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confessionbrain-writings · 2 years ago

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Lavender Haze - Henry Cavill - (Grand Suite part five)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Warnings: Throughout this miniseries there will be 18+ content so minors DNI!

Word count: approx. 2,1k

A/N: Hi there lovelies and welcome to my new followers! Thank you all for the nice comments and reblogs. 🤗 So here is part five of Grand Suite. I suggest you read the other chapters before reading this. You can find the other chapters right here -> Masterlist Grand Suite🔥 I hope you enjoy!

After your hot, intimate shower session and the primal pounding against the hotel door, Henry had been very gentle while cleaning you up and wrapped you in the soft and fluffy bathrobe.

Your head was still buzzing and you hummed content when you laid down. Feeling like the bed pulled you in a soft and comfortable embrace, almost swallowing you whole. Looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows you watched how the sun had set, causing the sky to burst out in a palette of blushy pink, golden orange and a mix of violet and lilac. Gods, the sight of it was stunning.

Your eyes glided from the marvelous view outside to the detached bathtub which was placed a few feet from the bed. Oh how that bath looked amazing. You could easily picture yourself bathing in it. Maybe with some scented candles while reading a nice book, a comforting lo-fi playlist on in the background while the warm water and bubbles caressed your body. Or even better, laying in the bath against Henry’s chest while he would read to you with his deep voice and tracing invisible patterns on your skin. The corner of your lip curled up at the memory of feeling his chest against your back.

“A penny for your thoughts.” Henry’s deep voice made you snap out of your daydream and you couldn’t help your chest from rising when you took in a deep breath, eyes glued to him.

Would you ever get used to him? Every time you looked at him it was like an electric shock jolted through your body.

He was also dressed in the white robe but he had loosely wrapped the belt around his waist, exposing his well muscled pecs. And then that forehead curl.. that cuntpuddling cursing curl was adorning his face again and you could’ve sworn that the electric shock shot straight to your lower stomach.

You swallowed as you answered him. “I actually was just admiring the stunning sky and then fantasized about that very inviting bathtub.”

He followed your gaze and nodded. “That bath is very inviting indeed but I have to admit that I haven’t used it yet.”

Your brows shot up in surprise, “you haven’t? That’s a shame.”

He chuckled and laid down on the bed next to you. Moving over onto your side you popped your head on your hand and asked. “How long have you been here? And do you own this place?”

He mirrored your position and answered. “I am here because we’re wrapping up season three of The Witcher and working out the press tour schedule. And no, I do not own this place. My management arranged this ridiculously big place but apparently it was this or a one-bed bedroom and not to be posh but I prefer this.”

You nodded eagerly. “I can’t wait for season three! What are you exactly doing now wrapping up? When will the trailer be out? And are you planning on filming season four?”

“Well, we’re recording some voice-overs for the scenes where the sound is a bit unclear but furthermore it’s all pretty much finished. I don’t have the exact date for when the trailer will be released but it will be soon and about season four, I’m afraid I can’t say anything about it.”

“Mmm,” you pursed your lips. “Can I somehow persuade you?”

You let your finger glide over the exposed skin of his chest and looked up at him from underneath your lashes. He grinned and licked his lips.

“I’m afraid not. But you can definitely try.” Your lips curved up into a slight smile.

“How long are you staying here? Will you be leaving when you wrap up? What will your next project be?”

He furrowed his brows and mockingly said, “so many questions.”

You smiled shyly. “I’m sorry, I’m just curious.”

“Don’t worry darling. I’m just teasing.” You smiled as your heart fluttered how he called you darling, again.

“To answer your questions- I will be here for another month and then I will be leaving for my next project where I, again, can’t say anything about.”

Opening you mouth to ask another question but were interrupted when Henry’s hand shot to your mouth.

“My turn.”

The warmth of his palm seeped through your skin causing a shudder to run down your spine as you grinned and nodded.

“What is you favorite color?”

You hummed but answered in a heartbeat. “Sunset orange, just like the sky right now.”

“Well that was fast,” he chuckled, following your gaze to watch the colorful sky burst with all these lovely shades and nodded in understanding.

“What’s yours?” You asked and brought your gaze back to him.

The warm and beautiful tones of the sunset sky casted its light, highlighting Henry’s features. His sharp stubble-covered jawline, the shape of his kissable lips and his ocean blue eyes which seemed to illuminate even more due the contrasting hues. This man was utterly stunning and outright gorgeous. And he was laying next to you, asking about your favorite color. It’s was still like you were dreaming but at the same time it felt so familiar, comfortable and just.. nice, as if you knew him for way longer than just the few hours you’ve spent together.

“I think I go for green,” he started while he brought his gaze back to yours, “and to be specific I think it’s called ‘hunter green’ just like the shade of your eyes.”

Heat started to rush to your cheeks while you snorted. “How cheesy,”

“Well, it may be cheesy but it’s true.” He flicked your nose which made you giggle as he continued.

“Talking about cheesy, what is your favorite food?”

“Mmm.. I really enjoy Italian food and in town there is this restaurant which has the best pizza’s ever! The owner Mario, obviously from Italy, makes them with so much love and care and I know it sounds weird but you can really taste it. Besides that actually anything Italian makes my mouth water, but if I have to choose I would go for Mario’s pizza.”

“Sounds pretty good, what’s your go-to pizza?”

“Margherita for sure.”

“Really? I would’ve thought you’d be this girl who likes extra’s on her pizza.”

His comment made you gasp and you smacked him playfully on the chest pretending to be insulted.

“I do like some extra basil on my pizza but besides that I would like to keep it basic. No need for extra or other ingredients. When you taste it you will definitely understand.”

He was quiet for a moment and studied your face. Your heart beat started to rise again as you felt like he kept you hostage with his stare. Damn, those piercing eyes.. You couldn’t help when you felt the heat between your legs start to lit up again.

“I have an idea,” he started and tugged a loose strand behind your ear, “let’s order that pizza, I could use some food right now, don’t you?”

Before you could answer your stomach growled in response which made the both of you laugh. You were hungry, especially after you skipped your lunch-break at work due the peak hour and the leftover mess of the bachelor parties which still needed to be cleaned up. And after Henry came around making you hungry for something else, but now you could indeed use some food and the thought of your favorite pizza almost made you drool.

“You know what, let me order that pizza so you can pick out a movie.” You suggested.

He flashed his fangs when he smiled. “I like that but I have even a better idea. What about we eat that pizza in the bath and then watch a movie.”

Your eyes widened in excitement. “Deal.”

—

Before you knew it the bathtub was filled with lavender scented bubbles which tickled your skin while the two of you enjoyed the rich and delicious flavor of Mario’s Margherita.

Henry took another bite, closed his eyes and moaned with his mouth full. “Twhis is sow gwood! I can rewly taste the lowve.”

Your jaw started to strain slightly from all the times he made you smile. Glancing at him enjoying the pizza while sharing a nice and warm bath, his big frame filling most of the tub and even though it emphasized his posture it also made him very cute.

The conversation between you kept flowing so easily. You talked about your lives, work, family and friends and interests. And even though you sort-of knew him thanks to watching the endless interviews and seeing him on-screen, he somehow still surprised you with his pure and honest personality. You really enjoyed seeing and discovering this other side of Henry, especially when you talked about fantasy books, the way he passionately talked about a few of his favorites made your heart warm.

Thanks to the comfortable temperature of the water and your now full stomach you felt satisfied and very content. You slid down a bit further so the water covered your shoulders all the way up to your chin while you leaned your head back and switching your gaze between him and the one-million-dollar-view of the city.

He stared right back at you and even though a silence stretched between you it wasn’t awkward. It was just.. pleasant. The sky outside now turning into a deeper azure shade, heading towards a midnight blue.

After a moment he spoke again. “Do you wanna watch the movie we’ve talked about?”

“Yes, I would like that.” With those words the both of you got up. Henry was very keen on helping you step out of the bathtub and drying you off. You swallowed the lump in your throat as he toweled you down, taking extra time and care on your ass and breasts. The movement making your nipples harder as you felt your blood heath again, or was it because you just got out of a warm bath with a hot guy? Probably both.

Once completely dry Henry helped you in your robe again and quickly put on his own. You turned around to make your way towards the bed but were pulled back when Henry grabbed your wrist and gave a hard tug, making you stumble back and in a blink he had you lifted up bridal style and grinned wickedly.

“Allow me.”

You mirrored his grin and cocked a brow. “Do I have a choice?”

Henry’s grin turned into a smirk. A deep hum vibrated through his chest as he walked you back to the bed. “No, you don’t.”

Biting your lip you tried to keep your breathing and heart beat at ease but somehow he seemed to have this talent to increase it with just a few words or touches. Not that you minded tho, not even in the slightest.

He gently laid you down on the bed and immediately hovered over you, placing his knees on either side of you and leaned forward, his face so close to yours that your lips almost touched.

“I have one more question,” he said softly and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. Slowly descending to the side of your neck, down your collarbone as you asked.

“And that question is?”

“Are you ticklish?” Pausing his hand when he reached your sternum, he looked at you. It wouldn’t surprise you if he felt your pulse under his touch as you heart beat aggressively against your ribs.

You licked your lips and took in a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No.”

He tilted his head and tutted. “You’re a bad liar, Joanne.”

You couldn’t suppress the squeal which bubbled its way out of your throat. “I-“

Before you could finish your sentence he had his hands placed on your waist, squeezing and tickling your sides as you helplessly moved underneath him. Laughter escaped in short breaths as you tried to catch his hands.

“Hen— Henry— I— ah— stop I can��t—“ you begged, trying to form a sentence but failed.

“You know the word, darling,” his said as he swatted your hands away and continued his torment.

“Ah! Plea— Henry— okay please!” You managed to get out and he paused.

“Say that again.” His voice now and octave lower as he watched you hungrily.

Panting your repeated, “I said… please.”

His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed and leaned in. Your breath hitched and suddenly the playful tension morphed into another kind of tension which made your skin burst out in goosebumps.

“Again.” He commanded and you happily obliged.

“Please, Henry.” The word leaving your lips in a whisper.

“I love to hear you say that.” He huskily said and pressed his lips to yours.

I would love to hear what you think, thanks to those who left me a message, I appreciate it a lot!

Taglist (some links don't seem to work): @lizzystuffsthings @eldarwen333 @ysmmsy @astheskycries @daybreak96 @death-unbecomes-you @lelelululeahleah @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @greensleeves888 @justduckingaround12 @cricket66 @summersong69 @kebabgirl67 @identity2212 @leigh70 @kingliam2019 @theworldwonder @just-me-viktoria @foxyjwls007 @lysarria @gummydummy19 @enchantedbytomandhenry @sofiebstar @raccoon-eyed-rebel @bishhh2003 @daybreak96 @sunshine96 @evansabove1981 @teamfan7asy @midnight-stranger @eviesmith1810 @geralts-yenn

#henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill #henry x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut

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autumnalwalker · 2 years ago

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Find The Word Tag

Thank you for the tag, @druidx.

My words to find were courage, communication (or comms), consequence, & community.

Passing the tag to @elshells, @dragonedged-if, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @kaiusvnoir, and an open tag for whomever.

Your words shall be dream, alteration, soon, & up.

Courage: Empty Names side story - There Are No Dogs At The Dog Park

Sarah peeks out of her room, still disoriented in spite of Gita telling her what to expect yesterday. It’s one thing to be told that you’re going to black out and wake up in an unfamiliar room, but it’s a whole other bea- a whole other thing to actually have it happen. At least there had been a shower at hand and all her clothes on a hanger.

She’d been afraid to look in the mirror at first but once she’d worked up the courage to do so she found she was still her. Maybe tired despite sleeping past noon and disheveled with a few light scrapes and bruises, but otherwise none the worse for the wear. Easy enough to believe the hazy memories of last night really had been a dream.

Communication: Empty Names - 12 - Houseguests

The process of Jero gliding xyr hands with proportionally too-long fingers over each chrysalis to cause it to contract into a humanoid shape, working in the details of a unique individual’s features, and then turning the skin-like outer shell inside out to reveal the real skin and eyes and hair and mouth and other such outward-facing anatomy expected of a person takes several minutes apiece. Grotesque as Ashan finds the last step to watch, he cannot help but notice that for all her earlier apparent squeamishness during yesterday’s mission Lacuna’s expression is never anything less than fascinated. While he has no idea what sort of mental notes she might be taking, Ashan’s own analysis is frustratingly elusive. As obvious as it is that there is something magical happening, he detects nary a trace of transmutation or necromancy, or even any other of the less likely major disciplines he is aware of. Only a tenuous mental connection that should barely be enough for communication, much less physical alterations.

Consequence: Empty Names - 11 - Afterparty

“I notice you didn’t mention Eris,” his friend says after a few bites of their own meal.

“Muscles? What’s there to say? Every team needs its resident brute and she fits the role. Big, simple, strong, durable, and resorts to physical force at every opportunity without thinking the consequences through. But, as they say, ‘when all you have is a hammer…’” He traces a ring around the apple’s stem with a finger and then rips out the core with one tug. “It’s cute though how protective she gets of the techie,” he continues as he tosses the de-cored ring of fruit to his friend. “Pound of gold says the two of them are sleeping together by the end of the year if they’re not already. Muscles will probably be obsolete once the other two come into their own, but she’s a good shield until then and - as we’ve seen - putting her in danger’s a good way to motivate the techie. Not that you would ever do that intentionally of course.”

His friend pauses, apple halfway to their mouth, and gives him a flat look.

“And not that I would either, don’t worry,” he assures them while lazily swinging the apple core by its stem. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll be going into the field with them again anytime soon.”

Community: The Archivist's Journal, Day 277

Beyond the interactions with the family, just being out and about in the Village and taking part in the communal preparations turned out to be as much a mental balm as a visit to the overlook would have been. I’ve said before that I’m not really sure how to be a part of a community, and I’m still not, but I think this might have been a step in that direction. I had a moment where it suddenly registered that most of the people I found myself talking to or even just passing by throughout the day I found familiar despite not interacting with them directly on a regular basis. Some of them, I even remembered their names. That probably doesn’t sound like much, but for me… well… the moment passed when Cass asked me why I had suddenly stopped and seemed to be tearing up.

#tag game #find the word tag #manuscript search tag #writing tag games #my writing #writeblr #Empty Names #The Archivist's Journal

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

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0X1=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You were one and he made you both zero. He has it all, a stable life, all that money, a wife lined up, and your body as his drug, him coming back for hit after hit. They called you a bad influence. You called yourself Jeon Jungkook's ex.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; angst; cheating; stereotyping of tattoos; reader is verbally abused by JK's wealthy parents; JK and reader are foolish, wounded animals and act accordingly; rough hate sex (fem reader, biting / marking / scratching, f and m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - exes, tattooed, rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader, ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK's best friend

–

now playing – 0X1=LOVESONG (i know i love you) by txt ft. pH-1, Woodie Gochild, Seori

"I hate you."

"Join the club. Current members, me."

He narrowed his eyes and tossed his keys onto the table next to the door, kicking off his sneakers.

"We gonna fuck or what?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You tell me you hate me and then you want to fuck?"

"Stranger things have happened. I could tell you I love you."

You made a gagging noise. "Disgusting."

He pretended to be shocked. "How could you say such a thing?"

You slammed the door shut and walked past him, not saying anything. You heard him stride behind you, following to your bedroom.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Right, and I'm a dog. We done lying now?"

"You are a dog," you replied, falling onto the bed.

His head popped into view, long black hair hanging down, half of it pinned back to reveal his undercut and two dangling black earrings on his right ear.

"You fuck dogs? Nasty. I'm not into bestiality, sorry."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Shut the fuck up, Jungkook."

Jeon Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, adjusting his black turtleneck by hooking a finger on the collar and sliding it from side to side, the small tattoos on his knuckles and fingers dancing with the action.

"Why are you stressed like a nun?"

He clicked his tongue. "Her idea of getting freaky was trying to chew my neck off. Went full piranha on me."

You snorted. "Maybe you deserve it. Would have saved me the trouble."

"Ha, ha, very funny."

He glared at you and you glared back from the bed.

"So, how was fucking my best friend?" he snapped.

You scoffed. "I didn't fuck Taehyung. I told you already."

"That's not what he said."

"So what? I've never seen his dick or had it near my pussy. If he wants to make up shit, that's his prerogative."

Jungkook didn't look like he believed you, but you weren't the one cheating on your girlfriend with your ex, so it wasn't something you cared about. He narrowed his eyes.

"Swear."

"On what?" you shot back. "Your right nut?"

"Your life."

You snorted. "Well apparently to you, that ain't worth shit."

He was reaching for the bottom of his turtleneck and pulling it up and over his head. You felt a tinge of annoyance, seeing the dark, spotted bites on his side and shoulder. He yanked the article of clothing over his head and you spied the one on his neck, a blotted, messy patch of red-purple. It was ugly on his pretty tan skin.

You could do better.

"Your girlfriend know the meaning of sexy?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"That's not what she or your parents think."

"She and my parents can suck each other's dicks."

"Didn't know you liked dick. Guess that's why we didn't work out."

He tossed his turtleneck aside and growled, crawling onto the bed. Large, powerful, shoulders flexing, copious black tattoos covering his right arm and shoulder, a full sleeve. On the inside of his right bicep was a skull with a knife in its head.

You picked that one, a long time ago.

You looked into his eyes.

He had noticed you glancing at it.

She's ruining your life! Look at you! Tattoos all over your arm and hand! How could you get these ugly things?

Jungkook didn't say anything. He just grabbed your arm and started yanking your clothes off, just like how you grabbed his pants and started pulling them off his body, throwing them violently aside.

Don't you dare speak to our son ever again, you good-for-nothing whore. You think we wouldn't notice your poisonous influence sullying him? It took us months to find a nice, sensible girl willing to put up with your mistakes!

Hands and skin and teeth and hate, tumbling onto the covers, the taste of his flesh on your tongue and his cologne attacking your nose, his large hands gripping your soft thighs, pushing them apart, looking down into those chocolate eyes, the voices melding together, arguments, tirades, chaos, a fucking mess of you biting your tongue while Jungkook stood there and did nothing to defend you.

I hate you so fucking much, Jungkook!

And calling my parents dogs licking the shit off countryside roads is any better? The fuck is wrong with you?!

They were eating me alive in there and you said nothing! Absolutely nothing! I'd go to hell and back for you and you couldn't even say a single fucking word!

You were in hell. You came back.

And now you were in hell again.

"Damn, she must be fucking horrible at making you feel good if you keep coming to me."

Jungkook rolled his eyes and you clamped your thighs around his head, nearly a triangle choke as you dragged him along the sheets, him half-crawling to follow you, shuddering at the close proximity of your pussy to his face. When he spoke, his warm breath saturated your wetness.

"She doesn't even taste half as good as you and never fucking listens when I tell her what I like," he grumbled.

"Yeah? You tell her you like it when you shove your face into pussy?"

He scowled.

"Like I said, she doesn't taste good. I never give her head."

And he attached his lips to your heat, slurping noisily, sighing in satisfaction as you squeezed his head with your thighs, hot and slick tongue sparking your sensitive skin, fuck, yes, this is what pussy should taste like, so sweet, fuck, familiar and erotic, his hands sliding up and gripping your ass, firm and solid while staring up at you, opening his mouth and letting you see the pink, wet muscle flick and dance over your clit, ghosting it with pleasure but not giving it to you, your honey-like juices glistening on his lips and chin.

You clenched your jaw. "Get serious already. Stop fucking around."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes.

"I'm always serious with you."

His lips closed in and he made your mind go blank, soft black hair fanning out on your thigh, fast, swift, powerful licks all over your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks and jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine from your core, one of your hands twisting in his hair, bunching it up, his sharp jaw cutting into your inner thighs because you were squeezing so hard, but Jungkook didn't care, always saying, do it, choke me with your thighs, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die eating you out, his long fingers splayed out over your ass and pushing your hips into his face, making you hump his waiting mouth and his punishing tongue, hot flames of desire taking over, your head tipping back, pulling on his long hair, moans of his name tumbling from your throat, suck harder, fuck, seeing black from the sudden blinding tension, his skillful tongue fiercely teasing your engorged clit in the overwhelming tightness, snapping the strings of sanity.

"J-Jungkook!"

The impossible high, the violent shivers, shooting into accelerated free-fall, your fingers unclasping from his hair and pushing his head into your throbbing core, his tongue shoving into your folds and moaning at the sensation of your muscles clamping around it, sucking it all out, your orgasm consumed by his greedy mouth.

Your name vibrated in your own pussy, delivered by sinning lips and hazy dark brown orbs drugged with lust.

Back then, when it was falling apart, you told Jungkook all sorts of things and he said all sorts of things back. Painful things, hateful things, pitiful things, pointless things, never having a real conversation about how deeply he hurt you.

Only later, a strange moment, seeing Jungkook at your front door, seeing it in his eyes. Something different.

He asked you if you wanted to fuck with no strings attached.

You bit back, as wounded animals do.

Why? You were such a waste of time.

Jungkook didn't know it, but his next words made you agree to this ridiculous arrangement.

Yeah, but I was your waste of time and that's all I ever wanted to be.

When he kissed you now, it was hungry and heady, drunk on your taste and you, forcing his tongue into your mouth and thrusting into your lips. Tangled bodies, tangled tongues, tangled minds, falling into the bed, his hands in your hair and yours in his, whispers of, she'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel, your lips and tongue all over his jaw and ear, biting down on it, earrings jingling against your cheek, his moan above your head as you traveled down, marking his skin with sharp bites and thick swipes of saliva, pretty pink marks all over his torso, contrasting the bruises.

"Of course not," Jungkook panted, a shuddering groan torn out of his throat as your nails raked down his back and then glided back up, fingertips pressing into the irritated skin, soothing it. "She never fucking listens to me or my body because she's an idiot."

You traced the curves of his muscles, lips ghosting kisses, hot and soft and sharp from breath and tongue and teeth, his body becoming yours from persistent, familiar touch, his name in your mouth and on his skin, your saliva dripping over his hard, thick length, and then your mouth was on it, his taste on your tongue, in your throat, and in your memory.

Jungkook moaned your name.

With longing, pain, and love.

When's the wedding?

Next year.

Huh. Good for you.

No, it isn't, and you know it. Bet you're glad I'm going to be miserable forever.

You've made me miserable forever, so serves you right.

"Get off, I don't want to blow my load in two seconds, fuck!"

You swallowed him as deep as you could and then pushed your head down so the tip was buried into your throat, swelling and twitching at the unbearable, euphoric constriction.

"F-Fuck, please, let go, fuck... oooh, shit..."

Your tongue outlined the underside of his length, humming around his cock, rubbing the base of the head and straining to slurp at it, letting him hear you, lewd, obscene, unafraid.

If he really wanted to, he could pull out now.

Jungkook breathed your name, savoring every syllable.

You stared into dark brown eyes, black pupils expanded, watching his jaw flinch and his shoulders shake, black tattoos shivering as you slowly removed your tight mouth, popping it off his cock with a wet plop.

His normally smooth, silvery voice was trembling, the pleasure deepening it.

"God, I hate you."

Jungkook and you could say it a thousand times, a million times, for all of time, and both of you would know neither ever meant it.

I love you.

Get out, Jungkook.

But–

Get the fuck out! You think you can fuck me and tell me you love me? Like that's going to somehow negate all the previous bullshit you put me though? No. Take your clothes and your pathetic self and get out. Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

He would. He did.

Over and over.

You towered over him now, waiting for him to roll the condom down, watching his face as you sank down onto his stiff length, seeing the elation, the gratification, the absolute bliss in the way your pussy suffocated him, tight, wet, his, your head dipping down and taking his lips, yours, fitting yourself around his girth that became harder as you bottomed out, his moan feathering over your lips as you rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.

"Oh, fuck, feels so fucking good..."

He knows you're not going to fuck someone else. You have to see other people so he finally realizes how important you are to him.

That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard in my life, Taehyung.

If you don't refuse him, he won't change.

I was never important enough to him in the first place.

Those chocolate orbs watching you, his strong hands on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin and leaving crescents of his nails, matching your pace, harsh, deep slaps of skin to skin, your name on the tip of his tongue, balanced in the tightrope of all or nothing, zero or one.

They want me to take over the family business.

Having a trophy wife is important for that kinda shit.

You're the perfect trophy.

Yeah, me and my mechanical heart.

Jungkook switched your positions, rolling over and pinning you down, perfect white teeth sinking into his pink lower lip, the black mole underneath prominent against his tense jaw, fucking you into your mattress, panting, giving you his all, aching pleasure with every rough thrust, your back arching and hands on his long black hair, clutching his head and raising your hips to meet that full hardness and to hit your favorite spot, sending bursting sparks of ecstasy up your spine and into your lungs, rendering you airless.

Nothing but pleasure, nothing but need, nothing but physicality.

“Look at me,” Jungkook rasped, hoarse from breathing so hard.

You lowered your head and raised an eyebrow. His parted lips had small cuts from stress-biting them. His tan skin was as lovely as ever, dotted with small moles on his nose, cheek, neck, underneath his lip, kisses from the moon, not bothering to wear makeup to cover them. He never did, not with you, not when his time could be better utilized being all over you. Dark brows and chocolate eyes, large, sharp, expressive, beautiful, your Jungkook.

Your country, your world, your universe.

You smirked as you looked at that face. He cocked a brow, black curls falling over his eye as you lifted your hand.

“You know what would piss them off?”

You didn’t need to say who.

He clicked his tongue and slammed his hips down on you, but you only clenched around him, causing him to pause and savor the feeling. His length wrapped in your warmth, connected in the most visceral way, his breath mixing with your breath. Dark brown orbs on you, half-lidded and shadowed by his lashes and long hair.

“What?”

You pushed his hair aside and traced his right eyebrow, stroking the hairs of the tail.

“If you got a face piercing.”

Jungkook grinned, low chuckle in his throat. “Yeah?”

You lifted yourself up to smack your hips into him, holding onto his broad shoulders with your other arm to balance yourself, devious smirk on your lips.

“You won’t do it.”

He leaned down, putting more force into each thrust. Your grip tightening, gasping into his face, eye to eye, dragged along by Jungkook’s intensity and passion, breathing in his exhale, drinking in his fervor, blind to the wrongness, deaf to everything but the sound of bodies, wetness to hardness, and the way he said your name, like there was nothing else, nothing but you and him and ecstasy, nothing but the sensation of how hard and how full his cock felt when he was inside you, nothing but how strongly and viciously you pulsed around him, toppling over the edge, moaning his name and staring into his eyes, into the eyes of the one that made you orgasm and mean it with every fiber of your being.

“Jungkook…”

He sucked in a breath and gasped your name, cock twitching and spurting into the condom, plunging forward, kissing you hungrily and deeply, shoulders shaking in your hands, stealing your breath, muffled cries sliding into your throat from his, anguish at the force of his climax, sweeping you up with him.

It was a long kiss.

He finally broke it, heavy exhale against your lips, not lifting his head, his black hair spilling all over your face, not letting you see anything.

Mouthing words against your cheek that you could feel, but it was a silent utterance, a soundless scream into the abyss that he alone was sinking, living a life without you.

Enjoy your piranha.

Ha, ha, very funny.

She’s not gonna notice?

He hadn’t said anything, pulling his turtleneck over his head and shaking out his long black hair like a dog. You had pulled your blankets over your naked body and looked away, not wanting to see him any longer.

You’re trash, Jungkook.

Yeah, but I could buy you a Louis Vuitton bag, easy.

You’ve been hanging around your parents too much. I don’t give a shit about your money or your influence and I never did.

Everyone likes money.

Everyone likes you too. Oh, wait, except me. I guess I’m excluded from everyone.

He hadn’t said anything more. You didn’t tell him goodbye when he left.

You waited until your heart became numb again. Then you mechanically crawled out of bed and cleaned up all traces of his existence, going all the way outside to dispose of the condom and the wrapper so you wouldn’t accidentally look at them in the trash later. You put your clothes back on, one by one, and went about your day. And the next day. And the next. And the.

And.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” you would say to whoever asked. You would smile and nod.

Time went on.

You would open the door and no one was there.

You would close the door and go back inside.

You would open the door.

And Jeon Jungkook was there, with a cut on his lip and a black-purple bruise underneath his left eye.

His right eyebrow was slightly swollen, two stainless steel balls connected by a silver bar pierced into the end of his brow. His clothes were torn up, his white dress shirt dirtied and his dark wash jeans torn, brown mud caked on one knee. He looked at you, chest shuddering, wheezing for breath.

“Hah…”

He smirked, the gesture not reaching his eyes. Those dark brown orbs were desolate, numb. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand and winced.

“I think they’re mad at me.”

You raised your eyebrows.

He flicked a hand through his now short black hair and ticked his head. “They told me not to show my face in front of them ever again and that I can kiss my inheritance goodbye.”

You leaned against your doorframe. “They took the silver spoon from your mouth over an eyebrow piercing?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I guess it pissed them off when I said I wasn’t going to take it out.”

He made eye contact and you saw him trying to tell you that he had changed.

Well.

Was forced to change, now poor and cast away.

“I know you said I was a waste of time,” Jungkook sighed, heavy and remorseful. “But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.”

You looked into those chocolate orbs that always told you they loved you.

“They knew, huh?”

He smiled ruefully. “I didn’t try to hide it. She knew, they knew, they probably all knew where I went.”

“And what will you do when they ask you to come back?”

Jungkook stood at your doorstep and told you words that you had always wanted to hear, but he had been too afraid to say, afraid of the repercussions, confused of his own feelings, too selfish at the time to realize how much he had hurt you. Time and emptiness had taught him pain and taught him what it meant to be without.

The time taught him how it felt to be not one, but zero.

“Tell them I should have left a long time ago and stayed with you, because you always let me be whoever I wanted to be even though all I was doing was wasting your time.”

He faced you, you and your mechanical heart that he created with his silence.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology meant nothing to you, far too late.

“Now I have nothing but time.”

It never mattered. You always knew Jungkook was sorry from the moment he asked to fuck with no strings attached. It was for him and for you. For him to touch you once more, even if it was all a lie, and for you and your mechanical heart, cleaning off the rust and giving it a moment to feel. He knew. You knew.

Without each other, you were both zeros when you could have been one.

And it was all his fault.

I know you’re not here, but I love you, Jungkook.

You sighed.

Then you shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I got nothing but time too.” You tilted your head, chuckling. “And even now, I waste it on you.”

Jungkook smiled sadly. He didn’t ask to be forgiven. He didn’t ask to be invited in. He just stood at your doorstep, finally able to say the words he should have said. He didn’t ask you to love him. You already knew he loved you. He mouthed it all the time, I love you, against your cheek, after each and every rendezvous, without fail.

Now he had nothing.

But you could see he was going to give it his all this time.

You stepped away from the doorframe and turned around, waving him in.

“If you’re gonna be my waste of time, at least wash your face.”

continued in LO$ER=?, m | jjk

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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shoutogepi · 3 years ago

Text

A Million Times Over, part 2

┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.4k

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : NSFW references (no explicit smut this chapter)

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Yaaaaaa babie so part 2 is finally finished! I’m wicked excited to finish the series next chapter and ughhh the smut is gonna be so good omg. Just wait.

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : shout out to @shotoh for beta-reading this for me, what a saint <3

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄸t was warm.

There was something heavy on your middle, but it didn’t feel like a nuisance— it was a welcome weight, one that somehow made comfort seep from your chest and fill the rest of your body with a quiet sense of peace. You hummed as sleep’s grasp on you lightened, the cogs in your mind beginning to turn. The hospital bed had never been this comfortable before, and the acrid smell of antiseptic and bustle of the doctors outside your door was peculiarly absent. Instead, a pleasant scent of laundry and cologne lingered on your pillowcase, making the corners of your mouth pull up in a droopy smile.

Your eyes opened as you recalled where you were, and whose arms you were lying in— whose gentle breaths blew at your hair and tickled the shell of your ear. Letting out a slow exhale, you blinked the sleep from your eyes, legs attempting to move, only to find them tangled with the muscled calves of your bedmate who, you prayed to whatever divine presence that was out there, was still asleep.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

However, when you tried to move away, a low groan sounded in your ear, scattering the stray hairs that laid out of place there. Like a sleeping bear, the arm around your waist curled around you tighter, pressing your entire body directly against the hard contour of his. You swallowed, blinking owlishly as you tried not to think about the sizeable semi-hardness poking into your backside, nor the rough fingertips that splayed out on the smooth expanse of your stomach at the bottom of your shirt, the very pinky dipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts and panties, palm warming your skin just enough to make your heart awaken for the day.

Your breath was caught in your throat, and you didn’t dare move another inch. Even if you didn’t have your memories of the man you shared your life with for the past few years, the moments the two of you had shared throughout the past week were enough to have butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach. The feeling of simply being in his arms, tucked under the sheets and cocooned in his warmth and his scent, it all had your body feeling like it was at peace.

At home.

Shouto’s hand was lying open beside your face, his arm tucked underneath your neck as he must’ve fallen asleep spooning you, and not since shifted away throughout the night. His fingers twitched in his sleep just slightly, and you took the moment to admire the long, slender digits. For a man of his size and stature, they were surprisingly thin, almost as if in another life he could have tickled piano keys for a living. But they were also marred with scars and calluses from his herowork— none open nor recent, seeing as he had taken the last month off to watch over you. Reaching for his hand, you traced the lines on his palm, trailing your fingertips over his skin and finding yourself lost in thought. You wondered if this was how you usually slept, if this was what you woke up to every day…

If that was your reality, you would happily accept it.

Being in Shouto’s arms made you feel safe, protected from the troubles of life. You already harbored silly feelings for him before you had even met him, and now that you had, those feelings had only been amplified, each day spent with him a catalyst to the reaction he triggered in your heart.

You bit your lip, twisting your spine so you could look at him. Holding your breath as you finally laid eyes on him, you took your time to admire him in all his slumbered glory. Your eyes loitered on his high cheekbones, the sharp angle of his jawline, and then the placid expression he donned while he slept, not plagued with the usual lacing of concern that he wore throughout the day. He was so… handsome. In all his hardened, heroic glory, he still managed to look like a prince straight out of every little girl’s storybook. And he certainly had the body to go with it as well— the fruits of his training on full display for you as you marveled at his naked chest.

Your heart leapt into your throat when he stirred, his arm around your waist coming to rub at his tired eyes. Watching his grey eye open slightly, your breath caught at the crooked grin that blossomed on his lips when he locked eyes with you.

“Mmm morning princess,” he rumbled, hand landing on your stomach to push your body backwards into his. He didn’t mind the little squeak of surprise you let out, nuzzling his face into your neck and slinging his leg across your hips once he flattened them onto the mattress. Your face felt like it was on fire, his morning… problem pressed firmly against your back now as he moaned in content, scattering lazy kisses across your throat.

You gasped when his hand on your stomach suddenly jumped up to grope your breast over your shirt, his fingers kneading tenderly as tingles fired across your nerves. It felt good to be receiving his unbridled affection— too good, really, as he started to suck at your neck. Your body cried out for his touch but you had barely even kissed last night— this was too much, too fast.

“Sh-Shouto!”

He paused, head rearing back as he detected the urgency in your voice, sleepy eyes locking with yours with his brows furrowed underneath his frazzled bed-head. It took him a moment before his eyes widened and horror replaced the slumber that had impeded his judgement before, his body jumping to the other side of the bed instantly as his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I— I’m so sorry, Y/n, fuck— I didn’t…” he stammered, embarrassment evident as the pink turned to red, little flames sprouting on the left side of his head while his eyes flew about, unable to meet your gaze.

You instantly felt guilty, his demeanor apologetic. It was clear that he was frustrated with himself. “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I was just… it was just, um, unexpected?” you tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a choke.

“Damn it…” Shouto mumbled, his hands coming to drag across his face morosely. The flames that licked at his side sizzled out, indicating that he was no longer so much shocked as he was contrite. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, muffled by his hands that still occupied his face. “It was just… I forgot for a second and... I didn’t mean to— to, well, come onto you. God, I’m sorry.”

You watched him for a second, your heart suddenly heavy with the sadness that leaked from his choice of words. For the first time in a long time, he had woken up with you in his arms, and he had forgotten about the absolute shitstorm of the month he’d had. That was probably how he acted when he woke up normally, as your sweet and loving boyfriend— showering you in affection was his first instinct of the day, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“It’s really okay, Sho. I was just surprised,” you peeped, trying to relieve him of some of the stress that he was so apparently harboring. “It’s not like I hated it…”

Shouto processed your words for a moment before one hand rose from his face, his brow contorted into a mix between accusatory and suggestive. There was a hint of a smile threatening to bloom on his lips, but he remained silent as he stared at you.

“I just meant that— well… we could lay here for a bit before we get up for the day. If… If that’s our usual routine or, if you would be interested in that!” You could feel your face getting hot now, the embarrassment transferring from him to you.

But Shouto chose not to tease you, instead scooting back over to you in the middle of the bed. “You always did like your morning cuddles,” he said, mouth turning at the corners into a smirk.

“Whatever, just— just keep your third leg to yourself, okay? Arms only!” You shared a quick look with him, the both of you shocked that you had really just said that.

But Shouto followed your request, flipping so he laid on his belly before his arm hooked out to bring you into his side, nose pressing up against your ear as you were on your back. The butterflies were back and busy again in your stomach— his touch just did something to you, it was both exhilarating and infuriating when he had hardly done anything.

“Never heard that one before,” he murmured lowly, snark lurking in his voice. “You’re usually quite fond of my third leg, dear.”

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The rest of the morning went more according to plan. After a considerable amount of time lying in the sheets with Shouto cuddling into your side, you finally parted ways and went about getting ready for the day. There was a sense of giddiness pumping through your veins as your boyfriend left you stationed in front of your closet, mumbling something about preparation before you headed out.

Mostly, you were looking forward to going on your date. But then, there was also the surprised excitement that came from the sight of your walk-in closet, complete with rows of neatly organized clothes and a built-in wall with shelves and drawers, even a glass display case full of glittering jewels and gems in designs all tailored to your taste. You took a moment to pat yourself on the back. Not only did you seem to have the man of your dreams, but you had also attained your dream closet? If this was truly a dream, you most definitely did not want to wake up.

It took you an absurdly long amount of time to piece together your outfit. It was partially because you stopped to ogle at pretty much every hanger you rifled through, and partially because you were completely unsure of what clothes Shouto particularly enjoyed seeing you in. There was a sneaking suspicion that his preference was for you to not be clothed at all… but it wasn’t like you could go out on your date in your birthday suit. And, that would mean exposing your bare body to him, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that just yet.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t insanely attracted to him— because you definitely were. Just, the situation you were in was a delicate one, and when you did decide to indulge in the physicalities of your relationship, it would be after you had no more questions to ask him. You just weren’t quite there yet.

So, you decided on a pair of dark jeans and a flowy blouse that showcased your shoulders, matching the color of your shoes, belt, and purse. After a quick makeup routine, you chose to spruce up the outfit with a little jewelry, seeing as you had quite an ample selection to choose from. A shiny pair of hoops for your ears came easily enough, but you struggled to find a necklace which would pull everything together. Your eyes wandered over the chains of gold and silver, some shining with bright gems and some intricate enough with just the curve of the metal. It was then that you noticed a simple but very elegant necklace, its blue-topaz pendant catching your gaze. As you inspected the glittering stone, a warm feeling pooled in your chest, and you found your fingers reaching for the jewelry without thought. There was something special about this necklace, but what, exactly, you couldn’t identify.

It was incredibly frustrating. This was the closest you had come to remembering anything since you had woken up a week ago… and while it was certainly progress, it was infuriating to have the recollection dangling just barely out of your reach. You stared at the brilliant cyan gem for another moment before deciding that you weren’t going to remember based on willpower alone, securing the clasp around your neck. If that were the case, then you would have your memory back already, you were sure. You left the room with your shoes in hand, sock-clad feet padding quietly against the shiny hardwood floors while a sour taste dwelled on the back of your tongue.

Yet somehow, the second your eyes met Shouto’s, the feeling of self-loathing was instantly quelled, replaced with a pleasant wave of some feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes had locked onto the stone around your neck right as you walked into the kitchen, and immediately a smile graced his lips as he found your gaze.

You couldn’t help but return one, your eyes flickering to the floor before returning to him, overwhelmed with the tingles that zipped through you. He hadn’t really given you the chance to take in the outfit he had chosen before he left you to dress, and you found yourself appreciating the soft, cream sweater that fell just over his denim-clad hips.

“Wow, you look…” his eyes trailed down your form and then back up, his smile just as full. He let out a soft laugh, head tilting back before his attention returned to you, as if he didn’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You already knew you looked good, but still, hearing the compliment roll off his tongue made your stomach leap up beside your heart. “Thank you, Sho. You look beautiful, too,” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

Even though his cheeks dusted with a light pink, his expression remained unchanged, gaze dropping to the pendant resting in the middle of your chest again. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue.

Just as you were about to tell him about the feeling you’d gotten earlier, he turned and grabbed some things from the counter behind him, whisking them into his arms. There was a curious look you shot him as you examined the numerous hats he offered to you, one of your brows rising at the variety.

Shouto didn’t give you the chance to ask, launching into explanation without your prompt. “You and I are technically celebrities. So it’s best if we conceal our faces while we’re out in public.” His gaze dropped to the brim of the gray suede boater in his hand, his thumb trailing across the soft material. “I don’t want you ambushed today. The public has missed you while you’ve been out of commission, so if we’re spotted, I’ll have to share you… and I don’t think either of us is ready for that quite yet.”

You nodded, ignoring the giddiness that bloomed in the depths of your stomach at his choice of words. Reaching for a floppy hat, your fingers brushed over his sweater as you grabbed your choice of camouflage. The fit was snug around your head, the silky ribbon tied around the crown the perfect match to your shoes. Shouto put on his hat as well, making sure to tuck the white half of his hair up and out of sight, giving him a faux monochromatic appearance. He wordlessly handed you a pair of large sunglasses, which you slid onto your face without protest. He mirrored your action, choosing a dark pair of aviators that helped disguise his famous scar.

“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin for full emphasis. The movement put a little smile on Shouto’s face, his eyes roaming your figure leisurely before he offered a thumbs up.

“Enchanting as always, love,” he replied stoically, the suavity and candor of his response aiding to the warm, swirling feeling in your stomach. But his expression morphed into a playful smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What about me?”

A laugh trickled out of you as he copied your twirl, his execution somehow more graceful than yours. His pink lips curled into a genuine smile at your giggle, ending his mock demonstration in a curtsey. This only caused you to swat at him in exaggeration, taking the first steps towards the door.

“Equally enchanting,” you replied, not a hint of a lie in your voice. Your conviction made Shouto stutter, his grin melting to a flustered purse of the lip. It was then that you took his hand decisively, chuckling as you placed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Ready to go.”

It took him a moment to buffer, but he quickly recovered, a warm flush coloring his cheeks as his fingers squeezed yours. The digits of his other hand curled around the small of your waist, guiding you through the door.

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Your eyes widened as Shouto pulled the sleek car into the parking space, your surroundings somewhat familiar. When you had asked where he was taking you, he hadn’t revealed any clues, preferring to give a vague “someplace you’ll enjoy” before effectively killing the conversation. You probably should’ve expected it, but surprise overtook you as you turned the sidewalk corner and there stood the cat cafe the pair of you had passed on your way back from the hospital just yesterday.

When you turned to look at Shouto, his eyes were already inspecting your reaction, the excitement written obviously all over your face. He regarded you with a quiet, knowing smile as he opened the door for you, the bell tinkling overhead and the quiet mewls of kittens further inside distinctly ringing in your ears. Right as you stepped inside, a fluffy, smoosh-face cat curled around your ankles, brushing and sniffing at you in greeting. Shouto made a joke about the fluffy beast being the cutest host he’d ever seen, his smile only growing when you laughed in return.

Once you were seated, tucked in a comfy pair of chairs in the corner of the cafe, a waitress came over to take your orders. What took you by surprise was that Shouto ordered for you— the exact confection and drink you were eyeing when you peeked at the menu. He shot you a little smirk at the cuteness of your impressed expression, asking if you’d like to add anything and turning the staff person's attention to you. At your denial, they excused themself, leaving you alone with Shouto once more.

There was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, the other cafe goers could practically see the sparks flying between you.

“So… do we come here a lot?” you inquired, taking a tentative sip of your ice water and training your eyes on the top button of his shirt. It was just too intense to stare him straight in the eye sometimes…

Shouto took a moment to reply, looking through his red and white bangs at you fondly, leaning back in his chair before shaking his head. “Truthfully, we’ve never been here before.” He gauged the surprise in your eyes, a little knowing smile resting on his plump lip before he continued. “You always wanted to try this place but we hadn’t gotten around to it… you even picked out the food you wanted in case we came. I hope your tastes remain unchanged? If I ordered something you don’t want, I’ll call the waiter over.”

It was then your turn to shake your head, a quick and decisive answer. “No, you got it right,” you reassured, hands wringing slowly underneath the table in your lap. “The only other thing I wanted to try was the drink you ordered, so it’s fine!”

“Have as much as you like,” he suavely suggested, his tone sounding more like a demand than an offer. Just as he focused his eyes on yours, he was interrupted by a fuzzy orange kitten jumping into his lap, settling into a tiny loaf across his thighs and staring up at him expectantly.

You and Shouto both buffered for a moment before you let out a laugh at the sight of such a tiny creature in your broad boyfriend’s embrace. Shouto began to chuckle too, giving the creature a little scratch under the chin. The kitten meowed happily in agreement, placing its head onto its paws and settling in for a nap. You let the comfortable silence last for a minute before you meandered back into conversation.

“So um, earlier, when we were getting ready to go out…,” your fingers absentmindedly wandered to the pendant resting in the middle of your collar bones. “I saw this necklace in my closet and I felt like it was… important? And then I thought I caught you looking at it earlier too maybe? Do you know if it has any significant meaning or anything?”

Shouto’s gaze remained on the cat in his lap for another moment before it flicked over to you, and once again, you were stunned by the amount of emotion in his mismatched eyes. “I gave it to you,” he answered, his free hand fiddling with the sunglasses that now hung in the middle of his shirt collar. “It was for our first anniversary.”

You didn't really know what to make of that, the newfound knowledge resonating through you as you tried to remember anything about that day at all.

“I chose that color because you said you loved it… the color of my eyes. Or— eye— I suppose,” he gestured to the piercing cerulean orb that rested on his hot side, standing out even more against the muddled skin of his scar.

Your head nodded as you processed his answer, your finger nudging at the handle of your cutlery absentmindedly. “You do have nice eyes,” you mumbled, your veins pumping with a warmth you'd come to recognize as his natural effect on you.

Shouto smiled at that, his gaze focused on the pendant gleaming in the sun’s gentle caress. You could feel the intensity of his eyes there in the center of your chest, the modest amount of exposed cleavage feeling hot under his inspection.

At his silence, you continued on, your flusteredness forcing your mouth to move without much reason. “And— you have great taste in jewelry too, I mean, this is really beautiful.”

“It suits you,” he replied instantly, as if such words required no thought whatsoever.

That just made your cheeks feel even hotter, and a surprised chuckle sounded past your lips, his compliment egging on the butterfly swarm in your belly. “Thank you… I’m glad you have enough rationale to avoid a cheesy heart with your name on it or something.”

Shouto’s eyes fleed yours at that, taking a tentative sip of his water. You watched his pink lips curl into a subtle, knowing smirk. He yelped when you kicked his ankle underneath the table, gaze returning to you. He regarded your inquisitorial expression for a moment before he shrugged, his cheeks tinged with the lightest of pinks. “I have actually given you something like that before…”

You bit your lip, now wanting to kick yourself for making fun of the sweet yet idiotic, classic boyfriend gift. Heart jewelry, of course…

“And you really liked it… maybe almost as much as me,” he finished, and you watched as his blush deepened a few shades.

The waiter chose that moment to deliver your drinks, the conversation halting awkwardly before they took their leave once again.

“I really liked it?” You parroted, perplexed. There was no way you would find such a cheesy gift endearing enough to actually enjoy it.

Shouto adjusted himself in his chair, clearing his throat awkwardly. His eyes once again couldn’t meet yours, his fingertips tapping on the edge of the table. “Yeah it— it’s an anklet… it um, has my initials on the charm…” he mumbled, suddenly shy. “You seem to enjoy wearing it when we… when I— when I take you.”

“Oh.”

Your face felt on fire, neither of you brave enough to look each other in the eye following his confession. There wasn’t much you knew about your sex life with Shouto— though you assumed it to be very much alive, and healthily so— but just by the way he phrased that, your thighs were clenching together at the image your brain so kindly painted you.

Shouto was a big, strong man… one who was very proportional, as you recalled from the incident that occurred this morning. The thought of him taking you made your insides squirm with interest, fluttering at the premise of being stretched around him. You took another sip of your drink before the food thankfully arrived, allowing the pair of you to drop the conversation.

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After you finished eating, Shouto took you to the trader’s market around the corner. There were people crowding the streets and trickling through the crosswalks, even though it was a late morning on a Friday and most of the population should’ve been busying away at their jobs. The bustle of the city should’ve been overwhelming for you— Shouto kept you close to his side at all times, his gaze scrutinizing any looks that lasted too long toward your direction. And yet, you were having a blast, flittering about and exploring the vendors’ stands and the numerous trinket stalls that lined the busy square. His hand was always holding yours. Even when you got more invested in the items on display before you, his fingers would linger at your waist, making his relationship to you apparent to any bystanders.

Sunlight streamed down in between the tall buildings surrounding you, reflecting off the windows like mirrors and making you grateful for the shade of your hat. That made you extra thankful for the ghost of Shouto’s hand across your skin, welcoming the coolness exuding off of his right side. There was a light-hearted conversation between the pair of you, and many grannies waved you over to inspect their merchandise by calling out to the pair of lovebirds. The repeated label made Shouto puff up in pride, aiding him to stand tall and retain the advantage he had on you in terms of height.

Whenever your gaze lingered on something for a second too long, Shouto was instantly handing bills over to the merchants, insisting they take the change or at least tipping them appreciatively. By the time the two of you had visited every stall, numerous bags hung from his left arm, all precariously stacked so the fingers on his other hand could remain laced with yours.

He noticed your wary gaze on the bags, your expression giving your thoughts away immediately. “Don’t worry love,” he reassured, squeezing your fingers in his, “they’re no trouble at all.” At your attempt to grab a few and lessen the load, he pivoted and held them above your head. He frowned, keeping them out of reach as you continued your attempt, swatting at him gently.

“Just let me have one at least,” you pouted, your voice morphing into a little whine. That got him to grin, conceding and handing you the smallest, lightest bag of the bunch. He feigned ignorance when you shot him a playful glare in response, choosing now to steer you toward another topic instead.

“Would it ruin the date if we stopped by my office? I just need to drop off the folders I finished up last night, and the building is just a block over. It should only take a minute.”

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Sure,” you agreed, allowing his fingers to slip back into yours. Having your hand in his felt natural to you, the warmth of his skin welcomed. “I want to see your agency, anyway!”

It was a short walk to his workplace, as promised. The building was one of the tallest in the surrounding area, with sleek windows paneling all sides and reflecting the orange light of the barely-setting sun. The security guards didn’t bother the pair of you, Shouto acknowledging them with a nod as he slipped off his disguise. The elevator opened and Shouto flashed his badge at the sensor, then pushed the button for one of the floors higher up in the building.

In no time at all, the doors opened again and he led you past the couple secretaries that were perched behind their desks. You could feel their eyes glued to your back, and you were sure that the second you were safely located behind the glass doors to the hallway, they’d launch into discussion. The thought slipped your mind as you came round the corner, Shouto guiding you through the nearest door and ushering you into a large sitting room. Two doors were situated on either side of the room, long glass walls dividing the quarters. One door led to Shouto’s office, as designated by the nearby nameplate. The other you were about to read just as it opened, and a familiar, sharp-toothed redhead bounded toward the pair of you.

Immediately you grinned, ripping your hand from Shouto’s as you launched yourself at the famed Red Riot, one of Japan’s finest heroes lifting you off your feet in an enthusiastic embrace. Your laughs echoed around the room, Kirishima’s chuckles following as he spun you around. Shouto watched silently, a small frown adorning his lip while your gleeful laughs met his ears. He hadn’t heard such a sound in what seemed like forever, and even though he was not the cause of it, he couldn’t help but relish in it.

After a moment, Kirishima put you down and pulled Shouto in for a quick half-hug, patting him on the shoulder as his eyes then returned to you. “Well look who it is,” he grinned, his pointy teeth on display, hands landing on his narrow hips. “It’s so good to see you up and about, Y/n.”

“It’s good to see you too, Kiri,” you mirrored his expression, taking in his appearance.

Shouto watched your eyes rove over him, a sour taste developing at the back of his tongue. You had recognized Kirishima immediately— fondly, even— when it had taken hard work and ample time for you to warm up to him. It had taken a week for you to call him by his usual nickname, and yet, you called Kirishima by his own instantly. He could feel himself turning green at the realization, his frown remaining as his eyes sharpened in scrutiny.

“Wow,” you exclaimed after you had fully appraised the hero, even taking in the scarlet costume that had been updated since the last time you’d seen him. “You look great! Five years has really done you well, hmm? You’re totally ripped. Last time I saw you I swear you were shorter!”

Kirishima laughed and toed at the ground bashfully— never one to handle compliments very well. “Ah, thanks Y/n… gotta stay in shape when your costume has you shirtless all day, right?”

Shouto couldn’t help the envy that rose up inside of him as he watched you chatter eagerly with his coworker… even though he knew you had no control of what memories you lost, it still stung to watch you engage with and compliment another man. Especially when he hadn’t received such easy affection from you in much too long.

“You look much better, too,” Kirishima continued, glancing at Shouto as he picked up on the temperature drop in the room. Somehow you didn’t seem to notice the frost gathering on Shouto’s wrist as a result of his displeasure. “Erm— last time I saw you was in the hospital when you were still in your coma. I was so relieved to hear you woke up! Then I figured it would be easier for you if you didn’t have any visitors, though… that’s what your f— um, Shouto said would be best, anyway.”

At the mention of his name, you glanced at the half-and-half man beside you, shooting him a thankful smile that had his heart fluttering and his jealousy waning. He cleared his throat and nodded, casting a forced smile at the other hero. “Yes, well… I have to step into my office quickly, would you entertain her for a moment?”

Kirishima opened his mouth to reply, but Shouto was already halfway through the door, leaving the pair of you slightly stunned. You could see him through the glass wall, eyes following him and wondering why his curt attitude left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“So um…” The redhead turned to look at you, prompting you to do the same. “You really lost all your memories of him?”

The question hit you like he had dunked you in ice cold water, and you stiffened up immediately. Kirishima panicked then, eyes growing wide and covering his mouth.

“I can’t believe I just blurted that out— I just… You guys are so in love, I can’t imagine you two not together,” he explained earnestly, his brow furrowed. His honesty made your stomach burst with butterflies, the premise of being loved by Shouto and being able to love him made you feel flustered as hell.

“We are together,” you clarified, and Kirishima nodded. “Just not as together as before, I guess? It’s just… he makes me feel so many things and I barely know him. But he knows me? Like, intimately. It feels like he knows me more than I know myself sometimes. I dunno, it’s just… complicated, Kiri.”

He smiled in understanding, eyes sympathetic as you spilled your troubles to him. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t Shouto— as much as you liked him, talking to him was difficult because he made you fumble with your words. You said things you didn’t mean to say when you were with him. Kirishima continued, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you guys are crazy in love. Like, you’re the couple I aspire to be in some day.”

You grabbed his hand and grinned at that, his sincerity making your heart melt. “Awe, Kiri… It’s good to see you haven’t changed from how I remember you. You’re still the sweetest.”

Kirishima laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just be yourself with him… I think it’ll put you both at ease. You’re really good for each other— he was devastated the whole time you were asleep.”

The admission made a lump appear in your throat, your eyes feeling glassy all the sudden.

“He hasn’t acted this frigid since his high school days… Long before he met you. I think you make him feel relaxed. I mean, that’s how he always looks when he’s with you, or thinking about you. I can tell when we’re on patrol and he’s daydreaming about you, ‘cus he’ll just walk right into a lamp pole.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, cursing the timing when the door opened and Shouto stepped out, his eyes landing on you and then hardening as they moved to Kirishima. He stepped toward him, but you intercepted him and laced your arms around his middle instead, stopping him with your embrace.

Shouto faltered at the sudden display of affection, his cheeks growing hot as he locked gazes with Kirishima, his eyes then dropping to the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest. He was frozen mid-breath, completely still as you held him. His cool, clean scent swallowed you as you kept your head nuzzled into his front, his fingers limp as your hand found his.

With a small step back, you ceased your embrace, your fingers squeezing his tightly as your eyes captured his and you gave him a shy smile. His cheeks only darkened, the grimace that had occupied his face long gone and instead replaced with an awed blankness. His lips parted and moved pointlessly, as if he wanted to say something but no sound escaped him.

“It was nice catching up Kiri,” you said, eyes still locked with Shouto’s heterochromatic ones before you turned to the red hero, who was awkwardly looking to the side as he shuffled his weight between his feet.

Kirishima looked at you and laughed awkwardly once again. You began to exit with Shouto in tow behind you, the hero’s crimson gaze following the pair of you. “Ah, yeah, you too! Let’s meet up soon!”

Then the glass door closed, and you were once again in the vicinity of the secretaries' blatant gawking. You pointedly ignored them as you strode toward the elevator, with their soundlessly boss still trailing behind you. As you waited for the elevator to ascend to your floor, you caught Shouto looking at you funny in your peripheral vision. Yet when you turned to look at him, he only reached out and pulled you into his chest.

Caught by surprise, a meek noise slipped out of you before you collided with his pecs once again, his arms wrapping around you to secure you in place. He nuzzled into your hair and inhaled deeply, uncaring of the secretaries' stares.

Only when the elevator arrived did he pull away, to guide you inside and away from the prying eyes. When the doors were closed, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the crest of your cheek, a wisp of his peppermint-laced breath cooling your skin just as heat rushed there from his lips.

“Let’s go home, love,” Shouto murmured against your skin, knuckles nudging yours before your fingers curled around his. You nodded, holding his arm with your free hand and coming to stand by his side as the elevator rushed toward the ground. A peaceful moment of silence fell upon you and Shouto, giving you time for contemplation.

Any sane woman would've taken one look at Kirishima and felt at least a pinch of interest twirl inside her stomach. He was caring and handsome as they come, and yet he did absolutely nothing for you. Somehow when you were confronted with his chiseled abs and warm gaze, you felt less than when Shouto even glanced at you. You concluded that your body was definitely in love with him… and your heart longed to be the same. But part of you still had questions that needed to be resolved before you could really give yourself to him… and little did he know, you would find the answers to said questions so soon.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

ahh i love this sho so much, he’s trying so hard... poor babie 🥺 next part i will be much kinder to him <3 if you enjoyed please be sure to reblog and or leave me a comment •ᴥ•

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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5sospenguinqueen · 3 years ago

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COLD HAND, WARM COCK - Bucky Barnes

PLOT: Bucky watches you train and you’ve had enough. Sam and Steve catch you. This is a fic from the Avengers Tower days where they all lived together. Based off this picture.

WARNING: Unprotected sex

Fists smacking into the bag, you step back so that it doesn’t knock you onto your arse, before darting back towards it and booting it with your foot. Grunting as the impact reverberated up your spine, you knew Nat would criticise your poor technique if she had been training with you. Your mind was otherwise preoccupied to think about your stance. For weeks you had been tense and coiled tightly all because of the newest resident of the Avengers Tower.

Bucky Barnes had been living across the hall from you for almost a year now and yet you still hadn’t relaxed fully around him. You were constantly aware of his presence and it had taken him a few months of Steve forcing the two of you to spend time together until he had relaxed around you. However, you had developed a strong bond since the night you found him on the balcony at 2am, staring up at the moon and shaking. It wasn’t a cold night and the distant look in his eyes informed you that something was wrong. You had pulled him in for a tight hug and he had spilled his heart to you about his nightmare. Happiness bubbled in your chest when - a few days later - you had teased him about his metal arm. Biting your tongue, you waited for the usual stony glare he shot you (or even an indifferent remark) but instead he had let out a small chuckle before responding with his own quip.

The first time the two of you had been sent on a mission alone, he had lost control for a millisecond when you two had returned to the motel room. Deep in thought, he had been startled when your small hand touched his right arm. Before you could speak, you were pressed against the beige wall and a vibranium arm was crushing your windpipe. Despite the fact that you were gasping for air, you refused to hurt him and instead begged for him to let you go. Looking down at your bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks, he dropped you instantly. Cowering in a corner on the other side of the room, he pleaded for your forgiveness; apologies spilled from his mouth with every other sentence. The pair of you had spent the night cuddled up in the small motel bed, your hand stroking his hair as his tears dripped onto your neck. Flowers had been left outside your door out of gratitude for your help and your silence. If you had told the other team what had happened, he would’ve been forced back to the ‘luxury psych hotel’.

As the bond between the two of you grew, so did the sexual tension. Electricity coursed through your veins each time he brushed past you. His cock jumped every time you smiled at him like he was one of the best people in your life. Sarcastic comments had been traded for teasing comments. Lingering touches and “incidental brushes” of your chest and his ass had you spending numerous nights with your fingers deep inside you and Bucky’s name tumbling past your lips. Exhaling deeply, you felt those piercing blue eyes that haunt your dreams staring at your figure.

“Can I help you, Mr Barnes? I know in your old age your memory starts to falter but this is a training room. You should be training, not lounging about.” You say, snarkily.

A heat ignited in your core when you turned to look at him. Seated on the bench, his legs were spread wide open, elbows resting on his knees. Hands dangling in between them, the veins in his right harm rippled as he flexed his muscles and his metal arm gleamed in the fluorescent lighting. Mouth hung slightly open, his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he brazenly looked you up and down.

“And you should be training, not shaking your ass at me,” he smirked, leaning forward to see how you would react.

Taking a step towards him, you circle him before coming to a stop behind him. Leaning down, you whispered in his ear and smiled at the goosebumps that appeared on his neck. “I shake my ass for myself and myself only. Anyway, Barnes, you should be keeping your eyes to yourself. I’m far too young for you, Grandpa.”

“Oh, Doll, I could show you things that would have your legs shaking.” Bucky taunted, grabbing your arm as you tried to move away and swinging you into his lap.

Gasping at the sudden movement, you felt your panties dampen when he forced your legs on either side of him so that you were straddling his lap. One warm hand and one cold hand rested on your bare waist, an erotic combination that had your heart quickening. Forehead resting upon his own, your breath mingled with Bucky’s. Once more, his tongue licked his bottom lip but with your close proximity, it tickled your own lips slightly. Both of you knew that there would be no backing down or running away this time. Needing something to soothe the fire within your stomach, you made the first move.

Leaning forward, you connected your lips, hands sliding into his hair and giving a slight tug. Moaning into your mouth, Bucky bucked his hips against you. Tongue brushing against his, you squeaked in surprise when you found yourself on the floor. Your hands grip the bottom of his shirt and he pulls away from you to allow you to pull it over his head. Instead of reclaiming your lips, Bucky trailed open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking against a small spot that had your hips bumping against his.

“Buck!” You shrieked in shock when his metal arm grasped your breast. The coldness of the metal hand had you crawling away.

“I’m sorry, Doll. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Bucky frowned, lines forming between his brows as he backed away. Leaning up on your elbows, you reassured him that his metal arm didn’t scare you at all.

“You don’t scare me, Buck. I trust you completely. It was just cold.”

However, he still looked doubtful so you grabbed his metal arm and placed it on your stomach. Waiting to see what you would do next, Bucky’s cocky persona returned once you pushed his hand under the waistband of your shorts.

“Y/N, are you sure?” “Buck, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will go and jump one of those newbies.”

A rip sound echoed throughout the training room and your mouth dropped open at the sight of your shorts in his hand; torn in two. Before you could berate him, his mouth pressed a kiss to the skin above the band of your underwear and you begged him to touch you. One finger brushed along your core through your lacy panties, grinning at the dampness of them. Raising your hips so he could pull them down your leg, you protested when his right hand teased its way up your leg.

“Metal. Use the metal one.”

Cocking his eyebrow, Bucky shook his head in amusement before a cold finger circled the small nub of pleasure. Tracing your slit, Bucky blew gently on your wet mound before he slid a finger inside of you. An elicit gasp escaped your mouth when he curled it, pumping in and out slowly. Bucking your hips against his touch, you begged for more.

“Love the sounds you make, Doll.” Bucky murmured against your clit before he sucked gently.

Your hands pulled on the dark locks of his hair, shrieking slightly when he groaned against you.

“Buck, please, I need you in me.” “So desperate.” Bucky taunted as you made grabby hands at his shorts. “I’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Pathetic whimpers poured out of your mouth as Bucky pulled down his shorts, revealing his hardened cock. Gripping both your wrists in his metal hand, Bucky pinned your arms above your head, enjoying the way you squirmed. You were helpless under him. Attaching his mouth to your nipple, Bucky slid his tip inside you.

“More,” you begged. A shocked scream came out your mouth as Bucky slammed himself inside you, revelling in the warmth of your walls. Barely giving you time to adjust to the sheer size of him (apparently the super soldier serum enhanced more than his muscles), Bucky pulled out before thrusting deep inside you once more.

“Eyes on me, Y/N.” Bucky demanded as your back arched off the floor and your eyes fluttered shut. Bucky’s other warm hand gripped your hip tightly as he pounded into you, hard enough to leave bruises. Hips pistoning back and forth, Bucky grunted as your walls clenched around him. A mix of curses and his name poured out of your mouth as you fought against his grip, wanting nothing more than to touch him.

“Wanna touch you. Please, Bucky.” You moaned, pleasure rippling through you. His hips came to a stop and you cried out, wanting him to resume the pace that had you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky leaned back so that he was seated and you were in his lap. Both of you moaned at the sensation before Bucky was bouncing you on his cock. The new angle had Bucky sliding in deeper and you screamed as he reached the right spot.

“You like that, doll.” Bucky said cockily, enjoying the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“So close, Buck. Gonna make me cum.”

Bucky’s movements became sloppy as he thrust faster, eager to watch your face as you came undone. Your hands wrapped around his biceps, nails digging in and as you matched his pace. Pressing your mouth against his neck, you sucked lightly as your walls clenched along his thick member.

“The thing you do to me.” Bucky muttered. “Been wanting this for ages. Come on, princess.” His metal hand reached down and his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing circles onto it.

Head dropping into the crook of his neck, you moaned his name loudly as your orgasm washed over you. Waves of pleasure had you arching into Bucky, nipples brushing against his slick chest. Bucky fucked you through his orgasm, chasing his own high. When he finally came, his teeth sank into your shoulder to muffle the growl that rumbled through his chest and out his mouth. Hot cum splashed against your sensitive walls and you pulled him closer to you, basking in the after-sex emotions.

“Maybe now you’ll get the hint that I’d like you to take me to dinner.” You smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to the underneath of his jaw. Neither one of you were ready to move from the position you were in and Bucky was in no rush to slip out of the warm walls that perfectly encased him.

“AHHH! Are you fonduing?!”

“Ya’ll nasty.”

Two loud voices pulled the two of you out of the bubble you had created. Cursing, Bucky pressed himself against your body, shielding you from his two friends. Steve had turned his back on you both, hands covering his face as if he would somehow still be able to see you. Sam was staring at the ceiling but his body racked with laughter. Apparently the gym wasn’t the most private place to sleep with your super soldier.

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estrel · 4 years ago

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Are You Happy? (Save Them Some Pie)

HAPPY 42ND BIRTHDAY, DEAN!! this is my gift to him for being my comfort person that i would hug on sight if given the chance 💗 love you dude, may you indulge in copious amounts of pie. ~ 1.5k words.

also dedicated to marlo ( @heller-jensen ), jace ( @thiscastielhasflown ) and dee ( @castee-yel ) thanks for bein real ones <3

[READ ON AO3]

The day had already started out weird enough.

Dean had woken up drenched in sweat, mind racing with the last lingering thoughts of a nightmare. A vamp nest that he and Sam had been hunting, Dean dying in the most ludicrous way possible, and driving Baby down a long road for an indiscriminate amount of time in a supposed heaven that his father (his father) also co-habited. Needless to say, the dream had come out of nowhere, but it was easy enough to forget once the smell of bacon made its way into his room.

Breakfast was hardy and quick, with enough coffee to fuel him for the rest of the day as he skimmed the internet for a possible case. He had the itch, but apparently, looking around at the three sleepy faces around him at the table, no one else did.

He packed up anyway, preparing for what would likely be an easy salt-n-burn; he’d be gone for only a few hours, tops. On his way out, Cas stops him before he can scale the stairs, arm gripping his shoulder tightly. There’s a memory, briefly—the same hand, the same shoulder. Blood.

Dean looks down at it. Back at Cas.

“…Yeah?”

After a moment, Cas lets go. He steps back half an inch as if he had forgotten himself. “Just…be careful.”

Dean nods, moving to leave again, taking the awkwardness as both a Cas thing and a morning thing and content to leave it at that.

“And,” Cas says. Dean turns back.

“Come home.”

Dean picks up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Dean, hey! It’s, uh. It’s me. Krissy?”

Dean feels himself begin to smile, mindful of the road ahead of him. He balances his phone on his thigh while he drives.

“Hey, kid! Long time no call. How are you? Everything okay?”

The case had been as easy as Dean had suspected, but he had that familiar muscle ache and heaviness to his eyes that solo cases usually gave him.

Besides that, he was getting a little confused about all of the calls he’d been getting today. Before Krissy, it had been Garth, and before that, Claire and Jody and…

“Uh, yeah, dude, everything’s good. Um. How are you? How’s Sam and that angel of yours?”

Dean swallows to keep from choking, or potentially crashing the car.

“They’re good. Yeah…good.” Alive, he wants to say, back from the dead, probably in the DeanCave watching Scooby Doo without him. “Sorry, Krissy, ah,” he steps off the break to make a left, “I’m actually on my way home right now. Was there something I could help you with?”

There’s a pause, and Dean chances a glance at his phone to see if the call had dropped off. It hadn’t.

“Krissy?”

“I,” she huffs in what sounds like a laugh, “Nothing, Dean. You get home safe, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“And hey,” Krissy says, before he can say his goodbyes, “Uh, make sure you save some pie for everybody else.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrow a bit, but he laughs. “I will. Take care of yourself.”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Ba-bye.”

Dean’s still mulling over the pie comment when he nearly falls down the stairs, squinting into the darkness of the Bunker.

“What the hell?” he asks, voice hoarse around the high note. “Guys?”

When there’s no immediate answer, Dean’s instincts kick in. He pulls out his gun and gently drops his bag, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust so he can try for the stairs.

Before he can, though, the lights kick back on. His gaze locks onto the scene below, and Dean slowly lowers his gun.

“Happy birthday!” Jack says, the sound of a party horn whining shortly after. Beside him, Cas pulls the string of a party popper, and he jerks as bits of confetti fall around him and into his hair.

Skeptically, Dean starts descending down the stairs.

“You…this…” he manages.

“It’s your birthday, dumbass,” Sam says, swooping forward to slap a party hat on Dean’s head as soon as he’s made the landing. He smiles.

“Oh…kay.” Around them, the Bunker looks pretty normal. The only difference is the array of pies on one of the library tables, next to what looks like home made rice krispie treats, and a couple of birthday-themed plates and napkins. That, and the confetti from Cas’ party popper that litters the floor. “Are you sure?”

Cas frowns at Sam. “Sam was certain. I can’t imagine he’d get the day wrong, but he has had quite severe brain trauma over the years. Perhaps…” Cas reaches out to Sam’s head, probably intent on searching his brain for said trauma, or for the date of Dean’s actual birthday. Sam swats his hand away.

“Hey, no. My trauma is fine. Dean,” Sam redirects his attention to him, “It’s today. Did you really forget?”

Dean shrugs, trying to piece the day together from the beginning. Shitty dream, good breakfast, the three of them weirdly insisting on staying at the Bunker…the calls. Save some pie for everybody else.

He laughs. “So that’s what she meant.”

“That’s what who meant?” Jack asks. He’s wearing a party hat, too, with ridiculous stripes of blue and pink and purple patterned onto it. It matches the one currently strapped to Dean’s own. He shakes his head.

“You’re telling me all of you knew? This whole time? And…and…” He looks around again, pointing vaguely at the table and the confetti. “You put this all together for me?”

Sam shoves his arm playfully. “Course we did. Now quit pouting and come eat some pie.”

Sam is fast asleep, sprawled out on the couch hours later with one of his hands brushing the floor. Dean thinks he spots drool on the pillow underneath him.

Cas has been quiet next to Dean, at least since Jack had disappeared into the kitchen an hour ago and hadn’t come back, thoughtfully tracing the lip of his beer bottle with his finger.

“Something on your mind?” Dean asks, because he wants to know.

Cas continues unbothered. Scooby Doo reruns play in the background. Dean almost repeats the question, but Cas eventually lifts his gaze to stare at him.

“Are you happy?”

Dean presses his mouth shut. Licks his lips. He takes just as long to answer.

“You know what,” he smiles. “I think I am.”

Cas smiles back at him, soft and genuine. The skin around his eyes crinkling tells more than the gentle upturn of his mouth.

Dean swallows, nervously putting his beer down and turning it a few times until his fingers are wet with the condensation.

“What, uh. What about you?” He swallows again. “You happy?”

What he really wants to ask, though, is if they were good. If, after recent events, they were still the same. If Cas was still fine with “just being.”

He’s quiet again. Dean thinks he deserves that, and tries to pay attention to the TV, but the voice in his head is too loud. Cas has to tap his knee to get his attention again.

“Hm?”

“I was saying,” he moves his hand back, “that I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift.”

Dean stares at him. “What are you talking about?”

Cas looks confused, like he’s about to repeat what he just said. Dean stops him short with a wave of his hand.

“Dude, you just got back from the dead, alright? That’s—that’s gift enough to last me a lifetime. Don’t worry about a gift.”

Cas frowns, and Dean rolls his eyes. It’s another few moments of tense silence, until Dean breaks it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“But, uh,” he says, “I might have a gift for you.”

“Dean, we don’t share a birthday. It’s not customary to gift me something, especially when I haven’t given you—“

“Cas,” he groans, officially putting his beer aside and facing him. Cas’ features are lit up with the colors of the TV. Dean reaches a hand up to pluck confetti from his hair, a green piece that he’d been eyeing all night. Hesitating, he lets his hand fall to Cas’ face, smoothing over his cheek and jaw. The TV paints his cheekbone purple. Dean brushes his thumb over it. “Just...shut up and let me do this.”

Cas tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed in that way of his, and Dean thinks he looks perfect. When he dips forward and presses their lips together, it’s perfect, perfect, perfect. He’s warm, his face is burning, eyes almost watering when he pulls away.

Dean lets his forehead rest on Cas’, heartbeat still crazy. He closes his eyes. “We can have it, Cas. This. We can have this.”

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands, lifts it a little to bring them face to face again, so that he’s looking into Dean’s eyes.

“I’d like that, Dean,” he says, and his eyes are wet, too. Happy, Dean thinks.

“Your gift to me?” Dean manages, smile wobbly. He’s teasing, trying to bring down the weight of this without getting rid of all of it. He likes this type of adrenaline rush, different from any hunt he’s been on. Better.

Cas smiles. “I think technically it was you that gifted me, but, yes. My gift to you, if you’ll take it.”

“Gladly,” Dean says.

Cas hums back, brushing his fingers through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. “Happy birthday, Dean.” He leaves a kiss on his forehead.

Happy.

Dean thinks, for the first time, as he pulls more confetti from Cas’ hair, that it actually is.

—

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shamrockqueen · 3 years ago

Text

Little Witch Chapter 2

AO3

Pairing : Werewolf Bucky X Witch Reader

Warnings : Plot before the storm/angst

MasterList

There is light again. Just a little to gloss over each stone, and just enough to tickle the top of my eyelids. They slowly open to the blue, grays, and browns of stone walls.

My muscles are aching against the hard rock floor. ‘What is this place’ is all I can ponder before my eyes fully adjust to the harsh morning. Soon the details of my surroundings become clearer. The stone walls blurred back into a solid picture, and the cave opening was once again in my line of site.

I Move to sit up, only to be halted by a weight wrapped around my stomach. The warmth of the tight muscle curling tighter as to not let me leave.

I slide my hand down to where the weight met my midsection and find it is a large arm...attached to a large man. Soft warm skin trailed with thin body hair leading to a mound of a sleeping man. His hair tousled over his face, and his cheek pressed to the furs splayed out beneath us as his bed.

I drag my nails up the length of his forearm, past his elbow and farther up to his exposed shoulder. When I reach his cheek I push a few strands of his long dark hair out of the way of his still closed eyes. His eyelashes fanned over the stray stubble at his cheeks. Such stubble that leads down to a thicker brush of beard framing a pair of wet lips

I take another moment to collect my memories of the night prior.

I had slipped out of the house and just wandered into the forest last night. Drunk and imagining, Maker knows what. I’d run off chasing these pained cries of what had sounded like a man. Only to find a beautiful beast calling out to me instead. He was whining and growling, yet I could hear every human word. He was calling to me to end his pain!

Truly a voice only for my ears. If it wasn't for the harsh rocks digging into my spine, I would have assumed I was dreaming. It was all too good to be true. At long last he has come to me. He had to be my familiar. And yet, our bond was so much different than I expected. The way he had pounced at me was nothing I’d ever imagined a familiar would do to his witch.

It was a night of intensity, savagery and bliss. I can still remember how it felt when he first stretched me open. His cock having left a dull ache along my inner walls. A mix of slight pain and the thrumming of pleasure not yet touched.

His breathing started to flutter against my fingers. My thoughts had drifted away from me, and I found that my nails were gently raking through his beard.

‘Need I wake him, when he sleeps with the soft demure of a gentle angel?’

The light leaking into the small cave mouth lit up his features and left the warm pinks of his cheeks and skin on full display. I must know what great deed I had done to be gifted with such a beautiful creature to share my life, my home, and my heart.

‘And my bed, apparently.’

The thought springs foward too quickly for me to catch it, and I jerk my hand from his face. His muscles tense at my abrupt movement, yet his warmth doesn’t leave my side. The arm that had once been curled around me was stretched above his head as he yawned. Followed by him wiping his eyes to get a better bearing of his surroundings.

With him sitting up, it leave him to cast his shadow over my face. His features soaking in more of the morning light.

The fur slips away from the plains of his stomach, farther down to brush along the V of his hips and catching to cover his stiffened morning-glory.

My sight traces up the line of each muscle of his abdomen to the tight lines of his neck and shoulders. he shuffles with the furs at his waist as he lifts himself from the bedding and minding to cover himself.

The muscle of his arm twitches as his eyes finally catch mine. Only Briefly, before they leave to roam around the room in search of something.

His clothes were bunched up and piled in the corner. He must have stripped long before I arrived, in anticipation of his transformation. No way of knowing he would have company. He pads over, bare feet slapping against stone, and grabs a handful of his clothes. He turns towards me and shuffles back to where I still sit.

He doesn’t step too close. Only close enough to take stock of my appearance. My skin was still flushed. A dusting of pinking growing around my cheeks. The cold air had caused a break out goosebumps along the length of my arms, and my nipples had hardened underneath the thing fabric of my ruined nightgown.

I was technically fine, if not terribly sore and filthy. My clothes were another matter, entirely.

He could clearly see the sorry state of undress he’d left me in. My clothes were his first issue to handle, before finally nipping this awkward moment in the bud.

He crosses the room to toss me a billowy white shirt, no doubt big enough to cover all of me.

“Put that on”

At last he speaks. A treat I won’t often receive, apparently. His voice horse with disuse but still as deep and melodic as I recalled hearing in my head.

He gives me a quick nod before turning his back to me. No doubt giving me space and decency to cover my shame.

Yet I don’t feel ashamed. There is only a warm sense of need and belonging. I want to be held by him again. Just as he held me throughout the night.

My mind spins as I pull over my head to have it flutter to just above my knees.

Afterward I catch a glimpse of him before I spin away with my back towards him now.

I hadn’t noticed he was finally getting dressed as well and had spied upon the firm contours of his ass.

I had not been fortunate enough the night prior to take in his full form.

‘Is it wrong to want to see him?’

I’d admired him at a closer distance earlier. Watching the morning light bounce off the soft structure of his face.

‘Was I wrong to want to see more?’

It didn’t feel wrong.

It wasn’t until I heard the loud “ahem” of him clearing his throat did I jolt back around. Facing him once again.

“Wh-“ he tightens his lips together before opening them back up with a silent pop.

His mouth just hangs open, and he can barely force out a single syllable.

A lot was swimming in both his mind and mine. This whole encounter wasn’t how I’d expected it to be. Nothing that has happened was expected, under any circumstance. Yet, it has happened, and the Maker made it so.

I can recall the night before in perfect detail. The image of us tangled together burning it’s way into the back of my mind. Everything was moving so fast, I needed only to steady myself. I had to shut my eyes to keep the walls from spinning in my vision.

I knew why he was distraught, and how odd that I wished I knew how to comfort him.

I barely registered the warm trickle of a small tear running down my cheek before opening my eyes to his voice.

“I’m so sorry..” his tone was shaky and this time he was unable to match my gaze. “For everything” he gestured to the pile of furs strewn about his little bedding area.

There was no doubt that this whole situation was gnawing at him in a whole other way.

He continued to stare at the floor as his eyes became wet as well. I wanted those eyes on myself. Even when welling up with pain I wanted to look into them, and maybe even blot the tears away.

“Please..look at me…” I choke back “Let your eyes meet with mine again.” My voice was soft and a near whimper from fighting back a few more tears. He can only blink at the floor. Not yet breaking eye contact with the light flickering off the rocks.

I inch myself towards to him. He doesn’t move away from me, but his shoulders grow tenser the closer I reach.

As slow going as it is, I’m able to make my way to stand before him. Further and further, until The tip of my nose is brushing against the thin and dark body hair that freckled his chest. His muscles went tense, his spine rigid, and the knuckles of his toes curled against the rock floor. Ready to sprint out of my reach at any moment, but he didn’t.

He didn’t even flinch as I eased my hands towards his face and pressed nimble fingers into his temple.

Now as I’m much closer, I can see the drops of sweat that had broken out on his skin.

My presence alone didn’t seem to dispel the fire rising in his veins and his skin started to redden at the edges. I’d only made the pain blossom within him.

I could feel my flesh burning into his. Only barely being cooled by the trickle of sweat from his hairline and down his neck.

Yet, it felt sweet to be wanted so closely. I want very much to have him let me cradle his head in my lap as I rake my fingers through the long dark locks of his hair. But he is a stranger, and I cannot stay. If I left would he follow behind as I found my way back home. Lulling one’s familiar to do thy bidding is common in witch practice. Yet using any magic on him felt..well..wrong. My fingers had begun to loosen their hold, as the guilty thoughts took root.

His hands snap up to catch them before they can fall from his face. His grip is harsh as he presses my fingers back into his flesh.

“NO!”

His growl echoes off the cave walls of the cave. Each ping ringing against the back of my ears.

“Don’t let go!”

“But I can’t stay”

He presses closer until I’m pressed to his chest, drowning in his body heat, and his nose nuzzling into the crook of my neck as if to hide. Whimpering and whining against my skin, I could barely hear him mutter “Don’t leave me.”

“Won’t you come with me?” I ask.

I can feel a jolt run up his not stiffened spine.

I slide my fingers farther up into his hair and coo into his ear.

“Follow closely behind and I promise I will never lead you astray. I need only your trust”

“I don’t deserve yours” he whined, face still buried against my neck.

My powers were often subtle, yet strong. A gentle air to soothe any wound whether it pained one's body or sanity. I need only touch you. I too have knowledge of more natural, calming body language. So I choose to just give him this gentle care.

I could take the pain away so much faster, but something in my gut wanted to bring full relief to the heat surging through his body.

“You already have mine.” It was a faint whisper. More so a thought before an actual statement.

He didn’t answer, or maybe couldn’t. Not with any real words anyway. He gave only a low growl in response.

He stood still in my arms, never once pulling away.

“Come with me, let me take you away”

His nails dig into the loose fabric at the back of the tunic as he fought off his words.

I admire his restraint. How stubborn he was not to let any baser instincts take control, even when it was something he really wanted. This time anyway.

“Come with me, please.” It comes out barely above a whisper from the weight of his silence.

I can’t lose him. Not after everything that led to this moment. Every little piece of him that has been missing from my soul, my mind, and my body. I cannot live without it.

His resolve is weakening, and I can pull my head from his shoulder.

I bring my hands back to his face As I chant

“Look at me.”

Finally a command he follows.

His face shoots up to meet mine. Dark strands of hair dangling over the blue of his darkening eyes. A shot of adrenaline he’d been holding back. Only for him to pause against it, letting the struggle be known on his face.

His arms wrap tighter around my waist. Pulling me harder and harder into his chest.

“Come with me, please.”

He can only give a nod, but it’s a yes.

He tries to squeak out some words. Yet, all that can be made out is “..take me.”

And I do.

I let the dull color of the cave swirl around us in a blur. Some greens and pale blues mixing in as the power Magic’s us away.

I hope that the transportation doesn’t upset his delicate humors. Transporting home may be easy for a witch, but not so much for a rutting wild man.

I hold him tightly as the world spins out before us, until I am once again standing at the edge of my garden.

His muscles slacken against mine, and he’s nearly limp in my arms. By the grace of the Maker he still holds himself up.

His fever had spiked during the transition, and he was no doubt disoriented. I needed to get him inside quickly. Maybe draw him a bath and get him comfortable.

I wanted to care for him and coddle him like the precious creature he is.

Yet there is no time. Turning back to my house I find that half the fucking coven is at my doorstep.

Many are still frantically looking for what I can only assume is me. Others realize I’ve already reappeared at the edge of my garden in a warp of air.

They’re stunned silence quietly building into hushed chatter over the new development.

Many other witches ran from my home, having checked my home for benevolent magic. Some others are behind the tree line, no doubt inspecting my former path into the forest.

It was there at the edge of the wood stood a frantic Romanda still in her nightclothes, with her daughter following closely behind.

The moment she catches sight of me she rushes away from the brush to take me into her arms in a tight embrace. Praises of Maker mumbling off her tongue as she grabs my shoulders. My familiar just stays in the background as all the other witches crowd around me. He stands awkward and drowsily, as he’s still not well from the transportation.

I’m whisked away from his reach and I nearly panic at the loss of his presence. I squeeze out of the crowd of babbling and blubbering witches to try and reach him again. I manage to wiggle out of her grip and she is shouting back at me as I reach my familiar.

“Where in the Maker’s name have you been?!” </p>

I make it to the garden before his dizziness causes him to collapse, and I wrap his arms around me. The coven converges on us to deed the grown curiosity among them. Once he’s secure in my arms I lift my head to her grace and just she looks back at me with utter confusion. In this now silent moment they all take in not only my appearance but the presence of my new companion as well.

My house slippers, gone.

My dress, visibly torn under the tunic he gave me.

My hair, disheveled to say lightly.

Let’s face it, I’m filthy and probably smell like werewolf cock. My familiar fairs no better and grows more and more sick the longer he has to stand.

The grand witch; having taken in this ludicrous display; finally asks as to who this man even is.

I look back at him and can’t help but fumble over the words, but you tell her he is your familiar as you take his arm to loop around your shoulder as you hoist the poor fucker up. He’s sweating like death is breathing into his ear and it’s nearly short of a miracle he hadn’t blacked out yet. Now was my moment. With him slouched in my hand I could finally yell it out to the heavens.

“I HAVE FOUND MY FAMILIAR!!”

A hush falls over the congregation. It was unthinkable and after many years you had all of him to call your own. Many were awestruck and others made snyde remarks under their breath about their assumptions of me dying a lonely old hag.

The grand witch is taken aback but gets the needed words out.

“Oh? Congratulations, my dear”

It is not lost on me that every ounce of heat and intrigue that had been circulating through my veins had dissipated. The build up to this had had us folded in one another’s arms. I could marvel at his strength and self control not to pounce again. This had sadly fallen flat at this moment as I grappled at him just to keep his body upright.

“Stand up, please” I was so close to dropping this poor man. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass him.

They all looked at me worse than they ever looked at me before.

“I can’t..” his words fumble into a growl in my ear as he pushes more of his weight on my body.

They look upon me now, not with pity or sympathy. They looked at me like I had lost my mind. They all looked Possibly scared that I’d kidnapped some village drunk.

It’s all collapsed. Every strong emotion he pulled from the most hidden places in my body. It all came falling as his eyes fell back and my grip failed. His body left mine, and in a panic I fell to the floor with him, as I couldn’t leave his side.

Romanda strode over and knelt with me. She could see more deeply than those around us. She could see his true nature, and understood the cause of his pain.

I felt like I was failing, but she was always patient.

She placed a calming hand on my shoulder in time for me to catch a sob before it could escape. “It will be alright, little one. You will give each other the strength you’ve always needed.”

This was true. He needs me as I need him, and in this moment as I must every moment moving forward, I will be strong for him. The grand witch stands to address the crowd on my behalf.

“As you all know, our familiars are our extension to the realm of the beasts. To have the knowledge of those who live within the elm and crawl upon the earth on their belly.” She swings a hand towards him and I. Her long nails clacking along with the gesture.

“After many years our little witch has waited for the arrival of her familiar, the maker has gifted her a beast in their own image. A creature who toes between the world of man and animal.”

She lifts both hands to the sky to praise our lord's name. “May she be forever grateful for this gift, and from the maker so mote it be.”

All the other witches fall down to their knees, hands raised towards the morning sun in praise.

I press my check to his chest; leaving room to look up at his face; and whisper back “So mote it be.”

He can only whine in response, but he’s able to crane his head towards my voice. For I speak not to the coven, but to him. So let it be that we may be together. I don’t hesitate to give a delicate press of my lips to his own. In front of all present I bestow this gift of affection, and none fail to notice. Many are in awe of this gesture. Few gasp, some murmur to one another, many just stare.

He pushed his neck to catch more of my lips before they left his, but couldn’t quite reach. His head fell back into the dirt.

When the grand witch turns to see this spectacle she shows a soft sense of surprise. Not distaste nor shock.

Once again she must steal the attention back, but mostly trying to give you room to breath.

“Away you to your homes. I will send word when we are to hold this..er..coming of age ceremony for our dear little witch. At long last she can be bonded with her familiar.”

Many try to linger but none dare to stay. Those who fancied to stay a bit longer were those who had brightened my spirits the night prior. Wanda, and Natasha. Yet they too must go.

Her grace did stay, only to ask if I needed help.

I looked back at him, and decided that I could manage. I bid her a good day, and in a blur or air she too was gone.

Everything about last night seemed so far away, and my world stopped the moment I entered that cave. Now everything has ignited again, and I must keep moving. He lays before me, feverish and limp. I cradle what much of him I can hold; namely his head; and hold it to my chest and chant. “Omnipotens da mihi vires ad portandum hunc hominem.”

Finally, I could bring him home. I let my power circle my body to lend strength to my arms before slipping them under his knees.

With my other hand where to his back I press my heels to the floor. With bright blue waves of energy swirling around my legs I step up and pull his body up with mine.

With an awkward size comparison to mine, a fair amount of him dangled off the edge of each arm.

I powered through anyway.

I feel so much more giddy now. A little like I had before. He shifted against my hold but barely. At least he was still breathing. His solid body proved to still be heavy but I did indeed manage.

With all the strength the the Maker could lend me I got him past the garden and through the threshold of my home. Only now it’s our home.

Chapter 3

Translations :

“Omnipotens da mihi vires ad portandum hunc hominem.”

Almighty give me strength to carry this man

#fanfic #fanfiction #bucky x reader #Needy Bucky #werewolf bucky x reader #werewolf bucky #james buchanan bucky barnes #Plot before the storm #Plot #bucky fanfic #new chapter #chapter 2 #Little Witch #angst #pining #pining for Bucky #witch reader #witch #witches

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jaehyunfirstlove · 4 years ago

Text

Inked - part 2

*Part 2 of this, I recommend reading it first before this one :)

Pairing: tattoo artist!jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: smut (18+ only)

Warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (f. receiving), dom/sub, praise kink, cum play, dirty talk, swearing

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77 @mrg-jjh @keeach @the-universe-in-you-jjh @nootnoot-yoonoh @winniet @jaejoongiewifey-blog @iknowyuno @bbyqngels (send me a message/ask if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: because of this anon, I decided to revisit this :)

You’d walked by the tattoo shop several times already, too embarrassed to go in considering what happened the last time you were there. You tried not to recall the memory too much, because your panties would dampen every time you remembered how the tattoo artist had railed you in the chair. He wasn’t able to finish his work though, since you’d hurried out of there afterwards, mortified at your own behavior. Now you had an unfinished tattoo, and you figured enough time had passed that he should’ve forgotten about you, but still you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door and walk in. Feeling like a creep, you eventually left, resolved to try again another day.

---

“What’s up with your tattoo anyway? Is it supposed to look like that?”

You were at the beach with your friend, Yuna, and she was interrogating you about your unfinished tattoo.

“Oh, he didn’t get to finish it.” You said dismissively, hoping she would drop it.

“Why not?” she asked, wrinkling up her nose, “I hope you didn’t pay him for it then.”

You coughed. “Uh, I paid him alright.”

She looked at you, confused, then shook her head. “You’re too nice, you know. You shouldn’t pay people for unfinished work.”

You just nodded, thinking she was probably right, when a shadow suddenly blocked your sunlight. Shielding your eyes you looked up, right into the dark sunglasses of your tattoo artist.

“Hm, that art looks familiar,” he said, a smirk on his face as he pointed to your tattoo. Your jaw dropped open as he stood there above you, Yuna lowering her sunglasses so she could get a better look at him. He was holding a surfboard and he looked like he’d just come in from the water, his hair wet and dripping as he pushed it back from his face. His skin glistened from the sunlight hitting the water droplets on it, highlighting every curve and dip of muscle along his chest and stomach. You swallowed dryly.

“Oh, hi-” you stuttered.

“Jaehyun,” he offered, the smirk still on his face, “I hope you remember me.”

How could I forget, you thought, but just nodded, as you could feel Yuna’s eyes boring into you.

“Why don’t you come by the shop, we’ll finish what we started.” He said, taking off his sunglasses to wink at you, before he nodded politely to Yuna and walked away.

“Y/N, what the actual fuck,” Yuna marveled, as she watched him walk away, “you never told me your tattoo artist looked like that.”

---

You entered the shop hesitantly, rubbing your sweaty palms on the sides of your jeans. The sound of the bell tinkling as you opened the door made you jump, but as you entered the shop you were calmed again by the sounds of cascading water from the zen waterfall, and the soothing scent of lavender. Jaehyun once again appeared from behind the curtain, but made no move towards you. He just stood there, hip jutted out in a cocky stance, head tilted to the side as he regarded you with a look of pure mischief.

“Well, well. Look who it is.” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk, as he looked you up and down. You started to get even more nervous under his gaze, and you started to feel very hot with the way he was looking at you. “Lock the door.”

He said it almost lazily, motioning to the door behind you, but his tone was unmistakable. You did what he said, clicking the door locked and turning back around to face him. He still stood where he was, still watching you.

“Come here,” he said, and once again you obeyed, your feet almost moving of their own accord. Once you were in front of him you stopped, but apparently it wasn’t close enough for him, because he suddenly reached out, slipped his fingers through the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you towards him until you were practically pressed up against him. You inhaled sharply at his sudden action, your chest heaving, and he smiled widely at your reaction.

“Mm, always so responsive,” he breathed, eyes roaming over your body. “Let’s have a look at my work,” he unbuttoned your jeans, slipping them down just past your hips. You were breathing heavily in anticipation, arousal pooling in your core as you felt his fingers on your skin. He traced his finger along the lines of your tattoo, and you had to turn your head to the side as your breathing became more and more labored.

“Hm, this is where I was so rudely interrupted,” his finger stopped its circuit on your skin, and he smirked at you again. Leaning towards your ear, he whispered “do you want me to finish?”

The heat of his breath against your ear, the closeness of his body, and how he smelled so sexy you wanted to devour him, all had such a mindblowing effect on you that your knees went weak, and you fisted your hands into his shirt to support yourself. He just picked you up, laying you on a nearby couch and peeling the rest of your jeans and panties off.

“Should I prep you first? Make sure you don’t make a mess on my chair again?” he asked slyly, his hands on your knees as he waited for your response. You bit your lip and nodded, and given the go-ahead, he slid his palms down your thighs. You were breathing heavily but once he reached your core you held your breath, and as soon as his thumbs touched your wet folds to spread you apart you moaned loudly.

“So expressive,” he smiled, as he leaned in, watching your face the entire time. You were gripping the leather of the couch so tightly, watching him, and as his tongue met your pussy you cried out, an embarrassingly loud noise that made you slap your hand over your mouth. He chuckled at first, but as you continued to be vocal, grabbing at the couch cushions and writhing and bucking your hips, he intensified his pace and fervor, keeping your thighs apart with an iron grip.

“You taste so good, baby, so fucking sweet,” he murmured, lapping up your juices like you were the tastiest dessert he’d ever had. You paused to breathe, but not before he suddenly slid two fingers in between your folds, pumping them as he watched your face.

“I wanna see you come,” he said, because your head was lolling back as your orgasm started to build, “Look at me.”

The low, commanding tone of his voice and his sultry gaze when you locked eyes with him was enough to send you over the edge, a stuttered moan all you could manage as your pussy pulsed around his fingers. You were barely done when he slipped them out of you, pulling his own pants and boxers down and sitting on the couch beside you. He pulled you to straddle him, and once you were situated on his thighs he pumped his half-hard cock, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You’re sexy when you come,” he said, regarding you with a smirk and a tilt of the head. You felt your cheeks warm up but you didn’t know if it was because of his compliment or the fact you just had a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Th-thanks,” was all you could say, your voice already hoarse from how vocal you had been when he ate you out.

“You’re welcome,” he grinned, before he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Now, ride me.”

You bit your lip, clinging to his shoulders as you sunk down onto his cock. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the stretch, your head falling back as you took more and more of him in.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, holding your hips, “so fucking tight for me.”

When he was all the way inside you, you paused to breathe, resting your head on his shoulder. You had a good close-up view of the tattoo on his neck, and you remembered how you had wanted to mark him up. You kissed along the lines of his ink, then traced the design with your tongue, sucking here and there to see if the marks would show up. He groaned as you worked, his cock twitching inside you, and soon enough it encouraged you to move, grinding your hips against him.

“Fuck, baby, that feels good,” he moaned, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You increased your pace, snapping your hips and varying the angle until you found the perfect one, and you cried out as his tip hit your sweet spot. He took your cue, thrusting upwards into you as you rode him, your combined action sending you hurtling towards your second orgasm of the day.

“I’m gonna come!” you warned, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face there.

“Give it to me, baby,” he growled, reaching between you and thumbing your clit vigorously. You came with a muffled scream, your face still buried in his neck, your entire body convulsing as your pussy throbbed. He kept going, controlling the pace now, his thrusts never faltering. He lifted your shirt over your head and unhooked your bra, pulling you back so he could look at you. With appreciative eyes he looked you over, smirking slightly even as he pumped into you.

“So fucking sexy,” he mused, eyes roaming over your curves. You bit your lip as he watched you, arousal once again building in your core. He saw it in your face, your mouth parting slightly and eyes widening, so he bucked harder and faster, watching your face the entire time.

“That’s it,” he said, reaching up to tweak your nipples, “give me another one.”

His eyes never left your face as you reached your climax, watching you with lust in his gaze. He didn’t give you a chance to recover, flipping you onto your back on the couch and throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, baby, you drive me crazy,” he grunted, driving deeper into you, still watching your face with hooded eyes. “So fucking sexy, so good for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, falling apart at his praise, and his cock hitting so deeply. “Oh my god, Jae, oh my god,” you panted, you didn’t think you had it in you anymore, but you felt yourself coming again, this one threatening to be a big one.

“That’s a good girl, I know you got another one for me,” he bent down and sucked a nipple into his mouth, all the while keeping his eyes on your face, not wanting to miss a single second of the look on your face as you came.

“Oh fuck! Jae!” you screamed as you came, your limbs shaking as your orgasm reverberated throughout your body. He grunted as he started to come inside you, before he pulled out and pumped the rest of his cum all over your pussy and stomach.

“Another mess,” he smirked at you, sitting back on his heels to admire his work. You just lay there, exhausted and unable to move, but he had to admit, the way you looked so fucked out was really attractive to him. Reaching over to a nearby shelf he pulled out a fresh towel and started to wipe you up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and finish that tattoo.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

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vukovich · 3 years ago

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*** Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖 ***

Thanks, @tenthousandyearsx!

I'm very lazy tonight, so y'all just get excerpts as justifications.

My favorites vary by day, but today's five are:

Vis à Vis à Vis:

Pain exploded through his face, an iron-hot tide in his nose. His vision left in a wavering black wash, and his eardrums rang. The shoe lifted, destined for another blow, but hesitated. A camera clicked. The girl with the Polaroid camera? And another click. From a different direction. And another. A murmur in the crowd. A young woman's horrified screech. “Shit,” the Doppelgänger whispered. Harry heard an over-loud toaster pop, and the Doppelgänger was gone. He lay bound and bleeding, unidentifiable as himself. His last thought before he lost consciousness was that they’d done this before.

Fearful Trill:

And Draco…What would he leave to Draco? What should a dead man leave to his first and only lover? One who’d only been so for a few days? What was a fitting memorial for a love that didn’t have time to bloom? His throat tightened, and a tear gathered in the corner of his eye, then ran down his temple. He swallowed, muscles clicking against the strain of a waiting sob. A mayfly of a romance, dying as soon as it drew its first breath. Because it was something. Some kind of affection. The kind forged in battle and hammered smooth by hurried caresses. A distinct version of love that faced death, unflinching.

Heels Flat, Chin Up:

The golden light overhead carves shadows along the muscles in my thighs, and I want Blaise and Theo to see me like this. They’ve called me a scrawny disappointment more times than I can count. They have no idea how I look when I’m lost in the sway of my own body. They’ve never watched my dick slap against my belly as I ride a thick cock. Precome glitters in the hair below my navel, and sticky strands of it trace down my thighs. I hope those bastards are outside with their hands in their pants watching me, desperate to know what I taste like and how much longer I can last.

Manna:

Harry's fist nestled between the rails, and he fucked into it, slow and silent. Heavy weight built behind his dick, and he smothered his breathing against his forearm. Malfoy's nostrils flared again, and Harry came in a soundless scream, teeth digging into his arm. His body jerked, cloak sliding against the rails. His hand filled with his release, a molten secret.

Sonorous Sonnet:

Dark corner booth, resigned to linger. I watch him, shit-faced, begin to teeter, Whilst I, fracture-hearted, nimble-fingered, Transcribe exile via slapdash meter.

I'm apparently in an angst/violence/exhibition mood tonight. Go figure.

I wanna know your personal faves, @wheezykat, @peachpety, @amorsindolor, @fw00shy

#tag game

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luffles424 · 4 years ago

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Luminous

☼ Pairing: Jimin x reader

☼ Genre: tentacle monster!Jimin, some fluff, smut, mostly just pwp

☼ Count: 9k

☼ Warnings: 18+, public sex (no ones around but they’re on the beach), tentacles (kind of a given), big dick jimin, manhandling, lots of cum, some cumplay, creampie, cum inflation/belly bulge (not a whole lot, just a small bump) unprotected sex, restraints, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tit fucking, thigh fucking, oral (m recieving), deep throating, anal, double penatration, minor nipple play, praise kink, mating cycles, slight impreg kink

☼ Summary: The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here.

☼ a/n: This was written for Sol’s (jamaisjoons) collab event ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ and my prompt was ‘watching fireworks.’ Uhhh this idea was originally very different and then I started thinking about tentacles and now here we are 🥴🥴🥴 Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Banner made by the absolutely amazing @jamaisjoons (who did such wonderful work on it and I hope the fic lives up to the beautiful banner she made me 💕💕💕)

You let out a small contented sigh as you slip your feet into the water. This is your favorite place in all of Busan, this hidden little jutty of rock just off one of the smaller, less popular beaches, more popular among locals only. You’ve spent more time than you can count out here hanging out with your friends, passing the time and using the salty sea breeze to help combat the heat of summer. You’ve been out here plenty on your own too, just like how you’re out here alone right now.

The sun’s dipping below the horizon, the sky slowly turning an inky black. The perfect backdrop to what’s going to happen soon and the main reason you’re out here at all to begin with rather than at home. The summer festival is happening and once the sun disappears, the sky will be decorated with fireworks, and you and your friends discovered years ago that this is the best spot to watch them, unobstructed and no one around to fight for seats.

You kick your feet idly in the water, enjoying the warmth of it as you lean back on your hands as you watch the last few rays of light slip away. You wished your friends could’ve made it though. But Namjoon was stuck in the city for work and Taehyung was out with his girlfriend at the festival. A brief feeling of sadness overcomes you because you had been planning to go with Taehyung and his girlfriend and your own boyfriend as a double date. Until he dumped you a week ago over text because he’d moved to the otherside of the country and apparently was nothing like the man you met since he didn’t even have the balls to break up in person.

You suspect that there was a lot more than his flimsy excuse of it’s just not working and long distance is hard. It most likely has something to do with the new girl that you’ve been told about that has shown up on his socials.

For what it’s worth, Taehyung and Namjoon both offered you company but you waved them off. Namjoon’s job opportunity is much more important and as much as you love Taehyung and his girlfriend, you didn’t particularly feel like being third wheel to their (normally adorable and heart warming) love.

You think this is better anyway. It’s peaceful out here. The smell of salt being carried by the breeze brings a myriad of memories that all bring a smile to your face and it’s easy to forget about the hard things in this moment. It’s healing to be out here. As much as it sucked that you got dumped, you can’t be too upset. You saw the cracks forming the more he opened his mouth and talked, if he hadn’t done it, you likely would have been doing it soon anyway. You let your head fall back, letting your eyes slip closed as you simply enjoyed this. You should tell the others that you all need to make another trip out here soon.

Plus you’d come much earlier when the sun was still high and swam some. Using the ebb and flow of the ocean to erode your worries and stress. Then you’d sprawled out on your beach towel on your rocky perch and let the sunset dry your skin before you slipped back into your shorts and tank top and allowed the peacefulness to swallow you.

You startle slightly when there’s a loud, echoing boom and color flashes across the sky. You’d been lulled into such calmness and had almost forgotten why you were out here to begin with. You watch the sky passively, watching the occasional flash of color and shapes as the firework people warm themselves and the crowds up. You know the real show won’t start for at least another 45 minutes, knowing the tell by the fact that there’s still the faintest of traces of blue on the horizon.

Your feet continue their idle movements in the water, until something slick brushes the bottom of your foot and you scream on instinct, quickly jerking your foot free from the water. You back up an extra foot from the edge, to the safety of the blanket that you spread across the rocks, just as an extra precaution. You’re sure that whatever touched you was probably just seaweed. Maybe a plastic bag or some other trash that someone carelessly threw into the ocean. But anything touching you in the water when the water is nothing more than an inky black expanse is enough for you to decide that’s enough soaking for the night.

Just as your heart rate is returning to normal, something slips over the edge of the rocks where you’d just been sitting. It gleams in the moonlight, silver, smooth, and shiny, as it makes a cursory probe at the edge, like it’s looking for something. It’s probably no thicker than your thumb and you deliriously wonder if octopi are even capable of coming up on dry land, let alone the reason why one might be coming up right now. Though the longer you stare at it, the more you realize that it’s far too smooth to be from an octopus, completely devoid of the telltale suckers.

You shuffle a little further away. You really don’t want to move too quickly, not if you don’t know what it even is and if it can follow you or how fast whatever it is. But your slight movement only seems to catch it’s attention and to your growing horror, it lashes out almost faster than you can see and wraps itself firmly around your ankle. You scream again, because aside from that, there’s really very little you can do out here all alone with it on you.

Any attempts to free yourself prove futile, the slender appendage is far stronger than you would’ve expected from such a jelly-like creature. It gives its own experimental tug, one that pulls you marginally closer to the water before you once again scramble backwards. It lets you and that just serves to freak you out more.

Then, a few more tentacles appear over the edge of the rock, watering dripping and spreading out around them and then there’s a… hand? You frown as a seemingly human hand, if perhaps a little ashen looking, plants itself on the rock right alongside the tentacles. The fingers flex for a moment before something, somehow even more surprising, appears. A fairly human face, or at least up to the eyes as that’s the furthest it raises, peaks up over the edge, gaze quickly zeroing in on you. Your heart stutters in your chest as your eyes meet and its pale silver eyes gleam like its tentacles. It’s hair is wet and slicked back and, though the locks are currently water logged and a few shades darker, it’s clearly also a similar shade of silver as its tentacles and eyes.

Another hand joins the first along the edge of the rocks and for a moment it doesn’t move at all. You stare at it, you know it’s definitely bigger than an octopus now. You don’t think you could take it. It’s dead silent aside from the gentle lapping of the waves and you’re terrified to move for fear of what it’s going to do to you. It gives the slightest of tugs on your ankle and when you don’t budge it finally lifts itself from the water.

You try to back away again, but it’s grip keeps you in place and you let out a startled scream when another tentacle darts out to wrap itself around your other ankle. The… monster… sits on its knees at the edge for a moment after pulling itself from the water.

It, he?, looks almost perfectly human. Skin a dimmed golden shade, frame small but packed with lean muscle… apparently well endowed in human terms. You jerk your gaze quickly away when you realize just where you're staring. Your life is on the line, now is not the time to to fucking ogle the monster and think about if he can get hard like a human and if it possibly gets bigger. You force yourself back to his face, cheekbones prominent and lips plush as he seems to be looking you over as well, though his gaze continually seems to dart behind you, brows knitting in confusion.

His eyes appear almost human except that it doesn’t seem like he has a pupil, silver swallowing the whole of the iris. It’s slightly disconcerting. His tentacles shift behind him, drawing your attention to them finally. The ones not on you shift behind him restlessly, never seeming to settle. A thin one drapes itself on his shoulder before slithering across his skin to the other side, forming a strange sort of living necklace. It’s hard to pin down an exact number with them constantly moving, but there seems to be a lot and they seem to come in primarily two sizes, thinner ones like the one draped around his throat and wrapped around your ankles and thicker ones easily the width of 3 or 4 fingers, you try very hard not to compare their girth with what you had glimpsed between his legs.

You’re trying to formulate a plan to get away when there’s another boom of a firework, bathing everything pink for a moment. And what you’re certainly not expecting is for the way the monster startles at the sound. The tentacles around your ankles tighten almost painfully and then before you can completely comprehend what’s going on, you’re being pulled closer to him. Once you're close enough, he’s leaning down over you and you squeeze your eyes shut, unsure of what’s about to happen but positive that it’s unlikely to be good.

But nothing happens and as the seconds stretch, you slowly peek an eye open. His face is almost directly above yours, but it’s not you that he’s looking at. Instead, he’s studiously scanning your surroundings, looking tense and on edge. When you glance at the way that he’s leaning over you, you realize that he seems to be almost… protecting you? Which only serves to confuse you more.

Deeming there to be no immediate threat, his gaze turns down to you and you freeze now that you're faced with him this close. He blinks down at you before his lips part and he makes a strange sort of clicking sound, but you’re more focused on the sharp teeth revealed when he makes noise. Definitely sharp enough to tear into you and eat his fill.

“Please don’t eat me,” you squeak out, hands coming up to cover your face.

There’s silence for a moment before a deep chuckle sounds from him. You peek between your fingers at him and there’s a smirk stretching his lips.

“Oh, I have met your kind before.” His voice is soft and surprisingly melodious given the higher pitch the clicking was.

You can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “My kind?”

His lips twitch and he tilts his head. “Humans. Are you not human?” He pushes himself up slightly to inspect you again. “You do not appear to be one of my kind.”

“There’s more of you?”

His gaze darts around. “A few.”

You swallow, about to speak again when another firework goes off. He startles above you and drops closer once more, body pressed firmly to yours as he glares around, trying to discover the source.

You’d laugh at his constant startling if your throat wasn’t suddenly so dry. His chest is every bit as firm as it looked and you can feel every shift and ripple as he looks around. It’s incredibly distracting. Why did the monster have to be hot? You squeeze your eyes shut again. You should not be thinking about how it’d feel to touch the monster with your hands. Or how other parts of him would feel.

He shifts off of you slightly. “It is safe for now.”

You blink your eyes open, frowning at him. “Safe? What are you talking about?”

His head tilts and he reminds you of a confused puppy. “Do you not hear the loud noises?”

A giggle slips out and that seems to perplex him further. “No, no. I do. It’s just… Have you not been around here before?”

“I have always lived here.”

“Have you… been on land before?”

His brows pinch and there’s the slightest of flushes coloring his cheeks a deep blue-gray. “I come up here every year.”

“How have you not heard them before then? They’re just fireworks.” You see the streak of a new one and point to it quickly, drawing his attention to it just before it reaches its peak and explodes in a sparkling cascade of gold. “They’re for entertainment. They’re not dangerous.” You pause. “Okay they are. But not at this distance. The only people who could possibly be in danger would be the ones firing them.”

“Fire… works?” He mumbles, sitting back on his haunches as his face remains tilted towards the sky even though the phosphorus has long since burned out. “Will there be more?”

You slowly push yourself up, cautious of what he might do but his focus remains firmly upwards. “Yeah, they’ll keep shooting some singles off for a little bit longer then they’ll start the big show.”

He says nothing else and you wonder if you can use the time to slip away before you realize that he still has two tentacles wrapped around your ankles. There goes your chance for escape. At least he doesn’t seem interested in eating you. Yet.

Another firework goes and you watch his eyes widen as he follows its trajectory up until it stops in an explosion of color and sound. But you’re far more taken watching the childlike glee on his face and the way the colors gleam on his skin and tentacles. The colors add another level to his already stunning looks, making him look far more ethereal and angelic. He grins as he watches and he looks much less like a terrifying monster. Though you worry what will happen once the fireworks stop and there’s nothing to distract him. Maybe when the real show starts he’ll be so engrossed that you can slip yourself free of the tentacles and make a quick and quiet escape.

You shake your head, looking away and up at the sky too. There’s nothing much you can do right now with their grip on you still too tight, so you might as well also watch the show. The fireworks are slowly starting to increase in frequency and he seems to squirm in excitement the closer together the pops of color come.

“Do you have a name?” You ask suddenly, looking back over at him. Maybe you can text Namjoon or Taehyung and tell them that if you disappear to look for something with that name. Probably Taehyung. He’d be more likely to believe that you’ve been taken by a monster than Namjoon. He’d probably ask if you’ve drank or smoked anything. Get too drunk camping once and claim that bigfoot tried to kidnap you and you never get believed again.

He doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even seem to acknowledge that you spoke. But then his lips purse and he looks over at you for a moment. “Jimin.”

“Jimin?” He bobs his head and turns back to catch another firework going off. “My name’s Y/n.” You murmur, unsure if he’s even interested.

It hurts a little that he didn’t seem interested in you back, but you suppose that you don’t know whatever his monster customs are. And you really shouldn’t look too deeply into why it hurts that a monster doesn’t seem interested in you. That should be a good thing. It means you have a better chance of getting away.

There’s a long break in the fireworks and Jimin’s lips push out into an adorable pout as he turns to you with sad eyes. “Is it over?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. It’s actually just getting ready to get started. Now it’s the big show. You thought it was good before. Just wait.”

He gives a simple nod and turns back to the sky, content to wait patiently for the rest. Silence descends on you both and you feel like you should be more worried about the tentacle monster sitting in front of you. But Jimin seems harmless enough, he certainly hasn’t tried to eat you or anything and that’s certainly got to count for something. He seems far more interested in the fireworks than in you now anyway.

You’re just starting to relax when something cool and damp brushes the skin of your lower back. You freeze, back stiff as whatever it is tentatively touches the warm skin before slithering further up your shirt. You bite down on the urge to scream, you don’t want to startle Jimin again. Just because he was protective before, doesn’t mean that a scream coming from you would produce the same result. And before you can twist to see what is crawling up your shirt, the tentacles around your ankles slide a little further up your legs, ends timidly probing along your flesh as they go.

Another tentacle, one of the thicker ones, slides across your arm, wrapping once around your wrist and nestling the tip into your palm. The cool sensation is bizarrely familiar and it takes you only a moment to realize that whatever crawled up your shirt a moment ago is another tentacle. You’re about to speak when a thin tentacle trails up your arm to rest against your shoulder, gently tracing your jaw and neck.

You swallow. “Um, Jimin?” All you get is a hum in response. Does he not realize what’s going on? “Jimin? What’s happening?”

Either your words or tone finally pulls his attention to you and when he sees his tentacles wrapped around you, he flushes a pretty blue. He scoots away, working to encourage them to release you, but this time of year they always have a bit more mind of their own. He makes an irritated clicking noise when they don’t move.

The one in your hand seems to respond to his sound though you’re not sure if it’s the way he wanted it to or not but it tightens around your wrist slightly before becoming… slicker?

You look at it, a weird mix of horror and maybe a little arousal. Maybe you shouldn’t have watched so much hentai when you were younger. You look back up at Jimin, at a complete loss. “Jimin?”

Jimin looks incredibly embarrassed, burying his face in his hands and making more distressed clicking noises. Probing tentacles aside, he looks adorable all flustered like this. A few of his tentacles wrap around his wrists and shoulders, patting his skin soothingly but that only seems to make him more distressed.

The tentacle at your back has reached the tie to your bikini top beneath your shirt and is prodding at the knot with interest. You don’t know what to do to stop the distress you can practically feel coming from Jimin. The tentacle in your hand squirms slightly, drawing your attention back to it. You swallow, sneaking a quick peek at Jimin as you do the only, seemingly illogical, thing you can think of right now and you close your hand around the rowdy tentacle and squeeze.

The result is instantaneous and certainly not what you had expected. Jimin moans. So then even if he’s not in control, he can still feel through them. Interesting to know. Jimin’s mouth hangs open for a moment before his gaze is meeting yours and you suddenly feel like maybe that was the wrong thing to do.

There’s simmering fire in his eyes as he tries to speak as calmly and evenly as possibly. “I told you I come here once a year, correct?” You nod and he continues. “I come here to mate.”

You blink at him, mind completely blanking out. “M-mate?” You hate how high your voice sounds.

He nods, sending a glare at the tentacles touching you. “When I saw you here, I had assumed you were one that I have spent the mating period with before.”

“Fuck, did I ruin your hookup?”

“Hookup?”

Your body heats with embarrassment. Maybe if you ask nicely, Jimin will let you go drown. “Whoever you were supposed to meet here. Did they not show up because I was here?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I did not have plans. But sometimes if someone is near they will stop by. If they are not, I can take care of myself.”

The image of Jimin splayed out on the rocks by himself, tentacles sliding across his skin, wrapped around his cock, drawing more of those noises from him shoots straight to your core. Your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand accidentally tightens around Jimin’s tentacle again, drawing a gasp from him.

“I apologize for not warning you sooner. The fireworks distracted me but it appears that it did not distract them.” He gestures to his tentacles. “Give me a moment and I should be able to free you so you can leave.”

His eyes slip closed and your gaze drags over him, startling slightly when you realize he’s started to grow hard too. You feel crazy that the first thing you think is how badly you want to touch.

This is such a bad idea, but before you can stop yourself or second guess, you’re speaking. “What if... you didn’t though?”

Jimin freezes, but the tentacles seem to grow more restless at your words. Another thick one stretches the distance between you both to rest against your thigh, slicking your skin wherever it touches.

“You do not know what you are saying.” He grits out.

The tentacle in your hand squirms and you give it a small squeeze, maintaining eye contact with Jimin as you do so you get to fully enjoy the shudder that ripples through him. “I um, think I have a pretty good idea what I’m saying.”

He shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. You didn’t think it would be so hard to convince a tentacle monster that you wanted him to fuck you. This was by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. For all you know, he could eat his partner afterwards. If you live past this encounter, no one would ever let you live it down. If they even believed you. Your gaze drops involuntarily back to his cock and you find that he's fully hard now. And it’s almost a little intimidating how big he is, longer and thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before. You don’t think your fingers would be able to wrap around the girth. But any apprehensions you think you’d feel normally are nowhere to be seen, all you feel is overwhelming want. You want to try to fit him, to feel the burn as he stretches you out. You want to taste and you want him to absolutely ruin you.

Unsure of any other way to convince him that you do want this, you switch tactics. If you can’t convince him with words, you’ll just have to show him what you want. You release the tentacle in your hand, though it keeps itself wrapped around your wrist, and move to remove your shirt. Seeming to know your plan, or maybe just through a stroke of luck, the tentacle that has been exploring your bikini top seems to have discovered how to undo the ties and as your top hits the ground beside you, your top slips to your lap.

His eyes dip to the scrap of fabric in your lap before they trace slowly back up, expression worryingly blank. You belatedly realize that this might not even be a good signal to him that you do want this. You don’t know what others of his kind look like, if any of them look anything like you. For the most part, he looks human enough, you’d think that maybe this was enough, that maybe this is at least sort of familiar to him. You feel suddenly self conscious, this was such a dumb idea. You really shouldn’t let the horny brain lead. You’re just about to cross your arms to cover yourself when the tentacle that had been on your thigh slithers up your stomach to sit between your breasts.

You glance at Jimin and his eyes seem darker, jaw clenched tight. His tentacles seem to grow more agitated behind him and the ones around your ankles tighten to tug you closer, both to your surprise and apparently also Jimin’s. He flushes, staring down at you with wide eyes as your thighs come to rest against his.

The tentacle on your chest squirms and Jimin’s gaze drops to watch. Your gaze drops too, intending to look at the tentacle currently writhing around on your chest and smearing slick there but you only make it halfway. Because Jimin is now fully hard, thick cock curving up towards his belly and the sight of it has you enraptured. He looked big when he was still soft, but now fully hard, or at least what you assume is fully hard, he looks positively massive. The skin of his cock is the same muted tan of the rest of him, the tip almost blue-gray, close to the color his cheeks turned but deeper in color, and it’s leaking more silvery looking fluid. You wonder if it’s the same thing that is leaking from his tentacles.

Jimin shudders and it takes only a moment for you to realize that the reason is because a thin tentacle has wrapped itself around the base of his cock. It makes you want to touch too. So tentatively, you reach out, gaze flicking between his cock and his face to gauge his reaction and giving him more than enough time to pull away.

He watches your fingers brush against the tip, dragging a smear of slick further down the shaft but he makes no move to stop you. He lets out a shaky exhale and, emboldened by the noise, you wrap your fingers around him. Or you at least try your best to because his girth keeps your fingers from meeting.

Jimin makes a rumbling noise and then there are two more tentacles massaging at your thighs, working their way up until they meet the edge of your shorts. They only probe along the fabric for a moment before slipping beneath and continuing their exploration towards the apex of your thighs. They trace the edge of your bikini bottoms before one of them presses against your pussy through the thin fabric.

You gasp and Jimin’s gaze is back on your face, attention wholly focused on you as his tentacles press again, but this time with a little more pressure. One happens to brush past your clit and you jolt, a moan slipping from your lips and the tentacles seem desperate to recreate that reaction as they narrow their focus to your clit.

Jimin groans again and his hands come up to cup your cheeks, his tentacles all stilling for a moment. He waits until you look up at him. “Are you sure? It will be harder to stop once we start. Are you positive you can handle it? I do not mind spending the time alone.”

It’s sweet how concerned he is about you. But now that he’s started, all you can think about is being fucked by him while his tentacles play with every inch of you. You squirm back slightly and he seems to take that as rejection, if the flash of disappointment you catch on his face is anything to go by. You quickly undo your shorts, tugging them down your legs, assisted by his tentacles once they reach your ankles.

He swallows and you watch as the tentacles from your ankles relocate to your thighs to keep you spread wide as the two that had been in your pants resume their work on your clit, now free of the hindrance of cloth. You bring your slick fingers to your mouth and keep eye contact as you lick them clean. It’s salty like the sea, but rather than the bitterness of cum, his has a hint of sweetness to it. It’s slightly addictive.

He stares at you for a moment and then he’s making another clicking noise and the tentacle that had been around your wrist unwraps itself and slips between your legs to join the other two already there, though it bypasses your clit to circle your dripping hole instead.

“Needy.” He coos, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or his tentacles. Maybe both.

He shuffles in close again, seemingly content to just watch his tentacles play with you. You whine, you like the feel of his tentacles, but you want him to touch with his hands and lips too. You want more. Maybe the needy was directed at you after all. He glances up at your noise, watching the way your mouth drops open as his tentacle finally wriggles it’s way into your pussy. It’s firmer than you expected from touching it, but still much more malleable than a cock would be. But it’s softer nature allows it greater freedom to explore your walls as it moves slowly in and out of you, certainly a different experience for you but you definitely can’t find it in you to hate it when it can reach all the right spots inside of you easily.

You reach out, grabbing the first part of Jimin you can grab, his arm, and tug him insistently down on top of you. He complies easily, seemingly curious as to what you want. You wonder if he’s ever kissed a partner before, if that’s something that his kind does. You hesitate and Jimin immediately notices, head tilting in curiosity.

“What is wrong?”

You’re gasping before you can formulate your question, the tentacle inside you having quickly found your g-spot and is now making sure to rub it with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Jimin’s head dips down and his nose rubs against yours.

“Are you okay? I have never been with a human and so I am unsure of what might hurt or bring pleasure. Please tell me if they are hurting you.”

He looks so sweet and it makes your heart stutter a little. You tilt your head, capturing his plush lips in a kiss. They’re warmer than you expected, giving the cooler temperature of his tentacles. It takes him a moment of inaction before he seems to catch on to how to kiss back. He makes a small noise when your tongue brushes his lips but he easily parts them for you. His sharp teeth skim your lip and it leaves you gasping into his mouth. He seems pleased with the response and he trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck.

“You did not answer my question.” He murmurs, teeth gently teasing the skin of your neck, mindful of their sharpness.

His tentacles are driving you mad, bringing you so close to your orgasm but seeming to know exactly when to slow back down to draw it out even longer. “What… question?” You gasp out.

“Are you okay?”

You’d scoff if the tentacles around your clit hadn’t started circling in tandem, winding the coil in your belly tighter. “So… so okay… Fuck, Jimin, are you sure you’ve never been with a human before?”

He pulls away from your neck enough to look down at you, a pleased smile stretching his lips. “I have not. Am I doing good?”

You nod enthusiastically, hands tangling in his hair to pull him back in for a messy kiss. He makes a pleased sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat and his tentacles speed up. And this time when your orgasm draws near his tentacles keep their speed rather than slowing again and you cum, back arching off the blanket as your pussy convulses around the tentacle. His tentacles continue their ministrations and Jimin pulls away to stare down at where his tentacle disappears inside you with wide eyed wonder.

He groans as he watches with rapt attention. “Does it do this every time?”

You squirm, oversensitivity quickly setting in as his tentacles refuse to let up. The borderline painful feeling robs you of words to tell him to slow down and give you just a moment to breath. The tentacle inside of you swells and then everything grows a little slicker as Jimin chokes on a gasp. You struggle to reach out to grasp any one of the tentacles, to just lessen the sensations ravaging your pussy just a little, but before you can even make contact, another tentacle is wrapping around both wrists and dragging them above your head.

“J-Jimin, please…”

Jimin pays you no mind, tentacles working faster under his focused gaze and it doesn't take long for you to be thrown into a second orgasm, though it feels almost like the first one never ended. You cry out, much too loud even if the beach is seemingly deserted right now. You shudder as your orgasm crests and Jimin’s tentacle seems to stiffen inside you before you feel suddenly wetter and stickier and full. The tentacle slips out of you after a few weaker thrusts and a small gush of thick liquid follows and the tentacle suddenly seems much less enthusiastic than its counterparts. Fuck, did that mean…?

“Jimin,” you whine, waiting until he finally tears his gaze away from your dripping pussy. “Do… do your tentacles cum too?”

His head tilts in confusion. “Come?” He thinks for a moment before realization seems to overcome him. “Ah. Do you mean do my tentacles also release?”

Embarrassment creeps over you. Something so clinical shouldn’t have you aching to be filled again when you just came twice and apparently already filled. You nod shyly.

“Yes. They also release. It is to give the best chance of a successful mating.”

You swallow, eyeing the tentacles behind him wearily. “Do they all have to?”

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “They do not. Only the big ones release. And from those, they do not all release every mating.”

You feel equal parts relieved and disappointed, though you know that you should probably question your disappointment. But you’ve already come this far, no reason to start questioning your potentially bad decisions now.

He tilts his head. “Does it bother you? They do not need to do it near you if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You choke, unsure how to respond for a moment. This whole situation should really terrify and appall you. But you only find yourself growing hotter at the idea of being used by his tentacles and covered in their cum. You chew your lip before giving a small nod.

His eyes trace over your face before he seems to light up and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “Does the thought of that arouse you, sweet? I must admit, most of my previous partners were less than enthused about that aspect of mating.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in your hands in shame but Jimin’s tentacles keep your hands studiously bound above your head. Even his own kind didn’t like it. Why were you so weird? He giggles, leaning down to brush your nose with his own. His face is set with a kind smile, but his eyes still dance with mirth and lust.

“I find it very arousing that you like it so much. Tell me what you are thinking about, sweet.”

To punctuate his words, another tentacle slips between your legs, rubbing along your sticky slit. You moan and Jimin’s eyes shine with fire. “I… was thinking about you fucking me and filling me up and leaving me all messy.”

He smirks. “I can do that, sweet. Just ask.”

“Jimin, please, fuck me… Fuck, ruin me…”

Jimin’s grin turns positively feral, sharp teeth on display. And for a moment, fear ripples through you as Jimin looks truly like a monster for the first time since he’s surfaced. But then his tentacles shift around him, eager for their chance to touch. Jimin shoos the thick tentacle away from your pussy, the ones around your thighs assisting him in situating you how he wants. He runs the tips of his cock through the mess left there by his tentacle and a pleased chirp leaves him.

“You are already so full. Do you think you can take more?” He purrs.

You nod and his cock presses against your entrance. He presses just the tip in and he stretches your pussy more than the tentacle did. You gasp, breath robbed from you as the stretch borders on too much. But Jimin seems to sense it and pauses with just the tip inside, allowing you all the time to adjust to his massive cock.

Jimin’s hands skim up your thighs, the tentacles resting passively on your clit once again coming to life and the jolt of pleasure has you squirming on Jimin’s cock. His hands rest on your hips, gripping them with bruising strength to keep you from moving. You whimper at the casual display of strength, at the way that he seems to not even be trying to hold you still while his tentacles slowly circle your clit to get you to relax.

Two other tentacles slip up your body, pressing against your breasts and kneading at the flesh experimentally. The sensation is different, while the tentacles don’t have the surface area the way a hand does, they are capable of moving in ways a hand simply can’t. They grope at the flesh, exploring and testing the limits. One brushes past your nipple, causing you to gasp and suddenly both are on the pebbled buds, playing with them to draw even more noises from you. Their motions mimic the motions on your clit and pleasure sparks across your body once again.

The tentacles shift slightly, long bodies draping down the sides of your breasts and then they press the mounds inwards, forcing the flesh together around the tentacle still resting on your sternum. Jimin grunts at the sudden pressure around his tentacle and your gaze drops to watch with fascination as the tentacle starts to thrust into the tight space, silvery tip gleaming with each press through.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of it slipping a little further up and into your mouth, of tasting that salty, sweet slick from the source. A high pitched noise sounds in Jimin’s throat as his hips stutter forward at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him and you moan as he slips a little further into you, stretching you just a little more. Now though, the stretch makes you ache for more, the burn finally passed with the aid of the tentacles playing with your clit and nipples and slowly pulling your pleasure back to the surface.

You really need him to be completely inside of you and when you dig your heels into his ass to try to get him to move, he seems hesitant. His tentacles, however, seem more than thrilled at the idea and more than happy to help you in your pursuit. The ones around your thighs tighten and pull you closer, until Jimin is buried to the hilt in the clutch of your pussy. The noise is filthy, the mess from his tentacle spilling out around his cock to smear on your thighs and drip down your ass.

Jimin goes rigid when he’s fully inside you, eyes trained on where you’re joined. He seems transfixed by the sight of your cunt swallowing down every inch he has. Your whine has his head snapping up to look at your face, drinking in the way you’re moaning. The tentacle between your breasts slips a little further up, tip bumping your chin once before it’s shifting to your lips. Your tongue darts out, swiping through the salty fluid. Jimin shudders, hips flexing where they press into you and you let your mouth fall open for his tentacle to slip in.

Your tongue swirls around the tip and it squirms, pushing in further than you expect and causing you to gag. It pulls itself from your mouth with a pop and you frown at it’s loss before shifting your gaze to Jimin, who seems to be glaring at the tentacle like it did something wrong.

“Jimin?” When he looks at you, you give him an amused smile. “It’s okay. It just takes me a minute.”

His head tilts but the tentacle makes its way tentatively back to your mouth, hovering until you open again for it to slip back in. It goes a lot slower this time, keeping its thrusts shallow. You hum encouragingly, tongue pressing and massaging the underside as it moves and the tentacle slides a little deeper. You gag only slightly this time, much more prepared now, and after a few thrusts you grow used to the intrusion and it can slip just a little bit more down your throat.

Jimin watches for a moment before groaning and then he’s pulling his cock out until just the tip remains before slamming back in. You moan around his tentacle, noise muffled as it delves further down your throat. It stays there for a moment and the lack of oxygen has your head start to spin. Your hands twitch where they’re still bound above your head, but before the real need for oxygen comes and you have to try to alert Jimin that you need to breathe, the tentacle is pulling out, switching to shallow thrusts while you get a quick break to breathe. The sudden rush of oxygen has you feeling nearly euphoric and you can only hope that the tentacle does it again. When you whine around it, it pushes back into your throat and the rest of the whine is muffled by it’s girth.

Jimin’s fingers flex against your hips as he watches and feels how much of his tentacle slips into the waiting warmth of your mouth and with a moan he starts fucking into your pussy with a quick pace. Your hands grab at the tentacle binding you, needing something, anything, to ground yourself as Jimin fucks you senseless. You feel wholly overwhelmed at the way his cock fills you, the way the tentacles swirl around your clit, your nipples and breasts, at the way the one in your mouth begins to stiffen up.

The tentacles shift on your breasts, kneading the soft flesh once again before pinching at your nipples. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth and it gives a shudder before flooding your mouth and throat. You choke slightly, jerking your head slightly at the sheer volume being released into your mouth, far more than you can handle. Spit and cum drip from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to swallow and the tentacle pulls itself from your mouth before it's finished, painting the lower half of your face even more in its silvery essence. Jimin’s eyes gleam at the sight, seeming to become even more frantic with his thrusts.

“J-jimin…” You whine, voice rough from use. You’re not entirely sure what you’d finish that statement with.

“You are doing so well.” He coos and the praise has your mind going fuzzy. “You look so pretty like this.”

He reaches up, sliding a hand through the mess on your cheeks before letting his hand drag the mess back down your body, leaving a shiny trail down your throat, in the valley between your breasts and across your stomach. He slams in particularly hard and you cry out, voice echoing across the empty beach and ocean, much too loud but you no longer care.

Jimin glows golden, the light haloing him and your fucked out mind is sluggish to make sense of the sudden color change. Then you remember why you were out here to begin with and you make the connection just as the resounding boom of the firework follows just after the shower of color. The fireworks show must be finally starting because the next second Jimin is bathed in blue, then pink.

But as quick as your attention was taken by the colorful shadows splashed across Jimin’s beautiful face, it’s taken back as he shifts suddenly, hands leaving your hips to push your thighs together as he continues to fuck you. Your calves come to rest on one shoulder and Jimin uses the new position to fuck you even harder.

Something slick drags along the crease where your thighs are pressed together and a second later a tentacle is pushing into the tight space. Your skin tingles where it presses into your skin and with every thrust it makes through the tight press of your thighs, it bumps the tentacles on your clit. Jimin presses a kiss to your leg and you feel the breath leave him as his tentacle speeds up and he hisses.

The sensations are nearly overwhelming, to the point that you almost miss the new slim tentacle kneading the flesh of your ass. It delivers a pinch to the skin that leaves you gasping and you’re much more aware of it as it runs along the seam of your ass. You squirm, or at least attempt to, because between the tentacles restraining you and Jimin’s firm grip on your thighs, you’re left nearly immobile as you get fucked. The tentacle slips a little further up, gathering some slick before it’s dipping back down to prod at the tight ring of muscle of your hole.

You shudder and if you could move, you’d press down onto the tentacle, force it to fill you because you need it as much as you need Jimin’s cock in you. “Fuck, please, don’t tease…”

Jimin’s face is set in concentration and you don’t think he heard you, except a second later the tentacle breaches your ass. You moan, glad that it was a smaller one to start. It thrusts tentatively, growing bolder as your noises raise in pitch and then a second slim tentacle is joining, slipping past the tight ring of muscle to thrust in counterpoint to the first.

Jimin’s thrusts slow, his head tilting back as he pants. He looks like a sculpture, so beautiful that it aches a little. Something that people should look at and marvel over. A moan slips past his lips as the tentacles in your ass speed up a little, taking some time to also shift apart and spread you open even more.

“You… are endless…” Jimin breaths out. It sounds reverent.

The tentacles slip from you and you have no time to mourn the loss before they’re being replaced by one of the thicker tentacles. The stretch hurts a little, but with so many other things happening to your body at the same time, you’re quickly distracted from the ache. The tentacle stills anyway, allowing you time to adjust to its thick girth.

“You are so full of surprises.” He says, head dropping forward once more to let his gaze rake over your shuddering figure.

The tentacle in your ass thrusts in response to Jimin’s words and when you don’t indicate any pain, both pull out and thrust roughly back in. The tentacle between your thighs and in your ass thrust opposite Jimin, keeping you full and stimulated when Jimin pulls out.

“Please… Jimin please, fill me up, you said you would…” You feel slightly delirious with need, every thrust of his tentacle adds extra pressure to your clit and you feel so close to cumming, teetering on the edge.

Jimin gives you no verbal response, only that of him pressing your thighs together a little harder. A few more thrusts of the tentacle between your thighs has you clamping down on Jimin’s cock and the one in your ass as you cum, body shuddering as the tentacles and Jimin continue to thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut, vision nearly whiting out entirely as your orgasm slams into you. The tentacle between your thighs lasts only a handful more thrusts before its stiffening and releasing, splattering your chest, belly, and thighs in the silver cum. It gives a few weak final spurts before slipping back through your thighs as Jimin parts them once more.

His cock twitches as his gaze falls over you messy form, the normally silvery liquid lighting up in splashes of color with every new explosion that happens above you both. He’s never seen a more beautiful sight. One of his hands lands on your thigh as the other bats his tentacles away from your clit, an action that you're grateful for for only a moment because he quickly replaces them with his fingers. You arch and cry out, jerking your hands with enough force that you seem to startle the binding tentacle and it releases you. Your hands wrap around his wrist, tugging futilely at it to get him to let up.

You moan his name desperately, trying to squirm away from the sensation as his tentacles keep you held close as he continues to fuck you through your overstimulation.

“Can you do that for me one more time? You feel so good when you do that, sweet.”

You whimper. You want to say no, that it hurts a little and that you really don’t think you’re capable of another orgasm. But the pout he wears stops you and you find yourself nodding without even thinking about how you’re going to get past the too much feeling currently overwhelming your body.

Jimin gives you another feral grin, eyes roving over your figure as his fingers work quick circles around your clit. For no experience with a human, he’s an incredibly fast learner. He seems to know your body better than your ex had and the two of you had been together for almost 2 years.

The tentacles on your breasts move to collect some of the slick covering you, smearing it around your nipples as the pinch and play with them, the slick adding a new layer of feeling to the actions.

“Come on, sweet.” Jimin purrs as his cock seems to swell ever more and the tentacle in your ass starts to stiffen.

Another rough thrust and a few twists of his fingers and you’re cumming again with a cry of his name. Your pussy and ass convulses around him and Jimin lets out a series of clicks and chirps as he finally cums, flooding your pussy and ass with more silvery slick. There seems to be a never ending stream from his cock and after a few moments, pressure on your lower stomach makes you look down, groaning at the sight of your slightly distended belly.

Jimin makes a contented noise, rubbing gently over the swell. “You would look so beautiful swollen with my children.”

His cock gives another twitch and a feeble last spurt of cum and Jimin and his tentacles seem to deflate. His chin presses to his chest as he takes in slow, deep breaths. The tentacles all slowly slip from your body and you mourn the slight warmth you lose. Another few moments pass and then Jimin is gingerly pulling his cock from your abuse pussy and gazing over your whole body with almost reverence.

You feel too exhausted to do much more, but you can feel his cum dripping from you, forming a puddle beneath your ass. At least you're next to the ocean for easy clean up. If you had the energy to do that. Maybe in 5 minutes… Or an hour. You can’t even feel your legs right now. You’re pretty sure you’d just drown.

Jimin stretches out beside you, arm coming to wrap around your middle, seemingly unbothered by the fact that it lands in a mess. You blearily realize that his tentacles seem much smaller now too. His head tilts and you realize that he’s watching the fireworks again. Like he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life and leave you ruined for anyone who comes after him.

You watch in silence for a while, endeared by Jimin’s ohs and ahs as he discovers new types of fireworks, the different shapes and effects that can happen.

“Jimin.” You call softly. His nose brushes your shoulder in response. “Will… Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

Jimin pushes himself up enough so that he can look down at you, frown marring his pretty face. “What is it?”

You fidget, suddenly hating that you’re naked and still covered in him. You glance over at the water.

“Do you wish to go in, sweet?”

It’s an easy out and you don’t feel strong enough to ask the real question yet, so you give him a simple nod. He grins, scooping you up and gracefully sliding you both into the water, arm wrapped tight around your middle to keep you afloat.

Colors flash around you as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, every color reflected there as well. Before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. He lets out a surprised noise and then giggles when you pull away.

“Do you wish to go again?”

Embarrassment fills you and you shake your head. “No. Um…” You take a deep breath. You can do this. “Will I see you again?”

Jimin’s face is unreadable for a painful stretch of time, though you’re sure it’s only a few seconds before he’s grinning. “I find myself quite taken by humans. I could certainly use a guide.”

You grin back, pecking him again. “First lesson, when humans like someone and want to spend time with them and go on dates, they give them kisses.”

He hums, giving you a kiss of his own, just a little deeper than yours. “I think I quite like kisses.” Then he grins and it’s full of mischief. “I think fireworks are my favorite though.”

You snort, prodding him with a finger. “You sure it’s the fireworks you like?”

He makes a thoughtful noise before nodding. “They make you luminous, sweet.”

#bangtanarmynet #btsguild #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jamaisjoons summer collab #tsb event 2020 #tsb collab 2020 #monster au #tentacle au

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erefics · 3 years ago

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afterglow by erefics

synopsis: reader has had a rough day of first classes, and comes home in tears to a supportive eren. now, his only purpose is to make you feel better in any way he can.

content warnings: female bodied reader, corruption, daddy kink, daddy!eren, major praise kink, breeding, use of the pet name puppy but no pet kink

word count: 1.7k

*all characters are aged up and in college*!

your eyes had been swollen and puffy as your feet shuffled across the hallway back to your shared apartment with boyfriend eren. they dragged across the tile, making it evident you’d been tiresome and overpowered from the harsh and cruel school day.

not only were your classes harder than you expected, but the other students were relentlessly mean all day to you. they hadn’t given you a break the entirety of the day, teasing you and making you run to the bathroom stall in order to dry the tears falling down your perfect pink cheeks.

thankfully, eren had always been there for you when you came home from school. he got out of his last period before you, which was a perfect way to be greeted in the living room by him after dealing with the harsh reality of college.

“what’s wrong, doll?” he immediately noticed the poor little grimace on your face, which you tried so desperately to hide. it wasn’t because you didn’t want to tell him what happened per say, it was just the fact that you struggled opening up about your feelings. you were so sensitive, so easily broken. he knew that. and he knew when something was most definitely wrong with his puppy.

“what—‘m okay, eren,” you lied bashfully, covering your reddened cheeks with your hand, but your palm was too small to conceal the tears.

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly. it didn’t take him long to catch on, and he moved your hand off of your face by force, pinning it down to your side.

“what did i tell you about hiding your feelings from me, princess?” his voice deepened.

you looked up at him rather slowly, it took you a moment to make full eye contact because you’d been stalling from that for so long now. he was quite intimidating when looking at you so directly.

“i…’m not hiding anything,” you continued to lie, surprising even yourself by the amount of perseverance you were showing.

his grip on your wrist only grew tighter, which started to startle you a bit.

“speak up for daddy, dollface. i’m not gonna bite you for talking about your feelings,” eren raised his bushy eyebrows, even puckering his lips into a very tempting pout. that was all you needed to spill out your feelings to him.

“well, my day just wasn’t the best…’started with chemistry, got asked to leave because i hadn’t been prepared, apparently you have to ‘bring your own goggles’. shouldnt that be included in the tuition? and my mathematics professor is a total dick. but don’t get me started on the girls who’d been teasing me all day…calling’ me names and stuff, talking behind my back and already starting rumors. then on the way home from the campus i tripped on an empty soda can and was pretty much out of breath and started crying and—“

“y/n!” eren interrupted your ramble, soothing your pulsing heartbeat with a hand on your chest. his fingers stroked the side of your jaw softly, wiping the excess tears that hadn’t yet dried, or fallen to the floor. “‘s okay, i’m here now,” he brought you into an embrace, finally, ridding you of all sadness. “what kind of assholes would say anything like that about my precious puppy?” he removed his hands from your back, keeping the same eye contact from before.

“dunno. ‘don’t even wanna go back tomorrow,” you sighed, plopping down onto the sofa next to eren, crossing your arms as if throwing a hissy fit.

“well you’re here for now, angel. you’re safe. and in my comfort. i’m here to always make you feel the best you possibly can,” eren followed you, sitting on the sofa and grabbing you by the hips and placing you on his lap, your back facing his stomach. his hand traced lightly down the side of your neck, humming to himself ever so quietly. you could barely even hear, but it was faint enough. “daddy won’t let anybody make you feel like that again,” he hummed, his hand rimming the silhouette of your shoulder, moving its way down your arm softly, giving yourself chills.

you giggled a bit at the soft ticklish feeling of his hand trailing down your clean and untainted skin.

“shhh, puppy. let me make you forget that bad day, yeah?”

you jolted in his lap a bit as his hand made its way across your lap, gripping the fat of your thigh and squeezing it until your aching core felt the effects of it. “y–yes, daddy,” you nodded, starting to let yourself enjoy his strokes of love, eyes even closing through instinct. you simply let go while he took over the controls of your body.

“such a pretty body. do you know that, y/n? that you have such a delicate, fucking untouchable body. it’s too bad i’m gonna touch it, then. gonna touch it real good.” eren nodded to himself, his hand gripping your cunt through your skirt, almost as if he was taking a handful of you. the fact you’d been fully clothed still yet you felt so fucking wonderful as the pressure exceeded against your clit–was magical.

“yes, yes! real good, daddy,” you blurted out, back arching against his lap.

“mhm, i know, i know, shhh.” his fingers uncovered your panties by pushing the pleated skirt above his hand, towards your torso. the fabric was so thin and mesh, you could see everything through the undies. eren had taken one swipe of his finger down your slit, and that was enough to know how wet you’d been. “fuck, fuck. you’re gushing, pup. how fucking pretty is that?” he mumbled, holding up his finger with your juices coated on it, dripping down the digit.

“��already so wet, ‘m sorry. you know ‘m sensitive, daddy. can’t handle the things you say,” you beg for his sympathy.

“course you can sweetheart. you can, and you will handle me,” eren kissed the gap between your neck and shoulder, simultaneously pushing your panties aside to begin rubbing through your slick cunt. “oh, oh yeah…i love how that feels, princess.”

his fingers moved like light work against your clit, using muscle memory from your previous encounters together because he’d already known the things you liked. soft and slow we’re the two key words. “being so good for me. letting daddy touch you how he pleases, hm? that’s my good girl. such a pretty cunt. feels so good i bet. you have to tell me. tell me how it feels, okay?”

“ ‘feels good!! eren, eren, please. can you go a little faster?” you’d asked him, struggling through your words. eren didn’t even respond before picking up the speed of his fingers on your clit. he’d been waiting for the signal to go faster forever. he’d ached for ages to move from slow to fast and soft to rough. but he only wanted to do the things you were comfortable with. “oh!! fuck, ‘s feeling good eren!”

“just like this? i knew you’d like that, puppy,” he smirked into your shoulder as you squirmed around in his lap, moving your hips with your own mighty power to add extra pressure to your clit, along with his fingers already rocketing inside you.

“‘m so close!!” you cried.

“i thought so, hm. of course i wanna let you cum. but i think it’d be more enjoyable if you did so with this pretty little cunt wrapped around my cock?”

“yes, yes!! yes, ‘m so desperate to feel myself on your cock, daddy. ‘s too much, want more though”

he chuckled, using his other hand to unbuckled himself underneath you, proving to be rather good at doing two things at once. touching you and unbuckling.

within seconds, he aligned himself with your leaking cunt, putting pressure with his tip on your clit first, which matter of fact had been throbbing and pulsating, waiting to be overstimulated to the point of climax.

“eren!! oh!!” you cried out, body bending over forward like jello as his tip just satisfied you a bit too much as it pressed against your cunt. “put it in please!! put it in!”

“so impatient, hm. remember i’m doing this because you had a bad day.” he spoke, and mid sentence, he pushed his length slowly inside your walls. “and this is special treatment,” he finished, pushing himself in all the way to the hilt.

eren kept himself aligned while inside of you, somewhat still aside from your occasional squirming giving stimulation to his length.

he placed soft kisses against the back of your neck, lifting hair out of the way first, letting you adjust to his size for a few moments before finally starting to add movement, going steady enough to just give you relief to breathe out.

“daddy!!” you leaned back against him, hands reaching for anything to grab as you started moving vertically against his cock, that pretty, tiny body rocking up and down to feel good.

“daddy loves you,” he murmured softly into her ear as he added more frequent thrusts into her hole, moving her entire body up a few inches off the sofa which proved how intense his power was. “you know daddy loves you, right, pup?”

“mhm, yes! d-daddy loves me,” you repeated after him.

it only took a few moments more before you’d been too stimulated and you released yourself while he’d been inside you. the noises you made were so pretty and loud once you finished, it had signaled eren to cum with you. there was no warning or hesitation, he simply emptied himself inside your little pretty cunt, his load leaking out of you and onto both of your thighs, causing a rather evident mess.

“feel okay, my dear?” he spoke softly, squeezing your body tight against his chest. you nodded, rocking whatever energy you had left against his cock even after finishing, proving you still had some left in you.

“now i’m gonna need you to tell me every name of every student that hurt your feelings today.”

#eren jaeger #eren smut #eren jaeger x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren x reader #attack on titan eren #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren jeager headcanons #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut

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lepusrufus · 3 years ago

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Double edged scalpel ch.9

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6 ch.7 ch.8

Summary: Nicole needs a painkiller.

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"Mother, please!"

God that was loud. Or far. It was a confusing mix of both. The sound reached her ears muffled, but even that was enough to make the fuzz in her brain even worse.

It took an enormous amount of effort to finally figure out who that voice belonged to, the desperate tone so uncharacteristic. Cassandra of course.

Her eyelids felt too heavy to open, so Nicole just tried to shift towards the voice. That plan turned out to be a huge mistake as with the smallest movement, her body seemed to short circuit. Her side felt like it was on fire, sending waves of pain that made her let out a choked pained moan.

Then, she realized, there were other voices surrounding her. She couldn't make out whether or not it was addressed to her let alone what was being said.

She did try though.

Consciousness was starting to slowly make its way into her mind. With great strain she even managed to open her eyes, harsh light making her groan.

"Oh she's awake."

"Hey, try not to move."

Nicole frowned, trying to focus on the two blurry figures by her side. When her brain finally managed to decipher familiar blonde and ginger hair she let out a sigh.

Bela was in a chair by her side, holding her in place by a shoulder while Daniela was lower down, pressing a white cloth to her abdomen.

Her bloody abdomen.

Panic started to course through her veins when she noticed the crimson mess on her skin and the sheets underneath her. What had happened? Where was she and where was Cassandra?

Sensing her intention to stir again, Bela pushed down on her shoulders to keep her still.

"I said don't move."

"Yeahh, I feel like blood loss may be an issue for you. Don't worry though, Mother will be here soon… I think," Daniela said, hands still keeping the cloth pressed to her wound. It made her wince.

On any normal day, that phrase would've probably shot a wave of terror through her. But in that moment the pain and fog in her mind didn't leave room for much more than confusion. "Mothe-... what?"

Daniela shrugged. "Sorry we uh- don't exactly have the tools to pull out bullets. Mother usually takes care of that."

"Now pray dear Cassie can convince her that your life is worth the trouble."

Nicole really didn't know what was worse. Bleeding out or having Lady Dimitrescu prod around at her wound. She tried not to shudder at the thought. Not that she really had time to finish that train of thought as the door opened and none other than the lady of the castle entered.

The only thing that kept her from whimpering was the sight of Cassandra entering right after, hurried steps taking her to Nicole. She gingerly sat on the bed and pushed a couple auburn strands of hair out of her face. When she spoke, her voice was dripping with worry that she tried to morph into something soft.

“It’s okay, Mother will take care of the bullet and then we can patch it up and you’ll be alright.”

Was she trying to convince her or herself? It mattered little, as the words did a good enough job at keeping Nicole’s focus on something not horrible.

She nodded weakly, trying to keep her eyes on Cassandra and not on Lady Dimitrescu wiping her hands somewhere near the bed. She gulped when she felt the bed dip and with her peripheral she could see claws elongating. No more than a few inches but it was enough to make Nicole consider the option of digging around for the bullet herself.

“Here, wouldn’t want you to chip a tooth.” Bela caught her off guard when she pressed a piece of cloth to her lips.

Nicole bit down and let out a muffled yelp when Daniela moved away to make space for her mother, who only sighed at the bloody mess. The talons were brought right above the wound.

“Keep her still darlings.”

All the warning Nicole got was hands clamping around her arms and legs, before razor sharp talons plunged into raw flesh.

She didn’t even realize that she was screaming, until the damp fabric in her mouth almost made her gag. Eyesight also proved itself a traitorous thing, as it was rapidly turning into fuzzy black splotches so Nicole squeezed her eyes shut.

The sensation of the Lady’s talons digging around inside the muscle was indescribably gut wrenching. Every single movement, no matter how small, sent jolts of pain through her body, drawing out pathetic sobs. When claws finally grabbed the bullet, the metal scraping almost made Nicole throw up, but she made the effort to swallow down the bile, as being shot was already bad enough without choking on her own vomit.

The bullet was ripped out unceremoniously and that’s when her body finally decided that it had had enough and shut down. Her muscles went limp and consciousness finally slipped away from her one again.

Lady Dimitrescu simply stood up and wiped her now bloody hand with a tissue. Her golden gaze softened once it landed on her middle daughter, her shaky hands caressing a damp cheek and mumbling words of encouragement to an unconscious Nicole. She gingerly put a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder.

“We can talk more once she wakes up.”

“Thank you Mother.” Cassandra’s voice was uncharacteristically small and she refused to meet her eyes. Lady Dimitrescu simply let her be, shifting her focus to the youngest daughter instead.

“Daniela dear, can you wrap it up?”

“Of course!” She sprung up, grabbing a few medical tools and bandages and starting to close up the wound.

---

The first thing Nicole was aware of was the utterly uncomfortable dampness of her skin. She felt as if she had run a marathon and then immediately jumped into bed, sheets sticking to her skin. The second sensation that came barreling in together with consciousness was the pain radiating from her abdomen. Of course.

She winced as she tried unsuccessfully to shift just a little in a more comfortable spot. Alright, laying in her own sweat. Wonderful. Next best thing?

Opening her eyes. Right, right.

She tentatively cracked one eye open, getting some semblance of relief from the dim light inside the room. It was probably close to sundown and her surroundings were illuminated by beautiful orange hues.

Nicole looked around the room. It wasn’t one that she was familiar with so she assumed it was one of the many guest bedrooms in the castle. Trying to piece together her hazy memories, she deduced that Cassandra probably just brought her to the closest room that had a surface to lay on.

Next thing her eyes landed on was the bandage around her waist. She gingerly traced a finger over the wound and winced when they brushed over stitches. She really ought to teach Daniela proper stitching. Not that I’m complaining.

The door swung open startling Nicole, who put all her effort into not flinching. Cassandra came in with hasty steps, reading the labels of one of the boxes she had in her hands. Golden eyes snapped to the bed when she heard Nicole stirring.

“Nicole you're awake- How do you feel?”

The redhead just took a deep breath, that was apparently too big of an offense to her wound. “Like shit.”

Cassandra just chucked and came to sit by her side. "I sent one of the maids to buy some painkillers. Not sure which one's better though." She once again brought one of the boxes to her face with a huff.

"Pass me the papers inside."

Cassandra did so, taking out the folded papers from each box and handing it over to Nicole. After scanning over the text, she picked one that she assumed would do its thing the quickest. The pain was starting to make her seriously consider knocking herself out for some sweet sweet unconsciousness.

After swallowing the pill with nothing but saliva and sheer exhaustion, she let her hand fall on the bed. There, Cassandra grabbed it, fingers playing with hers in a manner that Nicole has learned was the brunette's way of fidgeting when nervous. What on earth could she be nervous about?

"Hey, I'm okay. Just need some rest and wait for these bad boys to kick in." She started to rub small circles on top of the wrist with her thumb.

"My moms want to talk with you," Cassandra blurted.

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #bela dimitrescu #daniela dinitrescu #fanfic #double edged scalpel #lady dimitrescu

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

On My Hands

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Prompts: 24. Let me go, 28. They don’t need to know, 50. I didn’t know where else to go. Prompts are from This List

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Alright when I opened the word doc to write a fic inspired by This Post I was expecting to write something steamy and like??? Fun??? But I ended up with all this angst instead because this story took on a life of its own. Either way, enjoy some Nestor smut. Love y’all!

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There was a quiet knocking on your door. You glanced down at the time on your phone and your brows furrowed. Nothing good could come of someone showing up on your doorstep so late at night. With a deep sigh you tossed the blanket off of you and to the other end of the couch as you made your way towards the front door. Peaking out from the curtain, you saw Nestor standing on your front step. You sighed—you should’ve known.

You turned the lock and pulled the door open slightly, just enough for you to look out at him. Your lips turned down into a slight frown as you took in the state of him. That was all it took for you to know why he made his way to you.

“It’s late, Nestor,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he sounded exhausted, and it made you want to invite him in so you could take care of him.

But you knew better. Bracing yourself against the doorframe, “What’re you doing here?” you wanted to add that he looked like he belonged in a hospital instead of on your front step, but you refrained.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You pressed your lips together for a moment, “I don’t think that you’re allowed to be here anymore, Nes.”

“They don’t have to know,” his tone was pleading.

You shook your head slightly, “Like they won’t find out.”

He could see it in your eyes that you were getting ready to shut the door on him. He reached forward and rested his palm against it, providing just enough resistance to get you to look at him, “Please.”

You knew you were kidding yourself thinking that you would actually turn him away. Even if he had shown up on your doorstep completely fine and in good spirits, you would’ve let him in. But something about him showing up tired, defeated, and bloody made all of your resistance fade away instantly. You shouldn’t have been so ready to invite that kind of trouble back into your house, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You opened the door all the way, waving for him to come in. He walked past you and you shut and locked the door behind him before turning to get a better look at him in the light of your home. His face and neck were streaked with blood, knuckles busted open from whatever fight he must’ve gotten into before he came to you. It was apparent in his eyes that he was there to forget about the world outside of you, and you were content to give him that even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“Should I even ask?” you sighed as you thumbed away a small smear of blood from underneath his eye.

He shook his head as he ran his hands up your sides, sliding them underneath the thin fabric of the oversized shirt that was passing for your pajamas. His hands felt rough against your skin and your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked up the sensation of it. You never knew when it was going to be the last time, when he was going to stop coming back for more.

You opened your eyes to see Nestor staring intently at you. Despite the tiredness and defeat that you were sure he was feeling, there was something else present in his features as well. It was the same thing that led him back to you over and over again.

“What am I gonna do with you, Nestor?” your voice was soft, but the way you likely raked your nails along the back of his neck let him know the question wasn’t completely innocent.

He didn’t answer your question as he pulled you close and kissed you. His lips attached themselves to yours and you let it happen, melting against him like you had countless times before. His hands slid all over your body as though he didn’t already have ever curve memorized like the back of his hand. He didn’t take his lips off of yours as he walked you backwards towards your couch, slipping off his shoes as he went.

Muscle memory took over as you pushed his holsters down off his shoulders, hands immediately making their way to the buttons of his shirt. He moaned quietly as he slid his hands along the curve of your ass, squeezing it tight as he pulled you closer to him. You nipped lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled the shirt down off his shoulders and slid it off his arms, letting it fall to the floor. Your fingers traced over his chest, feeling every scratch, scab, and smear of dried blood that decorated his torso along with the ink that had been there for years and would remain long after the blood was washed away.

He pulled the shirt off over your head, tossing it aside before his hands started roaming all over the freshly exposed skin he now had access to. You moaned as his hands continued to graze over your skin, hardly able to concentrate on the task of undoing his belt. Once he felt you undo the buckle, he finished undoing his pants and pushing them to the floor, stepping out of them as you slid your tongue along his bottom lip.

You felt the backs of your legs press flush against the base of your couch and as much as you wanted to give in and let him push you back onto it, you didn’t. You placed one hand on each of his shoulders and maneuvered so he was the one who was falling back onto the couch. It caught him off-guard, and you saw the shift in his breathing as you situated yourself on top of him, straddling him.

You pressed your lips back to his and he wrapped his arms tightly around your middle. You slowly began to grind your hips against him and a small moan escaped him as he moved his lips against yours. One of his hands snaked up and came to rest on the back of your neck, fingertips pressing hard into your skin as you moved against him.

Pulling his lips off of yours, he struggled to catch his breath. The hand on the back of your neck came to rest on your cheek and you placed your hand over it. The blood on his knuckles felt tacky against your fingertips, not having completely dried. You could feel it on the pads of your fingers as you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaving a fresh set of smudged red prints on his skin as you leveraged your weight against him.

You felt him lifting his hips up off the couch cushion and you took that moment to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. You lifted your hips off of him when you felt him sliding his boxer-briefs down his legs, your hands immediately dropping to graze along his thighs. The light sensation of your nails against him caused him to shudder and moan, making you smile as you kept your lips locked to his. He gripped tightly onto your hips like you were the only thing that was keeping him grounded.

You carefully wrapped your hand around him and he instantly dropped his head back, letting out a moan. You bit down on your bottom lip as you watched him tremble underneath your touch, listened to the quiet curses that fell from his lips as you slid your hand up and down his length.

He managed to tap back into reality long enough to slide his hands down your hips just enough so that he could tangle his fingers in the sparse fabric of your underwear. It took hardly any effort at all for him to rip them clean off of you, eliciting a yelp from you despite the fact that you knew it was coming.

He leaned in and kissed along your neck, feeling your body go a little lax as he did so. He lifted your hips and positioned himself so that he could slowly slide into you, wanting to feel the way your nails set into his shoulder blades and hear the way your breath shook as he did. You pressed the side of your head against his as you closed your eyes and basked in the way that he felt inside of you.

Your hands rested on either side of his neck, chests pressed flush against each other’s as you began to move against him. His teeth grazed against the sensitive skin where your neck met your shoulder and you whimpered quietly. You pulled back slightly so you could look in his eyes, trailing your fingers down his cheeks despite the fact that you were collecting his blood in the divots of your fingerprints.

He pulled you close so he could kiss you again, his fingers gripping tighter onto your hips and giving him better control of how you moved. He sucked lightly on your bottom lip, letting it go with a slight pop as he lifted you and brought you back down onto him again.

“Fuck, Nestor,” your palms rested flat against his chest as he repeated the motion.

It didn’t take very long for you to come undone—it never did when it was with him. His eyes shut tight and his teeth sank into the soft skin of your shoulder as he felt you contracting around him. One hand cradled the back of his head while the other dug into his shoulder, desperately trying to keep you tethered to him in any way possible.

He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he finished inside you. he clung tightly to you for a minute, waiting for his brain to slow down. When his racing mind finally began to slow, he peeled himself off of you, leaning back against the back of the couch.

His eyes traveled all over you, taking in every detail. He was admiring you, the same way he always did, but there was something more to it this time. You glanced down at yourself and instantly noticed the rusty red patches on your chest, the sweat and close contact having made his stains yours as well. He reached forward, wiping at your neck and you assumed that he was rubbing off the slight traces of blood he’d left behind there, too.

You carefully lifted yourself off of him before leaning and grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. You used it to wipe at your own neck and chest before using it to wipe away the violence of the day that was left on him as well. You tenderly cleaned off his face the best that you could, trying not to focus on the way that he was looking at you. You wiped off the knuckles on each of his hands, letting out a small sigh as you traced the pad of your thumb over them once they were clean. These days you only ever saw him when he was beaten and bloody.

Your hands softly came to rest on either side of his neck, and you tried to ignore the tightness building in your chest, “You gotta stop, Nes.”

His hands ran up and down your sides as he tried to look anywhere but into your eyes, “It’s work, you know how it—”

“No,” you cut him off but your voice was still gentle. You knew that he was going to try and turn this conversation into something that it wasn’t and you couldn’t let that happen, “This,” you motioned back and forth between the two of you, “You gotta stop doing this—showing up here in the middle of the night, all bloody and sad and looking for something to get lost in.”

“But I know you’ll let me in.”

“And that’s fucked up,” you wanted to sound angry but really you were just tired, “I can’t say no to you, Nestor. I’ll always open the door for you, let you in, clean you up, make you forget about whatever you had to do for a little while. I’ll always let your blood be on my hands. And I hate that,” you rested your forehead against his with a defeated sigh.

“You’re the only person that takes me in,” you could feel his breath bristle against your skin as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“But I can’t keep doing it. I can’t keep doing this,” you hated saying it but you knew that you had to—this all should’ve been over a long time ago.

“Please—”

“You need to let me go,” your voice was nothing but a shaky whisper as you forced the words out.

Neither of you said anything more for a few minutes, just sitting there in silence. You could feel it in his body language that he understood what this all meant, and he was trying to soak up whatever time he had left with you. All the minutes he had with you were stolen, what was a few more before he left? You lightly trailed your fingers along the patterns of his braids as he slid his hands up and down your back.

Finally, he shifted so that he could stand up and start getting dressed again. While he was doing that you went and grabbed a clean shirt to wear to bed, opting to throw the one you’d had on in the trash, not wanting to hold onto the memories if you could help it.

You followed him to the door, leaning against it as he stood on your front steps. You’d never seen Nestor look so small. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek and pressing a kiss to your forehead. There were a million things that he wanted to say, you could see it in his eyes, but he couldn’t make himself say them. He placed one last tender kiss to your lips before turning and heading back towards his car. He looked back at you once, with a small, sad smile on his face before getting back into his car and driving off. You waited until the taillights were out of sigh before finally forcing yourself to go back inside.

You shut off all the lights as you made your way through the house. Making a stop in your bathroom, you turned the light on and looked in the mirror, making sure that there were no stains left that you could see. You were rewarded with a clean slate, the only things left behind were the dark marks left by Nestor’s lips and teeth. You gingerly traced your fingers over them before turning the hot water on in the sink. Putting soap on your hands, you began to slowly and methodically scrub them underneath the hot water, watching as the last of the blood diluted in the soapy water and swirled down the drain. You let out a deep sigh when the water ran clear once more, having washed away what little you had left to show for all that you’d gone through with Nestor.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #drabblesmc #fanficg

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hartigays · 3 years ago

Note

rafe seeing barry’s scars for the first time🥺

warning: mature themes ahead kiddos! (descriptions of violence, mild threats of violence, sexual themes, ur usual rafebarry bullshit)

barry always keeps his shirt on during sex.

rafe really doesn’t get it - he can feel the hard lines of barry’s body through his clothes every time they touch. he knows that what’s underneath is something… something like a feast just waiting to be devoured.

he doesn’t understand why it’s being hid beneath an endless supply of fabric, because rafe is pretty sure whatever barry has going on under there is going to make rafe’s mouth water either way.

tonight, when barry rolls off of him with a grunt, rafe eyes the way barry’s sweat-soaked shirt clings to the toned muscles of his chest, to the soft yet sculpted lines of his stomach. rafe is pretty sure he can see the vague outline of barry’s happy trail, and his fingers itch to just hike the fabric up to barry’s neck so he can see and touch and taste.

rafe doesn’t like things being kept from him. it bothers him.

“you’re really good at that,” rafe starts, slowly. through the darkness of the room, he sees barry glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “you know what would make it better? if you’d take this goddamn thing off.”

rafe plucks at the fabric of barry’s shirt, wrinkling his nose, and barry swats his hand away immediately, almost as if on instinct.

“quit that shit, will you?”

“i just started,” rafe points out, moving his hand back to trace his fingers across the hem of barry’s shirt. “i don’t get why- ”

“don’t bother askin’, country club. you ain’t gonna get what you want,” barry cuts rafe off, then slides out of bed and leaves the room.

rafe can hear the bathroom door open and shut a moment later.

okay, so maybe his approach to getting barry’s shirt off was a little… well, rafe thought it was okay enough. but apparently barry disagrees.

the shirt seems to be staying on. for now.

when barry returns from the bathroom, his face is freshly washed and he has a different shirt on. it’s rattier, but still smells like barry. rafe catches the scent of it as barry crawls back into bed, resisting the urge to just reach out a take what he wants.

which is barry’s shirt, off. rafe would much rather drape the fabric over himself, smother himself in barry, and have the freedom to explore all the exposed skin that has been kept from him.

“you’re keeping things from me,” rafe says into the quiet of the room, his voice careful - steady and controlled. “i don’t like things being kept from me, barry. i don’t like lies.”

rafe can practically feel barry roll his eyes. “the fuck am i lyin’ to you about, baby boy? you ain’t seen my tits so now i’m a liar?”

“i haven’t seen your anything because you’re hiding it from me. and you won’t tell me why,” rafe replies, finally reaching out a hand and taking a fistful of barry’s shirt.

he doesn’t do anything with it besides hold it, but it’s obvious what he wants to do. “i just want to see. just once, at least.”

rafe is pretty sure just once will never in a million years be enough for him, but he doesn’t say that part out loud. it’s like barry hears it anyway, with the way he’s eyeballing him right now, gaze flickering between the fistful of his shirt in rafe’s hand and rafe’s eyes.

“‘m pretty sure you don’t wanna see any of this shit, country club. it ain’t pretty.”

there’s definitely insecurity laced through barry’s words, and rafe wants to shake it right out of him. all of it.

“why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” rafe huffs, wanting to smack barry for being so goddamn stubborn.

it takes another moment, but barry finally concedes. it surprises rafe - he hadn’t thought it’d be so easy to get barry to cave.

but that seems to happen more and more these days, and barry always has this look in his eye when it happens. something that looks a lot like trust. it always sends these delighted little shivers racing down rafe’s spine.

barry lays down on his back, reclining slowly, tucking his hands behind his head. he lets rafe scoot his shirt up, inch by inch, exposing marks and scars as far as the eye can see.

they’re clearly the source of barry’s insecurity, based on the way barry is avoiding rafe’s eyes now, and rafe wants to map out each and every one with his fingers, etching them into his memory like a brand.

rafe stretches out on his side, propping himself up on his elbow, smoothing his hand over the happy trail he knew barry was hiding. when he scratches his nails through the wiry hair, barry shivers.

he feels like he’s conquering undiscovered territory. rafe wonders, fleetingly, if there’s ever been anyone else. any other person who’s been permitted to see the full masterpiece that is barry the fucking coke dealer.

a flare of possessiveness sparks in rafe’s belly, and his physical response is to squeeze one of barry’s pecs in his hands, happily noting the way barry’s eyes flutter shut and his abdominal muscles jump.

“all of it,” rafe says suddenly, tracing an uneven scar that nearly runs the entire length of barry’s sternum. “show me all of it.”

barry’s eyes lock with rafe’s, and he’s never looked more uncertain. rafe just gives barry a challenging look, arching his brows.

finally, barry sits up with a sigh, his back to rafe, and rafe scoots his own body up the bed to prop himself against the pillows. barry tugs his shirt fully over his head, and rafe finally gets what he wants.

barry’s back holds the worst of it, flesh marred and littered with jagged scars, all varying in size.

“‘s always when your damn back is turned,” barry comments, turning his head to look back at rafe, noticing the way rafe is staring at him. “that’s when they get you.”

“they?” rafe asks, his eyes still fixed on barry’s back, the tips of his fingers reaching out and ghosting over a long, rope-like scar twisting its way down barry’s left flank.

“the enemy.”

rafe swallows as he thinks about it, about the violence and the pain and the blood and guts and gore that war brings, a curl of desire settling in the marrow of his bones.

for a moment, he wishes he could’ve traded places with barry during that point in his life. maybe so he could take away some of this insecurity that’s all tangled up inside of barry and make it his own - or maybe just so he could feel the thrill of a fresh kill, all the while adding scars of his own to his collection. little reminders - the forever kind.

most people wouldn’t feel jealous of barry’s experiences. but, rafe cameron isn’t most people.

“tell me about them,” rafe demands, though his voice is gentle. almost soothing, in a way. “what’s this one from?”

rafe scoots closer, tracing a short, thick scar that’s evenly lined up with barry’s shoulder blade.

“ka-bar,” barry says without even turning to look, able to tell just from rafe’s touch alone which scar he’s talking about. “little bastard got me durin’ a raid. never heard him coming til’ he was right fuckin’ behind me.”

rafe’s thumb smooths over the mark, his eyes fixed on it, entranced. he imagines the knife digging into muscle, blood pooling and spilling down barry’s back. his stomach twists, and he can’t decide if it’s a good twist, or bad.

maybe some sort of fucked up combination of both.

“and this one?” rafe asks, running his hand over the long scar winding its way down barry’s flank.

“bootcamp,” barry tells him, his voice a little breathless. “got tangled up in one of them damn climbing walls, y’know, with the ropes ‘n shit? rope burn’s a bitch.”

“that’s an understatement,” rafe mutters, tracing the scar with mild fascination. “rope burn did all this?”

barry shrugs, and rafe can feel the motion of his muscles shifting and resettling beneath his palm. “maybe dug in enough to cut. can’t remember too much about it, some dickhead kicked my damn head so hard i blacked out.”

you don’t have murderous tendencies, you don’t have murderous tendencies, rafe thinks to himself, breathing steadily through his nose to suppress the urge to ask barry what the stupid fuck’s name was so he can look him up, go to his house, and slit his throat in his sleep.

instead, rafe traces his fingers along a round, almost neat scar that sits close to barry’s spine.

“what about this little guy?”

barry snorts. “that little guy? gsw, baby boy. any closer to my spine and i’d be in a chair right ‘bout now. think you’da still fucked me if i came back on wheels, country club?”

rafe knows he would have. he’ll fall together with barry no matter what. they’re bound to it, rafe has decided. something as simple as a wheelchair wouldn’t be enough to block fate. or destiny.

whatever, it doesn’t matter. rafe just sits up, shuffling around until he’s straddling barry’s lap, facing him head-on. he pushes barry’s shoulders until he flops back against the pillows, looking up at rafe almost in earnest. like his whole world hinges on rafe’s response to his question.

instead of giving him one, rafe shifts down barry’s body, angling himself so he’s hovering over barry’s stomach. he kisses his way up barry’s happy trail, cataloguing every soft sigh and whimper so he can replay them all later, like a little symphony in his mind.

“and here? what happened?” rafe asks quietly, his lips ghosting over a jagged, star-shaped scar on barry’s hipbone.

“soviet slug, no rifling. bye-bye bikinis,” barry says in a strange voice, cracking a small smile that rafe can just barely see through the darkness of the room when he looks up.

rafe just stares. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“you- rafe, c’mon, don’t tell me you never seen the winter soldier,” barry groans, and rafe just blinks at him, unimpressed. “shit, you really ain’t seen a damn thing except fight club, huh?”

leave it to barry to ruin the fucking moment. rafe pulls his lips away from the scar, finding a smooth patch of skin nearby to sink his teeth into instead.

barry’s whole body jerks in surprise, but then his fingers tangle in rafe’s hair, holding him in place a little desperately.

rafe releases the skin from between his teeth, sucking at it until it’s nothing but a pretty pattern of teeth marks and bruised skin.

he has the sudden urge to bruise every inch of unmarked skin, his own personal way of claiming his prize. rafe slithers up barry’s body like a snake, coming to a stop at his chest so he can suck pretty little marks anywhere he sees fit. which is everywhere, including a mottled scar that rests just below one of barry’s pecs.

that one has barry keening in surprise, but he doesn’t shove rafe away. instead, he grabs rafe’s chin and lifts his head, forcing their eyes to meet. barry’s pupils are blown wide, and he’s looking at rafe with something that’s akin to fascination.

“you really ain’t got a problem with- with this shit?” barry asks, his voice tight with emotion.

rafe wants to mock him, just for a second, but he won’t risk losing this masterpiece. not now, not after he’s finally laid his claim. knowing barry is his to keep, well. it’s enough to deter him, and fill him with something that feels a lot like want.

“it’s- you’re perfect,” rafe says, his voice just shy of breathless. “like someone threw paint on the mona lisa and finally fucking made it better.”

barry, for a long moment, just stares at rafe, his chest rising and falling rapidly. then he tightens his grip on rafe’s jaw and pulls, causing rafe to lose his balance and topple down on top of barry, their faces nearly colliding.

and then they’re kissing, which is nothing new but it feels new. because so much of barry is new to rafe right now, and he’s starting to lose himself in it.

barry kisses rafe like he’s starving for it, like he’s a desert flower in desperate need of a light rain. rafe can’t breathe and he doesn’t care, he doesn’t need air - he’ll just steal barry’s.

just when he thinks he’s going to pass out, barry pulls back, his thumb stroking along the line of rafe’s cheekbone as he looks up at him.

he gives rafe a look that’s almost adoring, and says, “call me the fuckin’ mona lisa one more time and imma give you some scars of your own, princess.”

rafe just gives barry a wolfish grin, dipping down to nip at his bottom lip, then asks barry one simple, blessedly short question.

“promise?”

#rafebarry #outer banks #ngl this one got away from me LMAO buuuuut here it is anyway! voilà!#barry the secret marvel stan 💋#hope u enjoy nonnie!!#my fics #ask #anon

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