voice deadly serious. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d rig the auction, slip in a pretty penny or two, then plant an inside man to bid on you. Coin in one hand, you smuggled back to me in the other. All in one night.”

He laughs, that rich, throaty sound she loves, and she can feel it rumbling up through his chest. “All that trouble just for me?”

She leans in, lips brushing his ear. “Consider it my own little courtship ritual,” she whispers, nipping at his earlobe. “Better than dinner and a walk, don’t you think?”

He chuckles, his hands slipping to her hips, holding her close as if he’s half-tempted to test just how well she could pull off that heist. “Dangerously persuasive, as usual.”

For a while, she stays just as she is, savoring the closeness, every slow inhale filled with the scent of him, the warmth of his body against hers. She steals little kisses, grazing his jaw, breathing her laughter against his skin each time he starts to smile. She loves the quiet, the intimacy of it all, though she loves his voice just as much. Sometimes, she asks him to read aloud, not for the content, but for that smooth, careful cadence that rolls through her and makes her feel so, so good. She’ll rest her head in his lap, fingers idly tracing patterns on his hands, kissing his knuckles, his fingertips, watching his face as he reads.

Now, there’s nothing for him to read, but she leans into him all the same, letting his quiet words fill the space. He murmurs, babbles, whispers soft nonsense as he unlaces her hair, fingers brushing through the waves, watching as they fall in gentle cascades over his lap. She exhales, content, her eyes half-closed, perfectly happy just to listen as his voice drifts around her, soothing and familiar.

She simply listens, resting her head on his thigh, gazing up at the ceiling, fingers trailing over his hands, kissing his fingers one by one, lingering on each touch. Her teeth gently scrape along his skin, letting her tongue follow in a slow, winding path. She feels his breath hitch, hears him stumble over his words as she nibbles down each finger, tracing her tongue along the edge before she takes it into her mouth, sucking just enough to leave him squirming. She lets each finger slip from her lips with a wet pop, savoring the way his composure falters, how he tries—and fails—to keep his voice steady as she drags her mouth over the center of his palm, kissing, licking, leaving nothing untouched.

He’s given up on this one-sided dialogue entirely, his gaze drifting from her to the room around them—the door, the table, the empty corners where nothing but dust bunnies, or perhaps a few stray Fade bunnies, lurk in silence.

“Dear,” he murmurs, glancing down at her. “We ought to move.” He gives her a gentle nudge, even tries to rise himself, but she’s not having it.

“Oh, but you look so good here,” she protests, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “They’re all asleep, Emmrich. Even Lucanis, that kitchen rat, is probably curled up in his pantry right now, snuggling his precious wheel of parmesan.”

Emmrich lets out a long, put-upon sigh, like he’s reaching deep into his reserve of patience, maybe for some scolding remark, but he finds none. His shoulders drop as he finally relents, letting her kisses chip away at his restraint. She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, detailing exactly what she wants him to do with those hands of his—where she wants those fingers, how she wants them stroking, filling, plunging, curling…

“Well then,” he manages, and she laughs, a short, wicked little sound, straight into his mouth.

She slips down his body, her hands already at his waist, working his trousers loose with a grin that says she knows exactly how flushed he’s become. She murmurs something obscene, barely a whisper and almost incoherent, her smirk widening as she leans in closer, taunting, “Come on, Emmrich, don’t tell me no bone was ever… poked… in that crypt of yours, right out in the open for all to see.”

“It’s the Grand Necropolis,” he corrects, like that’ll somehow keep his dignity intact, “and we most certainly do not… poke.”

She undoes the last of the many - too many - buttons on his trousers before freeing him just enough to take him in hand. And oh, would you look at that, for all of his posturing he's already hard. All that wriggling on top of him certainly led to something, she thinks.

“Oh?” she hums, tracing her fingertips over his bare skin, savoring the way he stiffens under her touch. She leans forward, her lips brushing against his length as she murmurs, “Not even a quick tumble between the tombs? Not a single bone used for inspiration?”

His restraint crumbles as she flicks her tongue over him, taking her time, drawing out each little shiver, each catch in his breath, making sure he’s utterly undone before she finally lets her mouth close around him, her gaze locked on his as she starts to take him deeper, her mouth warm, wet, greedy. And as she feels him sink back, his hands clenching in her hair, she knows she’s finally broken that perfect composure, and she couldn’t be more pleased.

Then she pulls back just enough to speak. “So, tell me, is this what you meant by reanimation techniques?”

Emmrich sighs, dragging his free hand over his face as if he could somehow block out the utter cringe tumbling out of her mouth, his fingers twitching, though she doesn’t give him a moment’s peace. She lowers her head again, sucking him in, hollowing her cheeks, before releasing him yet again, his cock slipping past her lips with an obscene, wet pop. “You know," she muses, "I’d say you’re looking rather stiff.”

A sharp exhale escapes him, a half-laugh, half-moan that only encourages her further. She picks up her pace, taking him deeper, her hands braced against his hips as she moves with a steady rhythm, doing that little thing with her tongue she knows he likes, she knows that everyone likes, a talent truly, swirling all the way around, pressing it flat on the underside of his cock, only to suck her way up, breathe hot air against him, before swallowing him again.

Between every few breaths, she pulls back just enough to taunt him, her voice syrupy with mock innocence. She can barely hold back the laughter as she watches him react, his hips bucking ever so slightly with each tease, like clockwork, so deliciously predictable. “Come on, love. I thought resurrection was your specialty?”

“Blasphemy,” he mutters above her, though there’s no real heat in his voice.

“No, no.” She rests her cheek against his thigh, stroking him instead with a slow, deliberate touch, her palm warm and slick, her grip firm. “Think of it as… a rather intensive course in raising the dead.”

The absurdity of it hits her right as she says it—her last attempt at an erotic pun officially surpassed—and she breaks, a snort escaping as she buries her face against his leg, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

But then she feels his hands shift, pulling her up by her arms, and she yelps, startled, before giggling as he hauls her up, settling her right back on top of him.

“That’s quite enough of that,” Emmrich whispers.

As he catches his breath, she wipes her mouth, grinning at him with all the smug satisfaction of someone who’s just completely dismantled a man who prides himself on his restraint. She feels his fingers on her chin as he angles her face back towards his so he can kiss her and she's not shy, she tangles her tongue with his immediately, tasting as much of him as she can reach, even tracing the edge of one canine before retreating for breath.

“Think you could, I don’t know…” She waves a hand around aimlessly. “Necromance my pants away?”

He smiles, curling her hair around his fingers where it frames her face. “No, dear. I’m afraid that is not in my skill set.”

#my rook is a chaos goblin in case you haven't noticed #emmrich is emmrich idk what to say #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #wip whenever #the fact that we don't get to make inappropriate necromancy jokes is a tragedy #emmrook

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kodzukyan · 3 years ago

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better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

#baji keisuke x reader #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokrev x reader #baji fluff #baji angst #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #i... i just really miss baji :(#come home you stinky head </3 #i'm sorry if he's ooc :(( in my head he's just really dorky and soft w his s/o HAHA #rissa told me to make it angst so i made it angst 👍#sometimes i write things

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courseoflove · 3 years ago

Text

Questions

You have lots of questions for Harry and he tries his best to answer each of them.

a/n: hiiiii, think it’s been almost a year since I last posted my writing and I’m finally back! thanks to @oh-honey-styles‘s new fic slam prompts, I was able to curate something I liked enough to share. usually it’d take me lotssss of drafts to be satisfied and happy with something but this one only took 2! I hope you enjoy it and pleaaaaseee be kind ⭐️😸 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

warning: this is just pureee filth. not really smut, but filthy regardless.

Word Count: 1,775

Harry’s forest eyes ogle straight at you, lips pressed in a tight line and twitching on one side to form a smirk that he tried his very best not to show.

That was definitely the last thing he expected to come out of your mouth. He thought you just needed help with something minuscule, like putting together new furniture, fixing the wifi, or help pick out an outfit; things you’ve urgently called him about before. He never, ever thought you’d call him one day and ask for this, a lesson on blowjobs out of all things.

Luckily, sex has never been a taboo topic between the two of you, considering he’s the first person you yell to when you’re letting out your frustrations about your lack of experiences, or vice versa when he just had an intercourse dilemma that continues to leave an everlasting impact on him. But when you’re asking him about giving good oral pleasure, his brain is suddenly void of any thoughts that should help the situation at hand.

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!” Harry flinches when you throw a pillow at him from across the other side of the sofa, instantly wiping the smirk off of his face and instead letting out a soft chuckle when he successfully catches it. You throw him an intense yet jest glare, “just. Today at work. I dunno. I just need to know. I want to know.”

“How d’you suppose I do that?” he asks cautiously, leaning forward to settle his elbows on his knees and prop his chin up with the palm of his hand, “teach you, I mean.”

You’re usually never embarrassed around Harry, despite the many weird and unusual conversations you’ve both had during sobriety and drunkenness. You don’t remember ever feeling even the slightest bit awkward or sheepish when you told him about how IUDs work, or giving him a very vivid description of how exactly you feel during your menstruation cycle. He takes it all in and listens with amusement, sometimes with a bowl of extra-buttered popcorn on his lap.

But right now, in this exact moment, you feel slightly skittish and jittery, as if blowjobs were something you’re just now learning about. He can sense it, especially with the way you’re averting your gaze from his eyes to the silent flatscreen tv nailed on your wall — thanks to him. You’re also doing that thing he constantly scolds you for whenever you’re anxious and nervous, chewing ferociously on your bottom lip and squeezing your fingers into a fist to the point your nails will sink on your palm and pop your veins.

“Stop that, you’ll bleed,” he cuts the silence off, “and answer my question.”

You unclench your fist and turn towards him again, barely making eye contact and instead looking at the lovely framed painting hung on the wall behind him, “maybe just describe it?”

“It’s really not that complicated,” was all Harry said. He leans back against your soft couch, taking both of your feet with his hands and settling them on his lap to crack each of your toes. You flinch a little on his first try, turning your focus and watching his fingers work against your skin, “think of a lollipop. Or popsicles, something of the sorts. You put it in your mouth and just… suck. Lick. Move your mouth, without the teeth.”

Suck. Lick. Move your mouth; the words that tumbles out of his lips causes you to flush, your whole body heating up and turning beet red, the color dancing across your nose and emphasizing your imperfections flawlessly.

What Harry said was pretty accurate. It’s not as detailed as you want but you don’t really know how to ask for that without feeling mortified and even more flustered. He said it exactly how it is; you just put your mouth around it, suction your cheeks, use your tongue and bob your head. But you feel like there was something missing, as if there should be more to that. Well, because there is. You want to know more.

His fingers have started to dance their way to your calf, squeezing the deep tissues there in a tender and leisure massage to try and get rid of your tensed muscles. You’re wincing in between syllables when you finally speak after a couple of seconds, “question. It might be weird. Just… just tell me if you don’t wanna answer.”

His eyes lock with yours when he hums for you to continue, a strand of curl falling over his forehead and tickling his brow while his bottom lip gets caught in between his teeth in concentration. He presses his warm hands on your leg forcefully and harder and it helps calm your nerves and neurons, your habit of overthinking in situations like this disappearing little by little the more he moves. The lack of poise you had minutes ago is lessening and your question is on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst at the seams and be voiced aloud.

With your face turning a lot redder and goosebumps developing on your skin from head to toe out of the blue, you ask with your voice a little lower than it was a while ago, “will you tell me what you like? When.. you know.”

Harry’s movements quickly halt. Another unexpected turn. Another question he never, ever thought would come out of your mouth to ask him.

He lets go of his lip and keeps his mouth agape, irises instantaneously dilating and darkening under your lemon-yellow light and turning them into an even darker shade, like a week old leaf. His brain performs a short circuit for a few moments that passes by in silence before he finally swallows and says, “you want to know what I like when I’m getting head?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, feeling even more ridiculous the more you look into his eyes and open your mouth, “I mean, you have the most experience out of the two of us. That’s why I asked in the first place, but I feel — I feel like your first answer doesn’t really — it’s just not satisfying me. There has to be more to it than just.. sucking, I dunno.”

Sure, you talk to one another about sex casually; what one undergos and encounters and what the other simply has no preconceived notions of. Harry would tell his stories in the least disgusting way possible, knowing you’ll groan out loud and tease him about it if he gives away any sort of detail, but there was almost always zero utterance on your end. No lingering and continuous curiosity. You asking about what he likes when he’s getting head is very much unforeseen and maybe even a bit… amiss, especially for you.

However, he can detect a genuine inquisitiveness in your expression. You’re probably one of the hardest people to read on the surface, but he senses that there was more to that interest than just simply wanting to know. At least, he’s hoping there is.

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling a bit weird now the more he gawks at you and doesn’t make a single move to respond. You open your mouth to backtrack when his hesitancy becomes clear, but before you can even take your question back, he’s already mouthing a three-syllable word out loud, “mouth-fucking.”

A low gasp leaves your mouth and the sound doesn’t miss Harry’s eardrums. He should want to take it back, shove the words back in his throat and never say it again despite not being able to. Still and all, he realizes that he likes what you asked and the fact he gave you an answer, a brief one but an honest and precise answer nonetheless. The way your skin warms against the palm of his hands makes him start to sweat, your bare face becoming even more flushed if possible. You don’t really know what kind of answer your mind presumed, but it obviously wasn’t that.

You’re aware of Harry’s self-confidence and boldness when it comes to sex. He has lots of it and it doesn’t come as a surprise. So when he opens his mouth again to explain exactly what he meant, you were able to hold your second gasp back and instead listen in. You can just imagine how filthy he is in bed, considering the description he gives you seems to be even more graphic and explicit, “like normal sex, but I’m doing it to their mouth. I like the sound, the sloppiness of it all, it fuels me. I like being in control, I guess, and no one wants a dry blowjob. I like it really wet.”

You startle both yourself and him when you utter, “what else?”

Harry clears his throat and looks away from your eyes, not because of discomfort because there was absolutely none, but for the reason that the more he stares the more he pictures you inside his head doing exactly what he was evoking. He blinks a couple of times in an attempt to get rid of the colorful conception, yet it just becomes even more lucid and clear-cut. He tries to distract himself by continuing to answer your questions. It definitely doesn’t help. It just drags the mental image on.

“I like it when they let me come down their throat, then swallow it. Or when — when the aftermath of pure bliss just overtakes my entire body. Like, they just pull away for a second then suck me right back in,” the skin on your legs feel sticky under his hold. You swallow at his dazed appearance and tiny smirk, as if he’s picturing it all in his head. And he is, “yeah. I like that a lot.”

Somehow it’s gotten a lot warmer inside the tiny space of your living room, every corner closing in on the two of you in your peripheral vision and you can’t exactly make out the tingling sensation on the tip of your fingers and in between your thighs. Well, you do. You know you’re undoubtedly turned on but acting clueless and ignoring it would be the best way to handle it.

You ask him one more question, the last one you’ll emit for the rest of the evening, “and how was it for them?”

Harry turns his head, connecting his darkened eyes with yours. There’s an indecipherable message written all over his handsome face. His voice is heavy, raspier and deeper with his accent when he answers for the last time, a specific implication behind his tone, “one of these days, you’ll see.”

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dracowars · 4 years ago

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Hii if your requests are open can u do one where the reader and draco are married and he wants to have kids but she keeps avoiding it and saying they should wait a bit longer. And then they end up talking and the reader confesses she scared of going through pregnancy because it just sounds so painful and that when she was younger she was a little chubby and it took her forever to lose that weight so she’s also scared of gaining weight and being undesirable after? Just some cute fluff and maybe dad!draco

founding of a family | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,7k

summary: where draco wants to have children, but y/n doesn’t

a/n: uni starts again next week so i try to work on as many requests as i can before that! <3

warnings: angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of insecurities regarding weight

universe: harry potter

Draco’s return is announced by the opening and the following closing of the front door and not a second later, he walks over to you into the kitchen, where you are currently busy preparing your dinner. When you hear his footsteps behind you, you turn to him with a smile on your face, even though you briefly get startled at the sight of him. It must have been a very tough day considering the exhausted expression on his handsome face.

“Good evening, darling”, you greet him warmly and put your arms gently on his shoulders, looking deep into his gray eyes that are surrounded by emerging dark circles. Despite everything, he smiles back, exhausted but genuine.

“Hi”, he softly whispers to you and gives you a kiss to greet you while his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the tips of your noses almost touching after the kiss.

“Exhausting day?”, you carefully ask, already searching for an answer in his eyes.

“Yeah, you could say that”, Draco sighs but quickly puts a smile back on again in order to not unsettle you in any way. “Do not look at me like I am about to pass out. Don’t worry, I really am fine. At least now that I am reunited with you. I will be better in no time.”

“Then I will do my best to fulfill my job as a wife today”, you playfully tease him and give him a quick kiss before you go back to making dinner for the both of you, giving him the time he probably needs for himself after a tough day, letting him arrive at home entirely.

He has been coming back stressed and tense from his work as a healer for several weeks now. Apparently, it is the month when most magicians decide to get involved in accidents or need medical treatment. In any case, you do your best to at least relieve him of the burden in the short time you have together.

While you are serving the dinner for tonight – Draco’s favorite meal – he quickly sets up the table and lights the candle in the middle of it next to the bouquet he brought you last week. Even when he is not feeling well, he still manages to bring a smile to your face every day.

You sit down together and enjoy your time, in which you try to not remind him of his work. At least at home he should be allowed to relax and calm down after a stressful day.

“Now that you mention it.. Unfortunately, Harvey is absent next week and I have to double my shifts in the hospital”, Draco explains after listening to you intently about your plans for the upcoming week. The name makes you widen your eyes slightly since Harvey is one of the leading healers at the St Mungo’s Hospital, who has also become a good colleague and friend of Draco.

“Oh, why is that? Is he alright?”

“Yes, his wife is pregnant and they will probably welcome their newborn next week”, Draco says, finishing his plate while noticing out of the corner of his eye how your fork immediately sinks down.

There it is again: the topic. The topic that you absolutely want to avoid, but it feels like you get confronted with it every single week. And each time it ends up with two people getting hurt.

“Oh.. how-how nice”, you put on a fake smile and poke around your food, breaking eye contact with your husband.

“Right? Next week their life will change forever. I bet they can’t wait to welcome their child. Just imagine how their son or daughter will frolic around them, learning something new every day”, Draco enthuses and you can’t tell whether he even notices how much this topic bothers you. Did he not learn anything from your last arguments about pregnancy?

“Draco, please.”

“What?”

“Please stop talking about this again”, you almost beg him, and your heartbeat accelerates in fear that this conversation will soon escalate again.

“What is wrong about it? Every time I want to talk to you about it normally, you immediately become so dismissive, Y/N”, Draco confronts you and you can feel his piercing gaze on you, your hands clenching into fists under the table.

“That’s exactly it! We have talked about it a lot, it is enough”, you counter him, your words coming out harder than you expected.

“We have been married for two years now. Do you not want to see little versions of us walking around here? Or do you just.. do not want to have children with me?”, Draco asks and your head shoots up in an instant, your eyes meeting.

“What? No! It is not that, Draco.”

“Then what is it? I do not feel like arguing about it every single time. I do not want my parents to ask me whether you are already pregnant every time we visit them!”, Draco’s voice gets louder all of a sudden and you can no longer hold back the tears that are forming in your eyes.

“Because I am not ready!”, you yell at him and angrily get up from the table, tears now streaming down your cheeks as you run out of the dining room and into your shared bedroom, loudly slamming the door close behind you. Laying down in bed and snuggling under the thick covers, you let your tears and sobs run free. You press your trembling hands against your chest, feeling your pounding heart against it from the other side. Your blurry gaze falls on your bedside table where your moving wedding photo is placed. Grinning broadly, your former self smiles at the camera and you remember that this must have been the best and happiest day of your life so far.

With a loud sniff, you reach for it and lay it down to save yourself the sight of it. Then, you turn on your back and blankly stare at the ceiling. Until you hear a gentle knock on the door and quickly turn your back towards it.

“Leave me alone.”

“Please, babe. I am sorry.”

The quiet squeaking of the doors tells you that he has come into your bedroom nevertheless, and shortly afterwards you can feel the mattress next to you sink as he sits on it. Not giving him an answer, you hide your face in your hands.

Draco’s heart, on the other hand, breaks at the sight of you. He did not know that this topic really did bother you this much. To say he feels bad is an understatement.

Not quite knowing what he should do, he strokes your back very slowly and carefully, trying to calm you down somehow. While doing so, he does not miss that you turned your wedding photo around.

Although you do not want to admit it and he is actually the person you want to see the least right now, he manages to calm you down and your loud sobs slowly disappear. After he has handed you a handkerchief, you sit up and lean your back against the headboard while his guilty gaze follows your every move.

“I did not mean to hurt you”, Draco begins and even though you avoid his gaze on purpose, you can tell from his voice that he is serious.

“I know. I did not mean to freak out, but this topic.. I am just so incredibly scared, Draco”, you admit, nervously fidgeting with your fingers on your lap, not sure how he will react.

“What? You do not need to be afraid, baby. I am with you”, he assures you and takes your hand in his, briefly letting your wedding rings meet.

“You do not know how a pregnancy works. How much pain and problems it involves. The thought of being pregnant scares me. I can’t take responsibility for such a small human being, I am not in the right position to do so. I know how much you want children, but I just can’t”, you sob, suppressing your re-emerging tears.

“What are you even talking about? Are you listening to what you are saying? Of course you can! You are such a strong woman”, Draco reassures you, but his mere words can’t calm your thoughts either.

“Even if that is the case. Even if I get pregnant, Draco, it will not get any better after that. Then I have to put this tiny little being first and even if I can cope with this, then my body would still be deformed. Pregnancy can do so much damage to the body and.. what if you do not want me anymore? What if am undesirable for you afterwards?”, you explain to him honestly and he listens to you very carefully, now understanding your inner conflict much better than before. He knew about your insecurities.

“You are afraid that I would not love you anymore?”, he repeats your words, not understanding them correctly. “If you would get pregnant, I would love you even more afterwards. I could not think of anything more beautiful than you, no matter what. The way you would hold our child in your arms. It would be the most wonderful moment and you would look gorgeous and so stunning.”

When you suddenly throw yourself around his neck in relief, Draco can barely keep his balance and falls back onto the mattress with you on top of him. He hugs you tight, so tight that he is afraid of crushing you.

“I love you”, you whisper in his ear and by your soft voice he notices that you feel much better than before. Now that you have finally told him. Taking your face in his hands, he looks you straight in the eyes.

“No matter what happens, I will always love you, do you understand?”, Draco makes clear and you nod with a small smile on your lips before gently connecting your lips in a kiss.

“Maybe I am ready for it after all”, you say against his lips and the sudden speechless expression on Draco’s face that follows your words makes you giggle and blush. He crashes his lips against yours right away and turns you around, you now lying under his body. Feeling his smile against your lips, the heavy burden suddenly vanishes from your shoulders and the thought of pregnancy no longer scares you. It suddenly sounds more like something you really want to experience.

With Draco by your side.

Together.

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glowingbadger · 3 years ago

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I loved the Ashe, Sylvain, and Hilda modern-day HCs. So….can I ask for….Marianne, Dima, and Claude now? They’re so so good.

Here's a quick list of the places I've touched on ModernAU stuff with these characters before, for anyone who's interested! General Modern HCs (Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Claude, Dimitri) W/ insecure Reader (Marianne) Soft HCs (Dimitri)

I'll try not to repeat myself too much, but the SFW portion might be a little sparse because I've written a good deal of my thoughts on that already :3

Marianne, Dimitri, Claude x GN Reader

Modern/College AU headcanons

SFW (not sfw under the cut)

Marianne:

- Definitely a veterinary student who has an incredible, intuitive way with animals. One of those "gets along with animals better than people" types. As a result, many others in her classes see her as aloof or difficult to talk to. Fortunately, when Hilda drags her to a party one night, you notice her keeping to herself and come to make casual conversation. It takes a bit for her to open up, but she's soon grateful for pleasant, relaxing company in the midst of the loud chaos.

- She needs a good amount of reassurance in a relationship, as she's so convinced you could do better. Marianne is totally the type to apologize for not being good enough for you, then apologize for bringing it up, then apologize for apologizing. But her love and admiration for you are so very clear. She'll shyly take your hand in hers, and just the way she looks at you, it's like you're every star and every sunset she's ever seen.

- Marianne spends some of her free time volunteering at a local animal shelter, and one of your earlier dates would involve her introducing you to some of the animals in her care. Here, it's like you see a completely different side of her- she's so much more confident and firm when she speaks to the animals, and she smiles so brightly and laughs adorably as she watches you attempt to make a good impression on them.

Dimitri:

- We've chatted about Modern! Dimitri a good deal so far- but I will double down here on the fact that, while he's outwardly extremely intimidating to your friends when you first start dating, you know (and they learn) that he's absolute Malewife material.

- He loves sitting on video calls with you and just staring at your adorable, lovely face. He's an excellent listener, and will gladly hear about your entire day from start to finish, even if you insist it was nothing special. He's just so soothed by your voice, and the chance to see you. While he's honestly not very good at social media in general, he does have a couple hundred pictures of you saved. Not to post anywhere, just to look back at with a goofy grin on his face.

Claude:

- Claude is the guy on campus that everyone likes, plenty of people want, but no one can really nail down. He seems to know everyone, but he's only actually close to a few good friends, and for the longest time, even they assume that he's the "doesn't believe in serious dating" type. It starts much the same with you- he figures you're interesting and cute as hell, so he may as well spend some time having fun and getting to know you. And then... the feels TM creep in.

- You'll be caught up in a sort of... friendly flirtation with him for a while. The kind where it would be easy to play off all of the corny innuendos and knowing glances as "just kidding around." Then, one night, after a long group study session or just lazing around with drinks and games with his friends, he offers to walk you back to your dorm. When you get caught in a sudden downpour and have to duck under the nearest building's awning for shelter, he gives you a strange lingering look that's so much heavier than any you've seen. And without a word, he leans down to kiss you. When you part, he's wearing a slanted smile, but he's fidgeting a bit when he says, "Hey, uh, Y/N. I wanna be with you- for real. So uh... how 'bout it?"

- Claude is just the most fun boyfriend ever. He's got an active and curious mind, so he's always game to try anything you're interested in, and you'll never be at a loss for date ideas. He's the kind who gets okay grades, though nothing incredible, but his brilliance shines in how he latches on to new information, turning a topic around in his mind until he's seen it from every angle. It's especially charming when he asks to hear about your interests or areas of expertise- he asks all the right questions and the conversation becomes lively just about instantly.

NSFW 18 + v

Marianne:

- You're definitely her first sexual partner (she hasn't even dated seriously until you), and she's going to take a long time to get comfortable freely exploring the physical side of a relationship. She's a big cuddler, once you've assured her that you like it too- she finds it immensely soothing to rest her head on your shoulder or on your chest, just listening to your breathing and feeling you warm against her. But as for sexual affection, she'll start slow, testing things by letting her gentle hands tentatively wander just a little further than before, or deepening your kiss a little more than usual.

- Best practice with Marianne is to let her be the one to suggest or initiate things, but to respond enthusiastically when she does so she knows you're happy with it and you want her as much as she wants you. Your approval and encouragement fills her with warmth she's never felt before, and a sense of bold desire she hadn't even known she was capable of. There's plenty of communication with her- there has to be -but in a way, that becomes its own sort of eroticism. Soft murmurs of, "is this okay?", "does that feel good?", or "can you take more?" mix in with affirmative sighs and moans, turning the negotiation of comfort into a wonderful, slowly escalating path towards satisfaction.

- She's absolutely mortified by the idea of sexting or sending nudes, but if she sends you an outfit she's considering and reply with a coy "You look amazing- can't wait to take that off of you" (honestly the cheesier the better with the pickup lines- being too smooth would intimidate her)- she'll only respond with a single blushing emoji, but you bet she'll be wearing that outfit to your next date.

Dimitri:

- Everyone on campus, including your friends/roomates see Dimitri as such a pure cinnamon roll that you might be surprised to learn he has a rather healthy sex drive underneath all of that sweetness and affection. Granted, he's definitely most likely to desire you when he feels emotionally close to you- but that won't stop him from fucking you nice and deep until your bed creaks. The first time someone overhears you practically screaming out his name, rumors start spreading that your ever-devoted Malewife is actually legendary in bed. It's mostly a raunchy joke, but as far as you're concerned, they're not exactly wrong.

- He's too nervous to actually save any of the spicy pics you've sent him to his phone, but that doesn't stop him from regularly scrolling back through your message threads to find them. Masturbating to porn is fine and good, but when he can look at you biting your lip as you show off your body to him, he pumps his cock and bucks his hips against his hand until he cums far harder than he's used to. Dimitri especially gets a thrill out of the implied part of this- the fact that you wanted to flaunt yourself to him like this and made sure that he would linger on the sight of you.

- A very fun game is to comment or imply something about how good Dimitri fucks you while you're hanging out with his friends. He stammers and turns bright red when you mention how, "Oh don't you worry, Dimitri keeps me nice and satisfied, don't you babe?" with your eyebrows quirked playfully. His buddies nudge him and laugh, and as timid as he appears about it, he'll need you as soon as you're alone together, and he'll hold you extra close and pound into you a little harder than usual.

Claude:

- Alright. Claude is hot, and Claude knows he's hot, and he has no problem using this to his advantage. He'll absolutely send you gym selfies, or raunchy messages when he knows you're with friends or family. During minor disagreements or when you're pretending to be mad at him, he'll slip an arm around your waist and nibble at your ear, whispering, "C'mon babe, don't be like that..." before pulling you close and kissing you until you can't think straight.

- He absolutely doesn't care if people overhear you- in fact, he'll tease you about it, murmuring in your ear that you can't keep moaning for him like that or you'll be heard. But the fact that he's fucking into you harder and deeper as he says it tells you clearly that he wants you to cry out for him. In general, he's pretty shameless about your shared sex life if you allow him to be. He'll practically strut out of your room to clean up in just his boxers, not caring a bit if your roommates get an eyeful. He's handsy in public as well (again, depending on your comfort with it), and will absolutely grab a handful of your ass while you're on a date together, or trail his hand up your thigh during a movie.

- Claude is adventurous and open minded about sex in general, as I've mentioned a couple times. Hell, he'll even send you a porn clip or a bit of smut, along with a brief "we should try this ;)"- and he obviously loves when you do the same for him. He sees no reason to be shy with his partner about your mutual pleasure. Communicating your preferences will make sure you both enjoy yourselves, and the process of even talking about it can be pretty hot on its own.

#marianne von edmund #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #marianne x reader #dimitri x reader #claude x reader #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #feh #fire emblem headcanons #modern au #fluff and smut #fire emblem x reader #x reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years ago

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Vicious

Part VII

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1864.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

________

You wanted to slap yourself. What the hell was wrong with you today? Why did you tell Peter that?!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Completely baffled with you behavior, you were deeply ashamed, unable to look the guy in the eyes and wanting nothing but fall into the earth.

“Ah, I got it. It’s Steve, isn’t it?” All of a sudden, Peter let out an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes skywards and rubbing his neck. “Of course, who else would say such nonsense. Blackmail, really? Funny he didn’t call me a stalker or anything.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean it, I’m really-”

“It’s ok.” He closed the locker, slamming its door loudly and making you jump. “It’s not your fault. If I heard that from somebody, I’d be scared too.”

He spent a couple of seconds staring into the wall until he rubbed his neck again tiredly and huffed. It took him less than a minute to regain his composure, and you heard him murmuring, “What a freak.”

He didn't return to the corridor, heading to the sports hall for his PE class, instead moving to the bench in the locker room and motioning you to sit. Feeling terribly awkward, you hoped he wasn't going to do anything out of anger, even though he had every right to be upset at your stupid behavior.

"About what he said," Peter took a deep breath, "it's nothing like that. I don't dig up some nasty stuff in the web to blackmail people. I've never done it. The reason why Mr. I-am-better-than-you said that is because I've made him take me into his little bodyguard group when I heard him talking to Loki. You're nice, and I wanted to help. Of course, Steve started acting like I was some creep, so he refused, and I had to remind him that, technically, he had to report your issue to the administration, not play a hero. I said that if I go and tell the whole story to the dean, Steve's gonna be in trouble because he knew who thieves were and didn't report them."

It was a loud off your mind. Goodness. Rogers called this a blackmail? Really? Just because Peter pushed Steve into taking him into their group?

You were less and less sure Rogers was sane. You definitely had to be careful around him.

"I can't believe he called it a blackmail." You admitted quietly, and the guy sent you a tired smile. "Peter, I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid of me."

"Nah, don't worry. I'd freak out too if I didn't know the whole story."

You knew your apologies weren't enough, but you hoped Peter didn't take it to heart - if you can take such an accusation easily, that is. Shit, shit, shit, why did you believe everything these guys were saying? You didn't even know them in the first place! Why on Earth did you go asking them their opinions on others if all of them were biased, and every guy could twist the truth the way he liked? You shouldn't have let their words affect you that much.

"Whatever. At least now you know what Rogers is like." Peter sent you a grim smile and got up, picking his bright yellow sackpack from the floor. "Shit, I gotta go if I don't wanna be late. Let's meet in a library later, alright?"

"O-of course." You hurriedly stood up and left the lockers room after him, turning to the library: your Lit class was cancelled, so you decided to go study right away. At this time, the library was usually full, and you felt safe there.

Your thoughts were all about the guys again even when you were staring at your laptop, trying to focus on Excel numbers. Why did you feel like the atmosphere between them was so dense? If they were at such terms with each other, why did they group together to help you? What, because all of them loved you so much? It was ridiculous. There was something else to it, and you didn't know. You had a feeling no one was going to tell you the truth until you figured it all out by yourself.

Weird. It was all so weird. Steve's plan, their behavior, the relationships between them, and your nagging feeling they all were hiding something. Was it them who were actually following you?

The thought scared you to the point you started shivering. Oh shit.

"Hi there," the guy appeared behind your back so suddenly you almost jumped, looking at him wide-eyed, "sorry, did I startle you?"

"H-hi Jake! No, it's ok, I was just... studying." Both of you were talking in hushed voices, knowing the librarian would kick you out immediately if she heard some noise. "How are you?"

"I'm great, how're you?" You could hear concern in his voice: he was one of Thor's friends you met yesterday, and although you spoke briefly, Thor definitely told him more about you. "You look a bit worried."

"Oh, it's Math, I didn't really understand the topic, and we're having an exam on Monday... guess I'll be studying the whole weekend." You gave him your best smile to reassure you were totally ok, and the guy relaxed a little, smiling at you, too.

"I'm sure you'll pass. Thor said you're very smart."

What, he said that to all of them? Was he simply boasting about his girlfriend to his friends or was there something more to it?

"You're too kind. Thank you."

His smile grew wider, and he landed on the next seat to yours, resting his hands on the table. Apparently, there was something he wanted to talk to you about, and you grew uneasy.

"Listen, about these incidents... Thor told us all about it, so if you see any freaks following you around, you can message any of us, and we'll come right away." Looking at his serious expression, his bushy brows furrowed, you hoped he eas being sincere with you: you had enough with people you could no longer trust. "And also... that kid, if he's giving you troubles or anything, just let me know, and I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself"

Oh, he was talking about Peter, wasn't he? He had probably seen that silly photo. Wow, you though, Peter was totally right about Instagram: it was the best news source in the academy.

Thanking him for his concern, you laughed a little, convincing him there was nothing serious except for the theft and promising to tell him if anything weird would be going on. While it should have made you feel safer, in fact, you only grew more frustrated with this situation. You wanted to forget about these freaks and just spend you day like any normal student would, but everywhere you went people were staring at you as if you had a horn; one boyfriend or the other was always close to protect you from some unknown danger, and although you believed they tried to help, you hated the feeling they were hiding something from you. Why did you have to be going through all this? Wasn't it really better to drop off school, spend a year working and then apply to a better place?

Thinking of the faces your parents would make once you returned home, you realized it wasn't. This school with all those creeps wasn't worse than home that never felt like a safe place you wanted to come back to. Besides, all money you saved up until now were only good for buying food and things like that: you'd never afford to rent a decent place unless you found a well-paid job. It meant staying with your parents, and it wouldn't be much better than here, just different. If you wanted to drop off, you had to find a good place to stay.

Well, you could at least try, right?

When Peter met you in the library, the two of you no longer talked about anything important, simply studying together to prepare for the exams next week. It didn't feel off: from time to time you met his gaze, and the both of you smiled. You were thankful he didn’t talk about Steve or other guys or that weirdo in the lockers room.

Once you returned home, you went straight to bed, completely exhausted. Luckily, you did much more than yesterday, so you could rest now, but then you thought of Thor kissing you and bit down the pillow, angry at yourself. Why did you keep thinking of him right now?

______________

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like something was off: your body ached, your throat hurt, and your headache was only making it worse. Dammit, you caught a cold, probably. And that’s when it was finally the day to meet Steve, the guy you thought was a mastermind behind all these manipulations that were making you sick to the core.

Anyway, it’s not like a mere cold would prevent you from doing everything you had planned. You left your bed and went to the bathroom, moving the dresser before again.

Honestly, it felt terrible. It was definitely because of that flimsy dress you wore to school yesterday when the weather was becoming chilly. Argh. Watching your puffy eyes and swollen nose, you sneezed. Today you had to apply way more makeup to look decently.

Steve showed up earlier than either Thor or Peter: you had to skip your breakfast, hoping to buy something cheap in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He said with his everyday polite expression that soon shifted into a concerned one. “Are you alright?”

What, was it that bad? You did your absolute best to apply enough makeup and do your hair. Did you still look so sick?

“Good morning. Yes, I’m ok, just feeling a little sleepy.” You yawned on purpose, covering your mouth with your hand, and Steve’s face softened.

“Did you study all night?”

“Yep, exams are driving me a little crazy.”

“I understand. I also stayed late last night.”

Of course, the student council president studying all days long to be number one student in the academy. If you didn’t know of his twisted nature, you’d think he was the most typical nerd.

You spent most of the time either in silence or talking about studies, the academy, and everything related to it. Steve acted like a gentleman and a scholar, albeit a little too demonstratively. Walking with you as if he were a king of the place, he constantly replied to greetings of others, waved to his acquaintances and smiled. You felt so off you wanted to find Loki and walk with him: unlike Steve, he was considered unpleasant by the prevailing majority of students.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” America golden boy asked you for the last time, and you forced yourself to smile.

“Of course. Thanks for coming, see you later, Steve.”

As he finally left you in peace, you almost fell down into your chair, your fever only getting worse despite the fact you took some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks

#bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #thor x reader #dark thor #loki x reader #dark loki #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #yandere

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lunarrumor · 3 years ago

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i just think that valgrace. so much potential. so much chemistry

we have:

- best friends to lovers

- height difference

- jason being very strung up and leo being the exact opposite so they balance each other out

- leo always stealing jason's clothes even before they're together because they're really comfy and jason's not the most fashionable but leo's never cared about his clothes much (except he does care about these ones because they're his "best friend's" and it reminds him that he has people now,,, people that love him)

- and he wears one of jason's shirts to his workshop one day and he accidentally gets grease on it (because lets be real he has never owned a single item of clothing that didn't somehow get a grease or oil stain on it)

- and he's really upset because it's like he ruined one of his most precious items and jason let him have it (he took it one day while they were up late playing video games and he wanted to get comfortable and jason refused when he tried to give it back for ~totally straight and only friendly~ reasons)

- and he thinks jason's gonna be mad because what if he did want it back and he's gonna change his mind and never let me have anything of his ever again but he goes to the dining hall trying to subtly hide it but of course jason notices it because he's got a great vantage point on leo and he's always staring at leo but especially today because he's wearing his shirt and he always looks really cute after coming back from his workshop because he has dirt on his face and his hair is all messed up and he always comes back looking proud of himself for finishing a project or all jittery because he wants to get back so he can keep working or frustated that something went wrong (but that isn't very often jason thinks because leo's kind of a genius with machinery and he always manages to make the most amazing things)

- anywayy so jason notices and he doesn't say anything but he can see him staring and his eyebrows do that cute little furrowy thing that always happens when he's thinking about something and leo's just waiting for him to mention it

- meanwhile jason is looking at leo's shirt his shirt with grease stains on it—leo's signature look and he's trying so hard to keep from smiling like an idiot because now it looks like theirs—like it's a part of them both and leo's looking absolutely amazing in it in the light of the dining hall, highlighted gold by the sun going down and the torches set around for light

- he looks at his crisp purple shirt, now slightly wrinkled, with oil stains and he thinks it reminds him of their own friendship—how he's always neat and precise but leo relaxes him, he's not afraid of getting messy and he's not afraid to pull jason along with him and he never does say anything but he gives leo a random hug after dinner before he goes back to the workshop, which isnt that unusual because ever since jason realized that leo and piper didn't mind casual affection—in fact piper was always one to just drape herself around her friends and hang off of them because as much as she didn't like being an aphrodite kid she's always been a sucker for little ways of showing people you love them—jason hasn't stopped hugging them since

- leo was surprised at first when he started doing it but now he welcomes them because jason's hugs are so warm and it makes him feel home and so when he does so after dinner leo's only really shocked because this one is extra suffocating and he was expecting actually the opposite reaction but then he supposes he shouldn't really be so surprised because jason has always been the most understanding person he's met and he never gets annoyed with leo like others do, he's always just there waiting to help him or to hug him or to give him one of his oh-look-at-me-im-so-attractive-people-probably-make-paintings-of-me-just-to-capture-my-beauty smiles that is always so bright and soft and leo doesn't know how jason can always look so content when he's got so much weight on his shoulders (this definitely doesnt have to do with the fact that just being around leo makes him happy and he forgets all his responsibilities except making sure leo is doing okay)

- and when they are together jason sure as hell takes advantage of his staring privileges because now he can look at leo in his clothes and smile like a goof and it's completely normal boyfriend behavior and he absolutely never shuts up about how much he loves leo and ~maybe~ leo recognizes this and starts wearing more of his clothes just so he can get extra tight hugs because he's always been one for manipulating the system and damnit if this system of how he could possibly get the most love from jason is not the best thing he's ever gotten himself into

- and now i've gone on a very long rant about valgrace (oopsie) but im going to continue (with some nico !!!) because @transjasico has me thinking about valdangelace

- so nico doesnt have the same habits as leo does when it comes to taking all of jason's clothes because he hates looking small and he has a reputation to uphold and a ~style~ to keep (aka an emo teen that shops at hot topic)

- and jason totally doesn't start buying more black clothes because maybe he perhaps notices this (after all who is he if not constantly obsessing over his boyfriends and analyzing all the cute habits they have)

- and piper sees this change of clothing and gets a little worried because she just got jason to branch out a little from purple t-shirts that he somehow makes look like he's ready for a business meeting? and oh no what if while she was training him and telling him to ~find his own style~ she accidentally encouraged him to go goth

- so she's like /what have i done/ because while she teases him about it, nerdy jason is her jason and what if he decides to get a bunch of piercings now because that simply wouldn't look right (i mean of course he could pull it off but goth!jason would look simply off to anyone who had met him for more than two seconds and seen what a mom friend he is)

- so she asks him about it because she can not be responsible for jason breaking all of the goth little hearts in america with his new look (yes he just started wearing more black but piper thinks ahead okay she's smart like that)

- and he admits it to her and she just cackles in his face (and then suddenly gets serious because she's like okay i know you love your boyfriend but seriously this is not the style for you)

- but who's laughing when his plan works??? one night at the campfire nico forgot his aviator jacket and he's about to shadow travel to get it but jason is like no no no you're not gonna wear yourself out just to get a jacket and you can't just leave (a brilliant excuse if you ask him, because jason's a quick thinker like that,,,, and being around leo he picked up some of his scheming habits)

- but he's like *puts hand on nico's arm and activates his Serious Yet Loving boyfriend face" and goes: noo nico why would you do that when i have a jacket *whips hoodie off his lap with a flourish* right here :)))

- and nico's like ....okay sure :)

- and jason has an accomplished little smile seeing nico bundled up in his hoodie because not only is he warm but phase one of his mission is complete and now he just has to ease nico into stealing more of his clothes and he thinks he was really subtle but nico definitely knew what he was doing and he brought it up to leo who thought it was very cute to see conspiring!jason and hilarious that he was so determined for somebody to steal his clothes so when jason pulled out his jacket he made a little motion to nico like *go on take it* and nico rolled his eyes (without jason seeing of course) and activated his amazing acting skills so he could see his boyfriend look all proud of himself

- and now i've gone on another very long rant (i still blame you @/transjasico) but nico starts wearing them more because jason always does everything he can to make them happy and he thinks its worth it to see jason all smiley and they're very comfy and he does enjoy the extra bear hugs and the smirk leo gives him every time he sees him wearing jason's shirt but that's not the point

- okay now im done

the point is.... LET JASON LOVE HIS TWO BEST FRIENDS BOYFRIENDS OKAY

#me: haha im just gonna make a post about valgrace that's *very short* and—#me looking at the actually very long post in which i dissolved into multiple rants about clothes thievery: oh. whoops :)#sidenote leo also steals one of nico's shirts one time and he goes up to his boyfriends with a ~smolder~ like 'i think this is really #working for me . righttttt :D'#and nico's like *deadpan* no.#you should take it off right now.#and NOW im done #just lots of valdangelace thoughts tonight #reading this back i think this is the longest post ive ever made .....#rrverse #jason grace #leo valdez #nico di angelo #valdangelace #valgrace #jasico #valdangelo #yes a lot of this post was me going off on long tangents about how amazing leo or jason is what are you gonna do abt it

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yourmcu · 4 years ago

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Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory, “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

2K notes · View notes

luffles424 · 4 years ago

Text

Theory into Practice

☼ Pairing: Yoonji x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), teeny bit of angst, f2l, college au (technically more so grad school au)

☼ Count: 10.2K

☼ Warnings: 18+, drug use (pot), mentions of alcohol use, threesome, dom!Yoonji, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, one thigh smack, thigh riding, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), face sitting, unprotected (pls stay safe), aftercare

☼ Summary: A normal night in with Yoonji leads to some interesting revelations with her and surprisingly, Jungkook.

☼ a/n: lmao it’s been a while. Hope you enjoy the Yoonji thirst, my girl doesn’t have enough fics out there. Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~

———

“Who of our friends do you think is the subbiest?”

You blink. It’s really a testament to how much you and Yoonji have smoked tonight that your immediate reaction isn’t to splutter at her question. Instead, you just blink slowly, the question slowly making its way through your synapses before you can articulate a response. You take another hit, using it to buy yourself a little more time. Holding the joint back out to her, you let the smoke slowly seep from your lips.

“Who says I’ve thought about it?”

You know exactly who you want to be subbiest. But you’re not going to reveal that. Maybe not yet. You might be high, but you still have enough of your wits to keep from spilling things you want to keep hidden. You’ve had good practice at that, smoking often with her and never divulging your crush, even when the topic of partners has come up. Which does come up fairly often as you both attempt to navigate dating while in grad school.

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch and Yoonji’s head lulls against the back of it so she can fix you with hazy, unimpressed eyes, though there’s a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. “I didn’t. But we’re talking about it now.”

Pursing your lips, you think of how to respond. In truth, you’ve thought about it a little, but not particularly in relation to your whole group of friends. Maybe just a person or two who you were particularly interested in that are in said friend group. Most notably, the women sitting on the other end of the couch from you currently.

Yoonji laughs, foot kicking out to nudge you, and you grin at the flood of happiness that always accompanies hearing her laugh. “Damn, it’s not that deep. Why are you thinking so hard?”

Catching her foot, you dig your thumb into the sole of her foot, causing you both to dissolve into giggles. “We have a lot of friends,” you shoot back. An excuse and you both know it.

You and Yoonji have been friends for too long for you to really be able to avoid answering a direct query. It’s only been luck that has kept your crush hidden from her. You’ve been friends since you met in 2nd year of undergrad, paired randomly as roommates and then continuing to remain roommates until even now when you live off campus in an apartment together. And many of your friends have come together and you both now share a common friend group.

Once Yoonji wrestles her foot free of your tickling grasp, she shifts in her seat, face far more serious than the topic at hand should really call for. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your excuse,” she gives you a look that’s hard to interpret, though you mostly just don’t want to think too hard about the calculating look she’s giving you. It leaves you feeling exposed, like she can read your thoughts and knows all of your deepest secrets. Which is partially true, you and Yoonji share everything, save your feelings for her. “Which way do you think Jimin goes?”

She’s really going to make you do this? Well, you might as well give some actual thought to this. “With his praise kink? Definitely more sub leaning?”

Yoonji raises an eyebrow. “Leaning?”

“Well yeah. He’s definitely a switch. You’ve seen how he is when he’s focused. But he also likes helping others. Plus,” you pause, mostly just to be dramatic as you smirk knowingly, Yoonji leaning closer as she waits for what you’re going to say next, “Siyeon said he’s as good a dom as he is a sub.”

Scoffing, Yoonji reaches over to give you a little shove. “That’s cheating!”

You giggle, catching her hand before she pushes again. “It’s not!”

“It is! That’s insider information! This is supposed to be our opinion.”

Waving her off, you settle back onto the couch. “I gave my opinion. I would’ve had that before Siyeon told me. All she did was confirm.” You pause thoughtfully for a moment. You don’t want this to be all you, so you pose the next friend to her instead. “What about Seokjin?”

Yoonji drums her fingers on her bare thigh and you have to fight the urge to get lost in staring at the vast expanse of smooth, exposed skin she’s subjecting you to tonight while you’re impaired like this. You want to know if they’re as soft as they look. You know her hands aren’t, not anymore since she started learning guitar, finger’s growing rough and calloused. The first time she had held your hand after had startled you, now you love feeling the slight roughness brush against your skin. Dragging your gaze from her fingers to her face, you watch as she starts to speak, trying to remain focused on her words and not the way her pretty pink lips form them.

“As much as I’d love to say sub because he would be just absolutely gorgeous all tied up and begging. I think he’s a bit more dom-ish.”

Mulling it over for a moment, you nod. He likes caring for all your friends, you can certainly see that transferring over into the bedroom. You add, “Yeah… But like, a soft one, ya know? He’d be so gentle and caring about it. I bet his aftercare game is amazing.”

Shifting, Yoonji stretches her legs out and echoes your thoughts. “Definitely. You’ve seen the way he cares for all of us, but definitely the younger guys. He’d be so amazing at that. What about Taehyung?”

“Hm, a dom. Maybe a little less gentle than Seokjin, but still a soft-ish dom. Namjoon?”

“Dom leaning switch. Sometimes he just really needs to get out of his head and let go of control. Hoseok?”

“Straight up switch. I think he probably doms more often but he’s all too happy to go with whatever his partner is in the mood for. Jungkook?”

Yoonji’s face lights up. “Oh,” she coos. “The sweetest sub ever.”

You stare at the way her eyes seem to glaze over with her words and something like jealousy swirls with heat in your belly. You can’t tell if the spike of jealousy is about the way she sighed her answer so sweetly, like she’s thought a lot about this. Or if it’s because you have the same thoughts and some part of you feels possessive over Jungkook. “Why’s that?”

She shoots you a coy smile that leaves you feeling slightly uneasy. “He’s just such a sweet boy and always so eager to please.”

You can’t deny that you’ve also thought that, dreamed that were true. You’ve heard rumors of how Jungkook is in bed. Domineering, cocky, rough. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining him beneath you, whimpering and begging. Yoonji nudges you and you blink at her, realizing that you must’ve zoned out for a moment. She purses her lips, barely hiding her knowing smile.

“One more,” she declares.

Frowning, you think through your shared friends, but can’t imagine who she might be referring to. “Who?”

Her answering smirk has your heart stuttering in your chest, equal parts dreading what’s about to come out of her mouth and anticipating. “Me.”

You swallow. She’s really going to make you answer that to her face? While you’re both high? You chew your lip, looking her over slowly. You know exactly how she leans, the benefit and downside to living together for so long. The words stick in your throat though, not quite able to bring yourself to voice your knowledge. To give yourself away like that, to show just how much you’ve paid attention. Yoonji says nothing though, looking at you expectantly as she waits for your answer.

Taking a deep breath, you rationalize that this is just a game. You’re just giving opinions. It doesn’t have to be incriminating to anything deeper. You just won’t give reasons, just an answer which way she leans. “Dom.”

She grins, looking pleased with your answer. “You too.”

“What?” you blink at her, confused by what she means.

“I think you’re a dom too.”

Your breath catches. You hadn’t thought about the fact that if you knew her preferences then she likely knew yours well. You’ve both talked about your sex lives with each other, but you’ve never delved deeply into what happens when you’re in your room with others. Staring at each other, your mind races. How much has she heard? How much does she truly know? Her gaze drops to your lips for a moment.

But before the conversation can go any further, there’s a knock at the door. The tension that built between the two of you suddenly breaks as Yoonji crows happily, jumping from her seat to go retrieve the food you’d ordered. Burying your face in your hands, you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your thoughts under control. You really can’t be sitting here, high and horny and thinking about Yoonji and Jungkook. Especially not while one of those people is sitting here with you.

By the time she’s back with food, you’ve got your tangled thoughts mostly controlled and the previous conversation isn’t brought up again. Yoonji complains about something Namjoon did while they were studying earlier in the day and then you’re both complaining about school and theses and classes and thoughts on doms and subs is forgotten about entirely. And you’re all too happy to just forget it happened at all.

At least for the most part. You can’t help it if in the late hours of night, when exhaustion reigns and sleep eludes you, if you let your thoughts slip to less pure things as you hand slips into your panties. If when you’re alone, you think of you and Yoonji knelt over Jungkook as his big, shiny eyes shine brighter with overwhelmed tears and begs his noonas to let him cum. You don’t let it leave those times though, left in the dark and forgotten in the daylight hours. You ignore the thoughts when you go to lunch with Jungkook, have dinner with all your friends, go grocery shopping with Yoonji, let yourself act as if that conversation never happened.

You assume Yoonji has forgotten it too. Or at least chosen to leave that conversation with that night.

Until you come home from buying snacks one night for the weekly smoking session to find Jungkook there too. Which in and of itself isn’t too strange. While you and Yoonji are the primary partakers of this night, all of your friends rotate in and out when the mood strikes. Most of the others usually go out drinking. Or study. And everyone rotates between the three activities with whatever strikes their mood (or is required by their grades).

But Jungkook had said earlier in the day that he was going out with Tae and Jimin. He’s not even dressed for it, like he was just stopping by for a moment and then going to meet up with the others. Instead dressed comfortably in loose gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt, his blond hair still slightly damp from a shower under the hood he still has pulled up.

You give him a smile as you set the snacks on the coffee table and move to sit on the couch. “I thought you were going out to drink?”

Jungkook shuffles from foot to foot nervously, glancing from you to Yoonji, who’s sat on the other side of the couch. “I uh… changed my mind?”

You frown, unsure of his odd behavior. He’s acting as if he’s never been to your apartment before, despite the fact that besides the two of you, he’s here the most. But Yoonji simply beckons him to sit, which he does so after a moment of hesitation, nervously tugging his hood off his head. Once he sits, you expect Yoonji to pull out a blunt and get the night started, but the silence stretches and she makes no moves to do so. You reach out to nudge her, head tilted questioningly.

She gives you a quick glance before looking at Jungkook. “I have a proposition. For you both.” Brows furrowing, you’re about to question her when she continues. “Your noonas have a little theory they’d like to test.”

Your heart stops. There’s only one possible thing she could be talking about that would involve both a proposition and a theory that you both had. Is she just planning to ask him? But that wouldn’t involve a proposition…

Oh.

She’s planning to ask him to let you both dom him. Stomach knotting uncomfortably, you worry that this could ruin the friendship the three of you share. That it could ruin the entire friendship dynamic of the whole group. You could lose a roommate, friends. But even with the bad scenarios running through your mind, you can’t deny the bolt of heat that sears straight to your core at even the barest hint of possibility of getting the pretty boy before you underneath you instead.

Jungkook swallows, gaze darting from Yoonji to you and back. You wonder what Yoonji said to him to get him to come tonight. “What… What’s the theory?”

She gives a soft smile, but there's a predatory edge to it. You’ve seen it on her when you’ve gone to bars and clubs, wielded against unsuspecting people that she wants to spend the night with. You’ve seen the effects of that look on people and Jungkook is no different, already looking like he’s hooked on her every word, even if there’s still a touch of nerves in the tense line of his shoulders. She gestures for Jungkook to move from the chair to sit between you both on the couch. He hesitates before shuffling the short distance to sit where directed. You can’t help but note that he’s good at following instructions. It makes something hot twist in your belly.

Yoonji shifts, kneeling on the cushion so she can press closer to Jungkook, close enough to whisper in his ear, though her tone is loud enough for you to hear too. “Your noonas have a theory that you are just the sweetest little sub ever.”

Jungkook tenses up at the words, and though it’s hard to tell if it’s from discomfort or just shock at Yoonji’s bold statement, you slide closer to be a reassuring hand to counterpoint Yoonji’s boldness.

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, Jungkook, just tell us. We don’t want to cause you any discomfort, okay?” you murmur soothingly, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Yoonji peaks around to give you a grateful smile, although you’re unsure if it’s because you are joining her in her proposition or if it’s because you know enough to ensure that Jungkook’s comfort is the most important thing here.

Thinking for a moment, Jungkook gives a small nod and Yoonji takes that as her sign to continue. “Would you let your noonas find out if they’re right?”

“B-both of you?” he swallows, gaze darting between the two of you.

Leaning closer, you let your lips brush his ear, relishing the shiver you feel run through him. “Your noonas have seen the way you look at them when we dance together on nights out.”

He stiffens beneath you and you pull back just enough to see the flush starting to color his cheeks. In truth, you know he’s not the only one that does. Jimin and Taehyung fairly regularly comment on how you both steal the show. And you and Yoonji aren’t blind, you know the way you both captivate an audience when you’re together, dressed up and putting on a show just for the thrill. But you’ve definitely caught Jungkook staring the most. Eyes hooded and lips parted like you and Yoonji are there solely for his entertainment. The way you’ve seen him have to restrain himself from approaching the both of you. It’s even more thrilling than the eyes of strangers on you.

Yoonji coos. “Do you like watching your noonas together, baby?”

She doesn’t allow him a chance to answer though because as soon as the question has been asked, she’s nudging him back so he’s more reclined, leaving the two of you staring at each other over his chest. A moment passes, where you just stare at each other, as Jungkook looks between you both.

There’s a wry twist to her lips and then she’s reaching out to pull you in for a kiss. The sudden press of her soft lips to yours has your brain short circuiting. All thought and reason leaving you, focus narrowed entirely down to the pressure of her mouth on yours. She tastes like strawberry and the sudden, lightest brush of her tongue across your lip has your brain kick starting again just as she starts to pull away. That simply won’t do. Hand tangling in her hair, you keep her close, keep the kiss going as you deepen it and you relish the slick slide of her tongue against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing her so much, but it’s nothing compared to reality. Yoonji is demanding, just as demanding as you are, and there are moments where the kiss turns a little rougher as one of you tries for the upper hand. It’s addicting, the feel of her, the rush, that you get lost in the kiss. So much so, that you entirely forget about Jungkook beneath you until he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling away from Yoonji, you both glance down at him and you nearly coo at the sight. He looks much like he does on nights that you’ve caught him watching you dance. But up close like this, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his tongue darts out occasionally to lick at his pink, bitten lips, how blown his eyes are already and he hasn’t even been touched yet.

Disentangling yourself from Yoonji, you run an affectionate hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Do you want this, baby?” When he starts to nod again, you tighten your hand in his hair, halting his movement. “We need your words, Jungkook.”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, eyes darting down in embarrassment before trying again. “Yes, noona. Want this… Want you both…”

Pleased, you let your hand drift down, cupping his cheek and thumbing gently along his cheekbone. “Yeah? Have you thought about this a lot? Have you thought about your noonas often?”

Swallowing, his gaze darts between the two of you nervously. And oh, you had just been teasing. But the nervous flit of his gaze, the way he won’t focus on either of you for longer than a moment. He has thought about the two of you. You wonder what he’s thought about, for how long. Has he touched himself while thinking about one of you? Both of you? Yoonji seems to pick up on the implication of his nonanswer too, because her lips are curling into a teasing smirk.

“Have you, baby? What a naughty boy. Thinking about your noonas like that.” Jungkook squirms, mouth open like he’s about to protest the statement, but Yoonji continues speaking. “Noona has too. Thought about how pretty you’d look and how good you’d be.”

Jungkook falters, blinking big eyes up at Yoonji with wonder. Like he never imagined that either of you would think of him the way he thinks of you. A breath shudders out of him as his eyes squeeze closed. You make the decision to move this from the couch if you’re going to go through with it.

Shifting, you push yourself to your feet, glancing at Yoonji to see that she follows your actions with a questioning furrow to her brows. Jungkook blinks his eyes open at the movement, blinking up at you both. You hold your hand out and after a moment, he takes it. Pulling him to his feet, Yoonji grabs his other hand and takes charge in leading Jungkook down the hall to her bedroom.

The air in Yoonji’s room feels thick with heat. She flips a light on, letting soft, purple light fill the room and leaving it cast in subdued shades. You both release Jungkook’s hands, moving in near perfect synchronicity despite the fact that you’ve never done this before. There’s something unspoken that moves you both together. Standing side by side, you both face Jungkook, gazes slowly trailing over the younger man. He shuffles on his feet under the scrutiny, hands clasping in front of him like he’s a child about to be scolded.

Yoonji’s head tilts, finger coming up to tap her chin in thought. “Something seems wrong here, doesn’t it?”

Humming, you nod in agreeance. “Yes, yes it does. Jungkook,” the boy starts at the call of his name, head jerking up to stare at you, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Yoonji snaps her fingers. “You’re right. Jungkook, baby, strip for your noonas.”

“N-now?” His fingers twitch where they’re clasped before him.

It’s cute how shy he has become. You’ve seen him shamelessly strip his shirt off at parties to do body shots, confidently pick up women at bars, boldly barge into rooms and capture everyone’s attention. You’ve only seen him this shy once, and that was when you all had first met him, before he had come out of his shell and grown close to you all.

When he makes no move to start undressing, you speak up. “Jungkook,” you wait until he’s looking at you. “Do you know the stoplight system?” He thinks for a moment before nodding, face clouded with confusion. “Color?”

Gaze darting from you to Yoonji and back again, his tongue peaks for a moment. “Green.”

Yoonji grins proudly at the answer. “Aw, are you just shy then, baby? Nervous about being naked in front of your noonas for the first time?”

Ducking his head, Jungkook gives you both a quick nod that you just want to coo over, however inappropriate that reaction may be right now be damned. Instead, you shoot for comforting. “How about we start slow then? Just your shirt. You can do that, can’t you, baby? We’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times before.”

Jungkook fidgets for another moment before his fingers grip the edge of his baggy sweater. Eyes squeezing shut, there’s only only a second more of hesitation before the sweater is being pulled up and off. He clings to it, the fabric hanging in his hands in front of his chest, but doing very little to hide anything. He peaks an eye open and sees the way Yoonji quirks an eyebrow at him and the sweater drops from his hands to the floor.

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times. Your entire friend group has. There was a period of a few months back towards the beginning of your friendship after he had gotten comfortable with you all that you would’ve sworn that he was allergic to shirts with how often you saw him shirtless. You know how toned he is, have been subjected to his ridiculous workouts on occasion, how diligently he works out simply for the fun of it. Muscles that shift under golden skin that you’ve seen at parties and on beach trips, that you’ve allowed yourself to glance out, appreciate and take in, but never to stare for too long and get caught.

Now though, you drink your fill of the sight before you. Jungkook is tall, and when he’s shirtless he exudes a cockiness born from the hungry looks of others; his posture always making him seem taller, take up more space. But now, now his shoulders are hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, seem less big even though his muscles make that nearly impossible.

He glances up at you both through the curtain of blonde bangs and you can see the way the flush from his cheeks starts to spread down his neck and chest. It makes you itch to mark the pretty skin up, stake a claim on the sweet, shy boy before you.

There’s a pleased hum from beside you. “Such a good boy, Jungkookie. You’re so good for your noonas, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, eyes positively shining at the praise. Well, you both certainly pegged that one right. Oh, now there’s an idea. That might have to wait though. You don’t want to completely overwhelm him right at the start.

“Now the pants, baby,” you grin, watching the way he swallows at the command.

Hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, his nerves seem to grow now that he’s about to be fully exposed before you both. He takes a deep breath and then shoves his sweats and underwear down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat and you know Yoonji must be having a similar reaction given the sharp inhale you hear from her.

Jungkook is absolutely stunning naked. You’ve known that his thighs were thick and just as toned as the rest of him, catching glimpses of the thick, corded muscles whenever he ditched sweats and his baggier clothing for jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto him. His hands immediately come together again in an attempt to cover his cock, already hard and leaking. But his hands do little to cover his long, thick cock, but it’s endearingly adorable that he tries.

“So pretty,” you murmur, eyes tracing over every inch of skin. You don’t know what you want to do first to him, so many ideas flash through your mind as you stare at him.

“So good, too. Can you lay down on the bed for us now, baby?”

Shyness seemingly forgotten for a moment, Jungkook nearly launches himself onto the bed, landing with a little bounce before he’s shuffling around so he’s stretched out in the middle of Yoonji’s bed. His eagerness is a good sign, showing that even if he’s nervous, that he very much wants to be here. The dark bedspread makes his skin seem to glow more and he looks absolutely gorgeous spread out for you.

Yoonji moves closer to the bed and you move to follow suit and stand beside her at the foot, both of you just taking a moment to look at Jungkook. His cock twitches where it rests against his belly and heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that it’s yours to touch. At least for tonight.

She turns to you then, hands landing on your hips to pull you closer. Chewing her lip for a moment, there’s an emotion that briefly flits across her face but before you can pin down what exactly it is she’s leaning in to press her lips to yours once again. Not letting yourself dwell on her expression, at least not now when there’s a very eager boy spread out for you both and Yoonji’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You can overthink later. Right now, you should just let yourself fall into the feel of her.

Her fingers dig into your hips and you let her get away with it only because you take the opportunity to slip your hands beneath her shirt, gripping her waist just as tightly for a moment before you’re tugging her shirt up and off. Kiss momentarily broken, you take the brief pause to look her over. Her bra is black and lacy, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes you want to get your mouth on them . You also know for a fact that it’s her ‘getting laid’ bra. Meaning she must have been pretty confident that the two of you would agree to this. You’re a little mad that she didn’t give you any sort of heads up to let you wear something better than just a comfy, colorful bra you use for daily wear. At least it’s cute.

Leaning in, you nip harshly at her bottom lip in retaliation and you know by her giggle that she knows exactly what it was for. What a cruel tease, you’re definitely going to get her back in the future. You don’t know how just yet, but you will. You sooth the bite with your tongue, but you don’t get a chance for another proper kiss because Yoonji takes the opportunity to tug your shirt off as well. She pulls away after dropping your shirt to the floor, hungrily eyeing you up as her tongue wets her lips. You feel a heady rush at being able to pull such a look from the typically collected Yoonji.

A moan pulls your attention back to the bed, where Jungkook has taken it upon himself to start lazily stroking himself, muscles shifting as his hips flex up into his grip. Exchanging glances, you and Yoonji quickly rid yourselves of your bottoms before climbing onto the bed on either side of Jungkook. This behavior simply won’t do.

Sitting on your knees beside his thigh, you're quick to let your hand smack against the skin there. The sound echoes in the quiet room and Jungkook jerks, though you don’t know if it’s more from the sudden sound or the heat that blooms across his thigh even if the smack you gave him was fairly mild in terms of punishment. But it has the desired effect, his hand halting on his cock, though he doesn’t remove his hand from himself. His expression morphs into a mix of betrayal and confusion.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Yoonji coos, hand wrapping around his wrist. “Have you ever done this before?”

Swallowing, he looks nervous again, gaze darting around the room, but never landing on either of you before he minutely shakes his head. Yoonji gently pulls his hand from his cock, letting it slap wetly against his belly.

“Aw, you poor thing. Have you always had to be the one in charge, huh? Do those girls see your big, pretty muscles and tattoos and just assume that you’re going to be domineering too? No one’s ever taken care of you like you deserve?” Yoonji murmurs, eyes burning as she speaks.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he blinks up at Yoonji. He shakes his head slightly and you can see how deeply he wants this. Wants to try, to let go and have someone else take control for once. Letting your fingers trail up his thigh, you trace a single fingertip up his cock with a featherlight touch, drawing a delightful gasp from him. He’s so sensitive to touch, it’s going to make this so much more fun.

“Lesson number one, baby. No touching without permission. That includes your pretty little cock. Bad boys get punished.”

“And punishment can get much worse than a little slap on the thigh, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know!”

Shushing him, you rub soothingly at the red mark you left on his thigh. It’s light and fairly small, a testament to how tame the smack was, but it makes you want to leave more, make them darker. Marks that remain for days, that remind Jungkook of your hands on him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re still learning. You won’t be punished.” You smirk teasingly. “This time at least.”

Licking his lips, he looks between you both. You can tell he’s thinking about something, but you can’t tell if the thought of punishment might actually be enticing to him or if he’s trying to figure out the rules without being told. Always the overachiever.

Yoonji releases his hand, letting it fall to rest against the bed once more. “We’ll go easy on you, baby, don’t worry. You’ll be a good boy for us, won’t you?” Jungkook nods quickly, hands clenching at the bedspread. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want…” he licks his lips, seems to think slowly over his wants in this moment. “Wanna see you kiss again.”

You giggle. “Aw, sweet thing,” you glance over at Yoonji, “doesn’t even want a kiss for himself.”

Yoonji tsks, wide grin matching yours. “Someone must really enjoy watching.”

Planting a hand high on Jungkook’s thigh, Yoonji mirrors your actions as you both lean closer to meet over Jungkook once more. This kiss is slow, you take your time and enjoy the feel of her soft mouth against yours. You could easily get lost in the kiss again, it would be so easy. Jungkook’s thigh twitches beneath your hand and you give him a small squeeze, acknowledge that you haven’t forgotten about him and it draws a soft moan from him.

The sound seems to spark something in Yoonji, as she surges closer, deepening the kiss. Her free hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw. Not wanting to be outdone, you reach out and let your fingers trace her collarbone before following her sternum down until you can palm at one of her covered breasts. That draws a soft gasp from her that you greedily swallow down.

Her hand tightens on your neck, pulling like it’s possible to pull you closer and her other hand abandons Jungkook’s thigh to grope at your breast. You both get greedy for the feel of each other. Your hand quickly leaves Jungkook’s thigh as well, slipping behind Yoonji to undo her bra. It falls slack on her shoulders, hindered from coming off by her hands on you. Bumping her hands off for a moment, you tug the offending article free from her and toss it off the bed. Yoonji wastes no time in getting her hands back on you once you’ve removed the bra and you’re now free to palm her tits in your hands.

Jungkook whimpers below you both, his hand bumps your thigh before it’s being jerked away. “N-noona…”

Parting with a gasp, you both look down at Jungkook, his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles nearly white. Your hands fall from each other as you give the prone man your attention. You’re impressed with his restraint, you hadn’t expected him to be so well behaved the very first time. But that’s actually pretty typical of Jungkook, excelling at anything he tries.

His pupils are blown with lust and he swallows his nerves as he speaks. “C-can… Can I touch too?”

“You wanna touch your noonas while they kiss, baby?” Yoonji asks. He nods, eyes wide and Yoonji’s answering smirk is bordering on mean. “Why?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you want to touch your noonas while they kiss, baby? I thought you just wanted us to kiss and touch each other?”

He looks to you, seemingly lost by the question. But you simply raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. He squirms a little, cock twitching. “Um… I… I…”

“Have you thought about touching us before?” you murmur, reaching out to cup Yoonji’s breast, thumbing at the nipple and drawing a sigh from her. “Have you thought about noona’s pretty tits and how they’d feel in your hands?”

Whining, Jungkook nods his assent eagerly, eyes fixed firmly on where your hand plays with Yoonji. Yoonji presses a quick kiss to your lips, casting a teasing look to Jungkook before she’s reaching up to unclasp your bra and tug it off of you to toss it behind her. Yoonji raises herself up onto her knees, pulling you with, and she leans you both together until your breasts press together. They’re just as soft against you as they were in your hands. If you weren’t focused on teasing Jungkook, you’d pin her down and get your mouth on them.

She glances to the side to look at Jungkook. “How do you wanna touch, baby?”

His eyes drag down your bodies slowly, gaze darting so quickly like there’s so much he wants to touch and he doesn’t know where to even begin. “Noona…” he whines.

You chuckle. “Aw, baby. Do you need your noonas to help you?”

“Please.”

“Put your hands on our hips.”

He’s eager and quick to comply, hands coming up to rest hot and heavy against the curve of your hip. His fingers flex against you, like he wants to move his hand to touch more but they remain in place. Yoonji leans in to kiss you again and you think you could kiss her forever. After a moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along her jaw and down her neck. Laving your tongue over her pulse point, you relish the shiver that runs through her. You’re overcome with the urge to mark her and so you let your teeth sink into her skin before soothing it with your tongue and sucking kisses. Yoonji groans in the back of her throat and you move down her neck to suck another dark mark and draw more noises from her.

You know logically that she’s been as affected by all this as you, but hearing the proof is intoxicating. It goes straight to your pussy and the longer you go on, the more you feel drip from you to soak your panties.

“What do you want next, baby?” Yoonji pants, hand reaching to cover the hand on your hip. His gaze drops to where your breasts are pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you wanna touch noonas’ tits? Greedy boy,” she chuckles breathlessly, ending in a gasp when you nip at her collarbone.

His hands twitch against you like he is fighting the urge to just do what he wants, to do what he’s always done with women. But he remains diligent and keeps his hands where he was told too. Pressing one last kiss to Yoonji’s neck, you pull away, staring at the darkening marks while a possessive heat curls in your belly. You shift then, nudging Jungkook’s thighs slightly apart and then you’re throwing a leg over to straddle his thigh, dropping down to press your clothed pussy against the corded muscle. The damp material drags deliciously against your pussy and any other time, you would ride his thigh until he was begging you to touch him or let him touch.

Gasping, Jungkook’s hand tightens enough to bruise and you grin down at him. “Can you feel how wet noona is for you, baby?”

He nods a little dazedly, looking down where you’re pressed against his thigh like he can’t believe what he’s feeling or seeing. Giving a little grind, you feel a rush of desire run through you at the breath that rushes from Jungkook’s lips.

“Baby,” you purr, “didn’t you want to touch noona’s tits?”

“Please…”

“Go ahead, baby.”

His hand quickly abandons your hip once he’s given permission; big, warm palm cupping one of your breasts like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You have to fight down the urge to giggle at the unexpected tenderness. Yoonji moves beside you, straddling Jungkook’s other thigh and she takes the opportunity to move Jungkook’s other hand for him, placing it over one of her breasts.

Gaze darting from one hand to the other, his hands remain frozen for a long moment before he’s tentatively squeezing. Then he quickly grows more confident, seemingly more familiar with at least this part as his fingers tease at your nipple. Leaning slightly to the side, you press a kiss to Yoonji’s shoulder until you have her attention and then you’re pressing your lips to hers once more. Letting your hand slip into her hair, you tilt her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand lands on your waist, fingers tracing a burning path down until they can grope at your ass.

Your hips jerk, clit dragging across Jungkook’s thigh and a moment later, you feel his muscles shift as he flexes. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you glance down at him with a smirk. Jungkook looks perfectly debauched beneath you both. The flush dusting his cheeks stretches down his chest, his bright eyes burn with want as his hands work on both you and Yoonji. His cock rests heavy against his belly, tip dark with neglect, but he seems wholly oblivious to it even as your attention zeroes in on it.

“What a good boy you’re being. Giving noona something to grind against?”

His dick twitches at that and you let a finger brush gently down the length. A loud gasp leaves his lips, hips straining upward but he can’t get very far with the combined weight of you and Yoonji pinning his legs down. You give a deliberate grind down, Jungkook’s eyes quickly zeroing in on where your clothed pussy meets his bare thigh. Hands falling still on your breast, he licks his lips before his hand is slowly sliding down to timidly tug at the waistband of your panties.

“Can… Can these come off?”

Yoonji hums. “Wanna see noona’s bare pussy, baby?”

Nodding quickly, he looks up at you both with wide eyes. “Yes, please. Wanna see.”

The hand on your ass slides around to rest just on the waistband of your panties. “You wanna see just how wet our pretty baby boy has made us?”

Breath shuddering, he nods again, eyes trained on Yoonji’s hand as it finally slips into your panties. You groan as her fingers slip between your folds, fingertips teasing across your clit before dipping lower to gather your wetness. Before she can do much more than leave a few teasing touches, she’s pulling her hand from your panties and holding her hand up for you all to see. Jungkook’s gaze bores into the glistening digits, licking his lips slowly.

“Open,” she commands and his mouth falls obediently open, hope shining in his eyes when her fingers inch closer to his lips. “Do you want to taste noona?”

“Yes,” he breaths out, tongue extending like it’ll get Yoonji’s fingers to his mouth faster.

She stops just before she reaches his tongue and when he strains closer in an attempt to touch, she pulls her fingers away, keeping them teasingly just out of his reach. “Answer noona’s question first, baby. Good boy’s always answer when asked a question. And you wouldn’t want to be bad, now would you?”

Blonde hair flies as he quickly shakes his head no. “No! I’m good! I promise! Please, I wanna taste noona!”

Yoonji’s smile softens. “What a good boy.”

With that, her fingers press against his tongue. Moaning, Jungkook’s lips close around the digits as he sucks enthusiastically. You wonder if he’s as enthusiastic when he’s eating someone out and your pussy clenches at the thought. A few moments later, she pulls her fingers free and Jungkook’s lips purse in a pout, drawing a laugh from both of you. You shift, finally tugging your panties down to discard over the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes are drawn back to your pussy, now bared for him to see.

His hand twitches where it rests against your hip, but it doesn’t move and there’s a rush of heat that accompanies the fact that he’s doing so well already. Turning to Yoonji, you begin to tug at her panties, earning a laugh from her as she moves to help you get them off of her.

As much as you want to take in Jungkook’s reaction to you both being naked before him, you can’t stop the greedy part of you that reaches out to slip your hand between her legs to touch. A soft sigh leaves her lips and you can’t help but lean in to smother the sound with a kiss. Your fingers find her just as wet as you are yourself and you relish in the moment to tease your fingers along her pussy.

Whining, Jungkook squirms beneath you both, thigh inadvertently bumping your hand harder against Yoonji and further smearing her wetness across your palm. You pull your hand away and Jungkook follows the movement with laser focus.

“Want to taste your other noona, baby?” you tease.

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

Biting your lip on a smile, you move your hand slowly closer to his open mouth, watching the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before you reach his lips, you stop, drawing a pretty pout from the boy. Then you wink and you quickly bring your fingers to your own mouth instead. Twin gasps greet the action as you slip two fingers into your mouth and moan at the taste of Yoonji on your tongue. Your eyes slip closed as you suck your fingers clean and when you pull your fingers free and glance down to Jungkook, you’re met with a look that is equal parts jealous and hungry.

Hand dropping to the bed beside him, his eyes widen as you lean over him. “Still want a taste, baby?”

His gaze darts to your lips as he nods. You seal your mouth over his, taking advantage of the surprised part to his lips to slip your tongue in. He whimpers, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he chases the taste of Yoonji on your lips.

Kissing Jungkook is nothing like kissing Yoonji. He’s like putty beneath you, following your lead where Yoonji fought you for control, kept you on your toes. Not necessarily aggressive, but Yoonji kisses you with a consuming hunger, burning you from the inside out. Jungkook is like a breath of fresh air, he’s soft and needy, making these quiet little huffs with each brush of your tongue. You wonder if he realizes that he’s moved his hands, that he’s touching you when he’s not supposed to be, but you decide to let it slide just this once. You’re much more interested in drawing out more of those sweet, little sounds from him.

A moment later though, his hands are being pulled away and Yoonji is tutting him as she leans against you to pin his hands to the bed. “Naughty boy, what did we say about touching?”

With a whine, he pulls away from your mouth. “‘M sorry... “

You snicker. “Is noona so good at kissing that you forgot the rules, sweet thing?”

Jungkook lets out a low whine again. “Noona.”

Yoonji shifts against you, hands adjusting her grip on Jungkook’s wrists and you’re momentarily distracted by the press of her breasts against your back. Pressing again, she forces you to drop fully against Jungkook as she hooks her chin over your shoulder.

“I’ll just have to hold you while noona kisses you, hm?”

He squirms beneath you and you see him strain feebly against Yoonji’s hands. You all know that he could easily break her hold; that the strain he shows is feigned and exaggerated. But his acquiescence to her grip, to you both taking control, is the most telling thing to his desires. He wants this, just as much as you both. Even if he’s new and inexperienced in this aspect, he wants.

His lips part with small huffs and you can’t help yourself when you dip back down to kiss him. He squirms again before melting entirely into the kiss, letting Yoonji hold him still while you lick into his mouth. A heady rush fills you at his pliancy, you always imagined him submitting, but it was nothing like this. Jungkook behaves like he’s been subbing for you both for ages, like he knows the routine, that the momentary lapses in following the rules is nothing more than being a little bratty to provoke a reaction.

The kiss stretches, you don’t know for how long, getting lost in the feeling of Jungkook beneath you and the softness of Yoonji’s breasts pressing into your back. Jungkook’s hips twitch, his cock brushing wetly against your side and you finally decide to have some mercy on him. Lifting slightly, Yoonji gets the hint and sits up fully, allowing you to do the same. You smile at the way Jungkook is laid out, eyes lidded, lips kiss swollen and flush sitting high on his cheeks. He looks fucked out already and barely anything has happened yet.

Taking Yoonji’s hand in yours, you lift it to your lips to press a soft kiss to the palm. “I think it’s time to reward our baby, hm? He’s been so good for his first time.”

Her fingers brush your cheek as she smiles. “He does.” She turns her attention back to Jungkook. “How do you want your noonas, baby?”

Swallowing, his gaze flicks back and forth between the two of you. He takes a long time to answer, seemingly nervous. “I… I don’t know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Aw sweetheart, there’s no need to be sorry. You’re just overwhelmed, huh?” He nods, lips pursed in a pout, and you continue. “Do you want your noonas to pick something for your reward for you?”

“Yes, please… There’s too many things… I can’t pick…”

You pat his side affectionately. “It’s okay, baby. Noonas will take good care of you.”

His eyes shine at your praise as he nods eagerly. You and Yoonji exchange looks and seem to be thinking the same thing as you move off Jungkook’s thigh to move further up the bed and Yoonji shifts to fully straddle his hips.

Yoonji grins as she sees the way Jungkook follows your movement. “Ever had someone sit on your face, baby?”

Eyes widening, his gaze darts to Yoonji before turning back to you and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t answer. “N-no…”

“Pinch my thigh if you need to stop for any reason, okay, baby?” You wait for him to murmur a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to throw your leg over his head.

You feel his breath hot against your wet folds and when you glance up at Yoonji, you see her focus is trained where you sit just above Jungkook’s mouth. With a lick of your lips, you lower yourself until your pussy presses to Jungkook’s mouth, which instantly falls open, tongue darting out to lap at your slit. Groaning, you grind against his tongue, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy the pleasure sizzling in your belly.

Then you’re reaching up for Yoonji, grabbing her hips to tug her until she’s hovering over Jungkook’s cock. One hand slides from her hips and you let your fingers trace lightly along her slit, knuckles brushing his cock as you do.

You hold Yoonji’s gaze as you begin speaking, fingers dipping between her folds to tease at her clit. “Gotta get noona ready for you, baby. Get her nice and stretched for your big, pretty cock.”

Jungkook whines against you and Yoonji lets out a low moan as you slip a finger into her. Yoonji is warm and wet and tight around your finger and your breath stutters as she clenches around the digit. Letting your finger curl, you rub against her walls, searching for that spongy bundle of nerves.

It takes a few seconds, your attention being pulled by Jungkook’s tongue as he enthusiastically eats you out. But you find it quick enough, signaled by the sharp gasp that leaves her lips when you finally brush against it. Grinning victoriously, you tease at the bundle until her thighs begin to quiver, pleased to have wrung such a reaction from her.

Her hand darts out suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly. Her gaze is dark when it meets yours and she arches an eyebrow at you. “I think you’re enjoying yourself more than getting me ready for our baby,” she teases.

Your body heats. She’s not wrong, you maybe did forget what you were doing a little bit. Grinning, you slide your finger out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with two. “Guilty.”

She opens her mouth to speak again but you let your thumb brush her clit and it effectively silences her retort. She glares for only a moment before letting her head fall back with a groan and letting herself enjoy the slow pumps of your fingers.

Slipping a third finger in, Yoonji’s hips start to move, little grinds that push your hand against Jungkook’s cock. You lift your hips slightly, giving Jungkook a moment to breath.

“Are you ready for noona to ride you, baby?” you ask as you pull your fingers from Yoonji.

All you get in response is a whimper as you grasp his cock with your wet fingers, other hand settling on Yoonji’s hip and you guide him to her entrance. You give her hip a squeeze and she lets herself drop, pulling your hand away so her hips can settle flush to his. You can feel Jungkook’s breath panting hot against your pussy, his hands squeezing tightly at the sheets.

“How does noona’s pussy feel, baby?” you murmur. He whines and you give his nipple a pinch, making his hips jerk. “When noona asks a question, she expects an answer.”

“‘M sorry… Noona feels good…”

You let your free hand settle on Yoonji’s other hip. “How’s he feel?”

“Fuck… so good. He’s such a good boy.”

Jungkook’s hands suddenly wrap around your thighs. You jerk in surprise, ready to reprimand him, but before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back down onto his mouth. Yoonji laughs breathlessly, hands coming to rest on his belly as she starts to lift her hips.

“How’s his mouth?”

Giving her a groan in response, you grind against his tongue, toes curling as his fingers tighten against your thighs. Both of you fall quiet, save for pants and moans, letting yourselves be consumed with chasing your own pleasure for a moment. Heat simmers in your belly, building with each swipe of Jungkook’s tongue and teasing suck to your clit. Jungkook’s efforts combined with the view of Yoonji riding his cock has your orgasm building until one harsh suck pushes you over the edge.

Head falling back, you moan as your orgasm spreads through your veins, igniting like fire and leaving you shuddering as Jungkook seems to get even more enthusiastic below you. You vaguely hear Yoonji swear under her breath, but you don’t have it in you to look at her as Jungkook draws your orgasm out.

Finally you lift your hips, overstimulation beginning to creep in, and you and Jungkook pant together as your high slowly ebbs away and you come back to yourself. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yoonji’s have slipped closed as she moves and you find your gaze glued to the way her tits bounce with each movement.

Seeing an opportunity, you reach forward, letting your fingers find her clit and her eyes shoot open with a gasp at your touch. You grin, shifting so you’re knelt beside the pair. “Baby,” you coo, “look how pretty noona looks sitting on your dick.”

It takes him a moment, but Jungkook’s head lifts and your pussy clenches at the sheen of your slick covering the lower half of his face. His lips are parted as he makes sweet, little noises, soft moans and whines, and his hazy eyes trail over you both like he doesn’t truly know where to look. You swirl your fingers, drawing a wheezed gasp from Jungkook and you can’t help the teasing grin that forms.

“Aw, baby. Did noona tighten up? Is she close? Are you gonna be good and let her cum on your cock?”

Jungkook’s nodding before you even finish speaking, hips twitching in small little thrusts and you pick up the pace on her clit. Leaning forward, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, teeth teasing the bud before you sooth it with your tongue.

“Fuck… gonna-” She cuts off, moving faster until her hips slam down as she starts to cum.

You keep your fingers going, gradually slowing down as her orgasm shudders through her. Jungkook whines and squirms beneath her, but remains more still that others would. She tugs your hand away finally as she continues to shiver with aftershocks. You bring your fingers to your mouth with a teasing glance and lick them clean as she watches through hooded eyes.

Jungkook whimpers, drawing both of attention to him and Yoonji lifts herself off his cock, drawing an even louder whine from him.

You pat his side soothingly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna take care of you. Want your noona’s mouth?”

He blinks wet eyes at you both, cock twitching where it lays against his belly and Yoonji laughs. “I think that’s a yes.”

She takes him in her hand and his hips strain up into her grip. He’s so desperate already and you have barely even teased him or drawn this out. He’s definitely going to be fun in the future. Leaning down, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, licking up the taste of Yoonji and Jungkook together. They taste wonderfully divine. His hips strain upwards again and you and Yoonji each use a hand to hold his hips down as you continue your slow, teasing licks. Once you’ve licked all traces of Yoonji from him, you take him into your mouth, humming in content at the way he stretches your lips.

“‘M g-gonna… please… please can I?”

“Aw, you’re asking permission? You’re such a good boy. Of course you can cum, baby. You’ve been so good to your noonas.”

It takes only a couple bobs of your head for his back to bow as the first spurt of salty fluid hits your tongue. He cries out, body strung tight as he cums down your throat. You let your tongue rub at his frenulum as you and Yoonji work to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. When he begins to tremble and whimper, you finally pull away, licking your lips clean as you do.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut tight, shuddering through the last aftershocks and he looks beautifully debauched. Glancing at Yoonji, you see the same fond look on her face that you know to be on yours. Leaning down, you pepper a few kisses to his lips and cheeks before stretching out beside him and cuddling up to his side.

“You did such a good job, baby. You were so good for us,” you murmur, letting your hand rub his belly.

Yoonji mirrors you and after a moment, halts your rubbing by interlacing your fingers with her. The look on her face is hard to read, but she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“The best baby,” she agrees, turning to Jungkook and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Jungkook gets a goofy grin, seeming to melt between the both of you at the praise. At the rate he’s going, he might have a bigger praise kink than Jimin. You all fall silent, breath evening out and simply enjoy the afterglow. You assume Jungkook at the very least has fallen asleep as your mind begins to swirl with the implications of what just happened.

Leave it to your overthinking to ruin a nice postcoital cuddle. But you can’t help but wonder where this leaves the three of you. Was this just a one time thing? Does it mean anything deeper? You want so badly for it to mean more, but you also know that getting your hopes up leads to more hurt in the end.

Jungkook surprises you by breaking the silence, voice rough like he’s fighting sleep. “What does this mean?”

He sounds so small when he says it, it makes your heart ache a little. You’re not sure how to answer him though, because you also don’t really know what this means. You know what it means for you, but you can’t speak for Yoonji, or even Jungkook.

Yoonji pushes up onto her elbow so she can look at you both and you see that same fond look in her eyes again. It makes something warm and content twist in your belly. “I thought I had made my intentions clear, but I guess not. I like you.” Before the hurt you feel can stretch too far, she looks at you. “Both of you. I had intended to get that done first tonight. But, uh, well things got a little carried away.”

Jungkook snorts. “Only a little?”

She pulls her hand from yours, giving him a quick pinch. “Hey! Don’t go getting mouthy now.”

Grinning in response, he wraps his arms around you both, tugging you somehow closer. “I like you both too… I have for a really long time…” he pauses, seeming to think for a moment before continuing. “And I really liked tonight… What we did… I’d like to explore more of that…”

They both look at you and you can’t help the giddy grin that spreads across your face. You push yourself up just enough to lean across to give Yoonji a kiss and then turn to give Jungkook one too. “Of course I like you both. God, who couldn’t? You both are so wonderful.”

Jungkook giggles happily and then in the blink, he’s managed to get you and Yoonji pushed together as he hovers over you both. He gives you each a kiss to the forehead. “So does this mean you’ll be my girlfriends?” Laughing, you give him a nod and he glows with happiness. “I have the prettiest girlfriends.”

You and Yoonji both reach up, each cupping one of his cheeks. Warm floods you, feeling happy and content with them both.

“And we have the prettiest boyfriend.”

#bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #yoonji x reader #yoonji smut #yoonji fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut

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taexual · 4 years ago

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (18)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: suggestive themes, lots of teasing & domestic fluff 🥺

words: 7.1k

chapter eighteen

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing that you felt wasn’t the disruptive rays of sun on your face – you’d forgotten to draw the curtains last night – but soft, almost feather-light touches of fingertips on your collarbones. And, even though you had never woken up next to anyone like this before, you didn’t flinch or pull away.

Instead, you opened your eyes and immediately regretted not doing it sooner. Jungkook was laying on the bed next to you, his eyes still hazy with sleep and his lips parted in concentration as he drew patterns on the edges of your skin.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice quiet. You weren’t sure if you were truly awake yet, or if this was one of the overly realistic dreams that you’d had before.

Jungkook looked at you, surprised to hear you speak – he hoped not to wake you – but relieved when he saw the soft smile on your face.

“Trying to make sure you’re really here,” he answered, his morning voice breathy and raspy, and enough to make your stomach clench and your smile spread in admiration, despite the corny words.

You closed your eyes again. “Did you practice that line?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, shameless. “How’d I do?”

You hummed in content. “The delivery was nice. But it’s all very cliché. I’d say a six out of ten.”

He chuckled lazily, pulling his hands away and prompting you to look up at him again, in a way a dog would look at the person who’d stopped scratching its’ head – disappointed and outraged by the audacity.

“I’ll do better next time,” Jungkook promised, almost naturally reaching for you again – this time, to brush an unruly strand of your hair away from your face.

“Next time?” you asked, not trying to insinuate anything other than your intention to find out his plans for the immediate future.

He read too much into it, however. He cocked an eyebrow as he lifted himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t like that voice,” he said. “You’re about to tell me I was just a one-night-stand for you, aren’t you?”

You laughed, turning on your back but still watching him. “I’ve known you for twenty-three years.”

“Not like that, you didn’t.”

You looked away, your face warm. The smile on your lips was relentless, however – it gave no opportunity for you to pretend like the stressful night last night, and the way it ended, wasn’t a pleasant visitor in your memory.

“What do you want to do today?” Jungkook asked, feeling his arms go numb from supporting all of his weight, but not caring about it too much because, this way, he could see you better.

“Not a thing,” you told him, completely serious. “I want to stay in bed.”

“Alright,” he said, laying back down next to you as he decided firmly, “that’s what we’re doing then.”

You turned your head to face him. “Your bandmates will kill you.”

“That’s only if I go home,” he said, not seeming the slightest bit fazed about his impending doom. “If I don’t, then I’m safe.”

His indifference got you to smile; the relationship dynamics between Jungkook and his bandmates resembled a sibling connection far more than just a friendship. Still, he needed to do right by them.

“You can’t avoid them for the rest of your life,” you said.

“You underestimate me,” he shot back, very proud of himself.

“Jungkook,” you countered seriously.

“Well, I won’t really avoid them for the rest of my life,” he defended, “but maybe for the rest of the weekend.”

“Jungkook—”

“I liked the sound of my name on your lips a lot more last night,” he pointed out, deliberately distracting you.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip as if he could physically see the bolt of electricity that his words sent right into your stomach. He couldn’t get used to witnessing how the effect he had on you manifested on your face.

“Hmm,” you resisted the pull of his eyes. “Did you rehearse that, too?”

“No,” he replied, leaning in closer, “believe it or not, a lot of this charm comes naturally to me.”

“Must’ve had a lot of practice, then,” you spoke, your voice so quiet, it was barely above a whisper, as his face lingered a few millimetres away from yours.

“Or a lot of daydreams,” he said, “and night dreams. And evening dreams. And morning—”

You ended up having to be the one who kissed him – to shut him up before you admitted that his cheesy pick-up lines made your traitor heart flutter; but it wasn’t so much the lines, as it was the undisguised fondness in his eyes, really. Smiling into the kiss, Jungkook was quick to take over by touching your cheek with his hand lightly, and shifting your face into his so he could deepen the kiss.

You pulled away with a half-hearted whine, your lips smacking as you broke the kiss. “It’s too early. I haven’t showered or even brushed my teeth yet.”

Jungkook looked absurdly offended. “You kissed me!”

“To get you to shut up,” you clarified.

“Oh, so the sound of my voice annoys you?” he jabbed, “very well. Let’s go.”

He rolled away from you and sat up in bed.

You watched him, confused and somewhat disappointed that his plans, clearly, did not include staying in bed the whole day, after all. “Go where? Where are you—”

Jungkook stood up and pulled you by your hands until you were sitting up. You refused to stand until he answered you and he clicked his tongue at your resistance.

“We,” he said, emphasizing the plural word as he gave you one more pull, forcing you to climb off the bed, “are going to take a shower.”

It already felt unusual – and uncomfortable now that it was daytime – to stand around in your room next to Jungkook, dressed in virtually nothing because you hadn’t bothered to find your respective clothes last night: he gave up after he untangled his boxers from his jeans, and you settled for his shirt. Now that he’d mentioned a shared shower, you started to feel even more self-conscious.

“We are—no, what are you saying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively as Jungkook realized he regretted tossing you his shirt last night – he didn’t want it back now, not unless you were in it.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand and heading for the door of your dorm.

You stayed put. “Together?”

“You’re not very sharp in the mornings, are you?” he teased and then smirked before you could punch him. “I like that. Yes. Together.”

He kept going – or, rather, tried to keep going because you still weren’t moving – and when he turned to look at you, exasperation was clear in his eyes.

“Jungkook, the showers here are communal,” you told him.

“Even better!” he replied. Not even an earthquake would have changed his mind.

“How is that better?” you frowned.

“I don’t mind an audience.”

You punched his shoulder. “I mind!”

Laughing, Jungkook let go of one of your hands and rubbed his shoulder.

“Well, it’s seven in the morning right now,” he said, not checking the time on his phone again – he’d done that as soon as he woke up, and he decided to abandon the device for the rest of the day. “I’m sure everyone’s still asleep.”

“Seven,” you repeated, all oxygen leaving your lungs until you felt like a deflated balloon. “Oh, God. No wonder I feel so tired. Why were you awake this early?”

“Why would I waste my time sleeping when I’m with you?” Jungkook asked with a face so straight, you’d have really believed all of this came to him naturally. “Now come on, let’s go.”

And you went with him – mostly because he refused to let you refuse, but also because your refusal wasn’t entirely genuine – almost forgetting to grab the towels and the soap on your way out of the door.

You were beyond surprised to learn that the sight of a boy, taking a confident stroll down the hallway, dressed in his boxers and nothing else, didn’t make you cringe and look away at all. If anything, the dorm doors and the people living behind them was what seemed out of place here, because Jungkook – guiding you towards the communal showers – looked like he was right in his element.

“You ever worry your cockiness is going to get you in trouble?” you asked when Jungkook pulled the door open. You exhaled in relief at the sight of the empty shower stalls all around you.

“No,” he answered, smiling. “You do the worrying for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “You give me too much credit. I’m clearly letting you do whatever you want at this point.”

“Oh, so, does that permission include doing whatever I want to you?” he was grinning as he pulled you into the closest stall and pressed you against the tiled wall, forgetting the curtains or anyone who may have walked in at any moment.

“Maybe not while we’re in public,” you replied, managing to push him off of you – and ignoring his disappointed pout, “it’s highly unhygienic.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he countered while you busied yourself with the shower curtain which had one of its’ plastic hoops stuck on the rod and wasn’t moving.

“Well, then, don’t look so sad,” you said, giving him a look over your shoulder – immediately, he smirked at your tone – and tugging the shower curtain harder until it finally slid down the rod and separated the two of you from the rest of the room. “You should have been prepared for this.”

“You’re the one who has to be prepared for everything,” he pointed out. “I just go with the flow.”

“That’s not always a good thing,” you countered, crossing your arms. “As I’m sure you know by now—”

Not waiting until you finished lecturing him, Jungkook settled for the most childish way to change the topic and turned the shower on. You gasped in surprise when the cold water splashed you, soaking the front of your – his – shirt completely.

“Jungkook!” you scolded, jumping away from the direct stream of water while he, predictably, laughed.

“What?” he asked, all sugar and spice and everything nice. “We’re in the shower.”

Then, to further prove his point that he hadn’t done anything wrong by getting you wet, even if you were still in your clothes, he turned the shower head towards himself and brought his hands through his hair until he was completely soaked.

You were frozen for a minute – which was exactly what he’d intended – watching Jungkook act out a shampoo commercial right in front of you.

“It’s not showering if you’re wearing all of your clothes,” you muttered under your breath finally, once you painfully tore your eyes away from the droplets of water that traced every crevice of his skin; a cascading waterfall that framed his half-naked body.

“Ah, so you want me to undress!” he translated excitedly and awarded you with a wink that could have made the devil himself flustered. “Should have said so from the beginning.”

“I wasn’t—”

Leaning down under the running water to take his boxers off, Jungkook promised, “your wish is my command.”

After a whole lot of giggling and slipping, and very little actual, legitimate scrubbing and cleaning, you and Jungkook walked out of the shower hand-in-hand, with smiles on your faces.

The sight of the pure joy in both of your eyes as you crossed the hallway back towards your dorm room, left little to the imagination, but you did not run into anyone, so, for all you knew, no one, aside from the two of you, was aware of what had happened in the shower this morning.

In fact, you loved the idea that you and Jungkook were the only people here – there wasn’t a single passerby, a single (un)bothered observer, or anyone else who could have otherwise interrupted you two. It was just you and him. Finally, you-and-him.

“I’ve never lived in a dorm,” Jungkook said once you were back in your room as he used a separate towel to tousle his hair, splashing water around like a shaggy dog. “But I really enjoy the showers here.”

“You got to experience them at a good time,” you replied. “It’s a lot less fun when there are people in every stall.”

“Hmm, I bet. And less fun without me, too, yeah?”

You gave him a look as you unwrapped your hair from the towel on top of your head. “You’re too full of yourself.”

“Me?” Jungkook feigned innocence. His angelic smile was a clear indication that some inane entity had possessed him today and he was absolutely not going to quit teasing you anytime soon. “I’m the most underrated—”

You interrupted, “self-absorbed, arrogant, inconsiderate—”

“—person there is. Hold on now,” he took a threatening step towards you, raising his eyebrows, “did you just call me inconsiderate?”

“Well, you rarely think about other people’s feelings when you do something,” you retaliated and Jungkook – who enjoyed the proud smirk on your lips, but only because he couldn’t wait to wipe it off with a kiss – pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“You mistake my intentions,” he said. “I always think about—”

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, cutting him off mid-excuse. You turned around in the direction of the sound, breaking eye contact, and Jungkook groaned in disappointment.

“Now who,” he demanded, “is bold enough to ruin my monologue about how caring and selfless I am?”

You scoffed, side-eyeing him before you reached for your phone and, much to your surprise, saw a text from Namjoon – who was wondering if you’d found Jungkook last night and if he was alright.

“If it’s Yoongi, tell him that yes, I’m avoiding him, and no, I’m not coming home today,” Jungkook said after noticing the way you bit your lip once you read the text.

“It’s not Yoongi. But you should probably call him,” you said absentmindedly as you tried to compose a text message that involved the right amount of gratitude for Namjoon’s help last night, but also just enough cold politeness, so that Jungkook wouldn’t have any reason to cause a scene. He already had a wary expression on his face after you said it wasn’t his bandmate who’d texted you.

Then, you stopped typing and raised your head to look at the boy, sitting on the bed across from you. “Wait. What do you mean you’re not coming home?”

He shrugged, lying down on your bed. “I’m staying here.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Did we agree on that?”

“Yes,” he replied, “with our bodies.”

You grimaced. “I’m not sure—”

“Oh, you can’t kick me out,” he said – ordered, really – as he patted the bed next to him waiting for you to sit. You did. He continued, “we’ve got so many things we still need to do. All of those movies we haven’t gotten to watch because we keep doing something else when we’re together,” pausing for a moment, Jungkook snickered, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing something else again—did you just laugh at me?”

You bit your tongue, trying to conceal your smile, but the playful mood Jungkook was in amused you too much.

“I just exhaled,” you replied, returning your attention to your phone as you pressed send. “Now, what were you saying about—”

“Who was that?” he asked with a nod at your phone now that you’d finished typing.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, not because you hadn’t heard him, but because something about the way your heart skipped a beat at his question told you that he wasn’t going to like your answer, and you needed to win some time to find a way to soften the blow. “Just Namjoon. He was worried about you.”

Jungkook scoffed but, thankfully, didn’t immediately throw a tantrum.

“Doubt that,” he said instead, with dripping skepticism. “We don’t know each other, why would he care—”

“You went off-the-grid last night,” you said, aware that the patient voice you tried to demonstrate may have come off as accusing. That wasn’t your intention but, now that the conversation came up, you thought it was fair he knew that his actions affected more people than just you and him. “It doesn’t matter if he knows you or not. You could have been dead in a ditch.”

“Is that what Yoongi suggested?” Jungkook inquired in a disgruntled tone.

“No,” you said even though it sort of was. “But we were all concerned for you. Namjoon included.”

He rolled his eyes – partially because he didn’t like to be reminded of the hassle he’d caused last night, but also because he had a hard time believing that people who didn’t know him were genuinely worried about his safety, when his own friends, aside from his bandmates, couldn’t have cared less.

“I know you want to see the best in people, but—”

“I’m not seeing the best in him,” you disagreed, “in fact, we got into an argument at the barbecue yesterday and I realized that there’s more to him than I’d previously thought. But when I told him about you, he was really concerned. He’s the one who drove me back to campus to look for you.”

Digesting this new information for a moment, Jungkook swallowed.

Then, when you thought you were going to have to explain your decision to accept Namjoon’s offer to drive you home, Jungkook dismissed the whole thing.

“So,” he said, “Namjoon isn’t who you thought he was, then?”

“He—that’s not what I meant,” you replied, surprised by the direction the conversation had taken, but suspicious when you saw Jungkook smile victoriously.

“No, I’m curious,” he encouraged, sitting up and scooting closer to you – so close, in fact, that you could see the glistening drops of water that he hadn’t wiped off from his chest, “has he let you down? Are you thinking you shouldn’t be friends anymore?”

Before you could be any more distracted – if not by his words, then by his glimmering skin or by his sneaky, yet lovable, smile – you cleared your throat and looked away.

“You need to call Yoongi,” you said, standing your ground, “or else you’ll be the one who won’t have any friends.”

“Eh, knowing me, that’s inevitable,” he waved a hand, dismissing the thought. “I just want to have you.”

Little needle stabs poked at your stomach after he said this. You blinked, preparing to answer, only to realize that his quick wit had momentarily rendered you completely speechless. Jungkook used that to his advantage.

“I’m thinking breakfast,” he said, changing the topic so quickly, it was like he had the attention span of a squirrel. “Do you have any food here?”

Deeply impressed with his determination to slither out of this situation unharmed – because Yoongi sure was going to rip him a new one – you stuttered, “n-no, wait. I mean, we have milk and—”

“That’s what I thought,” he replied, nodding to himself. Then, he stood up from the bed and ordered, “get dressed. We’re going grocery shopping.”

“Grocery—is that necessary?” you crossed your arms, watching Jungkook pace the room and, most likely, regret his decision to spray his own T-shirt with water because he did not have anything else to wear. “I always have cereal for breakfast.”

“It’s not just cereal we need to think of,” he pointed out, choosing to just settle for that T-shirt. It was supposed to be warm outside anyway. “We have to stock up on food so we wouldn’t have to leave this room for the rest of the day.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You were serious about that?”

“I’m serious about everything,” he retorted and then, untying the towel on his waist in order to put his jeans on, he nodded at you and urged, “come on.”

Not moving one bit, you declared, “call Yoongi first.”

“I’ll call him later.”

“Call him now,” you insisted. “He’s been worried sick since last night.”

“He’s probably still hungover, I’ll call him later—”

“Jungkook,” you said, your voice firm. You didn’t want to enter another conflict with him but, now that you two were obviously going to be spending a lot of time together, it was important for you both that Jungkook actually took responsibility for the things that he did. “He didn’t sound drunk at all when he called me last night. Call him.”

As stubborn as he’d ever been, Jungkook shrugged – and then nearly toppled over as he lost his balance while pulling his jeans up his legs – and said very casually, “then maybe he was high and you couldn’t tell over the phone.”

You could have laughed at this.

“Oh, no, trust me. I’ve talked to a high Yoongi once before,” you said. “I can tell.”

He had several other arguments up his sleeve – excuses were his specialty – but you looked determined to shoot down every single one of them and, at the end of the day, Jungkook didn’t want to spend the rest of the day arguing with you about this.

“Fine,” he gave in. “Give me five minutes and a soundproof room.”

You knew this wasn’t a compromise – Jungkook didn’t look like he’d changed his mind and suddenly understood that he had to do this; he looked like he was only doing this as a favor to you – but it was still something, so you crawled down the bed towards where he’d left his phone last night, and handed it to him.

“He’s not going to yell—okay, he probably is,” you admitted, “but you deserve it. Go talk to him in the hall, though. I’ll get dressed.”

This intrigued Jungkook and he took one last chance to stall, “ooh, can I watch?”

“No,” you answered and got off the bed, watching him buckle his belt. “You focus on your redemption.”

“My redemption,” he repeated, mocking the pretentious word and still refusing to move.

Ignoring that, you pushed him out of your dorm and into the hallway and, waiting for a second to make sure he really was dialing Yoongi’s phone number – “I’m doing it, alright? But if you’d rather I helped you get dressed—” – you shut the door and returned to your room to find some clothes.

When Jungkook returned several minutes later, he looked more solemn than when he’d left, but the glint in his eyes wasn’t too far gone.

“Did he give it to you good?” you asked, as you rolled up the sleeves of your cardigan.

“Actually, I think he was holding himself back a little,” Jungkook replied, scratching his right ear to indicate just how much yelling he’d had to endure out in the hall. Then, inhaling and seemingly dropping everything he’d just heard, he asked, “so, you ready to go? I was thinking it’d be nice to have some eggs.”

You spent the rest of Saturday in your dorm room, being about as unproductive as it was possible for two people to be. You got through two movies (you’d tried to watch five; Jungkook had no patience to sit through the rest) and finished a full bag of popcorn (you’d opened three; the rest of it ended up on the floor of your room as you played a very unsuccessful game of throw-and-catch and then, consequently, throw-and-try-to-hit).

You lost count of how many tears of laughter you’d shed. Or how many times you’d punched his shoulder. Or how many times he cut you off with a kiss when you gave more attention to the movie than to him.

“You’re like a retriever,” you told Jungkook that night, when the two of you were laying on your backs, side-to-side, your hands and hearts intertwined. “You’re hyper-active, unpredictable, and you need constant attention.”

“Also self-absorbed, arrogant, and inconsiderate,” he added, mentioning all the colorful adjectives you’d called him over the course of this one day.

You exhaled in a half-snort, trying to pull your hand out of his, but failing when he refused to let go, pulling on your hand until you turned to your side to face him instead.

“Is there anything good about me?” he asked you.

You squinted. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

Jungkook smiled, shaking his head. “No. I’m just asking. Because if there’s not, then why do you put up with me?”

“Because you’re trying,” you offered, “because you never give up. You work hard, you’re dedicated and determined. You’ve always got your eyes on the prize—”

He cut you off, “that sounds like the opposite of all the negative things you’d said about me.”

You didn’t see the problem there and you shrugged your shoulders.

“There are two sides to every coin,” you said, unsure if he expected you to shower him in compliments at all times, regardless if he deserved them or not. Actually, knowing Jungkook, that was probably precisely what he expected.

“You didn’t call me funny,” he pointed out then.

“Because you’re not,” you dead-panned.

Jungkook scoffed and looked away from you, declaring with great dignity, “I happen to think I have a great sense of humor.”

“You happen to think a lot,” you mumbled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You snickered. “Here’s another one – you can always turn a negative situation into something better.”

Jungkook lowered his eyes to your intertwined hands, the smile on his face growing fainter, even if the atmosphere in the room remained as laid-back as before.

“Not always,” he said in a hushed tone, not daring to pose the risk of ruining the good-natured banter.

Even though he was careful, it was still obvious that you’ve hit a sensitive spot. Not having any intention to do so, you’ve brought back the fact that, in all twenty-three years of his life, Jungkook hadn’t managed to turn the negative opinion of his father into something better.

“But you always try,” you said, less confident now that you saw how easy it was to trigger something that was too big to fix with just a compliment.

“That’s not enough sometimes,” he said, purposefully avoiding sad undertones and, this way, making himself sound even sadder.

“And other times,” you argued, just as persistent as he was, “it’s more than enough. Stop painting everything in black and white, you always do that.”

Noticing that this was turning into a fight that neither of you would win, Jungkook looked at you with a half-smile on his face. “I thought I always turned the negative situations into positive.”

“You don’t do that when it comes to you,” you replied. “Your biggest flaw is being too hard on yourself.”

In the time that he’s been a member of Parental Advisory – and even before, when he was just an heir of a multi-millionaire – Jungkook had had nearly every single one of his flaws pointed out: none of them were new, he was already aware of them all.

He worked on some of them – the ones that he thought would genuinely help him improve: practicing new singing techniques, making sure his band was his first priority, learning how to communicate with his audiences and how to write lyrics that held more impact.

He’d never had anyone tell him that he tried too hard. And he’d never realized that that was true this quickly, either.

Jungkook didn’t consider himself to be someone who wanted to accommodate others. He never followed the societal standards if they contrasted with his wishes. He didn’t care about what other people thought of him; as it turned out, he worried about his own perception of himself instead.

“Maybe it helps me improve,” he said, not feeling like he deserved the credit for this particular flaw when he hadn’t succeeded in changing himself for the better yet.

“Maybe,” you agreed, giving his hand a supportive squeeze. “But give yourself a break sometimes. You’re really not all bad.”

“I needed you.”

You were teasing him and expected him to bite back in an equal way, but the serious tone of his voice took you by surprise. “What?”

“I needed you,” he repeated, “to be able to turn the negative into positive. You’re my better half.”

Despite the beating of your heart and the warmth that spread to your face and forced you to smile, you still shook your head.

“I’m not,” you said, meaning it, “you’re a full person. Not just a half.”

You thought he’d let go of you so he could protest and insist that he was right, but he did no such thing. Instead, he held you tighter and, for a moment or two, being pressed so tightly against each other really did make you feel as though you were two individual parts of the same set – good on your own, but great when paired together.

Jungkook didn’t let go of you the whole Saturday night or the next morning, or the afternoon. That made your normal, everyday functions very complicated – like brushing your teeth, when he was hugging you from behind and purposefully snoozing with his head on your shoulder – but you’d have been out of your mind to complain.

When you arrived to his parents’ house for your Sunday night dinner, Jungkook still had one arm around your waist, as if touching you came naturally to him and he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

As soon as his mother opened the door for you two, she could tell that there was something different about you – maybe it was the fresh glow of having spent the whole weekend locked up together, or maybe she could read your minds – but the wide smiles on your faces were too beautiful of a sight for her to question it.

“Come in,” she encouraged, “it’s lovely to see you, like always.”

“Ah, you’re here already!” Jungkook’s father climbed down the stairs just as you two passed the threshold into the house. Feeling the way Jungkook tensed – his usual reaction – you tried to make up for it by smiling widely.

“Hello,” you said, suddenly feeling ridiculous to be grinning like this for no reason.

“Son,” his father said, acknowledging Jungkook’s presence with a nod and earning one from him in return. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

You didn’t realize his question was directed at you so, for a moment, the four of you lingered awkwardly in the hallway while you waited for Jungkook to answer before you realized that, for one, Jungkook’s father had never called his son “dear”, and, furthermore, it was you who had supposedly gotten sick in the middle of the company barbecue this Friday.

“Oh!” you blinked, trying to remember if Namjoon mentioned what sort of illness he was going to give as your excuse. “Yes, thank you. I’ve gotten some rest and I-I’m much better now.”

“That’s good!” Jungkook’s mother said. Nor her, nor her husband seemed suspicious even though Jungkook inhaled sharply, attracting their attention. “We were very worried when you left early – if you’d stayed just a second longer, we could have driven you home ourselves, we were going to go back anyway.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” you replied, aware that Jungkook didn’t know about this part of your Friday night – he hadn’t asked if you’d left the barbecue early – and, evidently, learning of this right here, right now, didn’t exactly please him. “My friend from university was there and he was kind enough to offer me a ride back to campus.”

Jungkook’s father cleared his throat – an involuntary reaction, similar to that of his son’s before – and gave you a kind, almost apologetic look, “if Jungkook had gone with you, he could have been the one who drove you home.”

That offended you as much as it offended Jungkook – but for different reasons. Jungkook’s dignity was obviously hurt because he had, once again, let his father down. But you were displeased because his father made it sound as though you needed a chaperone. As though you were some damsel in distress.

“No, really, I’m glad he didn’t go. I wouldn’t have wanted him to leave early,” you ended up saying, your polite nature persevering. You could understand Namjoon a lot more now – it was easy to let your real feelings slip if you weren’t paying attention to what you were saying, but hiding them under a mask of good manners and respect, was far more beneficial in the long run. “And, actually, it was even better that he was back on campus, because he helped me out a lot this weekend. Really, I probably wouldn’t have recovered as quickly as I did if it weren’t for him.”

You weren’t just saying that to make Jungkook look better – but there was still gratitude in his eyes when you met his gaze – because he had truly turned your weekend into a time of healing just by spending it with you.

“That’s wonderful,” Jungkook’s mother was the one who responded – Jungkook’s father just smiled mysteriously – as she brought a hand through her son’s hair in adoration, “let’s head to the dining room now, alright? The food is getting cold. You can tell me how your semester’s going. I assume you’ve got finals coming up soon, isn’t that right?”

That was right – well, sort of; you still had about a month of classes left – and it prompted you to start a conversation about school, which allowed Jungkook to casually bring up the fact that he’d knocked his professors off their feet by passing all the tests that they had predicted he would fail. His father, of course, did not express his surprise or say anything encouraging, but he gave a very impressed nod and that was more than enough.

The dinner only seemed to last a few minutes – it flew by like it always did – and you found yourself in your already usual position: offering Jungkook’s mother to clean up, while she forbade you from doing anything and insisted you stayed back and relaxed.

Relaxing was what you and Jungkook had done here last Sunday – before his mother knocked on the door of his bedroom and interrupted you two – so, not very excited to have history repeat itself, you didn’t mind when Jungkook made an excuse to leave early today.

His mother seemed sad to hear that – dessert was just as important part of dinner as the actual main course – but she didn’t push you to stay. Maybe because she could see the look in Jungkook’s eyes and she knew him well enough to understand that, although he had a sweet tooth, her son would have gladly rejected dessert just to get to spend more time alone with you.

However, alone time wasn’t the reason why Jungkook wanted to leave early – you learned that as soon as you sat down in his car and saw his hand lingering by the ignition, not ready to put the key in just yet.

“You okay?” you asked tentatively, already trying to analyze the dinner in your mind, hoping to come across a moment that could have stuck with him.

“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said finally, “that you had to leave early. I’d assumed the barbecue ended and that was why you got back to the dorm.”

You lowered your eyes, realizing that your failed attempt to get to the bottom of things on Friday night – it was generous to even call it an attempt, considering that you were ripping each other’s clothes off within twenty minutes of seeing each other – had now caught up to you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I got Yoongi’s call in the middle of dinner, and told him I’d go back to campus to look for you. He told me you went missing, I wasn’t going to sit around eating grilled sausages and wait for you to turn up.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jungkook was trying to talk to you about – he’d already put the pieces together – and, taking a moment to admit to himself that he did feel guilty about this, he exhaled before speaking again.

“You could have told my dad the truth,” he said. “Or you could have left without bothering with an excuse, he would have probably assumed it was my fault, anyway.”

“I’m not stupid,” you replied, “you’re trying to make progress with your father. You may not be doing very well, but why would I halt your process? I’m on your side, remember?”

He nodded. “I remember. I’m just saying, y-you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to stand up for me tonight, either.”

“Technically, I did,” you replied, smiling now. “We started to go to these Sunday night dinners for a reason.”

For a good minute, Jungkook really struggled to follow your train of thought. Even though it couldn’t have been more than a month, these dinners with you had already become a part of his routine, so the fact that you were, theoretically, only here to prove Jungkook’s maturity to his father, seemed very obsolete now.

“Well,” Jungkook said, considering your new situation. Chuckling lightly, he added, “that’s stupid now, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Pretending to be dating when we actually are.”

Catching the perfect opening, you teased, “we are?”

He gave you a look that dared you to test him.

“We haven’t been on one date,” you defended – sensibly so, really.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, wanting to point out the flaws in your words, but having a hard time finding any, because, in the normal sense of the word, you hadn’t actually gone on any dates with him.

“We went to my party last weekend,” he still tried, figuring that the term ‘date’, when used loosely, could really mean just two people hanging out together.

You scrunched your nose, enjoying this game. “Was that a date?”

“We spent the whole weekend together,” he tried again.

“Was that a—?”

“You are my girlfriend,” Jungkook cut you off finally, his voice forceful and determined. “And you have no say in that matter.”

He looked you right in the eyes as he said this – boldly challenging your undeniable authority over this moment in the car – and you tried not to, but still ended up laughing.

“You’re taking away my freedom of choice,” you said.

“Are you saying,” he asked in a teary tone because his go-to maneuver in cases like this, was extracting pity, “you don’t want to be with me?”

“I’m not,” you replied, resisting him with surprising ease. You’d taken a page from his book and you were almost gloating as you watched how flustered he became with every word that you said, “I’m just wondering why you can’t ask me out like a normal person. Like someone who hadn’t known me for years.”

He observed your face for a second, making sure that you were serious – you were – and then sighed so deeply, it was like he was hoping to cleanse his dignity of whatever damage your words had done to it.

“You like me like this, don’t you?” he asked, aware that you had turned the tables on him.

“Like what?” you were still grinning. You absolutely liked him like this. “Do you think you’re too good to ask someone to be your girlfriend? Is that beneath you somehow or—”

“I love you,” he said sternly, cutting you off so quickly and successfully that your throat dried up as soon as he said this. “Please be my girlfriend.”

Biting the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from smiling at the juxtaposition of his pink cheeks and his determined eyes – while also, cringing at the cliché words that you’d forced him to say – you nodded and did not say anything else.

“What, that’s all I get?” Jungkook widened his eyes, scoffing in disbelief. “I ask you to—and you nod your head?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you replied, “I’ll think about it.”

Completely flummoxed, Jungkook examined your features without blinking or breathing. You really did have him right where you wanted him. If someone had told him that the reason why you stopped being friends once upon a time, was because he had too much influence over you, he wouldn’t have believed them.

“Enjoy this while you can,” he said a minute later, shaking his head and putting the key in ignition before finally starting the car. “You have endless weekends like this ahead of you, try to keep me on my toes.”

This didn’t put out your fire as you continued, “is that a challenge?”

“That,” he said, his voice more promising than threatening, “is a warning.”

You laughed before relenting just because you didn’t think it was fair to have his confession linger in the air like that, “I love you, too, Jungkook.”

He rolled his eyes, backing out of the street where he’d parked his car. “Oh, now you say that.”

“Better late than never,” you pointed out in a laid-back tone.

“Better all the time than late,” he retorted.

“You’re needy,” you said.

Jungkook didn’t skip a beat as he drove down the street back towards your campus, and still found enough time to glance at you, “you’re uncooperative.”

“You’re prideful,” you shot back.

“You’re controlling.”

“You’re reckless.”

“I love you,” he challenged.

“I love you more,” you fought back.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow at this. “Don’t go there. I like to win and I am not above proving to you how much I love you the whole night tonight.”

A simmering fire in your stomach suddenly erupted into a bright flame.

“I have an early class tomorrow morning,” you said, more of a reminder to yourself than to him. “We both do, actually.”

He merely scoffed. “You think that would stop me?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Just drive. Like you said, we have endless weekends like this ahead of us.”

And, even though you’d spent the bigger part of the weekend bickering and bantering, teasing and playing, both of you felt yourselves smile at the prospect of getting to do this again at the end of the next week. And then, at the end of the week that came after that. And then, the week after that. And after that.

At the end of every week, really. For as long as you wanted – be it the rest of your lives, or until the world ended.

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#bts college au #bts reactions #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook college au #college au #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #fanfic

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ac3id · 4 years ago

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bnha: tomura shigaraki x fem! reader

warnings: suggestive themes

word count. 1k+

a/n: based n this req:

i was gonna keep it short but then i went over 1k words so here it is 😽

tagging: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

navigation

“Hey.” Dabi’s rough voice cuts through the air drawing your attention to him almost immediately. He takes a seat beside you on the bar counter of the league’s dingy hideout. Another voice greets you; this time it’s cheery and girlish. You turn to your right seeing Toga take a seat beside you too. It doesn’t take a genius to know you are trapped. “The mission went well, huh?” Toga asks, eyeing your drink, there was nothing special about it other than the fact it was free. Whenever someone returned after a successful mission, Kurogiri always took it upon himself to make them a free drink in a form of praise. “Yes, it went well.” You replied avoiding eye contact with either of them. You knew what they were doing, they did this often. They liked to corner you and make you do things you didn’t like, they liked teasing you until the point tears were pricking the corner of your eyes. Their reason to torment you was always the same, they were taking a test to see how tough you really. A little different from the rest of the pack of criminals, you were a little timid and soft-hearted. Your meekness often perceived as cowardness of fear made Dabi and Toga think you were not the right fit for the group, maybe your quirk was strong but that was all the pros of having you. They’d repeatedly remind you but you knew better, they bullied you just because. The degenerates were no better than highschool bullies, maybe even worse.

“Good to see you are actually making yourself useful,” Dabi remarks abruptly making you shrink in your seat. You want retort but you have to say, he’s right. The majority of your mission ended badly, you were a new villain with no experience, it was not all your fault. “Oh, forget that!” Toga chirped, pulling you by your shoulder, forcing you to face her. “Do you know Shigaraki Tomura?” she asks. You look at her dumbfounded, not believing her question. “You know, the leader? With hands all over his body? Handsy freak?” Dabi encourages making you scoff. Were they seriously serious? Did they just ask you whether or not you knew your own leader, your employer? Of course, you did!

“Really!? I have never seen you talk to him, you always seemed to avoid him. So, I thought you didn’t know who he was,” she pouts explaining herself, “Are you scared of him or something?” Scared? Of Tomura Shigaraki? Of course, you were. You were terrified of everyone in the league but Tomura stood out the most. With his rude and cold demeanor, he intimidates you. The cold, pale hand which sticks to his face at all times adds to his eerie appearance, his vermillion eyes glowing from underneath it, sending death glares to everyone. A glance towards his direction is enough to tell you he's someone you don't want anything to do with. His quirk, his personality all adds to it. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to anyway, your shyness and fear of rejection would never let you open up to anyone else other than your friends. You don’t answer Dabi’s question, “I will take that as a yes,” he smirks cruelly. You try to retort but before you can say anything, he changes the topic.

“Tell me,” He calls out your name grimly, “are you a pussy?” What? “I don’t understand,” you ask nervously. The perplexed expression which scans your face makes Dabi cringe, he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth before speaking, “It’s a simple question. Are you a pussy? Or you got balls?” You are still confused but get the basic idea, they were here to bother again. You have a bad feeling about this. You know what you should do; give him a reaction he does not want so he can leave alone and stop bothering you but you also know your pride won’t surrender that easily. There is no way you would ever admit to him that you are a weak, pathetic coward. So naturally, you make the wrong decision. “No I am not a pussy,” the word almost feels wrong when you say it out loud. It's not as degrading as when Dabi had said it, the need to drag it down the dirt and toss it back up is missing when you say it and Toga notices as she snickers. Dabi quickly catching on sends you a devious smirk, “Atta, girl!” he pats your head jokingly, you push his hand away annoyed. They liked sending you praises as one would to a kid, you found it revolting but they enjoyed tormenting you. “We have an important job for you,” toga begins, flashing her taunting canines at you making you shudder. Oh, this was up to no good.

“So here’s the thing,” Dabi begins, “Boss has been kinda’ very annoying recently, if you talked to him you’d understand,” eyebrow twitching at the comment you wonder whether it was necessary. “And it gets hard to work with him so would you mind helping out, ya’ know what I am saying?” You look at him still confused while he just gives you an oblivious look, what was he on about?

“Helping out?” you quote, curiosity ridden in your eyes. Toga snickers before leaning in towards you, her breath fawns over your ear as she whispers a dirty, little secret. “You know, get him all hot and bothered. Help your leader out here,” you almost choke at her words. There was no way in hell you would ever do that! You never even want to stand closer than three feet from your boss, what Toga is asking for is downright atrocious. You push her away from you, creating a safe distance. You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment before you start speaking, “There is NO way I am going anywhere near that man!” you exclaim confidently. Dabi looks disappointed but he’s not given up yet while Toga pouts, “What!? Why not?” she asks and without giving you a chance to speak she continues, “I always catch you staring at him! Do you not like him? I thought you did, so we asked you,” her tone is apologetic but she is not wrong. Often you would find yourself zoning out and staring at your leader. Shigaraki always attracted your eyes. He was like a mystery, there was no wonder you wanted to know more about him. About how he thinks, lives you want to know so much more. Your curiosity about it unfortunately gets pulled out by your fear of him, you can’t imagine staying in the same room as him. Too conscious about his judgemental eyes ghosting your figure and searching for flaws which would make him want to leave you.

“I don’t like him, though.” You finish. At this point, you believe that you have beaten Toga and Dabi at their own game as you watch their faces fall. You feel pride enveloping you for the second time that day knowing that you had the crazy duo speechless. “Okay then,” Dabi still has to say. He throws a devious smirk, “It’s a dare. I dare you to seduce Tomura Shigaraki.”

You are speechless. “C’mon, you’re not a chicken are you? You do this and I’ll do a dare you give me,” was he really ‘daring’ you to seduce the most dangerous man you have ever met for fun? “I- How would I even do that?” You ask. Your experience in the field of ‘seduction’ was absolutely zero. You couldn’t just walk up to someone and ask them to sleep with you. They have to be mocking you, right? This was a joke- a silly little prank, right? “Aw, c’mon! You don’t even have to go all the way, just kiss him maybe a hand job or something then leave! Shouldn’t be that much of a problem.” Toga spoke sending you puppy dog eyes making you cringe, “You are not going to do it?” Dabi ponders his brow raised, his eyes wait patiently for your answer. You think for a moment if you say no to them; you know for a fact a nasty rumor about you will go around no doubt ruining your reputation and if you say yes..well, you get to kiss your boss and as Dabi promised: you could ‘dare’ him to do anything. Maybe you will make him dance around naked.

“Fine, I will go..” The way their faces light up sends a cold shiver down your spine and your gut kicks in telling you it's a bad idea, but you cannot take your word back now. You reluctantly head into the dark hallway to your leader’s room where he had been locked in since the morning. Probably playing games or making plans for the league, you couldn’t care less. You knock on his door, fidgeting with your fingers while you wait for him to open the door, you didn’t want to barge straight in. It would be very disrespectful to your leader and you’d die before you know it. “He is not going to open the fucking door! Just go in.” You hear Dabi’s faint voice, guess they have been counting your steps. You hesitate a moment before reaching out to the doorknob, you twist it and it unlocks. A nervous sigh leaves your lips as you push the door ajar, stepping into the room and closing it behind you gently, trying your best to not make noise. You find Shigaraki adhered to his devices, his focus is completely planted on the game he plays. The bright screen deceiving shots of violence while he grunts and curses into his earphones. You stand there, next to the door, taking in his entire and it’s a mess. The lights are out, the only source coming from the iridescent screen of Shigaraki’s gameplay. There’s trash everywhere, his bed hasn’t been made. The covers and blanket almost fall off his bed, there are a desk and chair in the room which hasn’t been organized either.

Damn, he really be living like this.

You wait for Shigaraki to notice and you presume he won’t be noticing you until you let him know you are there but you are proved wrong as he glances in your direction, the most astonished expressions falling on his face. Shigaraki sits without father covering his face so you can see his features. Little scars are running everywhere, two significantly larger ones stretching across his left eye and lips. He scans your body head to toe as you shirk back under his heated gaze, “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks and honestly you wonder the same. You don’t answer his question but move forward towards him changing the subject entirely, “Mr. Shigaraki, there’s something I need to tell you…” You stand right in front of him, your knee touching his as he is seated down on his gaming chair holding his control with his pinkies lifted. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you stare down at him with glassy eyes, your heartbeat picks up with him looking back at you with those murderous, red orbs confusion still written all over. You can get that he has picked up the slightest idea about your here as his cheeks pinken the closer you move to him. Your hand slides up his tight slowly, settling close to his crotch making him grunt. You lean down until your face level with his, “Shigaraki…” you utter softly before connecting your lips with his. The action catches him off guard as his pinkies fall on the controller turning it into dust within seconds, but he lets himself get lost in the feeling of your lips squished against him. Honestly, he has no idea what’s gotten into you but he is so glad he’s getting to experience this. Your lips are soft, and warm against his cold and chapped ones. The comfort he feels when your lips mold against him sends him into heaven, it’s a feeling he could use too, a feeling he wants to keep to himself. As you keep him hungrily, he takes the pleasure of running his hands over your body. With his pinkies raised his hands map across your curves, ass, and end upon groping your tits making you gasp into the kiss. Shigaraki takes this as his chance and nips at your lips, drawing a pained moan from you before pushing his tongue into your mouth. You let out choked gasps as his tongue licks away into your mouth greedily, you try to put up a fight but it’s no use. Your leader is much rougher, he kisses you like it's the end of the world. He is almost feral at the way he used your mouth leaving you no place to strength making you submit to him. When he pulls away from the kiss to regain his breath, he wastes no time in throwing you on his dirty bed and climbing over you. You look up at him, his cheeks flushed, eyes dark and clouded with lust, you remind yourself to thank Dabi and Toga later.

#shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader smut #shigaraki x y/n #mha shigaraki #shigaraki fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero acdemia x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha yandere #bnha manga #smut writing

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

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Hot Mess

Prompt: Hi, so I really flippin love your writing style and I was wondering if you could write a fic of the sides just flirting(mainly Janus because we all know he's the best flirter) with each other, like in (Un)wanted chapter 1 where Janus was flustering Virgil really badly, that sort of thing. Could be DLAMP or DLAMPR I don't mind. You don't have too I was just wondering... Thanks either way!

First off, thank you so much for the prompt! Second...

Listen. Everything is awful and I don’t understand how flirting works. Ever. Actually, you know what, no. No one understands what flirting is. There have been so many fucking tests run and no one can ever tell who is flirting ever. It’s bullshit. Everything is bullshit and I’ve never understood a damn thing in my entire life and I’m sure as hell not about to start now. So.

That being said, here.

Read on Ao3

Pairings: yes. LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR.

Warnings: sympathetic janus & remus

Word Count: 5884

If you ask anyone whose fault is it that everyone, for some reason, starting flirting with each other, they’ll blame Janus. Even Janus. He knows what he did. It’s his fault.

Anyway, there are a few things that are a given. Everyone flirts with everyone, with the one exception of Roman and Remus. They’re brothers. It doesn’t work. Anything else is fair game. Are they being serious? Who knows. Probably. Maybe. Keeping anything straight around the Mindscape is complicated enough, for obvious reasons.

Doesn’t mean there can’t be some level of trying to keep track of what’s bound to happen at some point.

Patton’s flirting is both the least obvious and the most obvious. It’s super cheesy pick up lines delivered completely genuinely and the sweetest pet-names ever. But the problem is that’s not too different from how he normally is. For some reason, the Dad Coaxing Tone™ is the worst and he knows it. He doesn’t flirt nearly as often as some of the others do and he’s surprisingly sweet about it. It normally just makes them kind of giggly and slightly redder than normal. Always comes with hugs, which is never something to complain about. Cheeky comments and cheeky smiles that leave them second-guessing everything that just happened. And, of course, by the time they’re just about finished wrapping their heads around what just happened, he’s back with another line and here they go again.

Roman.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

They should have expected this because his job is romance but fucking hell.

His way of showing love is through poking fun at things so…all the teasing. All of it. Not just verbal teasing, even though that in itself is enough to make everyone melt into puddles, but he gets close. Like, sneak-up-and-hug-you-from-behind kind of close. Or he’ll just stand really close with a smirk as he teases them, waiting for them to give in and run into his arms. Or he’ll crowd them against the wall. Or the counter. Someone probably dared him to do this—or not, because, again, it’s Roman—but he definitely pinned Logan to the wall and didn’t let up until his grip on Logan’s wrists were the only thing keeping him standing. Also, super gushy pet-names. Like, super gushy. Like Patton, very fond of telling them how cute they are, including asking them why they’re hiding such a cute face, come on, he wants to see how adorable they are. With Janus and Logan, he makes his voice lower, taking advantage of how close that lets him get. Dramatic monologues or sneaking up and dipping them are a must. He goes full Disney Prince and doesn’t let up until they can’t even ramble anymore, smiling down at their bright red cheeks. With the others, he makes his voice very sweet, soft, and gentle. He gets right in their faces so they can’t go anywhere and riles them up until they’re a melted squirmy mess. It’s not uncommon to find someone—normally Patton or Virgil— an absolute puddle with Roman beaming, just twisting them round and round his finger. Merciless and shameless flirt. Roman is the actual worst and they all love him.

Virgil is affectionately known as The Meme Flirter. No prizes for guessing who came up with that. He picks one nickname for each of them and just peppers it into conversation with a wink and a smirk. The master of timing. He doesn’t need to spend ages winding them up, he just picks the right moment and they’re covering their faces and squirming. Also uses the technique of being close but not close enough to touch. Sometimes he’ll team up with Roman or Logan and just be there all ‘you know he’s right’ when they look to him for help, or engage in conversation with whoever else is flirting about how red they’re getting, or how much they’re squirming. Or he’ll engage in flirt competitions. He’s way more confident about it than they ever anticipate and it always catches them off guard. He keeps an eye on them though, because he knows the others (especially Roman) can get carried away. “You don’t wanna break ‘em, do you?”

(They do sometimes but shh.)

For Logan, infodumping is the actual best way of expressing affection and you will not convince him otherwise. He’ll research topics so they can talk about them together if they want but if you think that is it then boy howdy you are wrong. This guy keeps notebooks on the best way to fluster each and every one of the Sides, okay. He knows his shit. He infodumps about them too, phrasing compliments as provable facts. Will pretend to be confused about why they’re getting so flustered, he’s just telling them the truth, why are you so red? It would be convincing if he weren’t purposefully making his voice as low as it can go and smirking. Also a teasy bastard. He will just ask them to do things he knows they can’t help doing when they get flustered, especially with Patton or Janus. He’s asked Janus to squee for him more often than he would like. (Liar.) Or they’ll be protesting and telling them to knock it off and he’ll just point out that ‘no one is holding you. Nor are we blocking any exits. By all means, if you wish to leave, then you may.’ Knowing perfectly well they’re puddles and puddles can’t move. But then ‘oh, you must not want to leave.’ ‘Accidental’ touches make it worse, as well as nonchalantly adding in pet-names. He’s the one who figured out that pet-names make them melt, by the way. Also figured out that firmer touches help ground them, so he offers them a deal sometimes. If they like, they can come and cuddle with him while he flirts. It gives them an excuse to cuddle and a place to hide, but that does mean he’s murmuring right into their ears. It’s a double-edged sword. When he teams up with Roman they are the worst, especially when they agree that it’s necessary to reestablish emotional stability. Or they’re bored, snickering when poor Virgil bolts out of the room from too much blush. Virgil will run away if it gets to be too much, he’s got that built into his whole deal as anxiety, but Janus…forget about it. That team-up definitely has overwhelmed the poor thing multiple times. You can’t freeze with these predators, they’ll eat you alive. They definitely teased and flirted with him until he burst into tears one time, it was…an experience.

“Enough!”

Roman pauses, midway through some dramatic gesture, faltering at the crack in Janus’s voice. Logan glances at him before looking back at Janus, his hands still pressed hard to his face, his shoulders tense. He takes a small step forward and tilts his head.

“Janus?”

He calls his name softly until he lowers his hands, unable to stop the comforting noise when he sees the tears on his cheeks. Beside him, Roman inhales sharply, only to make a noise of protest when he immediately covers his face again.

“Janus,” he says, dropping the flirty persona immediately, “may I touch you?”

Please say yes, please.

He nods. Logan reaches out, gently covering his hands to coax them away, clutching them tightly.

“Too much?” Janus nods. “My apologies, it was not my intention to overwhelm you.”

“Nor mine, little snake,” Roman says quietly.

“I know.”

“Would you like us to stay,” Logan asks gently, giving his hands a squeeze, “or leave you alone?”

Janus shuffles, his mouth drawing tight and his hands tensing. Logan is content to wait patiently for him to make up his mind, but Roman seems to have other ideas.

“Oh dear,” he murmurs, stepping a little closer, “we really overdid it this time, didn’t we, darling?”

“I said enough,” Janus mumbles.

“I know, I know, I’m done,” he assures, reaching out to tenderly wipe his cheek, “I promise. Oh, oh you poor thing…”

“Roman,” Logan chides gently, “I don’t think…”

He trails off when Janus frees one of his hands, tentatively reaching out for Roman. Roman swoops in, gathering him into a hug so tight his fingers whiten from his grip on him. As Logan watches, Roman tilts his head slightly, beginning to pepper kisses along the side of his face.

“I don’t understand,” he says quietly, “how…how is this not more overwhelming?”

“I think you’re going to have to wait to ask him that, Specs,” Roman murmurs, “because I don’t know that either.”

“Then how did you know it would work?”

Roman looks up at him, sadness coloring his gaze. “Because a different face told me it would.”

Ah.

“I’m right here,” Roman says softly, rocking Janus in his arms, “I’m right here, little snake. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Janus all but slumps into Roman’s embrace, his head tucking neatly against his shoulder as he presses more kisses to his face.

“I have you, alright? I’m not going to hurt you, you know I’m not.” Roman adjusts his grip. “It’s just like we always do, hmm? I rile you up and then you come here and I cuddle you right back down.”

He pulls back to gently catch another tear with his thumb. “Just pushed a bit too far this time, hmm?”

I rile you up and cuddle you back down.

Like we always do.

I’m not going to hurt you, you know I’m not.

“I understand,” Logan breathes, “I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

“What’s happening.” Logan steps forward, gently resting his hands on the part of Janus’s back not covered by Roman’s arms. “And how I can help.”

“By all means then,” Roman says, “tell us.”

“Janus is…not accustomed to receiving compliments,” Logan begins, lightly hushing Janus’s noise of protest.

“It’s true, little snake,” Roman says.

“Yes, and we will work on that,” Logan promises, “but that does make it easy to blindside or disarm him with comments of that nature. Hence…”

He motions between the three of them.

“You’re not used to experiencing affection like this,” he continues softly, “and especially not through flirting or playful teasing, which is why it doesn’t take much effort on our parts to fluster you.”

Janus makes another noise of protest and he shushes him gently.

“I’m not trying to tease, Janus, I promise,” he murmurs, “but it doesn’t, does it? It makes you uncomfortable because you don’t understand it, not really, so you don’t know what to expect next. We have not exactly been…forthcoming with affection in the past, have we?”

Janus nods hesitantly.

“This, however,” Logan continues, leaning a little more of his weight onto his hands, “is a form of affection you understand very well.”

He steps a little closer, rubbing firm circles into Janus’s back.

“You are a very heat-sensitive person,” he says, “and you understand how to give and receive affection in this language, so to speak. When one of us touches you while we are teasing or flirting with you, it heightens the loss of control you feel because it’s something that should be familiar, but it’s being used in an unfamiliar way.”

“But when it’s like this,” Logan continues, leaning closer, “it’s calming. Grounding. Especially after you’ve just been in a state of higher stress. You know what we mean by it.”

“When I put my hand on your shoulder or your back,” he murmurs, shifting his weight further onto his hands, “you know it means I’m here, right here, and I’m not going anywhere. When Roman kisses you—“ Logan smiles when Roman uses that as an excuse to press another kiss to Janus’s forehead— “you know it means he cares about you, that he won’t let anything hurt you.”

“Look at our resident genius over here,” Roman says, leaning over to peck Logan’s cheek too, smirking when it brings a flush to his face, “aww, Logan, feeling left out?”

“No,” Logan replies stiffly, ignoring the growing smirk on Roman’s face, “and even if I were, we have more pressing matters to deal with.”

“No, no,” Janus mumbles, “I’m good now, I can leave, it can be Logan’s turn.”

Roman raises his eyebrows. ‘Are you gonna let that go?’

Logan will most certainly not.

“I can assure you,” he rumbles into Janus’s ear, “I am perfectly satisfied with our roles as they currently stand.”

Roman chuckles when Janus squirms in his grip.

“After all,” Logan continues, “we have just established that this can be quite the cathartic experience for you, it wouldn’t do at all to interrupt it before it is complete.”

“Did you just…create a scientific excuse to do this in the name of maintaining emotional stability?”

Logan smirks. “Perhaps.”

“You know better than to try and argue with Logan about science,” Roman adds.

Janus swats at them half-heartedly but doesn’t protest when Roman lets him go a few moments later, pressing one last kiss to his forehead and leaving. Logan taps him gently on the shoulder.

“Am I correct, Janus?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, a little red still on his cheeks, “you’re right.”

“Good.” Logan reaches out and slides the tissue box closer. “And…thank you.”

He looks up, confused. “For what?”

Logan smiles. “For telling us it was too much, and for letting us help.”

That’s the first time Logan’s able to determine exactly how best to help one of them calm down, especially after one of them is incredibly flustered. The first time he implements it is under…slightly different circumstances.

He’s not quite sure how Virgil and Roman talked him into playing Truth Or Dare, but here he is, on the couch, Roman sprawled across the floor, Virgil perched on the back. So far he’s had to cover his ears from Roman belting the third Disney medley in an hour and he has several questions for Remus about where his good clipboard is. Then it’s Virgil’s turn again and he picks dare.

“Are you sure, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance?” Roman asks.

“Just hit me with it, Princey.”

Roman taps his fingers against his chin, glancing around. His eyes land on a spot over Logan’s shoulder and he grins. Logan follows his gaze and sees Janus in the kitchen.

“I dare you,” Roman announced, “to flirt with Patton for two minutes.”

Virgil snorts. “That’s it?”

Roman just sweeps his arm dramatically. “Your dare awaits.”

Virgil shrugs, getting up off the couch and making his way to the kitchen. The instant he’s almost there, Roman scrambles up, jumping onto the couch next to Logan, almost landing on top of him, hooking his chin over the back.

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Comfortable?”

“Shush, Pocket Protector,” Roman says, flapping a hand, “and get your timer out.”

Logan rolls his eyes, checking his watch and watching Virgil lean on the counter, propping his chin on his hand.

“Hey there, cutie.”

Patton startles, whirling around to see Virgil. “Hey! Wow, you scared me, uh, yeah, hi there!”

“Sorry,” Virgil smiles, not sounding the least bit sorry, “can’t help it. You look like a cute little bunny when you’re startled.”

“Oh, god, not this,” Patton mutters, turning around, his face already starting to flush.

Virgil grins, his tongue between his teeth as Patton tries to go back to what he was doing. “You just make it too easy, cutie.”

“I do not!”

The grin turns feral. “Then why don’t you turn around and show me that pretty face?”

“Nope. No thank you. I’m going to stay over here.”

“Why, afraid of proving me right?”

“No.”

“Then come on, cutie,” Virgil says, tilting his head, “turn around.”

Patton leans his head back, sighing before turning around and spreading his arms. “Happy?”

“Mm.” Virgil grins. “You’ve got such pretty eyes, Patton.”

He stutters, his face already turning red. “Oh my god. Stop!”

“Can’t help it cutie,” Virgil says, waggling his eyebrows and chuckling when Patton covers his face, “I’ve been dared to do this for two minutes!”

“Good to know,” Patton squeaks, “that this is only happening because it’s mandatory.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, cutie, you know I’ll flirt with you anyway.”

“That is not what I meant!”

Virgil only laughs harder. “You might wanna pace yourself, cutie, you’ve still got…”

He trails off, looking at Logan. Logan checks his watch.

“One minute and twelve seconds.”

“One minute and twelve seconds left,” Virgil finishes, propping himself back up on the counter, “so…”

The sight is entertaining, Logan has to admit. Patton goes bright and flushed, his eyes squeezing shut, mumbling little things to himself and trying not to whine every time Virgil opens his mouth.

“Aw,” Virgil teases when he breaks and tries to bite down on his knuckle, “don’t muffle yourself, cutie.”

“Goodness, you need to stop.”

“I want your voice on my playlist, it’s so pretty.”

“Why?”

“I just said.” Virgil props his chin on his hand again. “It’s so pretty.”

“No, why are you doing this?”

Virgil smirks. “Because you’re so pretty.”

And with that, Patton’s reduced to another blushy panic with plenty of muttered comments and Virgil’s standing there, grinning. It’s refreshing, seeing Virgil so confident, so sure of himself. It looks good on him.

And, of course, Patton is objectively adorable.

The scene is so captivating, in fact, that Logan glances down at his watch only to realize the two minutes have expired.

“Time,” he calls, much to Patton’s relief.

“Thank goodness.”

“Aw,” Virgil pouts, “you’ll hurt my feelings, cutie.”

“Nope. No more.” Patton points a stern finger at him, the effect slightly undone by his pink cheeks and the fact that he’s obviously fighting a smile. “You get out.”

Virgil just winks and saunters back to the couch.

“Stellar performance, Dark and Stormy,” Roman declares, giving Virgil a round of applause, “truly excellent.”

“Well done,” Logan says, “that was quite the display of self-confidence.”

Virgil just lifts a shoulder and lets it drop. “Eh. Easy dare. My turn now, right?”

“Indeed.”

Virgil narrows his eyes, glancing between the two of them. “Princey. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Roman answers immediately, “what kind of prince would I be if I turned down a challenge?”

Virgil smirks. “Alright, then. You have two minutes to make Patton redder than I did.”

“Done.”

“Virgil,” Logan chides lightly as Roman prances off toward the kitchen.

“Relax,” Virgil says, settling in to watch, “it’s not like he’s gonna hurt him.”

“No, he’s just going to fluster him with the end goal of rendering him inarticulate.”

Virgil smirks. “Exactly. Now shut up and watch.”

“Oh, Addie,” Roman calls, smirking at the way Patton startles.

“Oh, um, hey, Roman, um, what do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you, Patton.”

“Oh goodness,” Patton mumbles, already covering his face as Roman crowds him against the counter, “don’t say my name like that, that’s really mean!”

Roman’s eyes gleam. “Dearest, if you wanted me to call you pet names instead, you only had to ask, my sweet, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“No!”

Roman just smirks, bracing his hands on either side of him. “No? Then what should I call you, gorgeous?”

Any reply is too muffled for Logan to hear. Virgil snickers as Roman sighs dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll just have to call you by your lovely, lovely name.” He leans forward to try and peer through the gaps in his fingers. “Almost as lovely as you.”

He chuckles when Patton whines again, spluttering like a fish out of water. “You’re so cute when you’re at a loss for words.”

“What do you want?”

“Oh, I was dared to make you redder than Virgil did.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re absolutely stunning, darling,” Roman answers easily, “and it’s stunningly easy to flirt with you.”

“It is not!”

Virgil snorts and Logan raises an eyebrow. Roman’s smirk widens.

“Of course is it, cutie pie,” he coos, “all I have to do is this.”

“N-no, don’t do that,” Patton stammers, trying to cover his face with a dish towel, only for Roman to catch his hands and effortlessly pull them out of the way, lacing their fingers together and holding them against the counter.

“What’s the problem, sweetie?” He gently blows a strand of hair out of Patton’s face. “Is it just that I’m…right here? Talking like this to you? Is that it, honey?”

“Mmm!”

“Hmm?” Roman tilts his head. “What’s that, cutie?”

“It’s not even flirting,” Patton manages, still looking as if he’s trying to sink into the counter.

“I’m not even saying anything, cutie,” Roman coos, “and there’s nothing I enjoy better than being able to render you speechless like this.”

Logan has to admit, Roman’s teasing is enough to make him shift on the couch, a slight flush rising unbidden to his face. Judging by the way Virgil starts fiddling with the strings on his hoodie, he’s not immune to it either.

It really should not be that much of a surprise that Roman is one of the most proficient flirters in the Mindscape. Romance, passion, and desire all fall under his purview. And yet, here they all are, slowly growing more and more flustered.

“Okay,” Virgil mutters just loud enough for Logan to hear, “Princey’s getting me and he’s not even trying.”

“I concur.” Logan adjusts his tie and glances at his watch. “Thirty seconds.”

“Come on.” Roman tugs gently at the towel in Patton’s hands. “You have to show me your cute little face, otherwise I won’t know if the dare’s over yet!”

He finally manages to get the towel away from him and gasps, quickly reaching out to cup his cheeks before he can cover his face again. “Oh, just look at you, you’re even cuter up close!”

“R-Roman!”

“Yes, cutie pie?”

“Let me go!”

“Go where,” Roman murmurs, pushing Patton gently against the counter, “can you think of anywhere better to be than right here, in my arms, while I tease you silly? Hmm? You’re not even trying to get away, sunshine.”

“Time.”

Roman chuckles, stepping back, perching his hands on his hips. “What do you think, redder than Virgil’s go?”

“Hmm,” Virgil hums, leaning over the back of the couch, “dunno. Can’t see his face from here.”

“I’m mad at you,” Patton mutters, already covering his face.

“Aw, no,” Roman purrs, “no you aren’t. Come on, gorgeous, if you don’t show us your face, I’ll just have to do it again!”

“No.” Patton forces his hands down, making Roman chuckle again. Sure enough, his face is beet red, covering his skin with such intensity that for a moment, Logan worries. Then Virgil snorts.

“Aww, he’s so cute!”

“I know, isn’t he?”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Virgil,” Logan chides lightly.

“You’re no fun, teach,” Virgil says, waving a hand, but he concedes. “Yeah, alright, Princey. You win.”

Roman bows, sweeping his hand in a wide arc, before taking one of Patton’s hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Thank you, sunshine.” With a wink, he strides back to the couch and sits down triumphantly. “That was fun!”

His eyes widen when he sees Logan adjust his glasses nervously and Virgil quickly flips up his hood.

“Don’t tell me that you got flustered too,” he teases, reaching up to poke Logan’s arm.

“Enough,” Logan says quickly, “your turn to ask.”

For a moment, he braces himself for Roman to not, indeed, agree, but then Roman simply pouts and tilts his head up.

“Logan, dare or dare?”

Logan blinks. “That is not the game, Roman.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one who hasn’t done a dare yet, so…” Roman shrugs. “Dare or dare?”

“It seems pointless for me to choose between two of the same options,” Logan sighs, “but I will select ‘dare.’”

Roman tilts his head this way and that, considering Logan. Then he grins.

“I don’t think it’s fair if we leave Logan out,” he says to Virgil, “do you?”

“Oh, goodness, hasn’t Patton had enough?”

Virgil narrows his eyes at him. “So you don’t wanna have a turn?”

Logan fiddles with his watch. “…I didn’t say that.”

“Marvelous!” Roman claps his hands. “Oh, don’t be so shy, Logan!”

“We know you’ve got notebooks full of ways to fluster us, L,” Virgil adds, “you’re good at it, okay?”

Logan is quite proud of his ability to flirt, although how the others know about his research is a worrying question.

“So,” Roman says cheerfully, “you have two minutes, but you have a harder job than we did.”

Logan frowns and Roman’s grin widens.

“You have two minutes to make Patton melt.”

“Oh, Logan’s screwed,” Virgil chortles, tugging at his hoodie strings, “he’s so wound up right now.”

Well.

Logan gets up, adjusts his tie, and heads for the kitchen, ignoring the way Roman and Virgil scramble up onto the couch to watch.

Patton’s leaning over the counter, pressing his hand to his forehead. He glances up when Logan enters the kitchen and pauses. Contrary to his previous statement, he doesn’t look upset or angry, simply exhausted.

“You too, hmm?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Patton groans, letting his head drop onto the counter. “Did I do something? Or are you all just bored?”

“We’re bored,” Virgil shouts, “and you’re cute!”

“Shh, it’s not your turn anymore!”

“Shut up, Princey.”

Logan rolls his eyes fondly, stepping closer. Patton straightens up, waving a hand.

“Go on. Just get it over with.”

“And I thought Roman was dramatic,” Logan remarks dryly, “but I am not keeping you here. If you truly wish to leave…”

He gestures toward the stairs. Patton glances between him and the stairs.

“…really?”

“By all means,” Logan says, lowering his voice and leaning against the wall to demonstrate he had no intentions of moving, “be my guest.”

He watches, carefully keeping his face blank, as Patton starts to edge around the counter. He eyes the little bit of space he’s left and he can see the moment he realizes it’s not enough.

“Okay,” he says, “I’m gonna go now.”

“I know.” Logan tilts his head and smiles. “I’m not stopping you.”

He stops out of his reach and stares at the gap again. One more little push, then.

“You know…” Logan adjusts his glasses and looks Patton up and down. “You do not seem to be particularly…eager to leave, Patton.” He lets the corner of his mouth turn up into a smirk. “Could it be that…you do not wish to leave?”

Patton takes the bait.

As soon as Patton gets close enough, Logan hooks his foot around his ankle and blocks his exit, not bothering to hide his smirk this time. “However,” he says quietly, “I do have a task to perform.”

“You,” Patton mumbles, closing his eyes, “are mean.”

“Then allow me to make it up to you.” Logan moves, using his weight to push him back into the kitchen. “I have a proposition.”

“Logan…”

Logan smiles, leaning against the counter. “Come here.”

“That sounds awful.” Logan raises his eyebrows. “…okay, okay, I’m coming.”

Patton stops in front of him, his arms wrapped protectively around his waist. He does indeed look very cute.

“Touch can be very grounding for you,” Logan says quietly, careful to keep his voice too low for Roman and Virgil to hear, “so if you like, you may cuddle with me for the duration of the two minutes.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really.” He holds out one hand, palm up. “Or, you may leave. I won’t stop you this time.”

He hugs himself tighter, glancing between the stairs and Logan’s hand. He tilts his head.

“Come here, Patton,” he murmurs.

He takes his hand.

He pulls Patton closer, opening his arms and letting him hug him nervously. He hugs him back, creating a little pocket of intimacy apart from the rest of the room.

“There…” Logan leans down to whisper in his ear. “Isn’t that better? Now you have something to hold onto, something to hide your face, hmm?”

Patton nods, his face buried in his shoulder.

The other thing about having Patton in his arms is that he can murmur directly into his ear, which both prevents Roman and Virgil from hearing anything he’s saying and makes flustering him much, much easier. He says as much, smiling when Patton whines and tightens his grip.

“Do you know what my dare was, Patton?” When he shakes his head, Logan reaches up to gently run his hand through his hair. “It was not, in fact, to fluster you, but to make you melt.”

“M-melt?”

“Yes, dear,” Logan smirks when Patton shudders involuntarily. “Do you like the pet names, little one?”

“Logan…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, running his hand through his hair again, “it’s quite alright, dear. Physical affection helps you relax, pet names make you feel cared for. It makes sense.

“You are a sweetheart. No, no, don’t disagree with me,” he hushes, “you are. You care very much about how you can help other people and you do, sweetheart. It follows that having such affections be returned make you feel good.”

He tightens his grip, cradling his head against his shoulder. “You feel good right now, don’t you, dear?”

“…yes.”

“Then, truly, how can you blame us for wanting to call you so many?” Logan tilts his head a little more. “You always get so flustered by it.”

“No, I don’t…”

“You clearly do,” he purrs, “you’re not hiding it well, dear. I can feel how warm your face is, pressed into me like that.”

As he speaks, he feels it grow warmer still. He chuckles.

“Oh, there’s really no need to be so embarrassed, dear,” he murmurs, “it makes complete sense. Hugs have been proven to decrease stress, reduce blood pressure, and increase the production of oxytocin.“ He smirks. “Quite the addictive drug, no?”

Patton whines and he runs his hand slowly down his spine, pulling his hips against his.

“You are smaller than me—“

“Hey!”

“—you are, which increases the feeling of protection,” he murmurs, “and safety, and thus you will relax.”

He draws the word out with deliberate slowness, the end of it turning into a chuckle as he trembles in his hold.

“That’s it, dear,” he says softly, “relax. Because there’s one more reason you’re going to melt for me.”

Logan pauses, glancing up to see Roman and Virgil staring at them over the edge of the kitchen counter. He smirks and puts his mouth deliberately close to Patton’s ear.

“You care for me, don’t you, Patton,” Logan whispers, his breath ghosting over his neck, “you do, don’t you? You care for me.”

Patton whimpers.

“Say it, dear,” Logan coaxes, “say you care for me?”

“…of course I do,” comes the strangled whisper.

“Of course you do,” he purrs, “of course you do, and here you are…wrapped up in my arms…letting me call you pet names…letting you hide your blush in the crook of my neck…”

He shifts one last time, making sure Roman and Virgil can see. Raising his voice slightly, he cups the back of Patton’s head protectively. He glances at his watch.

“Ready?” He threads his fingers through the baby hairs on the back of Patton’s neck.

“One…two…three, melt for me, dear.”

The two minutes run out just as Patton whines and melts into a blushing little puddle in Logan’s arms.

“Holy shit,” Logan hears Virgil mutter, “he fucking did it.”

“I’m never underestimating him again.” Roman throws his hands up. “He did it in two minutes.”

He tightens his grip, his nails scratching the back of his neck. “Good job, dear.”

And if it makes him shudder and lean into him a little more, well, that’s just something else to add to the notebook.

It’s cathartic; he can wind them up, make them all flustered, and then open his arms and cuddle them right back down, give them the reassurance of getting all worked up in a safe environment where nothing’s really gonna hurt them. Plus, if they’re too tired to protest when he peppers kisses all over them, that’s just a bonus.

Janus—the one whose fault this is—is classic spy movie seduction. Textbook. His silver-tongue makes compliments as smooth as his scales and subtle touches that make their heads spin. Pet names, snarky comments, teasing, the lot of it. He knows they have a thing for his voice. All he has to do most of the time is get close and purr and they’re putty in his hands. Sometimes he’ll stay further away where they have nowhere to hide and just watch them squirm. Sometimes he just has to look at them a certain way and they’re gone. He is the embodiment of using the business end of your weapon to homo-erotically tilt up your opponent’s chin. Rivals Roman for how easy it is for him to make them flustered, but unlike Roman, with him, it’s a toss-up. He knows he’s a lot, and odds are, if he’s going to flirt with them, it’s more likely to be for the catharsis reason and less because they’re fun to play with. (Even though they are.) So, if he’s not having a competition with another Side or in a playful mood, he’s much gentler about it than Roman is, he’ll stop a lot sooner or pull them into his lap for cuddles. Or, like Remus, he’ll just touch them, let them hide their face in the crook of his neck, and just run his hands over them. It’s a perfect combination of grounding and flustering. Plus, warmth is good for snakes and there’s nothing warmer than a bright, flushed, flustered face. Totally doesn’t fluster people on purpose to steal their body heat.

Remus is by far the only side where his approaches are completely different depending on who it is. Virgil is flustered very easily by his innuendos and everything, the more audacious, the better. Sometimes it resorts to the two of them having a flirt-off, the loser hiding their face while the victor cackles. Or Remus will make something that totally isn’t an innuendo into one and Virgil’s gone. For Logan, often he’ll just find him and tackle him onto the nearest surface, flopping down on top of him like a cat and listening as Patton starts verbally vomiting as he gets redder and redder. But overt sexual references make Patton and Janus really really uncomfortable, so it’s the bad kind of flustered. Instead, he’ll just find them and cuddle them and loudly explain how they are in fact the best cuddler. He finds how embarrassed they get very amusing. And if it has the side effect of summoning everyone else to a cuddle pile both because of the outrageous idea that anyone is better at cuddling than them and also free cuddles, well. Oops.

So yeah. It’s a fucking mess.

At least it’s a hot mess, right?

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workingforitallthetime · 4 years ago

Text

svech: a very serious and responsible primer

ok @totally-necessary and @needsmore, i am gonna write you an andrei svechnikov primer and i am going to do my best to produce a work of responsible well-sourced expository prose instead of an embarrassing thirsty disaster like the rest of my andrei svechnikov blogging.

here is my introductory paragraph:

wait, no, give me another shot. i swear i can actually do this. here is my introductory paragraph:

HOW CAN I NOT LOVE THIS GOOD-NATURED FEARLESS JOYFUL SHOULDER-FRECKLED SEX KITTEN????? HOW CAN I DO ANYTHING BUT CRY ALL THE TIME?????

.......ok. sorry. let me try it again. i’ll do it right this time, i promise. here is my introductory paragraph:

once upon a time in siberia, two-year-old andrei svechnikov put on skates for the first time and cried because he couldn’t follow his big brother evgeny onto the ice. eventually evgeny’s coach let andrei join the team’s workouts, and then coach started giving the older players a hard time when andrei would beat them.

the backstory of the svech bros sounds a lot like every other hockey kid who didn’t grow up privileged: parents who worked multiple jobs and sacrificed and moved cities to make sure the kids got hockey opportunities. in interviews, the svechnikov brothers have referenced not knowing where food or clothes were going to come from, and they emphasize how close it made them. evgeny says:

Having a brother that we eat from one plate--sleep in one bed sometimes--we went through everything. It's just one person by your side always. It's like going hunting alone or with somebody.

they wear the same number. they talk every day. as soon as the season paused in march, evgeny drove to north carolina. lately, they’re hanging out in michigan. basically, if hockey is not being played, they are together. basically, if you are going to write a primer about andrei, the most important thing is evgeny.

(my theory is that evgeny is at least part of the reason andrei does not like it when dougie and foegs joke about him being their kid brother. it’s the only joke i’ve ever seen svech refuse to roll with.)

evgeny got drafted by the red wings in 2015 (round 1, 19th overall). he started out with the AHL affiliate in grand rapids, and in 2016 mama svech packed up andrei and moved from russia to michigan. andrei played a season for the muskegon lumberjacks in the USHL. he led the team in scoring and was named USHL rookie of the year. the next season he was the first selection in the CHL import draft, and played for the barrie colts.

ok, so while we’re knocking out the backstory, i want to note that svech’s full name is Andrei Igorevich Svechnikov. don’t tell me that’s not sexy.

furthermore, the very spelling of andrei is sexy. i had a russian-speaking colleague once who had a son named andrei and she would say his name with a little lift at the end. not like the i added another syllable, just like a little caress. i hear it that way when i type it. it makes me happy to type that i at the end. andrei. andrei.

oh sorry, did i veer off topic?

the carolina hurricanes selected andrei second overall in the 2018 draft. he looked just as dumb as everybody always does in their draft night jersey photos, but here’s his draft day suit:

oh wait, can’t pass up the opportunity for a combine photo

did i say COMBINE? i meant JAWLINE

wait one more photo from the combine, just because he looks especially dead poets society in this one:

upon moving to raleigh, andrei emphatically wanted to live alone, which seems unusual for an 18-year-old entering the NHL and is therefore fertile ground for all sorts of headcanons. he keeps his floors very clean and gets mad when his buddies won’t take their shoes off. i am not making this up. he lives in the same apartment complex as dougie hamilton, warren foegele, joel edmundson (rip), and teuvo teravainen. andrei does not cook and he’s constantly calling them to see who wants to go out to eat.

in that last video i linked you can see foegs stumble and jump off his scooter just before he hits the gate to their parking garage. then the gate rises like magic and svech glides straight through. this is an unsubtle metaphor for andrei svechnikov’s entire athletic existence.

svech purportedly does not play video games, which is wild to me. instead, he practices magic tricks. again, i am not making this up.

wait i’m sorry it’s been at least ten minutes since i looked at a picture of andrei svechnikov holding a bunch of kittens

ok where was i.

svech had a pretty solid rookie season in 2018-19, but you can look up the numbers elsewhere if you want them. he was the first player born this century to score in the NHL but we don’t like to think about his 2000 birthdate. he played on a line with jordan martinook for a lot of that first season, and you can read more about that romantic nonsense in the ship primer i’ll be writing next. more recently the canes have settled into a top line of svech, sebastian aho, and teuvo teravainen, which is a pretty deadly combo.

one incident of note from svech’s rookie season is that he got knocked the fuck out by alex ovechkin. we’ll be talking more about that in the ship primer too, but if you want the video it’s here.

here, have a little celly:

svech’s most touted accomplishment is scoring the NHL’s first-ever Michigan-style lacrosse goal. this article has a very good description of how it worked. the postgame interview from that game is so endearing it makes me want to claw my face off. he’s talking so fast (for him) and he keeps repeating that his brother taught it to him, just absolutely determined to make sure everyone knows this milestone belongs to evgeny too.

also, this season, he scored the first playoff hat trick in franchise history.

the thing about andrei svechnikov is that nobody has a bad word to say about him. everybody thinks he’s an amazing player (”skilled and tenacious yet loose and creative”) and everybody compliments his work ethic (shooting pucks for hours after practice or a game) and journalists call him a “transcendent star.” everybody says he’s a great person. everybody calls him special. jordan martinook says svech never has a bad word to say about anyone.

ok it’s kitten time again!

more svech facts of note:

drives a black mercedes, poorly. “he wants to win on the road, too,” says foegs.

his voice gets very soft when he is uncertain about something but he’s loud when he wins a card game. (”GOOD NIGHT, BROTHER! SEE YOU NEXT GAME!”)

loves french toast for breakfast.

guilty pleasure is milkshakes.

if he was an animal, he’d be a bear (”like a russian bear.”)

does monster summer workouts with ivan provorov

look how fucking cute he is

the invaluable social media team over at hurricanes hq understands the svech content the world needs. i’m gonna tackle some more of this in the ship primer, but here are the best ones:

who’s your daddy? this video features svech confusedly asking “daddy?”, which is literally everything i ever want in fic or in life. once he finally understands he’s expected to choose between two teammates, he chooses the one who’s his buddy. and then after he’s catcalled from offscreen, he slouches down in his chair and changes his answer. “both,” he mutters, looking unbearably smug. “both.”

cookie face. it takes marty a very entertaining 49 seconds to eat the cookie. then svech hacks the game and wins in 7 second flat. “he’s good at everything,” marty marvels from offscreen.

this is a terrible concept for a video but it does feature svech and dougie doing the famous scene from stepbrothers, and svech giving a sweeping bow. i will forgive him for wearing a duke hat but only because he wears a tarheels hat in the three amigos video above.

has it been too long since a kitten photo? it’s definitely been too long since a kitten photo.

in conclusion, andrei svechnikov is a massive life-ruining problem and also he is perfect. i love him.

#whew #svech primer #hawk fic

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gojoscloset · 4 years ago

Text

“Hello, I just read your writing d**k appointment and I like it very much. And suddenly, I saw that you open the request NSFW dialogue prompts. Would you please write prompt 60 “Looks like someone wants to be a dad/mom” with Gojo or Megumi please 🥺”

Bahaha omg I’m so sorry I’m late as hell I’ve been busy with a lot mentally cause I have the attention span of a goldfish.

Please please enjoy, thank you so much for requesting lol. I’m back on my bullshit ✨

60. “Looks like someone wants to be a mom/dad”

WARNINGS: N S F W

Reposted from previous account

Smut obvs.

Breeding kink???? (if you squint)

Cream pie

Mentions of Pregnancy

No proofread??

————-

“Looks like someone wants to be a mom.”

You didn’t dare look away from what you thought had to be one of the cutest pairs of baby shoes you have ever laid your eyes on.

“Hmm? What do you mean? I just thought they were cute!” you lifted the pair of shoes up and gave your boyfriend a grin.

But Satoru was no idiot.

You see, these past few months have been filled with nothing but waves of emotions and ideas that you would have never thought you would have contemplated this early in life, but a pregnancy scare earlier in the year shook your world and turned it on its axis.

Of course you had imagined a life with Satoru, possibly married in the later years, and a potential family way wayyy down the line. However, you were content with where you two stood. A strong and healthy relationship, 2 consenting adults in love. But you also had to remember you were 2 powerful sorcerers in love. So even with your line of work, kids at the moment seemed really out of the question. Hell, even being in a relationship with someone like Satoru was a blessing with the lives you two lived. So even the idea of bearing his child seemed like you were asking for a lot from the universe.

When your period came late, all your little fantasies and thoughts of having a family took a step closer to becoming reality, you melted at the idea of becoming a mother and all your fears and doubts were thrown out the window.

But alas, the joy left just as fast as it came you were back on your regular schedule the day before your doctor's appointment. Relieved of course, but things weren’t the same.

Day after day you caught yourself indulging more and more in the idea of what your life would be like with a child. Would your first child be a girl or a boy? Whose features would they take on the most? Oh how you prayed to the gods that they would look more like Satoru than anything.

Would you be a good mother? Would Satoru be a good father? There was no doubt in your mind that he would be.

Don’t even get started on the names.

Your gaze would linger when you would pass up children and their parents at a park. Or when you would pass up baby clothes at the shopping strip, you would stop in your tracks and imagine your future child wearing that outfit.

Secretly you would shop for clothes online just to ‘see what they look like’ Or secretly read first time mom forums on breddit just to ‘See how it feels’ but it was so much more than just a passing curiosity.

And of course, You weren’t the only one who noticed the change.

You and Satoru have been in the love game for a respectable amount of time, and have spent the seconds, hours,days,weeks,months,years, in each other's presence. He would absolutely be able to acknowledge when you’d turn your head in the kids section or when your gaze would linger on the little girls in princess dresses at the market, corners of your lips curling just a little.

Or when a toddler at the grocery store handed him a fake phone,in which he pretended to answer with such enthusiasm you would almost believe he was actually on the phone with someone,he could visibly see how your heart melted at the sight. You looked at him like you wanted to marry him on the spot for the rest of the day. A personal favorite memory of his.

Satoru was a dumbass, but he was not stupid.

You didn’t know how much he loved seeing these little things, the little changes in you. Behind his tinted shades and through his long lashes, he would carefully watch your duality go from powerful sorcerer to something maternal.Something you never did in all the time he has known you until after the scare.

It made him want to jump your bones on the spot and put a baby in you every time, but you never brought up the topic despite seeming to be interested in motherhood, and respectfully he left it alone. But you had been caught red handed almost always.

Satoru held himself back when he had various opportunities to talk about it, do you know how hard that is to do as Satoru?

He wanted to press on. He wanted to pry and ask you all kinds of questions regarding the sudden change, but he knew that there was a time and place for everything, and now was definitely not the time nor location.

“Hey, not bad!” He allowed his glasses to slip off the bridge if his nose ever so slightly to get a better view.

“I would wear these if they came in my size”

He joked, you smacked his arm playfully and laughed.

“Cmon lets g-“

You were about to place the shoes back on the rack but he stopped you before you did. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the shoes and tag.

“I was being serious” he stated plainly, earning another laugh from the both of you.

——

The rest of the day went on as normal, for the most part. The little interaction at the store replayed not only in your mind but Satoru’s as well.

‘Did I make it too obvious?’

‘Did I overdo it with the shoes?’

‘Is it time to talk about it?’

—-

‘Toru..’ you whined but that didn’t stop him from continuing to bend you like a pretzel while plowing into you.

“Don’t be shy now, you look so good like this. ...And those faces you make....” he licked his lips reaching out to grab your jaw, thumb running across your lip.

Even though you were whining about the embarrassing positions he kept putting you in, your body was on fire and didn’t want this to end.

With every position he managed to go deeper and deeper, hitting places only he knew how to hit. He utilized the curve of his dick just how you liked it, grazing your favorite spots with every thrust.

The way your walls fluttered and clenched against his made them his favorite spots too.

It was crazy to you how Satoru knew your body like nobody else did. He knew every curve, every dip, every corner. He knew what made you weak in the knees and what you disliked with a passion. He knew what made you cream, what made you wet, what made your back arch and your toes curl.

“You like that Hmm?” He bucked his hips, folding your legs up, pushing your knees as close to your chest as possible.

He gazed into your eyes, watching the way your face wrenched in pleasure. He needed that, he loved that. Being able to see your expression contour and twist because of him, god it got him off.

He looked down at you, his usually spiky hair now flattened with sweat, strands sticking to the side of his face. He bit his lip, and gripped your hips with force, bruises were guaranteed.

He brought you closer, you slowed your breathing to control the ride. You two had been fucking long enough to know the Cues, the way your body twitched and the little sounds you would make when you were close triggered the muscle memory and he moved in the way he knew would push you over the edge.

“D..Don't slow down!” You commanded, throwing your head back into the sheets, the familiar tingling sensation starting at your core, his pace picking up, hands trailing down your abdomen, fingers circling around your clit, wet with its own slick.

He couldn’t help but suck on his own bottom lip watching your body rock in rhythm with his, the way your breast bounced, he couldn’t help but grab a handful.

“That’s right baby….” he spoke softly, voice just above the lewd sounds you two we’re making. The squelching, skin slapping skin, the gasping sounds when he would thrust back into you.

He was getting carried away, letting the words just spill from his lips. “Mmmm fuck yeah baby, you feel so fucking good.” He groaned “fuck around and put a baby in you-“

You had been with this man for many many moons, had been through thick and thin, but nothing had prepared you two for that awkward moment.

All movements ceased the second he stopped talking. Both of you pulled away and just looked at each other, embarrassment demonstrated on both of your faces.

Both of you seemed to think about the Barget incident, and then every other incident which made the dirty talk hit different.

“Sorry” Quickly he spoke, in hopes of somehow saving his ass in case things went south.

“W-what for?” You continued to try and mask your feelings about the situation(s), but nothing could get past his eyes.

He was no idiot, you knew that, but you still tried him, because sometimes he lets your shit slide. But not this time.

“Please y/n, I’ve seen the change in you.”

The air was thick, momentarily, but the smile on his face gave you clarity.

“The lingering looks, the shoes at the store… I’ve noticed” his large hands cupped your face, thumb brushing calming shapes against your cheek.

“Is there something we need to talk about?”

He released you from your position and sat up straight.

“Toru…do you really wanna talk about this now?????” Sheepish under the circumstances

“Don’t give me that. We’ve been together too long for you to try and play this game with me.”

His hands found their way to you once again. Pulling you by the wrists, he sat you up and made you look at him as he continued to speak.

“Communication remember?” He was soft, yet stern.

“You haven’t been the same since the missed period incident.” Your jaw dropped, he was on it even with the timing.

There was no sense in hiding anything anymore, this man knows all, this man sees all.

“I’d be lying if I said you were wrong….you see..” you began to pour your heart out, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with him.

“The pregnancy scare heightened the want for a family with you, Satoru. I envision a lot of things, and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

He held your gaze while looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He listened intently like you were whispering the secrets of the universe to him.

“But I never brought up the topic of family because we’re-“

“Sorcerers” He finished the sentence for you, the small smile he held earlier now turned into a flat line.

The speed in which he did was almost enough to make you flinch. Bittersweet in a way,at least this confirmed that he too thought about a family with you at one point but considered the circumstances.

A“Exactly..” you continued. “And the scare made me realize what I want in life..with you. But it’s out of reach and it’s not something I wanted to project onto- “

His large hands placed themselves in either side of your face and Satoru showered you with kisses.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” He spoke in between kisses.

“I love you too, but- AH!!! What are you doing??!”

Satoru pulled you by your ankles, placing himself in between your legs once again.

“Putting a baby in you, that's what.” He gave you such a sweet and loving look, it didn’t match the words that spewed from his lips.

“T-that’s not funny…” Quickly, you covered your entrance before he even thought about it.

“Exactly, because it wasn’t a joke sweetheart.”

“Wait, but what about-”

“We’ll be fine, i’m the strongest, remember?” he gave you a playful wink and grabbed your wrists, playfully prying your hands away, he wasn’t going to do anything though, not without your consent, but seeing how flustered he could make you fed the already enlarged ego he owned.

“Now tell me, do you want a boy or girl? Ooh, what about their names?”

“ Satoru… wait… are you sure? Don’t you wanna think about it a little more?”

He let out a playful laugh and pointed a finger dramatically at you, “Are you sure?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, you wanted this so bad, and by the looks of it, so did he.

“That’s all you had to say, let me take care of you, my pillow princess”

-------------

The sultry night was young.How many times have you came already? It didn’t matter.

His arms were wrapped around your entire body, holding you in place as he bounced you up and down his shaft.

“My pretty girl… my sweet sweet princess.” He whispered against your skin, tongue grazing from your collar bone up to your jaw, tasting your sweat. He wanted to breathe you in, and make you his air. The words replayed in his mind as he fucked you senseless.

“and you being in my future for a long long time is one of them...”

“Toru…” Your breathing hitched,, his praise made your walls twitch around him. He got the hint and immediately went to work. In a swift movement you were beneath his form. His skin glistening with a layer of sweat.

“ How do you want it?” he groaned, draping your leg over his shoulder while grabbing the other one, spreading you wider. You were grateful for the change of position, you have been wanting to touch him for a while now but the grip he had you in earlier was not letting it happen.

Your hands hungrily made his way to his chest and arms.

“As long...as I get it…” you managed to mutter through moans. His thrusts became erratic, a sign that he was coming undone as well.

“Look at me..tell me how you want it....tell me how you need it” he licked his lips with desire. You managed to look at him through half lidded eyes, giving him exactly what he wanted, he always did the same for you.

You lifted your hips up some, grinding harder against him, letting more of him fill you up, you could swear you felt his head kiss your cervix. You did a kegel, walls giving his dick a hug.

The actions earned you a breathy moan, he almost lost his cool, it threw off his pace momentarily but when he picked back up, the speed was doubled.

“You like to play dirty, hmm? “

“The only way I like to play…”

“Very well then” he said through grit teeth, finger moving to where you were connected, rubbing your clit in circles without mercy. You were pushed over the edge quickly, mouth Ajar, and body convulsing against him, his movements did not falter.

“That’s my good girl”

He lowered his body down mouth to cage you between his arms, droplets of sweat falling onto the sheets as he tried to avoid sweat falling into your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He asked once again, not moving an inch until you gave him the go.

You simply stared up at him, goofy grin he always carried on him plastered onto his handsome face.

You gave him the go once again and he bucked his hips.

This particular moment was sweet sweet bliss. Normally Satoru would be careless with his movements when it came to chasing his orgasm, but not this particular one. His touches would linger, fingertips burning themselves into your skin with passion, making their way from your hips to your hands, large fingers filling in the gaps between your own.

His kisses were oh so immaculate. Sweet and soft, but most importantly, abundant.

And the way he spoke your name. Only Satoru could make his words come out like they were coated in honey.

His hips snapped and he gave your hand a squeeze, face in the crook of your neck, the hot breath against your skin forced chills down your spine, with you

“I love you so much…” he groaned into your ear. With a few more bucks of his hips you felt his seed spill into you. You were running on fumes at this point, overkill with the overstim, but that’s how you liked it.

You felt your clit throb, your walls still fluttering against him from your previous climax like they were sucking every last drop of out of him.

He looked down at you silently, but the look on his face, the calm waters in his eyes said everything he needed to say. You couldn’t tear away your gaze, you were already high off the blue dream.

His eyes moved from yours to your lips, they looked needy to him. He bent his head down and planted a kiss, despite the scenario, it was chaste. Innocent. Refreshing.

“I love you.” He repeated, though he had no doubt you felt the same. “I know you do...there is not a single doubt in my mind...and I love you oh so very much, more than I could ever put in words.”

There was another comfortable silence, however, the small smile that was on your face quickly turned into a flustered look when he pulled out of you and spread your legs open, looking at the mess he made inside of you.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?!!”

You laughed nervously and tried closing your legs, but he held them open, too strong for you to try and fight against it.

“I just wanted to see the masterpiece I made. Plus-“ he positioned himself between your legs again

“I’m not done, I want to make sure I get the job done right.”

He gave you a wink, and immediately you knew you were in for a long night.

A very very long night.

#jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo #Nasty Nept✨

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