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lex-the-flex · 28 days

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Soured Whiskey

Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Your one night stand with a handsome stranger at the bar leads to a different endeavor.

Word Count: 2k

Warning(s): HEAVY ANGST, brief cursing, small moments of action and violence, brief drinking, Logan being protective, MEGA FLUFF, SMUT 18+ – Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), oral (f! receiving), fingering, skin + body appreciation, Logan being a gentleman and the reader being lovely. (Basically distant soulmates).

A/N: I'm officially seeing Deadpool and Wolverine tomorrow and I'm so excited! But in the meantime, I thought I'd add to the pile of Wolverine smut.

Strings of ornately hung light bulbs decorate the bar, bringing a cozy old-school vibe to the modernized saloon. Closing the door behind you, the cold city atmosphere was instantly transformed into a quaint and warm invitation. You’re friends couldn’t stop raving about this new bar and that you all just had to go here and try the endless menu of cocktails and tapas.

So through your busy work week, your friends informed you to meet at the bar on Friday once the sun started to go down. But much to your dismay, your friends bailed on you, even after repaying that they’d be there for you and help you unwind, to de-stress.

You got stood up. By your own good friends who you thought had your back.

Sighing to yourself, it was too late to give up now. You were already here, so you might as well order a drink.

Sitting at the bar, you sat up straight on the stool, not paying attention to who was sitting next to you. It didn’t matter. Patiently waiting for the bartender, the sight of someone sitting next to you crosses your peripheral vision. The man’s muscular arms lean against the counter, reaching for a couple of fresh cashews.

“Hey there, what can I get you?” The bartender asks.

“Just a whiskey sour, please.” You reply.

“Got it, and same for you, sir?” He questions, pushing a singular whiskey glass to the person to your right.

“Yeah, thanks.” The stranger replies.

The stranger’s gruff voice takes you by surprise, but you pay him no mind.

Rolling the coaster in between his fingers, the bartender places your bright whiskey sour in front of you. The refreshing yellow foamy drink is adorned with a lemon swirl and a dried cherry for garnish. Just the sight of it makes a well-deserved smile rise through your lips. Taking a sip of the cold drink, the bartender turns to the back wall with the more expensive bottles of liquor, and passes it to the stranger on your right.

Getting a glimpse his way, the man finally comes into view. His masculine features take over your attention; the man’s full dark head of hair, beard, and strong jaw seem to put you in a hypnotic state. Glancing towards you, his light hazel eyes gaze into your e/c orbs, providing a somewhat welcoming gaze, however his stern and annoyed expression makes you turn away.

Returning to your drink, the stranger lowers his arm next to yours, letting you see a freshly lit cigar in his hand. Blowing the smoke away from you, he silently watches you take another swig of your drink before checking the empty text message bubble once again.

“Rough day?” He asks.

Sighing into your hands, you jokingly squint your eyes at the stranger, and set your phone down.

“You have no idea. I‘be been craving this damn drink all day.” You reply.

Running your index finger around the rim of the almost empty glass. Smirking, the stranger raises his glass towards yours.

“Name’s Logan.” He says.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Logan.” You answer, clinking your glass with his.

Finishing your drinks and dinner in a comfortable silence, Logan silently watches you, observing some of your mannerisms that stand out to him. The way you sit perfectly straight, how you wipe your mouth after every bite, and even the outfit you picked for yourself. Your light grey cardigan sits perfectly on your shoulders along with the casual white button-up shirt that was underneath it. The pair of black dress pants and ankle boots make you look professional yet comfortable and he liked that.

However, this minuscule moment of peace didn’t last long. The scent of strong liquor and the hint of douchebag lingers in the air behind you and Logan. Taking another puff of his cigar, Logan glances your way, warning you to not pay these drunken idiots any attention.

Polishing off the remainder of your drink, Logan waves for the bartender, and prepares to take your tab.

“I got it, Logan. Don’t worry about me.” You advise.

Placing his hand over yours, Logan stops you from using your debit card, motioning to the three men behind you.

“That’s not what I’m worried about, darlin’.” He warns.

“You shouldn’t worry about her, man. We can take care of her. We’ll take her off your hands.” One of the drunk men sneers.

“No thanks, boys. I’m happy where I stand.” You state, looking at Logan, rubbing your fingers over his knuckles.

Joining you and Logan, the bartender slams his hands on the counter.

“I told the three of you that you’re not allowed in here! Get out before there’s trouble.” He orders.

“Or what, man? What will you do? We’ve been coming here since… this place opened.” The idiot spurs, stuttering to give a clear answer.

Blowing off his friends, the young man stumbles to your left side, slipping on the way to nonchalantly lean on the bar, still desperate to impress you. Ignoring him, Logan watches the other two men leave the bar altogether, clearly done with their friend’s shit.

“Lemme take you out and show you a good time, beautiful. Surely I can do better than the guy on your right. I know I can fuck you better than him.” He explains.

Not noticing that he’s crossed your personal space line, you instinctively back up into Logan, who’s nearly at his breaking point.

“Look, bub. She said no. So, take the hint and get the hell out of here. She’s with me.” Logan rebuttals, just as a wave of rage overtakes his voice.

The sudden sense of feeling claustrophobic creeps out on every single inch of your skin. Glancing down at your hands, you discover that you’re now white-knuckling the edge of the wooden countertop, and Logan begins to ball his fist around his whiskey glass.

Leaning closer to you, the young man tries once again, and fully crosses the line.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me treat you better.” He whispers next to your face.

Suddenly, you see red. The stranger’s hand touches your mid thigh and you merely fly back on the barstool.

“Get the fuck off me!” You shout, pushing the man away.

Within seconds, Logan pushes himself from his own seat, and grabs the young man by his hoodie. Punching the man in the face, he falls to the floor with a streak of blood leaking out of his nose. Wiping his nose, the bartender manages to pull Logan away, before returning to tend to the young man. Tugging Logan closer, he subconsciously wraps his arms around your frame, making sure that you’re out of harm's way.

“You alright?” He asks in a low whisper.

Silently nodding, the two of you refuse to move, and your hand is still lingering on his chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You answer.

*****

Within seconds of shutting your front door behind you, Logan was on you. Deepening the kiss between you both, you could tell that he wanted more. Pushing you against the door, a growl escapes from Logan as he picks you up and walks into the kitchen. Placing you on the marble countertop, his hands work quickly to rid you of the cardigan on your shoulders.

Gliding his lips down to your neck, you wrap your legs around Logan’s waist. Feeling a small moan escape from your lips, you swore that he might fuck you on the cold countertop. But he wasn’t that rebellious. Tearing his own jacket off, Logan carefully carries you through the apartment and down the hallway to your bedroom.

Sitting you down on the edge of your bed, he momentarily breaks the space between you and lifts your shirt from your body. Tossing it across the room, Logan bends down and takes your face in his hands.

“You sure you want this, darlin’? I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.” Logan advises, gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m sure. I want this with you. And only you.” You consent with a nod.

Silently nodding, Logan slowly leans in and pulls you in passionately. His kiss is slow and steady, allowing him to relax at this moment. Feeling his heart swell, Logan couldn’t remember the last time someone wanted him in the way that you do.

Discarding the remainder of both of your clothes, you lay down on the comforter, melting into the soft fabric and Logan follows suit. Gripping his broad shoulders, your fingers press into his hot skin as his lips lock onto yours. Trailing his hand down your bare body, Logan’s fingers reach beneath the waistband of your lacy underwear and press against your clit.

Meeting your throbbing folds with his fingertips, you break the kiss and moan into his mouth. Staring into his hazel eyes, his orbs light up, fueling the sensation of your lust. Rubbing circles into your clit, Logan descends your body with a series of longing kisses to each part he passes.

Discarding the fabric from your core, Logan kisses the sensitive skin of each of your thighs, feeling you shake before him. His scruff makes you chuckle as he can hear your heartbeat ringing in his ears. Licking your folds, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you watch Logan become more and more mesmerized by you.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N…” He whispers in the dark.

Connecting his lips with your clit, a moan escapes from your lips. Pushing his tongue past your entrance, Logan holds your hips in place to keep you from squirming. Gripping the thin comforter, you squeeze your eyes shut, unable to handle the heat rising in your face.

Watching you from afar, Logan continues to eat you out in a steady fashion, letting you enjoy the moment. Running your fingers through his thick hair, you can feel a butterfly sensation rising up to your core. Sensing your body working with his, Logan gently squeezes your hips, lifting you just a touch. Tasting your orgasm reaching its end, your toes curl against the bedding and you cum against Logan’s tongue.

Gasping for air, Logan crawls before you, and his entire physique comes to life. His strong muscles and veins don’t frighten you like so many others, but here everything about him brings you comfort. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Logan balances himself over you, still making sure this is what you want.

“I want you, Logan. All of you, I trust you.” You declare, wrapping your arms around him.

Your vow brings the thought of tears to his tortured eyes, knowing that he has truly deserved this moment.

Lovingly holding his face, Logan briefly touches the tip of your nose with his.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He responds.

“You won’t.” You advise him.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Logan rubs the tip of his cock in time with your folds, sending excitement through his veins. Sliding himself past your entrance, the two of you look at each other, sharing a loving moan. Thrusting his hips together, Logan longs to be deep inside you. He wanted to forget about the world and get lost in you.

Burying his face in your neck, Logan leaves no space between the two of you. Moving in time with his loving thrusts, the sensation of Logan’s manhood against your walls felt like a new stress reliever that you didn’t know you needed. Surrendering to this new wave of euphoria, your fingers run along the strong muscles along Logan’s back, touching the flexing fibers beneath his hot skin. Sinking deeper into you, Logan finds your sensitive spot, causing you to aggressively scratch his back.

Clutching the back of his head, the new scars heal within seconds, whilst Logan slightly groans from the light ripple of pain. A burning sensation of heat starts to rise in your core, you could no longer handle the tension, and Logan continues to ride out the remainder of your orgasm in pure awe of you. Gasping for air, Logan surrounds his arms around your body, and rolls the two of you on your sides.

Pressing his forehead on yours, Logan’s warmth cascades over you, giving you a blanket of warmth in the cool room. Shifting in his arms, he gently runs his fingers through your hair, just as you trace his dimples.

“Well, thank you for a very interesting night, Logan.” You whisper.

Smiling, the two of you share a loving laugh together, and Logan pulls the comforter over you, succumbing to the warmth beneath the blanket.

wolverine taglist ~

@dreamliners

@miss1sarcasmo

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@foursthemagicknumber

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eggedbellies · 2 months

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imagine theres a slime monster living in your walls, you only noticed it bcuz sometimes it stays in one spot too long and you need to repaint ceiling due to water damage. you dont really mind, it doesnt leave the wall wet so there's no mold, and you dont have ppl come over often, the ones that do dont question why you have new stains on the ceiling every month.

obviously it likes warm places so its easy to placate during the winter you moved in since you're also cold, so turning the heat up keeps it happy and hiding.

but then the summer comes and it gets too cold from the ac, it finds the bathroom is much warmer when you're taking a shower. slowly with every shower you take it gets more comfortable being in plain sight, moving from in the wall, to the cabinet, to laying the floor, pressed against the outside of the tub. you never notice bcuz of your opaque shower curtain and it always hides when you get out, lingering nearby until the heat and steam finally fade. going back to the attic or the side of the house the sun hits thats only barely warm enough.

then one day you decide to have a self care day and take a bath, you have your laptop set up to watch movies and maybe a little wine to sip on. your slimey house mate coming to hang out but staying hidden since the curtain isn't pulled.

the lights are dim tho so it decides to test how close it can get to the tub without being seen. apparently pretty damn close bcuz you don't notice him until hes perched on the edge of the tub. you're shocked for a moment but don't really care, maybe he's dried out you do keep it kind of cold, you'll turn the ac down a bit when you get out and maybe leave him somewhere to stay warm.

after a couple more movies you decide to get out, not noticing that the slime moved hours ago, and start to drain the tub. you feel something frantically grip your thighs and try to get up but slip a little further in the tub causing it to press again your hole to start away from the drain.

you realize it's probably the slime afraid to go down the drain and reach forward to plug it back up, but having found an escape and being forced even closer it presses into you. you let out a startled moan and try to scramble out, but once you've got your legs out of the water and try to grab the slime, it slips thru your fingers.

and now its found a much warmer place to hide from the cold air, it slithers into you further, you collapse to your knees, and further, your sure itll never come out, and still goes further.

you finish out the summer with your housemate living in you, its normal to you now, it doesnt bother you at all just like living in the house it mostly keeps to itself. your tummy is a little bloated which is fine by you. you always enjoyed having a little fat on you so you arent going to complain about looking a little bigger.

winter comes and the heat is on and you're hiding under a heated blanket and a heating pad for good measure, your so damn cold blooded but all the ways to get comfy in the winter make it better. soft bkankets and warm fires. and one day you notice theres a bit of shifting in you. you dont pay attention to it until it starts moving downward and think about your housemate that moved into you all those months ago. it moves further down until its just barely sticking out of you and hangs out there.

outside you may be warmer now but its enjoying how wet the inside of your body is. but fuck you wish it would move. you feel so full with him just. casually hanging out in you.

i've been hoarding this post for so long and now everyone gets to see it

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neo-novaa · 1 year

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marital duties

synopsis: king george x reader, loosely based on this ask,

the sun was burning against your back, the only cold solace being from the wet dirt that riddled your hands.

“you’ve got to be careful pulling that one out,” george— farmer george says to you. it’s a carrot, you’ve grown to recognize them by their leaves. “reach deeper into the ground. if you pull it from the leaves, they’ll rip.

you nod, digging your hands into the dirt, but not before you hear george inhale sharply. you turn, worried, finding his lips in a stern line and his brows furrowed.

“what is it?” you ask, interest peaked.

“you’re still not doing it right.”

you scoff, releiving your hands of the moist soil, and unceremoniously brushing them against your silk dress. it was far beoynd saving, sticky with sweat, stained with soil, the wonderful pastels now tainted with shades of brown.

“i’m reaching into the dirt.” you retaliate, flicking away the dirt from under your nails.

it’s his turn to scoff. “barely. you didn’t even get your palms in there.”

wiping the last chunk of mud away from your hands, you turn to him with an unapproving glare. “fine then, i’ll dig deeper.”

you dive in, wrist deep—

“no, now you’ve gone past the root entirely.” he scolds, shuffling over to the carrot you’ve been spending far too much time trying to pick out.

“let me show you,” georges hands envelop yours, his soft palms a sudden reminder of this very temporary escape.

only an hour, that’s all the time you got in a day to pretend that this was your life; to pretend that he was nothing more than farmer george, and you were nothing more than his wife.

“you have to say close to the stem,” he whispers, as if people are watching— as if this isn’t the only time in their entire lives where people weren’t watching.

he gently curls your fingers so that the tips run down the slimy side of the vegetable, nearly reaching the bottom.

“now,” he’s impossibly close, his warm breath against your neck almost making you shudder. “pull!”

he fists your hands and tugs at the carrot with a comical amount of strength. so much so that it causes the two of you to fall over, hands enveloped in each other, grasping a muddy carrot.

“now do you understand?” he says through laughter, and you’re struggling to speak with how much you’re laughing with him. the backside of your dress is now caked in a layer of mulch and dirt. if it was able to be fixed a minute ago, it was far past salvageable now.

“i think i understand.” you finally say through an onslaught of giggles, sitting up once his hands leave yours.

they’re quick to find you again, gently covering your bare shoulders, shielding you from the blazing heat for almost a moment.

you meet his loving eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail as if he’d forget it– as if he’d let his mind do that to him.

one of his hands runs along the side of your face, grasping your chin. “you’ve no idea how beautiful you are.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. you don’t need a mirror to guess your current state: hair a mess, face riddled with streaks of mud, stuck to your face from how much you’ve been sweating.

“george–” you barely get to say his name before he’s kissing you, dirtied hands finding your place along your jaw. you share the sentiment, your own hands caked in soil are muddying his hair, pulling him closer to you.

his hands find your waist, pulling you on top of him. they wander up to your chest, down to your hips, and settle on your thighs.

you pull away, gasping, lungs aching from the lack of air. georges breath are matching yours: strong, heavy, wanting.

you’re about to go in again when you hear feet shuffling on gravel only a few feet away.

“brimsley.” you grumble.

“reynolds.” he mutters.

your right-hand men borh bow deeply. “your majesties,” brimsley says, standing up with perfect posture.

“yes, yes, i know,” you stand up, brushing off the layer of dried soil on your knees, as if it does anything to help. george doesn’t bother with the stains, almost as if he knows that any attempts to clean his farmer trousers would be futile.

“hours up.” you say with a disappointing sigh, and almost scream at the way that brimsley nods curtley.

“says who?” george is grabbing your wrist, catching your attention and reeling it back to him. “i am the king, and you, my queen. there is no one who can tell us what to do.”

“george?” you barely manage to say, standing blankly, fighting the urge to drop your jaw.

“all i’m saying is…” he begins to pull you towards your home, not-so discreetly eyeing your chest. “we have other marital duties to attend…do we not?”

“george!” it’s more like a scorn this time, your gaze quickly darting over to brimsley and reynolds who, as if they were statues, have barely moved since they appeared. unlike him, you’re not used to sharing your thoughts around people.

“come on!” he’s tugging you onto the gravel path, and all you can do is roll your eyes and hike up your dress while running off to perform your… “marital duties.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #king george iii #king george iii bridgerton #king george iii x reader #king george smut #bridgerton smut #bridgerton netflix #king george #king george x reader #netflix queen charlotte #✧. ┊ bridgerton !

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dreamauri · 1 year

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♪ — 𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗛 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘𝗦 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (fluff) “. . . during spending time with your boyfriend on the beach, you decide to use his face to express art”

( my master list | more of lando ) ( requests | taglist )

"It's cold!" Lando shouted childishly over as he walked out of the water. "It's cold." He repeated annoyed as he walked towards where you sat looking past your canvas at your boyfriend. The sun was blazing hot and for some reason, Lando decided he wanted to go for a swim instead of sitting indoors.

"It's cold." He said for the third time, sitting beside you on the warm sand, pouting. You chuckled, setting the drying painting canvas on the sand in front of you. Pulling a towel from beside you, Lando leaned closer as you gently dried his face, fluffing his hair.

"I'm col-" "Lan, I don't control the weather." "That's not how its supposed to go!" He laughed, pulling you in his chest. "Can you be my portable heater?"

"That's the worst pick up line I've ever heard!" You complained playfully, trying to squirm out of his hold. "You're going to get me wet." "Oh no. My bad, my love." Lando said sarcastically, getting to his feet and pulling you into his chest, dragging you to the water.

"Lando no!" You laughed, momentarily getting out of his arms before he lifted you off your feet jumping into the water with you. Cuss words spilled from your mouth from the shock of the temperature, which only prompted your boyfriend to drag you further in till the water reached up to your shoulder length.

And for the next 40 minutes, you two chased each other, splashing and throwing each other ( well lets be honest, mostly him throwing you ). You were able to get out of the water once you chased Lando, winning a splash fight.

Plopping down at your reserved spot, you dry Lando's face and hair again, who only watches you with a smile. "Why you smiling at me like that?!" You laugh pushing him away. "What?! I can't smile anymore?" He teased, holding your wrist and pulling you into a soft kiss.

"No." You put your tongue out, kissing his cheek. The brunette face cried in pain, laying on his back clutching his heart. "Stop being a baby!" You laughed, smudging some of your paint on his nose.

"Not red!" He shouted panicked, seeing the colour on his face, wiping it out quickly in a towel, making you laugh your ass off for the next five minutes, with him telling you its not funny.

"Anything but red!" He protested folding his arms and shaking his head ( vaguely reminding you of the time when a fan left a Ferrari cap on his table, and him trying to push it away without touching it ). "Anything but red?" You asked again once you calmed down.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I've become a canvas." Lando smiled widely giggling, taking a video of himself with you sitting beside him, gently painting on his cheek. "Stop laughing, you're going to ruin it." You scolded him, absolutly concentrated on the image you were generating, the occasional giggle escaping your lips.

"Ruin what? You wont even let me see what you're drawing." He chuckled trying to keep his face still ( failing miserably), which made you chuckle in return, kissing him gently before going back. Lando smiled at the camera, only being able to tell colours of orange, blue, white. Maybe more colours, he couldn't tell because of the setting sun and darkening sky.

Unbeknownst to him, you were painting Lando's first win celebration. A huge smile on your face once you finished the details on his helmet.

The video and the painting + the human canvas ofc and the artist hugging the breathing canvas, were posted later that day. Lando didn't want to erase the painting, crying after you force-wiped the chemicals of his stained cheek.

You lived for memories like these.

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essentiallyleaf · 11 months

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day 20. cockwarming. with. jisoo.

1105 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, cockwarming, angst, i don’t even know anymore, possibly the coldest cockwarming fic to ever exist, so much angst and for what.

notes.

short and a little rushed. sounds just like every day of my life. exhaustedly, leaf.

You plop down on the bed, barely able to take your black dress pants off before the dizziness gets the best of you. Jisoo is there, laying still, facing away from you and towards the cloud-shielded moon outside of the open window, like she always is. You can’t really tell if she’s awake or not, and the alcohol certainly doesn’t help.

This must be what they mean when they talk about magnetic fields. We’re immersed in them all the time, but we can’t see it, something about a wavelength our eyes are not tuned to. It’s like even when it’s past your bedtime (which on a weekend night like tonight is at least three hours after your regular bedtime), the sky completely starless, when you zig-zag through the streets and keeping your balance requires a voluntary effort, when your white shirt has more than one almost fully dried Bordeaux stain on it, you don’t know why or how, but your red needle always points back home, back to her.

You always manage to find your way to your shared bed, well, shared right in this moment, but often, too often one could easily argue, the bed feels hollow and freezing as Jisoo’s in it alone. Maybe that’s why the first thing she does when you lie down on it, is take your strong arm and wrap it around her waist to hold her close and share some of your alcohol-boosted warmth, and keep her own arm over it as if to ask you to never let go, never leave her again. She’s awake. Your natural response is to use your other hand to brush her long, silky black hair and watch it flow through your fingers, but as she feels your breath caress her shoulders, she knows that you can’t promise much more than that.

This shouldn't work. Well, to be fair, it isn’t working. But throwing stuff away, whether it’s dropping old photos in the fireplace, or leaving an entire relationship behind you to possibly never see your special person again, that hurts. It’s not just about the value of it, no, if that was the case, if that thing you’re throwing away still brought value to you, then you wouldn't be getting rid of it, right? It’s about admitting that something went wrong along the road, that things didn’t work out, that a wrong turn was taken, and that maybe, you were the one who took it. So the only thing you can do is turn away, keep going down that road, and if you ever happen to look back in a moment of accidental lucidity, justify your own mistakes.

So Jisoo reaches back and starts rubbing the outer side of your naked thigh, slowly traveling up to your ass as you lay a trail of quick kisses on her shoulder. Once she starts fiddling with the hem of your boxers and pushing her own butt back towards you, you get the message. You take your underwear off and stroke your dick a couple times before her nightgown is hiked up and her cheeks fully envelop your length. Your pecks take a trip up to her neck while both of you start shifting your hips up and down, back and forth against one another’s, a couple of low moans leaving your mouth.

It was your fault, but what if it wasn’t? What if that girl, what was her name even, hadn’t asked you for a lighter? What if she hadn’t looked at you all night with those warm brown eyes, what if she hadn’t asked you for a ride home? Any of those would’ve fixed this. The nights of yelling at each other’s faces and the nights of dead silence, the feeling of unbridgeable distance even when holding hands, the cool air of beach days in the middle of August. Maybe invisible walls are the best solution in some cases, and fuck it if they break some people’s immersion, as long as you can see the sun rise in the distance, you can live with not being able to touch it.

Jisoo suddenly stops her motion just to raise her thigh a little, suggesting you to enter. You align yourself with her slit and penetrate her warmth, her slick coating easing you through her walls and quickly letting you bottom out inside her, but as soon as you try to retreat, she puts a hand on your hip, halting its movement. She just places her thigh back down and stays still for a few seconds. A few seconds that enclose some kind of understanding, or, a feeling of understanding, at the very least. Most of the times when you have a revelation, an epiphany, you have no idea what the fuck is being revealed to you, you only see the light bulb turn on. Your kisses get wetter and longer, traveling from her upper neck to her ear and to her jaw, your hand finds itself on her soft, perfectly sized mound. She starts contracting her abdominal muscles repeatedly and rhythmically, squeezing your shaft between her tight walls, your pelvis still fixed in its place. You see her skin glow more than usual under the faint moonlight, and you think you taste a little salt as your tongue brushes her cheek, which you can’t help but groan on every time Jisoo tenses around you.

Invisible walls are not meant to be broken. They’re meant to disengage, to discourage. What does it say about us when they manage to do what they’re meant to? Is it sad, disheartening? Does it speak about our sense of agency as a whole? What if you did something different, what if it was your fault? You can’t go back, so what can you do about it now? Another night of getting drunk, another night of having sex, in each other’s embrace but miles away.

Your hand feels up her thigh as hers reaches between your legs from the back and starts massaging your testicles. You can’t hold back anymore. Her abs contract once, twice. You stop counting, she feels too good. Your thigh wraps around hers as you cum inside, letting out multiple guttural moans right next to her ear. You drop load after load of white paint onto her walls and into her womb.

You think you hear a little sniffle. Again, the only response is to caress her hair and leave one long kiss on the back of her head. Not more. Sometimes we hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us. And if it’s true that opposites attract, then likes must also repel.

footnotes.

sorry if this is depressing. how can i help you get back to horny, the superior mood? lunatically, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #blackpink #jisoo #kim jisoo #blackpink jisoo #blackpink smut #jisoo smut #kim jisoo smut #blackpink jisoo smut

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turcott3 · 7 months

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off the table

charles leclerc x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, angst, kissing and fluff! (this is not edited apologies for any mistakes)

positions fics masterlist

~but i just wanna know is love completely off the table?~

your eyes fluttered open as the sun filled the las vegas hotel room. you roll to face away from the window and you’re met by a familiar sleeping face. the relationship you and charles had created was special but complex. you weren’t together. you’re primary relationship is sex and nights out together but it never extended beyond that. occasionally you received a grand prix invite, las vegas being one of them. he messed with your feelings often. one second it seems like he wants you and the other he’s leaning on a bar counter talking to another woman. you just let it happen because you wanted him, even if it does hurt you not knowing.

“good morning char.” you say quietly as the brunette stretches out and looks at you.

“good morning amour.” he smiles before getting up out of bed. you wanted to reach out and grab for him but you didn’t wanna push your limits. you yearned for him. all you wanted was to be his and his only, but it was starting to feel like too much to ask for. every day you’ve spent together, a bubble of anxiety grew in your chest.

“what time do we need to leave?” you call out.

“we have a few more hours no worries.” he smiles walking back into the bedroom and climbing back into bed, quickly nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“how many is a few more?” you giggle, scratching his scalp lightly.

“like four or something.” he says, his breath on your neck was hot and sent goosebumps all over your body.

“i need to get a shower okay?” you say and he pulls away after pressing a short kiss to your neck.

“okay, ill be here.” he smirks laying back on his side, scrolling on instagram. you enter the bathroom, grateful for the escape you just made. he made your mind spin. when he cuddles to you and kisses you, yet doesn’t care to want you is the mode confusing experience you’ve had. you let the warm water soak your body as you stood in your thoughts, tears pricking your eyelids. eventually you lost the fight and let the sobs wrack your body. all you wanted was answers. tearfully, you finished the shower and dried off, staring at your puffy face in the mirror.

“am i just not good enough?” you whisper to yourself. you walk out into the bedroom to grab clothes from your suitcase, avoiding looking in charles’ direction.

“y/n?”

“i’ll be out in a second.” you say shutting the door behind you. quickly, you slip on your clothes and hang your damp towels.

“y/n?” he asks again as you walk out.

“what?” you say, eyes still red and face still puffy.

“come sit, what is wrong?”

“i don’t know.” you lie sitting down next to him, not wanting to possibly ruin this trip.

“yes you do. tell me.” he pushes clearly wanting an answer.

“you confuse me charles. you confuse me so much and you’ve made me catch undeniably strong feelings for you but you confuse the fuck out of me. one second i think you may want me and then the next you’re talking to another woman. i’m just confused on why you wanted me here.” you express as lightly as possible.

“i do have feelings for you. i truly do y/n, i don’t want you to think that i don’t.”

“then why don’t you want me charles?”

“i do i just- im just so busy and stressed with the season i don’t want to have more things to keep up with. not that you don’t deserve the absolute best, i just don’t think i can give you what you deserve.”

“well i’m here right now aren’t i? i’ll come to every race, every event, everything. i am here for you and you only. i don’t want to get in your way so im trying my best to stay out of the way and id say ive done pretty well.” you add, tears falling once more and he nods.

“is love just not something you’re looking for right now? tell me baby.” you say as he pulls you into his lap, wiping your tears.

“it is. i don’t know why ive been pushing you away. you’re too good to me and i feel like if i can’t be 100% here then it won’t work and you deserve 100%.”

“i’m willing to try, only for you.” you say and he kisses you on the cheek.

“mon amour. you’re incredible.”

“so does this mean?”

“yes, it means you’re my girlfriend, i’m not even gonna ask i’m declaring it now.” he giggles and hugs you closely to his chest.

“look at us, newest couple on the grid.” you laugh.

“and arguably the best, sorry everyone else.” he says placing a light hand on your lower back.

“definitely the best.”

“carlos, this is my girlfriend y/n. you’ve met before but i figured i should re-introduce with the proper title.” charles giggles at his teammate.

“hello y/n, it’s great to re-meet you.” he smiles sticking his hand out to you which you gladly shake.

“it’s great to re-meet you too.”

“alright well baby, we got to get to it so, ill see you in a bit alright?”

“alright, good luck out there char.”

“thank you.” he smiles kissing you sweetly on the lips before walking off with his teammate.

“i was waiting for this day to come.” one of the staff says nudging you.

“really?” you giggle.

“yes, last race you weren’t there and he was like ‘i wish y/n was here, she makes me calm.’”

“how sweet.” you smile at the woman before she follows behind them.

guess love was never off the table.

sorry this is so short😭

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #turcs’ talk #f1 #f1 imagine

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milliesfishes · 3 months

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𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 (𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷'𝓽)𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭 request by my muse <3 @kayleigh--23

There was no doubt whatsoever about Billy's loyalty.

He was never the type of man to take what he had for granted, especially the people in his life. No, instead of letting go, Billy clung to his loved ones. He kept them close.

He'd confessed to you one lazy night under the stars when you were snuggled up to him under the jacket of his he'd laid over the two of you. He'd confessed that he never knew when he was going to lose someone next, and so while he had someone he held on tight.

You'd never had a problem feeling loved by him. He showed you through his time, his body, his words.

"Don't have much in the world darlin'," he whispered to you one morning as you watched the sunrise together. His jacket was back around your shoulders, swarthing your frame and keeping you warm. His hands framed your face. "But everythin' I have is yours."

He'd leave you little notes at your spot by the oak tree when he didn't have enough time to spend an evening with you. Sweet words scrawled in his careful handwriting. You kept them in a box under your bed along with other little missives you'd collected from him. A handkerchief he'd worn around his neck, the silver necklace with a heart on the chain he'd given you, dried flowers he'd picked that you'd pressed in your books.

You collected every bit of him you could, keeping a stilled, built version of Billy to yourself to hold while he was gone until he would reappear and warm it up again.

Never before had you had something that was wholly, utterly yours. He worked hard for you, toiling away under the sun for hours and coming to you sunkissed and utterly happy. You'd trace a finger along the freckles he gained during the day and kiss their path too. La-la-love.

Billy was employed currently by a man you'd met not but once, at a party that was said to be one of many he threw during the year. Ever the dutiful partner, Billy had brought you over, making sure you knew how pretty you looked and keeping a safe arm around you. It'd been loud, drunken, and not exactly your scene. But you loved spending time with him.

So the next party, you donned something pretty and arrived on his arm, determined to make the most of the night.

It all started out normal. You stayed under Billy's arm, smiling and laughing with his friends as he spoke with them. He would check in with you every now and then, kissing your temple.

The trouble began when Major Murphy came over to Billy, whispering something you couldn't hear to him. Billy frowned, shaking his head, but Murphy just gave him a look as he walked away.

You turned to Billy. "What's wrong?"

His jaw was clenched. "Nothin' baby, I just..." he looked over at something in the distance. "Just gotta do somethin'. C'mon."

He guided you to an area where a small crowd had gathered, leaving you at the front of it. It was a sort of open area, and you could see a setup with bottles on a fence and hanging from the rafters. Billy was at a table not too far from you, picking up a gun.

Immediately you realized what was happening. Your eyes widened.

To his credit, Billy put on a good show. He hit every target with ease, and you held your breath, able to feel his frustration from where you were.

The other partygoers cheered, and you cringed. This wasn't going to end well.

When he was finished, the shed was on fire and he was stalking away, pushing through the crowd. You tried to get to him, but it was futile, the barrage of people blocking your way to him.

You knew this was exactly what Billy didn't want- being treated as an act, a mere entertainment. Of course everyone wanted a piece of 'Billy the Kid'. But you knew better.

The Billy you knew didn't want to be an outlaw, but he'd adapted to the tough situations life had thrown him in. Your Billy was trying to escape the persona wanted posters pushed on him. Your Billy was rough around the edges but softened in the center, tracing hearts on your face after kissing you so sweet your head spun.

But that was the thing about that Billy being yours. Only you saw him.

You made your way through the crush of people, trying to spot him through everyone. Finally, you were ejected from the masses, and you looked around the room.

Relief brightened you as you saw him leaning against the wall, speaking to Mr. Riley's wife. You smiled, making your way over to him, knowing the woman was telling him how well he did, unknowingly adding to his guilt. It wasn't her fault, he was-

Kissing her.

And he wasn't pushing her away. After what felt like forever, he put his hands on her waist and they stopped. You turned away, tears stinging your eyes, heart rattling your ribs. The image was burnt into your eyes, and as you rushed away you couldn't shake it off.

Everything was a blur. You pushed past anyone in your way until the cool of the night air hit your face, reviving your senses. Your hands found the wall of the house, and you took great, heaving breaths as you tried to make sense of it.

Mr. Riley's wife was very beautiful. You bit your lip and tried not to cry as you thought about it. She was always dressed up so pretty in silks and satins that you wouldn't dare wear even though you could afford them. Ranch work was too messy for that.

You wondered if Billy was even looking for you. Likely not. He was preoccupied.

It was unclear how long you were out there before you heard your name being called. It was him. Of course it was him. He'd finally remembered you.

You stayed pressed against the wall, hoping he wouldn't see you but he did. "Baby," he greeted, smiling at you. "Where'd ya go off to? Been lookin'-"

Noticing your sad eyes, he cut himself off, frowning and tilting his head. "Whatsa matter darlin'?"

Breathing in once, you just looked up at him, and something went stiff in his eyes. He watched you for a moment, and you lifted your chin, looking up at him. "I saw you."

Instantly he recognized what you were talking about and he exhaled once through his nose, nodding and pursing his lips. "I see."

Your eyes filled with tears again, and this time you let one fall, looking up at him with such betrayal in your eyes that his lips parted. "Mrs. Riley..."

"Can I explain?" he asked gently, looking into your eyes. You didn't want to hear any kind of explanation, but he looked so sincere and you loved him so much that you nodded.

Billy hesitantly lifted his hand, silently asking permission before he touched your face. He held your chin with his fingers, making sure you were looking right at him when he said it. He took off his hat too so you could see his face.

"She was tellin' me she liked the show," he started, making sure you were still looking at him. "Still with me?" Billy waited until you nodded before continuing. "And mind ya, she's been drinkin'. Started tellin' me stuff 'bout her husband. Seems they ain't gettin' on. 'nd she kissed me. I didn't react as quickly as I'd 've liked."

You could see the sincerity in his eyes but you still wanted to cry. "You had your hands on her waist."

"Pushin' her away gently," he said, and you knew he was telling the truth. "She was drunk, didn't wanna upset her and cause a big scene."

What he was saying made sense, and you nodded, but the emotions were still festering in you. You sniffled, looking down and he nodded, seeming to understand. "Alright...alright, c'mere angel." Billy pulled you into his arms and let you sniffle into his shirt. "Yeah I know. Musta been hard for ya to see sweetheart, 'm sorry." He ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair. "I know if I saw ya kissin' another man I'd 'bout lose my mind...I'm so sorry baby."

You wrapped your arms around him, and he did the same, his hat still in his hand as he rubbed your back. "Could ya ever forgive me, sweet?"

Pulling back a little and looking up at him, you could see the pure want to be back in your good graces in his eyes. It melted you- he adored you so and you loved him back, more than anything, too much to let something silly that wasn't even his fault ruin it.

You nodded, and his arms twined around your waist, his hat in hand hitting your backside as he lifted you up and hugged you close.

As he held you tight he mumbled, "Maybe no more parties," into your hair and you nodded. Billy kissed the top of your head, then the side, burying his nose in your neck. "Politeness be damned, I want you more than I want to show off. Want you a whole hell of a lot more."

come talk about billy here!

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #william h bonney x you #william h bonney imagines #milliesfishes billy

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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HELL YEAH BABY 🌤️

my request is grumpy!reader not liking summer because it's so hot, everybody is sweaty, bad sunburns, and thigh chafing from being forced out of wearing jeans due to the heat. maybe she overheats easily and can get irritated/snappy and starts to feel sick when she gets too hot

and, of course, sunshine!Steve (who is summer incarnate) doing everything to change her mind: taking care of her to try to help with the things she doesn't like, showing her fun things to do that make her comfortable, doing everything he can to make her at least a little bit happy that it's bright and sunny and warm, etc.

love you emmy you're so talented and your brain is so big and sexy ok bye

myo! summer steve for u 🧡

“Y’know, you’ll feel better if you get in.”

Steve was in the pool - his pool - the back yard quiet for once, empty of kids who liked to raid the freezer for popsicles and argue over the one sun lounger that didn’t have the dodgy wheel.

Your boyfriend was in the water, had been all morning, hair damp, skin slick, shoulders tanned and nose freckling. Steve was slumped over the pool edge, the sun making the ripples reflect off of his face, honey coloured eyes and last nights stubble. His lips were shiny, chlorine flavoured, chest smelling like sunscreen and the perfume you’d left on his bedsheets.

“I don’t wanna,” you lied. You were perched in the shade, lingering in the gloom of the patio awning with a frown on your face that was barely concealed by the sunglasses you’d stolen from the boy. “It’s too hot.”

You were borderline miserable and happy to wallow in it, the Indiana sun making your skin prickle under its heat, too hot for jeans, too uncomfortably sticky for anything that made your thighs touch. You sighed, mournful.

“Baby,” Steve was soft with the way he said it, a placating thing that you knew too well. If you looked over at him, you knew you’d find him pouting. He was. “The water’ll help cool you down, c’mon.” He extended a hand, dripping dots onto the tiles that dried too quick.

“There’s no shade in the pool,” you argued feebly, but you were up and walking towards him anyway, scowling when the patio had the audacity to burn your bare feet. “M’gonna die.”

Steve tutted, staving off a grin. “Dramatic,” he muttered, eyes on you as you played with the tie on your dress, staring at the blue water in consideration. “I won’t let you die, promise.”

You were still frowning.

Steve tried again, “c’mon, honey. I’m getting real lonely here. Come play.”

Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his biceps flexed when he lifted a hand to push back his hair, ropes of muscle down his forearms. Maybe it was just because the sun was so fucking hot.

You pulled off your dress, cotton catching on your damp skin, uncaring where it landed. Bikini already underneath, peach coloured and almost too small to be appropriate, you made your way to the stairs. Steve grinned, triumphant, treading water as he watched you walk around the pool edge. A low whistle, flirtatious enough that it made you warmer still.

“There she is,” he called out, salacious in his tone. He made his way towards you, meeting you by the steps, hands held out for you to wade into. “Can’t believe you were gonna try n’ hide all that from me. Traitor.”

The pool water was cool on your skin even if Steve was warm. Slick body, rough hands, hard muscle, soft skin; you let him manhandle you until you were wrapped around him, allowing him to carry you through the water without complaint.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, face buried in the crook of his neck, embarrassed by his flirting, even after all those years.

You weren’t frowning anymore.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington one shot #steve baby blurb

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coffeeghoulie · 5 months

Text

Mushy May Day 9: Warming Them Up

Rain's always eager to get in the water as soon as he can, no matter how cold it is. Dew's there to warm him back up.

Thank you again to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together <3

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Dew's comfortable in bed, the lamp on the nightstand casting his room in soft gold light as the sun dips behind the horizon. It's spring, at least according to the calendar, just barely warm enough for the snow and ice to melt, revealing the budding green of life underneath.

It's still too cold for Dew's taste, but he had watched from his window all afternoon as Rain eagerly took his first swim of the year in the lake outside the Abbey. He's on his way back, and Dew knows exactly where Rain will end up.

He sighs, marking his place in the book he borrowed from Aether and setting it on the nightstand. He takes his gold wire reading glasses off and folds them, placing them on top of the well-loved paperback. He loves Rain, it had been a rocky start but he does love him now, but he does not miss the urge to get in the water at the first sign of spring.

Soon enough, the door creaks open, and Rain sticks his head in. Dew can hear the way his serrated teeth chatter from ten feet away. "Hey, D-Dewey," Rain says, long, elegant fingers curled around the doorframe.

"I've got a Rainsicle, don't I," Dew sighs endearingly, waving Rain in. "Now do you see why I made you promise last summer not to drag me out first thing after the thaw, pearl?"

Rain nods shakily, stepping into the warmth of Dew's bedroom and latching the door behind him. His hair is still soaking wet, plastered to his skin in blue-black waves, dripping down the back of what looks like Swiss's hoodie. His skin is bluer-tinged than normal, cheeks a dusky violet. "Felt nice while I was in," he shrugs.

"I bet. Stay there so you only drip in one spot." Dew stretches as he gets up out of bed. He ducks into his ensuite bathroom, digging out one of his softest towels from his closet. "Oh, and take those wet clothes off!" He calls.

"You just want to get in my pants, don't you?" Rain cackles, but there's the splat of wet fabric against the stone floor a moment later.

"I don't want you getting my bed all wet, you ass!"

"Oh, I beg to fucking differ, just the other night you wanted me to-"

"Ah! Shut it!" Dew calls, and they both burst into laughter. Dew steps out from the bathroom, towel in arm, but he doesn't go straight to the water ghoul. He heads to his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats, boxers and a well-worn t-shirt, tossing them on the bed. Only then does he turn to face Rain, who's standing naked in a small puddle of lake water, teeth still chattering. Dew kicks up his internal fire, shaking his head fondly as he holds out the towel. "C'mere, pearl."

Rain steps forward, sighing in relief as Dew wraps the towel around him. "Thank you, Dewey," he says, letting his eyes shut while Dew dries him off, careful of the sensitive gills that line his ribs and throat.

"Don't thank me," Dew hums, reaching up to running his fingers through Rain's waves. He kicks up his temperature even more, helping the water evaporate from his hair as he gently untangles it. "This is me making up for not coming out with you for a swim."

Rain leans into the hand running through his hair, a low purr vibrating in his chest. "You don't like the cold though. I know you'll come out with me once the water actually warms up."

"Yeah, give it a couple more weeks," Dew laughs. Once he's deemed Rain dry enough, he tosses the towel to soak up the puddle Rain had left on his floor before turning to grab the bundle of clothes he set on his bed. "Hands on my shoulders, pearl."

Rain obliges as Dew kneels at his feet, wrapping his cold fingers around Dew's knobby shoulders. Dew presses a kiss to the sharp line of Rain's hip as he helps him step into his boxers. Dew glances up, copper meeting cerulean, and he leans ever so slightly into one of Rain's arms, smiling fondly.

The sweats are quick to follow, and Rain sighs, long lashes fluttering shut as he starts warming up now that he's in dry clothes. Dew stands, kissing Rain's cheek as he moves to grab the t-shirt, but Rain beats him to it, shrugging it on.

He takes a deep breath, burying his aquiline nose in the sage green fabric. He glances up, a spark of mischief swimming in the blue of his irises. "Mount's been sleeping over lately?"

Dew scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully as he pulls back the covers on his bed. "Like Aeth hasn't been staying over with you?"

"Touche," Rain sighs, but he's smiling as Dew lays on his side, patting the open space in front of him. He climbs into bed, settling with his back flush against Dew's narrow chest. The fire ghoul pulls the covers up, making sure each blanket lays flat over them, fighting for a moment with the lining of his weighted blanket.

Dew can feel Rain's body shaking, less so than when he first stuck his head in, but he gives up on fighting with the weighted blanket to hook his arm around his waist. He nudges a skinny thigh between Rain's as he hauls him even closer.

"Thank you," Rain whispers, nuzzling into the pillows, getting as close to Dew as he physically can. Dew smiles, lips pressed to the cool skin on the back of the water ghoul's neck.

"Don't thank me, pearl," Dew hums, breathing in Rain's scent. He still smells like the lake, a little bit like ice, but under that he just smells like Rain, salt and tea tree. Dew's purr kicks up in his chest, rusty like an old motor, and he holds his Rain close.

"Love you, Dewey," Rain says, a wave of exhaustion hitting him now that he's warming up and comfortable.

Dew kisses the nape of his neck, nuzzling at still damp waves. "Love you too, pearl."

#i saw this prompt and went it has to be raindrop #i mean i've written a fic about rain cooling dew down it is time for the other way around #dot's writing #mushy may 2024 #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #raindrop #dew/rain

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the-broken-pen · 9 months

Text

“We absolutely should not be doing this,” the hero whispered, but there wasn’t any heat to it. The other end of the line rustled as the villain laughed.

“There are a lot of things we shouldn’t be doing. Namely, I shouldn’t commit felonies, you shouldn’t talk to a felon…” their friend trailed off.

This time, the hero was the one who laughed. Outside, a bird began to chirp with the sunrise, and the villain sighed.

“Time distance.”

“Time distance,” the hero agreed, and by god if the miles weren’t a wound in itself.

“You should sleep,” the villain murmured. The hero hummed.

“Probably, yeah.”

Neither of them hung up.

“If I promise to call tomorrow, will you go to bed, please? For me?”

The hero sniffed, eyes heavy as the sun peeked through their blinds.

“Promise?”

“Pinkie.”

The hero slumped backwards. “I won’t hang up though.”

The villain laughed, softly, with an affection the hero didn’t want to think about.

“I’ll do the heavy lifting, once again,” but the hero knew they smiled as they said. The line clicked off.

—————————

“Hey, Sunshine. Committing nefarious acts of kindness and good deeds, I take it?”

“Hey,” the hero was breathless, hand pressed against their side. It came back bloody.

Any humor dropped from the villain’s voice in an instant.

“You’re hurt.”

The hero managed a pathetic laugh, flinching.

“Just a little.”

“It doesn’t sound like a little.”

The hero eyed their wound, swallowing.

“Absolutely just a little.”

“It’s a good thing you’re the kid of a hero, because love, you absolutely suck at lying.”

The hero tried to pretend something didn’t warm in their stomach at the endearment.

“I have…bandages. And antiseptic. And some good old natural dirt to rub into it if all else fails.”

The villain sighed on the other end of the line, and the hero knew they were rubbing their brow. For some reason, despite the pain, it made the hero grin.

“I’m fine,” they promised, and when the villain stayed silent, they said it again. “I’m fine.”

“If you die I’ll be mad at you.”

“Fairly certain that is the wrong sentiment for a villain to have towards a hero—“

“Has the bleeding stopped?”

The hero slapped some tape around the edge of the gauze, blood still dried around the edges.

“Yes.”

The relief was palpable.

“Good. Go to bed.”

“You’ll call again?”

“Promise.”

The hero smiled.

“Pinkie.”

The villain hung up.

—————————

“You wouldn’t happen to have a flamethrower I could borrow, do you?”

The hero blinked, holding the phone away from their face for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, don’t be, I just need one,” the villain snorted, and a loud crash sounded in the background.

“What on earth are you doing?” Concern rolled in the hero’s gut. The villain laughed.

“You’re going to want plausible deniability sunshine.”

“Right,” they paused. “But why a flamethrower?”

“It has flames, it throws them, what else could I ask for in an object?”

“I can throw flames.” Even though the villain couldn’t see it, the hero let a spark flicker on their finger tips.

“And again,” the villain’s voice lowered. “What more could I ask for?”

The hero didn’t have a response to that, but the villain somehow, like they always did, knew that.

“Any bruises I should know about?”

“And what would you do about them? You live on the other side of the country,” the hero teased.

“I can steal a fighter jet in less than half an hour.”

The hero blinked at the seriousness in the villain’s tone. They laughed, nervously.

“Please don’t do that.”

The villain sighed. “You ruin my fun.”

“I haven’t arrested you, so I think that should get me brownie points.”

“You live on the other side of the country,” the villain parroted.

“I could get there faster than a fighter jet,” the hero said. The villain snorted again.

“Will you—“

“Call again? Pinkie.”

The hero smiled. “Promise.”

The villain hung up.

—————————

The hero picked up the phone on the third ring, smiling.

“Hey trouble maker, what’s—”

All they got in response was a pained wheeze.

“Villain,” the hero said, gut plummeting. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” the villain bit out, breath short. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

The villain gave something that was either a laugh or a sob.

“Mhm.”

“What’s going on,” their voice broke, and the villain fell silent.

“It’s going to be okay,” they murmured. And the hero knew.

Innately, in a painful, wretched way, they knew.

“My dad is there.”

Their dad, the superhero. Their dad, who had forbidden them from ever speaking.

Their dad, who wanted the villain, their villain, dead.

The villain made a quiet noise of ascent.

“I’m coming—”

“You won’t make it.”

The hero stilled.

“How bad is it?” Their hands were shaking. They couldn’t find their suit, why couldn’t they find their suit—

“Too fast for a fighter jet,” the villain tried, voice too light and wet with tears.

The hero slammed a drawer closer, throwing open the door to the basement, searching for something, anything.

“I can be faster,” they grit out, breathless. Their chest hurt.

“Not that fast.”

“Please,” the hero sobbed, and on the other end of the line, the villain did too.

“Don’t do this to me.”

“I don’t want to,” the villain swore. They coughed, and it was a deathly thing.

Something slammed in the background on the end of the line, and the hero’s fingers clenched around the phone.

“What was that?”

The villain let out a pained whine, phone crackling as they shifted away, before their voice came over the speaker again.

“I’ll call again tomorrow.”

The hero’s face was wet.

“Promise?”

The villain let out a small sob, but they still sounded like they were smiling, soft with affection.

“Pinkie.”

The hero didn’t mean to say what came next.

“I love you.”

The villain didn’t even pause, breath hitching. “I love you too.”

The line crackled.

“Sunshine, I need you to do something for me now,” the villain rasped, voice choked with pain and tears and love and fear. “I need you to hang up.”

The hero forgot how to breathe.

“No—”

“Please,” the villain took a sharp breath through their nose, and it sounded painful. “Just this once. I can’t do it this time.”

“Villain,” the hero began, but the villain cut them off as something crashed in the background once more.

It sounded like a building falling.

It sounded like the hero breaking, too.

“Sunshine,” the villain pleaded. “Just once. I’ll-I’ll call you back. I swear.”

They could both taste the lie.

The hero sniffed.

The villain sobbed.

And for the first time, the hero hung up.

The villain never called them back.

161 notes · View notes

maxiine · 10 months

Text

Sunshine

Enjoy this angst/fluff about neuvillette <3

_______________________________________________

Sitting quietly at one of the many cafes in Fontaine was a daily occurrence for you. You’d often enjoy a cup of tea whilst reading one of the many books you cherished- it was routine.

What wasn’t so common was for it to suddenly down pour amongst the tranquil afternoon you were just enjoying before.

You didn’t hate the rain- in fact you used to be so fond of it. That was before you moved here. Before you became so acquainted with a certain ludex.

With the realization of what the cause of the rain had been, you made haste to get to him quickly; Leaving some mora as a compensation for the inconvenience.

Striding swiftly towards the Opera Epiclese you were stopped by one of the many melusines that accompanied Fontain. She considerately offered you an umbrella whilst demanding you try not to make it habit to run in the rain unprotected. You smiled sweetly at her kind yet reprimanding comment and took the umbrella. With a quick thanks you continued onward- this time with some protection from the droplets that were falling from the sky. Oh how you hoped they weren’t falling from his beautiful eyes too.

Please please, don’t cry.

Finally you found him, standing silently outisde of the Opera Epiclese.

Letting the rain drench him whilst he looked completely lost in thought, hands slightly shaking at his side- you knew he wasn’t okay.

as if the rain hadn’t already made it so blatantly obvious.

You approached him carefully as to not startle him, making your presence known by calling his name softly from a few feet away.

“Neuvi?”

You finally made it beside him and couldn’t help but reach a little higher so your newly gifted umbrella could shield him from the rain.

He stiffened slightly at your nickname for him- almost like he was caught in some embarrassing moment.

He relaxed a bit before turning to face you and immediately he felt a warmness inside as if the sun had appeared in the sky again. Your eyes had glimmered so delightfully, showing so much compassion and concern in just the way you squinted slightly.

You smiled up at him to show him you were here so it was okay now.

‘Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon- don’t cry’

A chant you often sung when it would rain heavily. But nowadays you’d find it better for him to embrace the emotions he bares- for they are what make him part of humanity. He had always struggled with understanding human emotions yet he portrays them so well. However ’Dealing’ with them was the hard part of his learning process. But since you’ve been around, since becoming aquatinted- you have allowed him to feel these emotions to the fullest. Although One feeling you couldn’t bare to see him sulk in was his sadness.

The many trials he’s had to endure recently have become burdensome and have even started to have their effect on his mental being. Neuvillette is known for being passionate about his job and never letting his feelings affect what needs to be done; but once the job is done- once the doors are closed- he’s left with his thoughts and the hollowness in his stomach. What a suffocating feeling indeed.

“You’re going to catch a cold my dear.” He tells you whilst grabbing the umbrella from your hands and covering you both equally as he noticed you were only covering himself.

“And are you not?” You reply seriously with a sigh. “Please neuvi, let’s go home and get you dried and changed.” You reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yes dear. I am sorry you had to come find me like this.” He replies while stroking the back of your hand with his thumb ever so softly. He wore a sad expression that you couldn’t bare to see.

You reach up and caress his cheek softly, wiping away the tears or drops of rain- you did not know which.

The crashing tides were unforgiving in life, for everyone and everything; but no matter, you would always be there to save him before allowing him to drown in those waters- in those unrelenting thoughts.

“My love, do not apologize.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, gently and carefully. After doing so, You could taste the salty wetness on his cheek that confirmed he had indeed cried before you found him. Your heart broken at the thought.

You hold his face in your palm a little longer, gently rubbing his cheek. He leans in to your touch while slowly closing his eyes to embrace the feeling. His heart felt warm. Love and adoration danced inside his chest for you just from a simple gesture. As the rain came to a slow drizzle, the clouds started to part slightly revealing the sun ever so slightly.

He smiled.

You were the only one who was able to clear his mind so simply, you made him feel so safe, so heard. As long as he has known you, you have been the only person to have completely fill his heart. He never knew love and he never knew these emotions. It was all so foreign. But you’ve shown him everything, you’ve truly shown him the world and more.

You were the sunshine to his cloudy sky’s.

Oh how he loved you so.

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x you

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nat-1-whump · 7 months

Text

We need to give winged whumpees more love. Consider:

As hurt, we've got...

Sick Whumpee struggles to sleep because their wings make lying down tricky. This makes them extra miserable when they're already sick, tired, and desperately need to sleep but just can't get comfortable.

When Whumpee gets badly injured on the field, it takes the whole team to pin them down so they don't thrash around and make it worse while Caretaker tries to treat them. They've got people holding their legs, arms, and wings, and as much as Whumpee screams and writhes in pain, they don't let go. While they try to pull their wing from their teammate's grip, Whumpee accidentally dislocates it.

Whumper restrains Whumpee and rips their feathers out, one by one... Or all at once, if they are so inclined.

Whumpee gets caught in some kind of trap that covers their wings in gunk, effectively pinning them to the ground as they desperately try to escape from Whumper.

Sick with a horrible fever, Whumpee feels freezing cold no matter how much they're actually burning up. They keep trying to wrap their wings around themself for warmth, but Caretaker keeps stopping them by spreading their wings out. Whumpee groans as they try to pull their wings back. Caretaker whispers an apology, but they still can't let Whumpee risk making their fever worse.

Whumpee gets knocked out in midair, plummeting to the ground completely helpless. Or slamming into every tree branch, rooftop, or clothes line on the way down.

And as comfort, there's...

Caretaker gives Whumpee a warm bath and massages the dried blood out of their feathers. By the time they're done, Whumpee is fast asleep.

Caretaker repositions the pillows and blankets on Whumpee's bed into a sort of nest, trying to help Whumpee get as comfortable as they can. Afterwards, they bundle Whumpee in a blanket, wrapping Whumpee in their own wings first to make the blanket fit around them better and provide some extra warmth.

After Whumpee gets badly injured, Caretaker bandages up their wings, trying to soothe them whenever they cry out from the pain. Unable to fly, Whumpee gets increasingly impatient with themself over the following days. Caretaker notices their frustration and gently encourages them to take it easy and let their wings rest.

Whumpee uses their wings as a blanket for both themself and Caretaker as they snuggle together on the couch.

When Whumpee can barely walk due to their injuries, the weight of their wings only adds to the struggle. Though they encourage Whumpee to stay in bed and rest as much as possible, Caretaker is happy to wrap their arm around Whumpee's waist and help them around the house. Whumpee rests a wing on Caretaker's shoulders as they make their way to the kitchen for some warm food.

Caretaker asks Whumpee to hold still so they can draw their wings in their sketchbook. They say it's so Whumpee can see what their wings look like without trying to bend backwards in a mirror, but there's a silent understanding between the two that it's because they're both craving some time together. Whumpee starts to feel stiff from holding their wings out, but they can't help but smile a bit at the way Caretaker leans closer to watch the light move across their feathers. Though Whumpee had never seen their wings as anything particularly beautiful, they set off a sort of sparkle in Caretaker's eyes.

And maybe some wing-related dialogue, such as...

Whumper grinned, picking up a pair of wire cutters. The tool glinted in the flickering torch light. "Well, you've gone and flown a little too close to the sun, didn't you, Whumpee? Not to worry, though. You'll never fly again, when I'm through with you."

"Oh, why won't you sing for me, my beautiful songbird?" Whumper drawled as they ran a finger along Whumpee's throat. Whumpee only glared back. If it weren't for the muzzle, they would have spat on Whumper's shoes. They squirmed in their restraints, leather straps binding their wings close to their back.

"Oh, you poor thing... What happened to your wings? C'mere, let me look at them..." Caretaker pulled Whumpee into an embrace, grabbing their wings with gentle hands. Their breath hitched as they noticed that, under the tattered feathers, Whumpee's injuries were even worse than they thought.

Caretaker slapped sick Whumpee's cheek, trying to wake them up. "Hey, Whumpee, um. Listen, y-you're fever's getting worse and I just need to know... Whatever you are, do you go to a doctor or a vet?" They weren't exactly prepared for this winged stranger to show up on their doorstep half-dead. While they might have normally found their dilemma a bit comedic, right now it was hard to laugh. Whumpee desperately needed medical help, but they had no idea where to take them.

"Ngh-stop! Let go of my wings, or so help me I'll---" Whumpee's protests turned into a scream as Caretaker poured antiseptic onto a cloth and pressed it against their gaping wound. Whumpee passed out from the pain, falling limp with tears still streaming down their face. As their vision faded, they heard Caretaker's whispered apologies.

"Six months for the feathers to grow back?!" Whumpee's lower lip started to quiver. "B-but... I can't fly..." They took a wing in their hands, running their fingers along the bare, bloody skin where their feathers had been ripped out. Caretaker reached out to put a hand on Whumpee's shoulder, but Whumpee flinched back. A tear rolled down their cheek, stinging them as it landed right on an open cut on their wing. "Nonononono, th-there's gotta be something you can do! Anything! Please... I want my feathers back."

Just... Wings. Yeah.

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dustofthedailylife · 1 year

Text

Inked Farewells

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya x (gn!) Reader

Summary: They get killed and someone else gives you the letter they left you.

Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Major Character Death (they die - no su!cide!), mentions of blood

A/N: Fun fact, I actually made myself straight-up cry with the Alhaitham part when I wrote it ;_;

ALHAITHAM

It was already late in the day and through the thick gray clouds, that had been hanging over the sky all day already, you could faintly make out the setting sun. For some unknown reason, you had been in quite an anxious mood all day so you just tried to stay busy to keep your mind occupied.

Just as you were about to sit down to read, someone rang your doorbell and asked for your attention.

You expected it to be Alhaitham, considering how late it had already gotten. It was already way later than he’d usually come home from work. They must have kept him quite busy at the Akademiya today.

With a smile pulling at the corners of your lips you hurried to the door. But the person you found standing in front of it wasn’t Alhaitham.

The picture that painted itself in front of your eyes instead was something you never wished to see. A pang in your chest ignited all the nerves in your body simultaneously and filled you with dread.

Kaveh stood before you, his whole body trembling as he clutched an envelope tightly to his chest. His eyes were filled with a myriad of emotions, none of which were good. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes and his once-white shirt was now stained in a deep shade of crimson, along with his blood-soaked hands.

He helplessly scanned your face with a quivering bottom lip. Desperately searching your face for the words he wanted to express as if they were written there. But there was no need for him to say anything.

“He-” Kaveh began, choking on his own words and desperately holding back his own tears. “He wanted you t-to have this.”

With shaking hands, he handed you the envelope. The paper was equally stained with dried blood. Your name was written on it in an awfully familiar handwriting. Even and well-formed letters adorned the piece of paper. As you gazed at it in disbelief, your eyes began to fill with tears causing the letters to blur and become indistinguishable from one another.

“What happened?” You whispered, as you looked up at Kaveh, who harshly bit his lip as a silent tear streamed down his cheek. Deep down you already knew the answer, but you needed to hear it. To confirm it was the cold, hard truth.

“We were out on an expedition and–” Kaveh began before inhaling and exhaling shakily. “Suddenly we were surrounded by enemies –, I don’t remember what happened but there were so many… he sent me to get help while he fought alone, and I did but–” he paused as he swallowed thickly. “When I returned all the enemies were dead, but he– he had died as well.”

“This was the only thing he was holding in his hands. I believe he wrote it before he–” Kaveh pointed at the envelope in your hands before choking on his words once more with a quiet whimper.

You shook your head in denial, feeling how your bottom lip started to quiver and your chest became tighter. At that moment, as your knees gave away, and you dropped to the cold stone floor, all you could hear was your own heartbeat loudly thumping in your head and your own thoughts reciting a silent mantra over and over again.

No. No no no, this can’t be real.

A wave of unbelievable grief washed over you, numbing your senses as you let out an anguished and pained scream.

You clutched the envelope to your chest in despair hoping that the big, warm hands of Alhaitham would finally wake you from this nightmare. But you never woke, nor would you ever.

Because this wasn’t a dream. This was reality.

And the hands you longed for the most would never touch you again. The eyes you wanted to look at you were forever shut. And the voice you wished to hear had fallen silent for all eternity.

All you had left of him was the blood-stained letter you were holding in your hands at this very moment.

Between sobs, you shakily took it out of the envelope and started reading. Every word pierced your heart like dull knives, knowing it would be the last ones Alhaitham would ever address to you.

And the day he died, a part of you died with him.

To my Little Sprout, you always hated that nickname. However, I could never get enough of your reaction whenever I called you that. The way you always crinkled your nose and pouted always made my heart swell. It’s an image I have on my mind as of writing this right now as well. Anyway, as you know, I was never one for flowery words, so if you receive this letter, I’m dead. Please don’t blame Kaveh for my death. There was nothing he could have done to help or prevent it. I’ve lived a wonderful life and I have you to thank for that. You made every day worth living for and all I want to do with my remaining time now is address my last words to you. I die knowing I’ve been loved by you. That alone is more than I could have ever wished for. I want you to be happy and know that you made me the luckiest man alive. Albi*. Please live a happy and peaceful life. I know you can. You’ve always been stronger than me. I love you. I always did and always will. Forever Yours Alhaitham

(*) "albi" translates to "my heart" in Arabic.

CHILDE

It was a cold and stormy day in Snezhnaya and a few snowflakes had begun to fall. The clouds were hanging low and colored the entire sky in a dirty gray hue. Not an unusual thing at this time of year.

You were waiting at home for Ajax to return from his mission. He didn’t mention where exactly he went. He just said it was a short business trip and assured you that he would be back by the end of the week.

It was now Sunday and you had spent the day getting everything ready for his return including buying ingredients for his favorite dish. You got everything prepared and all you needed to do now was wait for him to get here.

As you were lost in thought the sound of the doorbell cut through your thoughts and you excitedly hurried to the door, almost knocking a chair over on the way.

Expecting Ajax you donned the widest smile you could possibly muster before opening the door.

However, spotting who was actually standing in front of the door made goosebumps erupt on your skin and the cold air that wafted in from outside wasn’t the cause of it. A tall white-haired man with a long expensive looking coat stood in front of your door. The right half of his face was entirely covered by a black and blue mask.

You were certain you had seen him before and soon recognized him as some government official who directly answered to the Tsaritsa herself. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would show up at your doorstep all of a sudden. Perhaps he had mistaken your house for someone else’s?

“Good evening.” He spoke in a low, bassy voice.

“Good evening, sir. How may I help?” You asked reluctantly.

He asked for your name, grabbing into his coat in search of something causing you to be even more on your guard, than you had already been. Kept a close eye on the area where his hand disappeared into his coat.

A gush of icy wind suddenly blew in your direction, pricking at your skin and causing you to shiver. Hugging your arms around your chest you watched how a few snowflakes got caught in the stranger’s hair.

He brought forth a blue envelope and looked at you with unwavering scrutiny. His presence was making you increasingly uneasy and as of now you still clue as to what he wanted. What was sure by now though, was that he definitely had the intention to ring your doorbell.

“Do you want to come in, sir?” you carefully inquired, stepping aside to gesture him in.

“No need. I don’t intend to stay for long.”

He glared down at the envelope in his hands before he redirected his gaze back at you with a still stern expression.

“Did he ever mention to you what his occupation was?” The stranger suddenly asked.

“N-no, never. He’s actually supposed to come home soon. So if you need anything from him I could –”

"No need.” He interrupted, pressing his lips together into a thin line, glancing at the envelope once more, before finally handing it to you.

He nodded once before turning around on his heel and walking away. He looked over his shoulder one final time before leaving your property, offering a brief “I’m sorry for your loss.” before disappearing into the snowstorm.

The howling of the wind, the rustling of snow falling to the ground, and the pounding of your own heartbeat were the only things audible.

Your eyes fixated on the letter bearing your name written in the familiar penmanship of your boyfriend.

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, knowing deep down that this would be the last thing you would ever receive from him. These were his final words to you. Never again would he walk through this door with that warm, cheerful smile of his or wrap his arms lovingly around you from behind.

Never in your life had you felt so alone and lost as you did at this moment. Engulfed by a sense of desolation and hopelessness you dropped to your knees. Screaming out in anguish at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face was the last thing you actively remembered doing. The desolate, snowy landscape of your homeland muffled your agony and swallowed it whole, offering you no solace. No one was able to hear it. No one but you. Alone.

My Love, there is something about me I had kept a secret all these years in order to keep you safe. Because the last thing I would ever wish for is bringing harm upon you. I will spare you the details of my occupation now as well for the same reason. But I just want you to know that I wasn’t just some ordinary toy seller. My occupation regularly involved dangerous missions. And if you receive this letter, it means one of these missions has successfully done its job. I will no longer be coming come to you, love. Please, do not look into the details of my passing. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I love you so much it physically hurts and the only thing I regret is no longer being able to come home to you. Please live a happy and fulfilling life. Do me this favor. In Love Ajax

KAEYA

As you were making your way back home from work, a member of the Knights of Favonius called out your name. With his hand raised and entirely breathless from the chase, he relayed a message from Jean herself - he informed you that she urgently wished to speak with you at the Headquarters.

Naturally, you wondered what the Knights could possibly want from you, so you promptly headed to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters after a brief stop at your home to change your clothes and set your bag down.

Weirdly enough Kaeya wasn't home yet either. You assumed he must be at the meeting as well and that was probably the reason you were being called to the Headquarters in the first place.

To your surprise, when you arrived at the Headquarters there seemed to be a huge turmoil in front of the building and many people were shouting something. But you couldn’t quite make out what all the ruckus was about.

You caught sight of Jean at the top of the stairs as you got closer. The moment her eyes met yours a knot of anxiety twisted inside of your chest. Her facial expression was unlike anything you had ever seen and made all your neck hairs stand on end.

With a nod she motioned for you to follow her into her office. You wordlessly complied, slowly making your way through the crowd. All eyes were fixed on you and you couldn’t help but feel even more uneasy than you already had prior.

What in Celestia had happened here and how exactly were you involved in all this? You weren’t a Knight of Favonius after all.

Jean shut the door behind you and almost immediately asked you to sit down. Her furrowed eyebrows and her solemn expression further increased the unease you felt.

You slowly sunk down onto the chair in front of her desk, your eyes nervously fixed on her. You weren’t sure what you were doing here and why Kaeya wasn’t here either. You had expected to find him here since he hadn’t been at home either.

Jean was standing in front of one of the bookshelves in the room with her back facing you and her arms crossed over her chest and looking like she was ringing for words.

“Are we waiting for Kaeya?” you inquired seeing as she didn’t make any moves to start talking on her own any time soon.

“Kaeya won’t come,” she replied curtly with a low voice, grabbing an envelope from the shelf in front of her.

“What do you mean?” You asked in confusion.

“What I mean is…” Jean inhaled and exhaled deeply before turning around to face you. Her eyes looked puffy and red. Tears glistened in their corners that she quickly tried to blink away to put her brave face back on. “Kaeya won’t come, because… because he won’t come back at all.”

A single tear rolled down Jean’s cheek and even though she wiped it away quickly, but it was too late. You saw. As you looked at her it was beginning to dawn on you what she was getting at. You understood what all the ruckus in front of the headquarter was about, why everyone fell silent when you passed them, and why the courier had been so eager to find you. And also – why Kaeya hadn’t been home yet.

You slumped further into the chair, your eyes widened in shock, your hand covering your open mouth. You felt like you were about to pass out and Jean seemed to sense it. She softly called out your name and walked over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“We found this letter addressed to you on his desk,” she explained, placing the letter in your hand with a sad smile. “The Abyss Order, they –”

“Please, Jean. I-I don’t want to know.” You quickly raised your hand in order to shut her up. You didn’t want to know how it happened. Your heart weighed heavy enough knowing it did. And just knowing that they found this letter on his desk meant he knew it was about to happen.

Why did he never speak to you about it?

With trembling hands, you broke the seal on the back of the envelope to take the letter out that was written in his beautiful penmanship. You could tell by just looking at it that he had taken his time to address these last words to you.

And through broken sobs and with tears streaming down your face you started reading.

To my precious snowflake, Jean will probably be giving you this letter, tell her I’m sorry for burdening her with that. I’m addressing this letter to you because I know what you’re going to think. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he talk to me? The answer is simple, my love. I knew this day would come sooner or later and I didn’t want to burden you, scare you or make you unhappy if I told you about it. I didn’t wish to taint what we had with this and instead just enjoy every minute I was allowed to spend with you to the fullest. Hey, don’t miss me too much, okay? But who am I kidding? Of course, you will. It’s me after all. Thank you for allowing me into your heart and giving my lost soul a place to call home. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I will forever love you. In Love Kaeya

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin angst #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader #🍁 dust writes

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borathae · 2 years

Text

↳ Index [Day 26 - Lipstick & Photography]

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Kinks: Switching, red lipstick, kissing, body worship, nippleplay, erotic photography, praise, tears, finger sucking, sexy possessiveness, marking, tattoos & piercings, black leather jackets, rough & passionate sex on the sofa, she rides him, overstimulation (m.receiving), creampie, squirting, the aftercare :(, the sexual tension in this is making me weak, also Jungkook is wet from being in the rain because that deserves a warning

Wordcount: 6.6k

a/n: i want him, need him, crave him. i also wanna state that this story controlled me, i will not apologize for the utter feralness however. enjoy besties ❤

“Kiss me.”

You are on your way home after a date at the cinema. The sky is crying cold rain and the small bus stop barely shields your bodies. The sun has set a long time ago, the wet streets reflect the millions of city lights. Red, greens, whites, oranges and blues. The most beautiful paintings are engraved on the streets, destined to disappear once the world dries up again.

“Kiss me”, Jungkook whispers, eyes glued to your lips and hands on your waist. He is standing by your side, resting his forehead against your temple.

You ignore him not because you want to, but because you feel way too shy to initiate his request. You are never that touchy in public.

“Please kiss me”, he begs, drawing closer until his lips brush against your cheek. They feel warm on your cold skin, forcing a shiver to run down your spine.

“The bus’s coming in two minutes”, you tell him.

“So kiss me in that time”, he says, pulling you closer by twisting a bundle of your coat.

You are so affected by him. If you weren’t still in public, you would have already given in. You have no idea why exactly he was as clingy as he was right now, but you won’t question him. You are so obsessed when he is like this.

“Let’s wait a little”, you say.

“How long?” Jungkook breathes, gazing at your lips. You are wearing red lipstick tonight and it’s been driving him insane. You look so beautiful with red lips.

“Until we’re home.”

“But that’s in twenty minutes.”

“You can do it.”

“No, I can’t.”

You turn your head.

He chases you instantly, eyes half-lidded and lips parted.

You move closer.

Jungkook moans softly, eyes falling closed.

“The bus’s here”, you whisper, breaking away.

Jungkook feels weak, barely getting on the bus.

There were no seats empty so you end up standing by the doors. Jungkook holds the pole above his head while you find your support by holding his waist. The people around you feel miniscule now that you are so close to each other, eyes locked with each other and lips almost touching. The bus begins moving, Jungkook barely sways, keeping you safe. The bus is quiet as people are either too tired to talk, listening to music or alone. Jungkook’s eyes race between yours, the colour of his skin changes with the city lights outside. Red, green, orange, pink, blue. He looks good in every single shade.

The bus stops, the people ebb and flow beside you. Jungkook and you need to draw closer as more people ended up on the bus than left.

Like this your noses are almost touching. Jungkook’s eyes lower, his fingers tighten around the pole. He could kiss you. You are so fucking close that you couldn’t even escape if he tried to. He could get a taste of you, feel your soft lips tremble as you lose yourself in his kiss. He would just have to tilt his head.

The bus stops again. People come and go. The density stops, but you don’t draw back. Jungkook twists his hands on the poles back and forth, arms tensing as he holds both of you when the bus drives off again. Your eyes are racing between his’, your fingers squeeze his waist.

Jungkook leans in not to kiss you but to whisper against your ear.

“I wanna do the worst things to you”, he rasps, making sure to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

You shiver, twisting the fabric of his coat.

“If we were alone, I’d already be kissing you until you’re dizzy”, he continues.

The bus stops again. People pass you as they leave and come. You lift your head, making your noses brush against each other.

Jungkook is carrying a nonchalant expression to other people, but to you it is soaked in a desire. Eyes darkened and lips glistening in temptation. You want him and he wants you, it is so obvious to you and him.

The bus drives off. You hold onto Jungkook tightly, using the moment to press yourself closer. Jungkook purrs softly, lips curling into a cocky smirk.

“It’s okay, hold onto me”, he whispers, tensing his arms to the point where the black leather of his jacket is stretching around his big arms.

Two more stops and then you can finally leave. Two more stops. It sounds like too much. And it is. You want him. Want him like lungs want air and plants want water.

The bus stops. A group of teens enters the bus, placing themselves around you and making you and him draw even closer together. Jungkook lets go of the pole with his left hand, wrapping his arm around your waist instead to press you against him. His fingers are gripping your side strongly, massaging you now that bodies shield you from the rest of the bus.

You are thankful for his strong grip because without it, you probably would have already fainted. He is way too sexy right now. What did you do to get him into such a state?

“The other people”, you whisper.

“What about them?” he retorts.

“Your hand.”

He squeezes your waist, sending heat straight to your pussy with it.

“I’m just making sure that you don’t fall”, he answers you nonchalantly.

“Fuck”, you press out, looking to the side because you can’t bear his eye contact anymore.

“Don’t”, he rasps, stubbing you with his nose.

“What?” you turn, almost touching lips.

He gazes at them then locks eyes with you. His pupils are dilated.

“Don’t look away.”

Holy fuck, you want him.

Jungkook squeezes your waist.

You gulp, looking at his lips.

The bus stops.

“It’s our stop”, you croak out and press yourself past him to leave the bus.

Jungkook leaves a little after you, stumbling because he had to fight his way outside.

You are walking just a few steps down the sidewalk, arms wrapped around your body and head lowered because of the rain.

“Baby”, Jungkook calls out and jogs after you.

You stop and turn.

His hair is already soaked, the rain is running down his face.

Jungkook arrives by your side, holding his hand over your head to shield you from the rain.

“Why did you run?” he asks.

“I didn’t. You’re messing with me.”

“I’m messing with you?”

Your eyes flit to his lips.

Jungkook’s eyes flit to your lips.

He steps closer, hopeful and naïve.

“Yeah”, you say, leaving him hanging by turning around and walking off.

“Fuck baby”, Jungkook laughs, chasing you. He wraps his fingers around your wrist, but doesn’t tug, “why are you playing so hard to get?”

“It’s raining.”

“Yeah, it’s not like you’re not already wet.”

You stop in shock, whipping around and almost making Jungkook collide with you. He draws closer, sneaking his hand to your lower back. Your hips touch.

There is a streetlamp above your heads. It soaks his skin in deep oranges and makes the water in his hair appear like a fiery sundown.

“Admit it”, he says, “your clothes aren’t the only thing soaked.”

He isn’t wrong.

“You’re fucking ridiculous”, you throw back.

Jungkook smirks, tilting his head to get to you better.

“Kiss me”, he breathes.

“Keep dreaming.”

“Kiss me please.”

“The rain’s getting worse.”

“I fucking want you.”

“We need to get home.”

“You drive me insane.”

You moan as he tugs you close.

Jungkook growls and claims your lips.

“Fuck.”

His lips are hot, the rain is cold. His body is burning up, your clothes feel ice cold. His hands knead your hips, while yours twist his soaked hair.

You should get out of this rain. You’ll catch a cold if you don’t. The weather’s too bad.

You pull him closer. Jungkook cups the nape of your neck.

People can see you. There is a group of people watching you out of a convenience store window. You should get out of this rain.

Your tongues tangle with each other. Your senses are blurry except for how it feels to kiss.

You should get out of this rain.

You step closer, pulling him down to you. He stumbles, arms wrapping around your middle to press you into him. You stumble, back arching. He chases you, holds you against him, kisses you passionately.

You should really get out of this fucking rain. The traffic has stopped next to you. Red light. People are staring. The windows of their cars are tinted, but their looks burn right through you.

“We should get outta this rain”, you tell him.

“You’re breaking my heart”, he rasps, gripping you desperately.

“You’ll survive.”

“Barely.”

“Go. It’s not that far.”

Your apartment is just down the block and up a small incline. The pathway is dark, but Jungkook is here to protect you. You realised that bad people don’t dare to come close to you when you are out with him at night. Dark hair, leather jacket and tattoos on his sculpted arms. He is keeping the bad away from you, giving it to you so fucking bad later in return.

He swears that much as he watches you unlock your apartment, eyes focused on the smudged lipstick on your lips. It got all messy when he kissed you, now covering parts of your chin and cheeks as well.

“Fuck, hurry up”, he stresses you, drawing closer by connecting his lips with your neck. They leave smudged lipstick stains all over your skin, but more than stains, they leave you with an unbearable ache between your legs. Jungkook sucks on your favourite spot, breaking away with a moan to whisper against your ear, “need you so bad, baby.”

“Fucking hell, Kook”, you get out and finally manage to open the door.

You stumble inside, Jungkook follows. He grabs your shoulders and twirls you, pressing you against the door.

“Thank fucking finally”, he says, leaning in to kiss you like he has never kissed you before.

“Kook”, you moan, falling into the sensation with all you have to offer. Thank fucking finally indeed. Holding back was almost impossible. You wrap your leg around his waist, Jungkook rocks his hips into you as if he was already making the roughest love to you. The lipstick smudges more and more. The floor is covered in rainwater continuously dripping from your bodies.

You should get a mop. Get out those shoes. Take off your wet clothes. You’ll catch a cold.

You pull him closer, taking his lip piercing between your teeth to tug on it roughly.

“Fuck baby”, Jungkook growls, knees buckling from the sensation.

You let go of it with a throaty giggle, claiming his lips in a sloppy kiss. Jungkook thrusts into you harshly, shaking the door and forcing a trembling moan out of you. He thrusts again, clothed boner rubbing right against your clothed clit. He is angry fucking you. You know that he is. He doesn’t even need to be inside you to let you know how deeply affected the attention to his piercing left him.

You break away, keeping him close with your hand tightly around a bundle of his black hair.

“Take your fucking clothes off and fuck me properly”, you rasp.

Jungkook growls, grinding his cock into your pussy.

“You drive me insane, fucking insane”, he rasps.

“Do it now. I hate waiting.”

“Fuck.”

Jungkook steps back and rips the jacket off his body, exposing the drenched turtleneck to your eyes. His nipples are rockhard under the material, his waist looks so small while his tits look so huge. His lower face is covered in your lipstick stains, his wet hair is hanging into his face in messy strands.

“You’re so fucking hot”, you tell him and rip your own coat off your body, dropping it on the ruined floor.

Jungkook stares at your tits then your lips. The red lipstick is almost gone. He wonders how ruined his face looks.

Next shoes. Heavy boots and big sneakers. They get discarded on the rug.

You step closer and push at his chest.

“Walk.”

“Where to?”

“Living room.”

The pants leave your bodies in the kitchen. Your shirts follow in the hallway to the living room. You stumble into the room lost in a kiss, hot bodies pressed against each other and lips busy with a desperate kiss. You lead the way, then Jungkook does, then you again. The TV almost gets knocked down, Jungkook catches it before it can happen, pulling you close to him as you squeal in surprise.

“Fuck, that was close”, he says, giving you a cute look, “sorry.”

“It’s fine, nothing happened”, you assure him.

“True”, he agrees and pulls you back into a kiss.

He wants to pull you on top of his lap as he falls on the couch. You stop him by pulling him back up by his briefs, breaking the kiss. Jungkook moans from the pressure on his balls, gripping your shoulders strongly.

“Take your boxers off. I’m not getting my couch wet”, you tell him.

“I’ll get it wet either way”, he throws back, knowing very well that you are aware what he means by that.

“You’re such a fucking-“, you stop, tugging his briefs down roughly.

“Shit, baby”, he gasps, hard cock springing free.

“Out. Now.”

“You’re so fucking hot.”

You wait for him until he stepped out of briefs, connecting your hand with his chest to push him onto the couch.

Jungkook falls with a moan, head slacking against the backrest and thighs spreading cockily. His hard cock slaps against his abs, filling your ears with the sound of it.

You take his cheeks between your fingers, placing your knee right between his thighs. Jungkook moans, eyes glued to your lips and hands gripping your hips.

“Do you finally wanna tell me why you’re acting the way you are?” you ask him.

“Your lipstick”, he says, drawing closer, “I wanna fucking eat you.”

“My lipstick?”

“I’ve got a thing for red lips, they drive me insane”, he says and licks his lips, “just look at my fucking cock. That’s how good you get me.”

You release his face, looking down at his cock.

“So hard.”

“So fucking hard.”

“Mhm”, you ruffle his wet hair, “stay here.”

“Where are you going?”

“Stay and don’t touch.”

You leave the living room without giving him a real answer.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out, gripping his own thighs as he lets his head fall back. He’s so fucking needy for you. Stripped and soaking wet. Lips throbbing from kissing and cock aching for a touch. He needs you to come back soon or else he’ll actually start fucking the pillows just to get some sort of relief.

You release him of his agony when you return to him five minutes later, dressed in a new set of panties but no bra and with fresh lipstick on your lips. You kept the smudged part.

"Holy fuck", Jungkook chokes out, hands gripping his inner thighs, "you look so fucking sexy."

"I know", you say, walking to him with swaying hips.

You claim the space atop his lap, making Jungkook straighten up just so he can be closer to you.

"You drive me insane", he rasps, hands on your ass and eyes racing over your lips.

"Mhhm", you hum, leaning down.

Jungkook thinks you'll kiss him but you end up tugging at his lip ring again, eliciting the throatiest moan from him. You release it, watching in delight as his lips pops back into shape. He licks them, eyes filled with yearning.

"Who are you, Kookie?" you ask him.

"Fucking yours", he rasps.

"Exactly, mine", you say, grabbing a bundle of his hair to tilt his head back.

Jungkook allows it with his eyes falling closed, revealing his thick neck to your eyes.

"My pretty boy", you rasp, connecting your red lips with his throat to mark it. His moan tickles your lips, motivating you to mark another part of his neck. From his throat all the way up to his ear. The kiss marks lose in opacity as the path continues.

Jungkook is panting, heart racing under your lips. His breath hitches when you take his ear piercing between your teeth to tug on it gently.

"My sexy", you whisper, sending shivers down his spine.

You sit back, keeping your unoccupied hand on his chest as you reapply the lipstick. Jungkook watches you, feeling short of breath.

"You're so hot", he whispers, gasping when you finish with a smack of your lips.

You give him a flirty smirk, lowering your lips to his chest. Jungkook inhales deeply, exhaling in a tremble.

"You've got the best tits", you say, "so strong and muscular."

You leave your lipstick marks everywhere but his nipples, riling him up to the point where he arches into your kiss. His skin prickles like crazy, his cock’s the hardest it has ever been.

You lift yourself again, showing him your smudged lips. There is barely any lipstick left, now covering his chest instead.

You lift your lipstick, giving him a playful smile.

Jungkook eyes it, then your face, gulping heavily.

You don’t place it against your lips, instead you connect it with his chest to frame his left nipple in a heart.

"Oh god baby, I’m so fucking hard. Why are you so sexy?" he groans, nipple feeling hypersensitive even without getting it touched.

"I don’t know", you say in a smirk.

You place the lipstick against his other pec, repeating the heart. Your artwork needs to be symmetrical, it looks prettier like that.

"I'm going insane, seriously insane", he pants, cock throbbing against his stomach.

You finish off the heart with a flick, closing the lipstick again. You place your hands right under his framed nipples, massaging his muscles slowly.

"You're so handsome", you praise, "your nipples are so pretty like this."

Jungkook tries to sit up to kiss you, but you push him back down again.

"Stay still, let me take a picture first", you say, pulling out your phone.

"Where did you even store that?" he asks, tensing his pecs for you.

"Up my ass", you joke, cracking him up.

You chuckle, snapping the prettiest pictures of his marked chest and framed nipples.

"Fuck, you’re so funny", he says, allowing you to roll his head to the side so you can snap a pic of his neck as well. He even tilts his head back, showing off his marks proudly.

"You are seriously so pretty Kookie. How come you’re so pretty?" you coo, lowering your phone.

Jungkook turns his head to you, giving you a droopy smile.

"You think so?" he asks

"Yeah, you are", you say, "now hold this."

You hand him the lipstick. Jungkook holds it with shaking fingers.

"Cover my lips", you say, puckering them just for him to use the lipstick on.

Jungkook however covers his own lips, never once breaking eye contact. You watch his gesture hungrily.

"What are you doing?" you ask, eyes following his fingers as they close the lipstick.

Jungkook cups your cheek and pulls you in for a passionate kiss. You chase him instantly, pussy dripping all over his thigh and fingers dimpling his tits. So that’s how he'll cover your lips.

Fuck.

Jungkook breaks the kiss when you are both breathless, lips pulsating and eyes barely wanting to open.

"Done", he rasps.

“You’re so fucking sexy, holy fuck”, you growl, pulling him into another kiss. The kind which knocks the air out of his lungs and which turns his legs into puddy even while sitting down. He is trying to tug you closer to his cock as you kiss, whimpering and moaning desperately while his tattooed hands grope your ass needily.

There is nothing better in the world than making out with you naked and wet from rain.

You break the kiss in need for air, releasing his lower lip from nibbling on it roughly. Jungkook is gasping for air, eyes barely staying open.

“Fuck”, he presses out, chasing you by rubbing his nose up and down your own.

“Yeah”, you agree, giving his cheeks a soft squeeze, “shit Kookie, I wanna eat you whole.”

You shimmy yourself down from his lap, connecting your lips with his upper tummy. You hold his waist for it, massaging it gently.

"Wanna eat you. Wanna nom on you", you chant between your kisses.

Jungkook sucks in air through his teeth, looking down at you with a racing heart. He knows exactly what that position means. You’ve been between his legs a hundred times before, licking and sucking his cock as if it was your only purpose.

“You’re the best, baby. The goddamn best”, he says.

“No. You are”, you throw back, outlining the ridges of his abs with hungry lips. He tastes so good, his skin feels so soft, “you’re so handsome. I love your stomach, love it so much.”

“Feels so good”, Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes and letting his head fall against the backrest. He parts his legs, skin tingling when you touch them with your left hand while your right continues holding his waist. He is so excited to get his cock sucked. So goddamn ready.

But it doesn’t come instantly. You kiss every inch of his stomach first, reapplying lipstick at least twice to make sure he knows you love him so much. Jungkook’s stomach is incredibly sensitive, so getting so much attention to it, left his cock dripping when it was finally time for you to take it in.

Jungkook moans, feeling your lips radiate warmth as they linger over his tip. He doesn’t dare to look down, loving the surprise of when you finally take him in.

“So pretty”, the words swirl against his cock, “you’re so handsome. I can’t get enough of you”, you add and move away.

Jungkook looks down, eyes burning in desperate tears.

You are buried in his left inner thigh, kissing and biting it lovingly.

“Fuck please”, he whispers under his breath, dropping his head back against the sofa cushion. He is so desperate. All he needs is for his cock to be touched. It hurts so much.

But it doesn’t come. Of course it doesn’t. First you cover every single inch of his muscular thighs with your lipstick marks and love bites. Jungkook swears he can’t decide if getting his stomach kissed was more torturous than getting his thighs kissed. Every inch of him feels so sensitive by now. Everything feels so good. Oh god, Jungkook feels like crying. It feels so good while his cock aches so much.

Your lips finally leave his thighs and yet his cock stays untouched.

“Please”, Jungkook begs, looking down at you with heavy eyes.

You look up from your phone, eyes looking oh so innocent and lips all smudged sexily.

“What?” you ask him, “I’m just taking some pictures. Your thighs are so sexy.”

“You’re such a tease”, he whines, head falling against the cushions in defeat.

“Why?”

He hears the camera click, cock throbbing in reaction. He loves being so exposed and naked for you and knowing that you are capturing his marked state for all eternity turns him on so much.

“Do you not like being my muse, mhm?” you ask him, moving the camera so you can capture his marked stomach.

Jungkook watches you with half-lidded eyes, tensing his abs for you. He wants to look his best on those pics. He wants you to get wet instantly whenever you look at them (you will).

“I love being your muse”, he says.

“Yeah? You’re the best muse. You’re so handsome, I don’t wanna stop taking pics of you”, you say and giggle so innocently that it almost sounds taunting to him.

“Fuck baby please hurry up”, he whines, giving you the biggest pout in the history of pouts.

You merely chuckle, “you’re cute.”

You drop back onto your knees, placing the phone aside for now to run your hands up and down your marked thighs. You make sure that every now and then your fingertips brush against his balls, resulting in Jungkook moaning each and every time.

“You’re my love”, you say, eyes burning in deep adoration, “my most handsome love.”

“Stop”, he whispers, lowering his eyes shyly.

“Why?” you laugh.

“Because…” he touches the side of his neck, “…just so.”

“You’re so cute”, you say, leaning in to kiss the most sensitive spot on his thigh.

He exhales shakily, heart fluttering not only from love but also from excitement. You are so close to his cock again.

“Please”, he tries with his voice barely audible.

“Mhhm, baby”, you mumble, biting him softly, “so yummy. You’ve got the juiciest thighs.”

“Babyyy”, he whines, squirming desperately, “please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me…”

“But I am touching you.”

“More”, he whimpers, bucking his hips up.

“Cute”, you gush, gazing at his leaking cock, “your cock’s so wet.”

“Wanna be touched please” he begs, parting his legs.

“You’re seriously so cute. What the hell?” you gush, “why are you so cute, Kookie? Mhm?” you say, shaking his thighs as you gaze up at him.

Jungkook hides his face behind his hands, “please just…fucking touch me”, he whines, burning up in giddiness.

“Cute.”

You finally grip his cock, making him moan and fuck your fist like a madman. Rough thrusts, sloppy and desperate. You let him move for five hard strokes and then you slam his hips back into the sofa, knocking a desperate grunt out of him

“Stay still”, you order him, squeezing his cock painfully.

Jungkook whimpers, “fuck you’re so cruel”, he croaks, looking at you with pleading eyes. They widen just seconds later as he can watch you lower your lipstick to his cock, “what are you- ah baby? What? Hah.”

He tenses his thighs, gripping the edge of the couch. You are scribbling on his cock. It tickles so much. It’s heaven. He can’t see what you are creating, but the sensation is fucking amazing.

“There we go”, you say, admiring your work with a playful smirk, “you look like such a pretty boy now.”

“What did you do? I wanna see”, he begs, tensing his thighs desperately.

You replace the lipstick with your phone.

“Hold still”, you order, focusing right on his cock. You hold it between your fingers, showing your art piece to the camera.

“You’re so fucking hot”, Jungkook whines, wetting his cockhead with spurts of precum. It turns him on so much to be your pretty little model. He really hopes that his cock looks good on pictures (it does).

“Yes, that’s it. You’re so wet. It comes out great, baby. Such a wet, pretty cock”, you praise, snapping another picture with his precum running all through your artwork.

You lower your phone, gazing at the picture with big heart eyes.

“So pretty”, you whisper.

“Show me please”, he begs, squirming needily.

You flip the phone.

“No”, Jungkook croaks, eyes filling with desperate tears, “baby, you’re fucking killing me.”

You wrote MINE on his cock. It sticks to his skin in deep red letters, marking him as your pretty property.

“Do you like it? I think it fits you”, you taunt.

“Fuck me please. Please I’m fucking begging you, fuck me”, he pleads, voice trembling in desperation.

“But Kookie the lipstick’s gonna smudge”, you taunt, giving him a faux pout.

“I don’t care, please please fuck me. Please.”

“You’re such a delight”, you say, dropping your phone in order to take off your panties. You make yourself comfortable on top of his lap, running your hands along his sculpted arms and shoulders.

Jungkook touches your hips instantly, holding them strongly. His eyes are gazing up at you, his chest is heaving up and down quickly.

“I’m so hard”, he croaks.

“I know”, you whisper, wiping his tears, “don’t cry baby. I’ve got you.”

“I want you so much.”

“Me too.”

“You drive me insane.”

“I know.”

“Baby please.”

“Hush, I’ve got you remember?”

“Yeah…”

You position yourself over his cock, riling him up when this makes your juices drip right onto his burning tip. He whimpers, biting down on his lower lip in concentration. He shouldn’t beg anymore. it comes off as desperate. You wouldn’t mind, you love him desperate, but Jungkook is too competitive for that.

You sink down, embracing him in your soaked pussy.

“Ah”, he lets out, closing his eyes.

“No”, you slip off of him again, forcing Jungkook to whimper, “open your eyes.”

He obeys, showing you his pleading eyes.

“Close them again and you can fuck your own fist tonight, understood?”

He nods his head.

“Say it.”

“Yes, understood.”

“Good”, you say, rewarding him by sinking down on him again.

Jungkook wants to make a sound but ends up blowing out air instead, eyelids fluttering and brows furrowing. It’s so difficult not to close his eyes. You’ve teased his cock for so long that the pussy you give him right now feels a hundred times more intense.

“Your cock’s the fucking best”, you say, bottoming out.

Jungkook whimpers, kicking the ground as he squirms underneath you. He tugs you closer easily, showing you just a quick glimpse of his true strength. He’s holding back for you, you know that he is. It turns you on so much. Your strong man, all puddy in your hands. You rock your hips slowly, caressing his shoulders while you get lost in his eyes.

“Isn’t that so much nicer when we can look at each other?” you taunt.

“It’s so hard”, he croaks, fluttering his lashes at you.

“I know, I know, but you’re a good boy aren’t you?”

“No”, he whimpers, “I’m a bad boy. Please can I close my eyes?” he begs.

“Uuuh….no”, you say, giving him no mercy as you begin bouncing on him.

Jungkook groans for as long as there is air in his lungs, looking at you with his eyes just slightly crossed. His fingers are dimpling your hips, his thighs are shaking. His lower face is all covered in smudged lipstick, the kiss marks on his neck and torso are starting to melt away from his burning up body.

“You look so fucking sexy baby”, you rasp, chasing the addicting electricity only his cock can send through your pussy, “don’t wanna have to miss out on those pretty eyes going all cross because of me.”

The position allows you to grind your clit against his pubic bone, adding just a whole other layer of pleasure to the ride. You speed up, chasing the friction and the girth of his cock. You must admit, you are just as desperate as Jungkook. Worshipping his body has reduced you to a sensitive mess. You can barely handle his cock, fighting your own urges to close your eyes.

“Please can I close my eyes?” he begs, spilling tears, “it’s so hard.”

“Fine. Good god, close your eyes”, you allow him, rolling your eyes.

“Thank you”, Jungkook closes them by rolling them back, arching his back afterwards, “ah! Holy fuck! Ah”, he moans loudly, hands slipping to your ass to squeeze it roughly. He’s falling and he doesn’t want to stop.

“That’s it. Moan for me, let me hear your slutty little voice”, you encourage him, writing your name to make sure that he remembers who fucks him like that. The lipstick mark may long be rubbed away from your ruthless fucking, but you will make sure that Jungkook remembers who owns that dick.

Jungkook moans louder, ending it with a disbelieved laugh and his body dropping back into the pillows. His thighs part, jiggling roughly each time you slam your ass down on him. His cock throbs, his balls feel like bursting.

“This feels so fucking good”, he laughs, arching his back again, “I feel fucking dizzy.”

“Yeah Kookie, feels like heaven. You’ve got the best dick. I’ve hit the jackpot.”

“Baby”, he croaks, opening his eyes just to spill his tears for you.

“Yeah I did Kookie baby. I’ve hit the motherfucking jackpot”, you taunt.

“Urgh gooood”, he groans, eyes rolling back and closing slowly.

“Tell me that I’m lucky”, you order him, squeezing his shoulders.

“What, what?” he barely brings out, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

You grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes. Jungkook gulps. you are so close all of a sudden, lips almost touching and breaths mixing.

“Tell me that I’m fucking lucky”, you whisper, hips stuttering on his cock.

“You’re…you’re lucky”, he stutters, body trembling.

You smirk, caressing his cheek with the back of your hand, “yeah I am. I’m the luckiest girl, Kookie baby.”

Jungkook finally understands what you wanted him to realise, eyes spilling tears of grateful pleasure.

“You’re lucky”, he squeaks out, gripping your hips bruisingly strong.

“Yeah I am. I’m so goddamn lucky”, you moan, smiling down at him with all the calm in the world while Jungkook feels like crumbling into a million pieces.

He sobs, “you’re fucking lucky!” he wails, throwing his head back, “I’m cumming”, he confesses and unable to wait for your permission, his body breaks under your aggressive bounces. He screams, voice bouncing off the walls and sounding like honey to your ears.

It wasn’t planned, but you still love it. Who knew that praise can get him that good.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it. Cum for me”, you encourage him, helping him ride out his high with angry rolls of your hips.

“Oh god, oh god, please slow”, he begs, shaking like crazy while it all feels like too much.

“No, take it. Take the fuck baby. You’re supposed to take it", you order, clenching around his squirting cock.

“Holy fuck! It’s so much”, he gets out and then sobs desperately, “please baby please.”

“Almost there, baby”, you say, pressing yourself close to him. Your clit is throbbing like crazy, your entire body aches from tensing it so much. Your thighs can barely keep up with your movements, begging for a break. But you can’t stop now, you have to overstimulate your handsome man while making yourself cum in the process.

“Hurts”, he croaks, “oh god please”, he begs, writhing underneath you. He fucking loves this just as much as he hates this.

“Look at me”, you order.

Jungkook can barely open his eyes, looking at you through a thick fog of complete ruin. You press your fingers against his lips. Jungkook opens up and lets you feed him two of them.

“Be quiet and take it”, you rasp, lulling your words.

He whimpers.

“Suck.”

He obeys, sucking on your fingers while spilling the hottest tears. His nose is all rosy and snotty, his wet hair is sticking to his face, his eyes are sparkling so much now that he is crying so much.

“There we go. See? It’s not that hard now, is it?”

He shakes his head, cock throbbing inside you. It burns so much, your every movement makes him want to pass out. It’s so good. He doesn’t want to stop even if his body screams at him to stop. He wraps his fingers around your wrist, squeezing it tightly, just so he can force your fingers deeper.

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum. You’re so sexy like this”, you growl, hips barely keeping up the rhythm.

Jungkook sucks harder, tensing his stomach just for you. He knows you’re getting off on his abs. It’s what’s been slowly driving insane too, next to all the other sexy shit you’re doing.

“Fuck, okay. I’m close”, you confess, eye contact faltering as your lids fight gravity, “Kookie baby.”

Jungkook slips off your fingers. They are covered in his lipstick and spit.

“Cum for me. Love that pussy when she cums”, he says, taking your fingers back inside to suck them off harshly.

“Shit. Baby”, you get out and then you fall into him as you fall into your high. The position is a little awkward as your fingers never truly leave his mouth and he ends up with you tugging down his jaw. Jungkook doesn’t mind, on the contrary, it’s so hot to get his mouth forced open by you as your pussy spasms around his cock. You whimper like crazy, shaking against his chest while your face is buried in his shoulder.

"Harder", you get out and Jungkook knows it's his time to act. He grabs your ass and broadens his stance to begin rutting up into your pussy. Going hard and rough.

“Aaah”, you wail, convulsing as he turns your orgasm from amazing to otherworldly.

Your fingers finally slip out of his mouth as you grab the edge of the backrest instead.

“You’re so sexy. So fucking sexy. Love that pussy. You’ve got the tightest pussy. Fuck, you’re cumming so hard”, he chants whatever comes into his mind, talking you through your high as his hips keep slamming into you.

And even after that, he keeps on fucking you. He fucks you until he fulfilled his promise of getting your couch wet, telling you the dirtiest things while you feel like the weakest, sex dumbest woman ever existing. You may be the queen of pussy game but Jungkook plays that stroke game like no other.

When he finally slows down and your bodies both finally stop spasming, you can hear your heartbeat in your head and feel it in your pussy.

Jungkook drops you back onto his thighs from holding you up, forcing his cock to bury itself into you one last time.

“Fuck”, you croak, tensing around him.

“Yeah”, he agrees, running his hands up and down your back to calm you down.

“What’s genuinely wrong with you?” you ask him, cracking him up.

“I told you that I wanna do the worst things to do you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but did you really have to go through with it?” you say, lifting your head to send him a look.

Sweat is running down your face and your tits are all covered from the lipstick transferring between your bodies. Jungkook is mirroring your state, sporting the dirtiest smirk ever.

“Course I did. You’ve been driving me crazy all day. You gotta learn what that gets you”, he says.

“I gotta learn?” you snort, nudging his chest, “keep talking like that and I’ll teach you a lesson in what your cocky tongue gets you.”

“Hopefully your pussy. Wet and creampied”, he throws back.

You gulp, eyes widening.

Jungkook laughs, letting his head fall against the couch.

“Just kidding, I gotta have at least an hour of rest now because phew”, he says, closing his eyes.

You rest against him, cradling his head in your left arm so you can play with his wet hair. You feel so content.

“We should shower”, you say.

“We should.”

“Also some tea would be nice. I swear to god, the rain’s gonna give us colds.”

“Tea it is.”

Jungkook runs his hands back to your ass, kneading it slowly but without any ulterior motive other than that he loves holding it when you calm down together.

“This also isn’t over.”

“Good. I’m counting on it. I’m staying overnight.”

“Obviously. You’re not gonna sleep though.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Good. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Is your pussy an option?”

“That’s the mandatory starter.”

Jungkook laughs.

You chuckle.

“Then I’ll take eggs for the main course.”

“I can do that.”

The rain’s picking up outside. A harsh wind throws it against your windows. You left the curtains open. You can see the tall radio tower of your district in the distance. The red light at the top is distorted because of the rain.

You close your eyes.

You can't ever look at the colour red the same way.

Not after tonight.

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