#heave a sigh and a wish for me
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I maybe should not have let my lab learn that I know how to sew
#krasimir came over yesterday and heaved THE MOST dramatic sigh#and (referring to my bug plush) was like 'i wish i had a bug......'#'krasimir do you want me to make you a bug' '........yeah :)'#he then changed his mind and decided he wanted a bat to match my bat i got from hell#'krasimir are you just jealous of the plush i made for the gift exhange' '.........yeah :)'#now im making bats for half the lab. likely more to follow#i love little bat friends but like lmao i am such a pushover
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I DONT WANT TO HEAR A PEEP-
ââ-
ââKuna?â
âGo away.â
âWould you still love me if I was a worm?â
âI barely tolerate you as a human, you want me to tolerate you as a literal pesk?â
You jaw drops as Sukuna continues to play his game, thumbs tapping expertly on the controller as the violence breaks out on screen. Heâs propped on his pillows while youâre curled into his side, the heat from his body sticky and warm as you use his chest as a pillow to thumb through your phone.
Only slightly hurt now that heâs mentioned he wouldnât like you still.
âI bet yuuji would still like me,â you grumble.
âTo be frank, I donât really care what yuuji does.â
If he didnât want you to see the way his jaw ticked at the mention of his brother, he did a poor job of it.
You notice it. And of course, you smirk as you sit up to prod him more.
âI bet heâd pick me up in a little leaf, carry me home and put me in a little tank,â you begin. âI bet heâd hand feed me fruit to my little mouth and make me such a happy worm.â
âWell then why donât you go fuckinâ date yuuji then?â He snarls, motioning at the door. âSince heâd just love you so much.â
âI donât want to date yuuji,â you pout back. âI want to date you. I love you. Even if you donât love me-â
âFor fucks sake-â he pauses his game and, before you can ask, he flips you onto your back, straddling you and gripping your shoulders. He shakes you, and you squeal as he does.
âYes, Iâd still like you. Yes, Iâd build you a stupid little cage. Yes Iâd charge people to come look at you. Yes Iâd feed you fruit, and yes Iâd pet you every day. Yes. Yes. A million times yes, fucking let me play in peace.â With each few words, he pulls your shoulders up before slamming them back down into the bed, the springs bouncing you back into his hands.
ââKuna!â You giggle, your arms bending at the elbow to make minimal distance between you and your man, and despite the annoyance he wishes to convey, thereâs a cheesy smile on his face, brows furrowed in focus and chest heaving from his speech and the act of bouncing you so intensely. He stops with a sigh, sitting up straight and smoothing his hair back.
âYouâre such a fuckinâ nuisance,â he insults.
You smile and sit up to meet his face, cupping it in your hands to guide him into a kiss. He scoffs before ultimately leaning down to comply.
âIm your nuisance,â you mewl, giggling against his lips.
âSadly.â
#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x yn
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- A ROTTEN TREE BEARS ROTTEN FRUIT | I.
god loves you, but not enough to save you
cw: kinktober prompt (whipping/flogging), blasphemy, inaccurate religious practices, lyrical sadomasochism (more so sadism on his part), erotic religious imagery and references, this dynamic is so weird, implied (as in in my mind) bi reader and charlie, plus sized reader, readerâs chest referred to as âbreastsâ & âtitsâ and their crotch referred to as a âholeâ but they do have a seperate one other than their ass, pregnancy fantasy, vomit mention, donât know shit about the show fuck you ryan, blood kink, interchangeable âcharlieâ & âmayhewâ based on pov
do not translate, repost, or feed this work to ai |
kinktober 2024
âShh, let me clean you up, Father.â You smile, so softly, he could snap your neck if he squeezed hard enough.
You run your nails over his back, trimmed to an appropriate length. Father Mayhew sighs the way Adam mightâve when Eveâs walls clenched around him, God never being more important than this bliss. Youâre so devoted, so devout in your worship but heâs beginning to think that you cry out to a different God than he does. If you even believe in an invisible one anymore when you have a savior in the flesh.
âThank you, dear. Thatâd be great.â The pulls are pulled from his lips like rotund wooden beads, as if he has no choice but to endure the stretch as they exit his body one by one.
You shuffle off the bed and kneel behind him, stroking your fingertips down his back like heâs a marble statue you just canât help but reach out and touch. The opposite of Delilah cutting Samsonâs hair, you only want to imbue him with your pure love from the inside out. Spooning milk and honey over the tender welts.
His eyelids crinkle as you kiss the nape of his neck, blotting your lips with rouge. There is no inch of his back left without, and when you arrive at the bigger gashes you lavish the cut with your tongue. Drinking his life away and cleaning him up like a good little whore, servicing the man becomes the only thing of importance to you. You dip the tip of your tongue in the recess of the deeper wounds, and caress his tensing abs from behind when he grits his teeth and traps a curse behind them. You only kitten lick him, but often he wishes you would get real dirty with it, caressing your tongue over his muscles in broad and messy swipes.
His scars from previous lashings glint in the low light of the candles surrounding you. You give them their just desserts of course, grateful pecks of attention and acknowledgement. Soothing his pain, that is the only excuse you have to encroach on the verge of breaking your vows. Father Mayhew gives you a purpose and stops your bleating with a heavy hand if you forget your place. Stern hand to raw and stinging flesh.
Sometimes there is no pillow when you kneel behind him.
The next step is that you turn around and face the wall after picking up the cattail whip off the bed and returning it to its rightful owner. Youâve already discarded your habit, no tunic, coif, or veil left on your person. Theyâre folded neatly beside you, only your rosary nestled in the embrace of your heaving breasts. Your peaks harden in the stuffy humid air, all the oxygen in the world confined to this small room.
He saddles up behind you, his sweaty chest so close to the flesh and contours of your back. Father Charlie breathes you in, taking whiffs of your debauched scent in between silent prayers. He never allows himself to be as forward as you are, his thread of control over his desire has not snapped yet. There are boundaries he can push, but lines he can never cross.
âGood lamb, God recognizes your penance and forgives your soul.â He whispers, dragging the strips of leather down your back until goosebumps rise to the surface.
When you least expect it, he strikes. You muffle a shout into the wall and Father Charlieâs cock jumps under his towel. Briefly he imagines slamming into your tempting body dry, with no preparation, making you sure you feel as much pain as possible. The way youâd wince with every step around the church, the begging in your puppy dog eyes when youâd take communion. How he could hold it above your head like a bone in the shape of a fractured cross, dangling just out of reach of your gorgeous mouth.
The devil gives him dreams of fucking your throat until youâre vomiting and hoarse.
Every droplet of bed peeking out from the cracks of your skin to say hello nourishes him. He shushes you when youâre unable to hold back your sounds, cooing when he notices you humping the air after the fifteenth hit. You just canât help yourself, nerdy by nature and nurture.
You start soaking the pillow beneath you, imagining what he must look like. A man and his broad hulking body curling around you as he hurts you. Your hole suddenly feels so empty, you have a night of riding your pillow ahead of you, you just want to be good for him in all the ways youâre supposed to be.
As you let a demon of sex control your body, he spies a flash of a white lacy thong nestled between your plump ass cheeks. He knows that if you had also worn a towel, he wouldâve hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it off. You donât get to hide any part of yourself from your Father. And he knows he will have to give himself another lashing for those thoughts alone. Even the secret wedding he plans as he strokes his angry red cock, always edging himself, heâs afraid of what would happen if he lets go. How loud the iron gates would be when they creak open. Like the way he wants to spread your ass open and toy with the hidden puckered hole.
His words are in his actions, reopening your old wounds and bringing the warm leather across your back one last time, he hopes your blood soaks through the material. Staining it, the way you have already stained his heart. Father Charlie grins despite himself when you slump against the wall, sliding his bible-roughened hands over your love handles and sticks his pecs to your shoulders.
âYou did lovely, today. The Lord thanks you, and Iâm so proud of you, you know that?â His thick fingers brush along the bottoms of your tits, never going higher.
He wants to slap them, wrap the beads of your rosary around them until the flesh bulges, painting your nipples in a mix of both of your blood. Marking your souls irreversibly. Marriage of the spirit, a ritualistic wedding in the eyes of the beholder. You shiver like a mouse in front of a snake, and beads of precum fall from his cockhead.
Did Saint Teresa have these feelings when she had the vision of an angel piercing her heart with their golden spear? Did Saint Sebastian when he was pierced by those arrows under the order of the Emperor? Did David when he wrenched Goliathâs head back by his hair and bested him into humiliation? Did it compare to the covenant he formed with Jonathan?
He kisses your glittering scars in thanks and washes your blood away with his lips and tongue too. But unlike any other day in which youâve done this, he stands up with a grunt and pulls you up with him. Father Mayhew falls backwards onto his bed and so you follow dutifully, and because the hold he has on your wrist is strong to the point of bruising. You lay your head over his heart and pant into his skin as he teases your plush thigh, tracing crosses into the chubby expanse of skin.
âNo one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.â He cajoles, walking on that burning tightrope with you.
He wonders if your cunt would be just as chubby, if youâve ever thought about humping the organ bench, riper than the forbidden fruit, and he mentally catalogs an extra long session of repentance. To be fresh and clean again. Father Charlie will go through his sermons with his lighthearted tone and charming personality, desperate to hide that heâs thinking of plunging his tongue in your asshole. Sipping and slurping up your musk like itâs the only holy water he needs to live. Or entice you into eating his ass, you would love being able to serve him properly, no doubt.
To nourish you with his fragments, his vertebrae and viscera. The body and the blood. The teeth and the testicles.
Heâll sit in quiet contemplation in front of the pulpit, pouring wine over your body in his mind. Following the red trail with his tongue as it trickles down the valley of your chest and dips in and out the folds of your belly. Heâll leisurely open his mouth on a silent moan at the top of your mound, the hairs like yellowing blades of glades against his philtrum, in a perfect paradise thereâd be blood there too. His own personal, pervertedly literal, red sea.
Youâd look so beautiful, swollen and fat with a child growing in your womb. A shame that can never happen, but a blessing that no heretic of a man could snatch you up and take you away from him. Your flock is here, and the heavy crook of his staff is all you need to guide you back home when you go astray. Trapped in his thighs, molded by his hands, punctured into line with his cock.
#kinktober#kinktober 2024#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x reader#father charlie mayhew x reader#charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew x reader#nicholas alexander chavez smut#nicholas chavez smut#father charlie mayhew smut#grotesquerie x reader#grotesquerie smut#priest kink#â°ïž.deaddove#dead dove do not eat#tw flogging#just in case#tw whipping#ryan murphy
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àŒâ§âË. "Shut up, mom!" prank with JJK men PART 2
â featuring: higuruma hiromi, ryomen sukuna and fushiguro toji
âsynopsis: your child(ren) has a death wish for sure.
ânote: sorry for the long wait! it's here at last :)
àŒâ§âË. reblog + comment!
àŒâ§âË. HIGURUMA HIROMI
Your husband was a busy man. You and your daughter could count the days he spent at home with the two of youâlazily snuggling his two favorite girls on the couch as you rewatch your favorite family movie (he claims that Encanto isnât his favorite but he has memorized all the songs). So what better way to spice up the day than by pranking your favorite man?
âSweetie, what did I say about tissues on the kitchen counter?â
âHuh?â your daughterâs annoyed tone makes Higuruma look up from his phone with a quirked eyebrow. âOh yeah, whatever I just forgot.â
âI said it many times before. I donât like tissues on the kitchen counter.â
âOh would you just drop it?â your daughter sighs, annoyed. She gets up from the dining table and makes her way around the couch, walking past her dad. âYouâre always making a big deal out of shit like that.â
âHuh-â
âHey? Donât use that kind of language with meââ
âJust shut up already!âÂ
In the blink of an eye, Higurumaâs phone dropped from his hand and he stood up from the couch, nostrils flared and body seething with anger.
âWhat did you just say?âÂ
âDad-â
âDid you just tell your mother to shut up?â You feel bad for making your daughter witness this side of her dad, but sheâs quick to give her nervous giggle with her hands up to her chest.Â
âDad, itâs a prank! I promise!âÂ
âHoney, itâs a prank.â Itâs comedic the way his eyes go from almost bulging out of his skull, to deflating like a balloon. He heaves out a sigh he doesnât know he was holding and drops his head.
âWhat part of this prank seemed funny to either of you?â
âMom said she liked it when you were protective of herââ
âWhy are you exposing your mother like that!âÂ
âYou made me the target of his anger!âÂ
àŒâ§âË. RYOMEN SUKUNA
âWhere are the brats?â Sukunaâs voice is flat as he walks into the kitchen. Dinner was served, and yet his twin boys were nowhere to be seen. âStill upstairs?âÂ
âYeah, I called for them earlier but they donât want to get off that damn console.â You sigh in defeat, leaning against the kitchen counter. âIâll try again, wait.âÂ
Sukuna lets you handle this by yourself and takes a seat by the dining table. He watches intently as you make your way upstairs and then a minute later, a fight ensues. Loud voices and the sound of doors slamming can be heard, which makes your husbandâs eye twitch.Â
âI told you to take out the trash and you said no! I tell you dinner is ready and you say leave me alone?â you continue to complain as you walk down the stairs, your tall teenage boys right behind you, sporting the same scowl as their dadâs.Â
âWhy are you being overdramatic? I told you Iâll do it later!â
âI want you to do it now, the kitchen reeks!â
âThatâs a you problem, woman.â
âWhat did you just say to me?â
âWould you just let it go? Just shut uâ!â
Your twin boy doesnât get to finish his sentence before your husband is pushing his chair back, aura as dangerous as ever. Youâve seen Sukuna angry before, youâve seen him in all of his states but this one was by far the scariest.
âBrat.âÂ
Sukuna doesnât let his son finish his sentence before he takes off his wedding ring and places it on the dining table. âLetâs go outside. You and I.â
âWhaââ
âYou eat dinner without us and youââ he points at the troublesome one of the pair. âWill get to eat if you beat me.â
âBut dadââ
âIâm not asking you, Iâm telling you.â
âBabe,â you step between your fuming husband and his son, hands caressing his chest. âCalm down, itâs fineââ
âGet out of the way, woman.â he says with a snarl, but you can feel his body relax under your touch.
âBut it was just a prank.â
âA prank?â Now youâre scared for your life. âWho told you that shit is funny? You like being disrespected?âÂ
âNo, but I like seeing you angry,â
âOh Iâll show you what I can do when Iâm angry.â
âWe are quite literally right here.â
âThen leave.â
âBabe!âÂ
àŒâ§âË. FUSHIGURO TOJI
âMegumi, do you want some?â Youâre in the car on your way back from a party that one of your friends has thrown for her toddler when you turn to your own kid with some cake. âItâs your favorite.âÂ
âNo.âÂ
âNo?â Toji notices your frown and his sonâs unusual attitude towards you but says nothing, eyes fixated on the road. âWell okay,âÂ
You heave out a sigh, biting back a smile as you look out the window. Toji locks eyes with his own through the rearview mirror and the child looks away almost immediately. Whatâs up with his attitude today?
The moment you walk into the house, youâre taking off Megumiâs shoes whoâs still doing a pretty good job at pretending to be having an attitude and he makes his way to the kitchen where he grabs the box of cookies which he knows heâs not allowed near.Â
âGumi, no.â
âI want one.â
âAfter dinner, okay?â the six year old boy huffs and puffs and when you take the box away from him, he pretends to throw a fit as he starts to make his way upstairs.
âGo to the bathroom, I gotta give you a bath before eating.â
âShut up!â You donât know where Toji was, you donât feel him behind you until you see him storm towards the stairs. All you hear is loud thuds on the wooden floor and your heart is in your throat.
âFucking brat,â he mumbles under his breath. âWhat the fuck did you just tell your mom?âÂ
âTojiââ
âShe wanted to prank you.â Megumi confesses almost immediately, pointing an accusatory finger at you. âShe told me that you look âhotâ when youâre mad so she wanted to test something.âÂ
You stand there, dumbfounded and flustered at how fast your kid exposed you. Suddenly, you feel small as you feel Toji turn around and stare down at you with his dark eyes.Â
âIs that so?âÂ
âMhm. She also said that she will call uncle Satoru to come take me afterââ
âMegumi!âÂ
COMMISSIONS
2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.
#moon's works#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#higuruma hiromi#higuruma x reader#jjk higuruma#jjk sukuna#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen higuruma
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A sigil of mine.
Summary: the reader is taken from Winterfell while Cregan is at the Wall. He's a vengeful man.
Warning: kidnapping, dread, guilt, blood, scars, branding, talks of torture, our boy Cregan embodying Joel Miller when Ellie gets taken in the Last of Us
This one is dark
A/n: based on an ask! Also, fuck the Lannisters
I'll proofread laterđ«Ą
Masterlist
..............................................
"Lord Stark! An urgent letter has arrived from Winterfell!" A brother of the Wall yelled over the sound of the harsh wind that roared through the icy halls.
Cregan turned his entire body to him, a sudden pain in his stomach. What could be so urgent?
Cregan nearly rips the letter from the man's hand as he nears. The letter is stained with a dark red in places and he feels himself choke a little.
Lord Stark, Winterfell is under attack. By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I tried to protect the Lady as best as I could. It was an honor to serve under House Stark and see you become a man. Please forgive me. Maester Tinedel
Cregan's hands shook violently as his eyes roamed over the paper another time. Then once more. His jaw set harshly as he looked up to the man that had brought such devastating news. "When did this arrive?" He growled lowly.
"Just this morning. Is it dated by any chance, my Lord?"
Cregan flipped the page and surely enough, the old maester had been wise enough to do so.
The air in his lungs escaped, creating a cloud in the cold air.
"Three weeks now."
The man stared in confusion at Cregan's sudden distress. "Is everything alright?"
Cregan crumpled the paper in his fist. "Ready my horse."
The brother of the Wall shook his head, "My lord, it is the bulk of winter. You can't possibly leave in such conditions. And you are not properly pack-"
"Ready. My. Horse. I leave within the hour."
The Warden of the North stormed away, a heaviness in his step from the sudden weight on his shoulders.
âŠ
Cregan had always thought the travel to the Wall and back took too long on a good day.
Now, he was a mere bundle of nerves trying to tie what he could to his horse.
It would take too long. Whatever happened had happened and he wasn't there to save them.
To save her.Â
He knew the guilt would eat his alive no matter how long it took him to get back.Â
Surely another letter would arrive soon if things had turned for the better, but he wouldn't wait for that letter to show.Â
The odds of one never arriving were too high.
"Are you certain of this, Lord Stark?"
He turned to the stable master with the hint of unshed tears in his eyes. "I'm not sure of anything. But I must return home."
The stable master nodded in acceptance, "And you're really not going to take men with you?"
Cregan huffed in frustration. "I cannot take men from the Wall. Their war is here. I cannot ask them to fight my own war as well."
"My lord, you're fighting both wars. Surely you can allow for some assistance."
Cregan hoisted himself up onto his horse. "I cannot promise when I'll return. But, should everything be righted, I will write back."
"If I may?"
"Yes?"
The man heaved a long sigh as placed his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't wish this feeling on my worst enemy, my lord. May the gods be with you on your journey and at your arrival."
Cregan bits the inside of his cheek. "Thank you."
With that, Cregan clicks at his horse, and the long journey began.
âŠ
As expected, the journey was grueling. The cold was killing him from the outside in, but the constant need to stop and warm up was killing him from the inside out.
He couldn't even eat without thinking of the blood that stained the letter.
He couldn't sleep without thinking of the screams of his wife as another man's hands laid on her.
Even in the best case, the horror was too much to bare.
Despite his initial crumpling of the letter, Cregan kept it stashed away in his few belongings, smoothing it out and reading it every night before sleep consumed him.Â
Just to crumple it again.
âŠ
Despite the journey taking a usual two to three weeks when the weather was obedient, Cregan made it back to Winterfell in a week and half.
The consistent shiver to his bones only spurred him faster.Â
He had plenty of time to consider his plan, should he truly be in need of one.
And now was the time to use it.Â
âŠ
Winterfell laid still.Â
Cregan had expected fire and battle. A sound of swords clashing and men roaring.
Quietness was worse.
He had managed to get through the bulk of people with his hood up and his usual dire wolf cloak long abandoned.Â
For in this moment, he was no Stark.Â
He was a vengeful man.
He managed to sneak into the walls of the very place he should have been highly welcomed in.
For such a burly man, he was deathly silent. His boots made no sound on the stone floors, and his breath was so low that it may be thought that he didn't breathe at all.
He stood outside of his own chamber that he shared with his wife. He reached up and his hand faltered against the wood of the door. He couldn't dare open it.
"Oh, Lord Stark! Oh, thank the gods!" A female voice shrieked in relief.
Cregan flinched at the sound, turning on his heel to see the woman. His wife's handmaiden. He relaxed a bit.
"Oh. Sorry, milord. I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just I didn't know when you would return. Or if you'd return at all. And I-"
"Where is she?" He quietly interrupted.
The handmaiden stiffened and her face fell. "I⊠I dunno."
"She's not here?" He dared to ask.
She wrung her hands nervously. "You don't⊠you don't know?"
He tried to hold back his frustration. "Are they still here?"
She shook her head. "Left not long after the attack. Left just a few of us to pick up the pieces."
"And my wife? What happened to her?"
She let the silence set.Â
He sighed in frustration and his hand moved to the chamber door.
"I wouldn't, milord," she warned.
He threw her a glare and dare to step in.
He should have listened.
The room laid in disarray. The furs from the bed were thrown on the floor. The furniture was moved, an obvious conflict had occurred. But that's not what Cregan's eyes moved to.
It was the scraps of clothing that were strewn across the room in various places. Some bloody.
His jaw went slack and he knelt down and picked up a strip of the cloth. Stark blue.Â
His thumb rubbed at the fabric. He knew it well. His favorite dress on her.Â
"They came in the early morning." The handmaiden spoke from the doorway. "Lady Stark had just gotten dressed for the day. I was⊠I was braiding her hair at the vanity whenâŠ"
"When..?" Cregan questioned.Â
"It happened so suddenly. The screams."
He stood. "Who did it?"
"House Lannister."
Cregan took a deep breath. "Is she dead?"
"Milord-"
"-Was she slain by a Lannister?"
"No. Not exactly."
"What does that mean?"
"They took her. She could be dead now, I dunno. But they took her alive."
He felt a bit of relief move down his spine. "When you last saw her, she indeed was drawing breath?"
"Yes."
"Then that's enough for me. And Maester Tinedel?"
She tilted her head back and forth. "He lives. But barely."
He kept the fabric in his hand. "Take me to him."
âŠ
"My Lord!"
"Please, don't get up on my account." Cregan stood at the elder man's bedside. "You're still healing."
The maester relaxed and leaned back against the headboard. "It takes more than a blade to change my loyalty, dear Cregan."
"You've been with me since the day I was born, old man," he teased. "And still you defend me when I am not there."
"There has been no greater honor."
Cregan pulled a chair to his bedside, sitting down. "Tell me what you remember."
"It's not a pleasant story for you, my lord. But very well." He leaned back in thought. "I was in my chamber. It was morning. I heard sounds from the corridor and I dared to go venture out. I defended as much as I could, but an old man is no match to young men with longswords. They took the lady from her room. As far as I know, they still have her-"
"-Do you know where they are now?"
"I'd assume they moved back to Casterly Rock. I have reason to believe that you have been betrayed by one of your bannermen, my lord. How else would they have gotten through the North so quietly?"
Cregan considered the man's words, running a shaky hand over his growing beard. "Who?"
The maester grunted as he sat up further. "I could hardly guess, my lord.
"Whoever it is, I'll murder him where he stands."
âŠ
Gathering men together quickly was not a difficult task for Cregan.
Many men had skin in the game of thrones, and equally so, most were loyal unto death for their lord.
While most banner men would have answered a call to war, there wasn't enough time to gather an army while he was there, leaving the job to one of his closest bannerman, the Lord of House Bolton.
His mind laid in constant worry.Â
âŠ
In time, the men made it to Lord Reed, the last of the Northern Lords before being out of the North entirely.Â
"'Tis truly a shame of what happened to the castle," Lord Reed said as he ushered Cregan further into Greywater Watch. "Any ideas of who might have done such an act?"
He shook his head, eyeing Lord Glover next to him. "No. No, we haven't. Hence why I don't have an army behind me."
"Well, that's understandable. Whoever did such a crime should be punished by all the gods alike, sneaking such an ambush like that."
Cregan nodded, "Yes, yes, they should. I thank you for housing us on such short notice."
Reed forced a smile. "Of course, Lord Stark." He continued moving down the hall. "The North would never sit by while a Lord's wife was taken from him."
Cregan's foot faltered. He paused completely. His voice was low. "I never said my wife was taken."
Lord Reed froze in pure fear at his mistake.
And he was shoved against the wall with Cregan's wolfish growl in his face. "Where is she?"
Reed gasped and fought against the man, but was no match. "I⊠I don't know what you mean, my lord⊠p⊠please.."
Cregan pulled him away by the throat to hit his head against the stone wall again, repeating himself. "WHERE IS SHE?"
Reed sputtered and groaned at the pain. "I⊠They didn't tell me⊠I swearâŠ. I swear that to you."
"Your word means nothing to me." Cregan looked over his shoulder to Glover. "Write back to Winterfell. Tell them Lord Reed is dead."
"âŠMy Lord?" Glover faltered.
"Tell them."
"Aye, my lord."
Reed shook violently in Cregan's grip. "I swear. I swear! I don't know! Please!"
Cregan leaned into the man's face. "You're gonna tell me what you do know. Aren't you?"
âŠ
"Fucking Lannisters!" Cregan's voice roared through the Watch. "Get Glover. We're leaving now."
"My lord?" One of the men asked.
"Do what I said."
"Aye."
"May house Reed learn from its mistake."
âŠ
Little did Cregan know yet, Loreon Lannister's brigade had been stopped by the Blackwoods, just shy of Lannister territory.Â
The young Lord Benjicot Blackwood had rode out to meet them when word was sent of a brigade sneaking through his land.Â
He raged at the sight of a terrified woman clad in a Stark blue dress. He vowed that the Lannisters would not see to their land should they refuse to surrender the woman to him.
Hence the small battle that had commenced.
But that was two weeks ago.Â
Cregan looked over the land, the blood still staining the grass. "Think they made it?"
Glover hummed. "Lord Benjicot is a formidable enemy, I've heard. Wouldn't want to anger that boy in the slightest."
"Thank fuck!" A voice yelled over the field.
Lord Benjicot rode his horse out to the group in a fast trot. He spoke when he got closer "Knew you'd be quick but I figured it would be another few weeks."
"Don't underestimate angry northern men," Glover grimaced.
"Or Blackwoods, it seems," Cregan chimed in, looking over the field. "I believe I'm indebted to you in some capacity."
"Don't speak too soon, Lord Stark," Benjicot smiled. "You haven't asked how we faired."
Cregan's brows furrowed. "And how did you fair?"
Benjicot's smile grew.Â
"We have her."
Cregan reached a hand out to steady himself on his horse from the sheer relief that swept through his body. "GodsâŠ"
"Fucking bastards should have journeyed by sea if they were smart. Should've known that any ally of the Queen is an ally of mine."
"You have her then? In Raventree Hall?" Glover asked what they were all thinking.
"I do."
Cregan voice recovered. "Take me to her. Please."
âŠ
"My lady?" One of the Blackwood handmaidens spoke up.
Y/n looked up at the woman.Â
The faint hints of scratches and bruises were still on the lady's skin, but she had been given time to heal due to the Blackwoods' bravery. But regardless, the tremor in her hands remained.Â
"I've been sent to inform you of a visitor that will soon be arriving."
Her heart leaped from her chest. She found herself moving more to the window and peering out.Â
Cregan.
The man and his horse moved as one. It had always impressed her.Â
Her sluggish behavior left the second he came into view.Â
Not caring for her shoes, her cloak, anything, she ran past the handmaiden quicker than her feet could move.Â
Tripping and stumbling along the way, ignoring the pain, she finally made it to the large doors of Raventree and bolted out of them.
Cregan had just pulled his horse to a stop when he caught sight of her.
He couldn't remember actually getting down from his horse he had gotten to her so quickly.
His strong arms held her to him in a vice grip, his hands indecisive of where to stay- her waist, her back, her hair, the constant need to feel her wholly gripped him.
Equally so, her arms wrapped around his neck firmly, as if to make sure he was real.Â
"Fuck. Don't ever do this again," he sighed as he placed his chin on the top of her head.Â
She sobbed lightly against his chest and her hands gripped his cloak so tightly her knuckles turned white.Â
"Are you hurt?" He asked in worry.Â
She hiccuped through tears.Â
Cregan pulled her away, cupping her cheeks so he could study her. "Speak to me, pretty girl. Where are you hurt?"
She hiccuped again. "I⊠I'm fine."
"Where did they touch you?"
"CreganâŠ"
"Where?"
Benjicot had caught up at that point. "I wouldn't say they were delicate with her, Lord Stark. Most of it is faded, but the ones on her arms are rather nasty."
Cregan never looked away from her, keeping her eye contact. He tilted his head down, silently asking to gaze at her arms.
He hesitantly pulled her sleeves up and gawked slightly.Â
Green bruises still remained at her wrists, no doubt from dragging her along. He tried to ignore the faint scabs from the scrapes that laid in various spots.Â
"They did a number on you, didn't they?"
She looked at him fearfully, beyond nervous for his reaction to all of this.Â
Benjicot spoke up again. "You've no idea." He placed a steady hand on the woman's back, ignoring Cregan's protective glare as he did so. "You're safe here. Why don't you show him?"
"Show me what?"
She turned to look over her shoulder at Benjicot, "Must I?"
Cregan was growing frustrated. If there was one thing he hated, it was no knowing things. "Show me."
She hesitantly nodded, and Benjicot stepped up to her, untying her bodice from the back. Once he did so, he spun her around to have her back face Cregan. Then he gently pulled down her sleeve until her right shoulder blade was exposed.Â
A Lannister sigil was burned into the skin. Ugly scarring around the marred flesh.Â
Her head was hung in shame as she stood there, avoiding eye contact with everyone.Â
Cregan's hand came up to brush the skin achingly slow. He couldn't find words.Â
Benjicot broke the silence. "Amidst this, there is good news."
"I guarantee there isn't," Cregan growled back quickly.
"I have Loreon Lannister under my care as well."
Cregan's head snapped to him. "What?"
"The man is in my dungeons, Lord Stark."
Cregan's hand moved up to Y/n's hair, brushing it aside to fully view what was exposed of her back.Â
But his eyes couldn't move from the brand.
"Inside, you say? Still breathing?"
Benjicot let out an amused chuckle. "I refused to take that privilege from you."
Lord Stark's hand brushed her shoulder again. "I fear I owe the Blackwoods more than I own."
âŠ
Not long later, Cregan stepped into her room.Â
She turned her head towards him.
Cregan was covered in blood.
She stood suddenly. "Are you harmed?"
His brows furrowed, looking down at himself, as if forgetting all he had done. "Oh. None of it is mine."
"You killed him?"
Cregan sighed and shut the door. "We'll not discuss this now."
"Cregan-"
"-No. Don't ask again."
Her face fell a bit. She moved to the window and sat again.Â
He watched her. "Forgive me. There's still rage in my heart."
"Still? Is it because of me?"
He faltered. "No. No, of course not." He rubbed his chin. "You did nothing wrong."
"If I had journeyed to the Wall with you that day, would you have been as angry if Winterfell was attacked?"
He paused as considered her question. "You know the answer."
She hummed and looked out of the window.
He followed her gaze. "Forgive me for taking so long."
"I watched out this window."
"I know you did."
"What if Benjicot hadn't have found me?"
He sat down next to her. "He did though."
"But what if he hadn't?"
Cregan dared to reach out and pull her hair aside, tugging her sleeve down to see the brand again.Â
She finally turned to look at him with teary eyes.Â
"I'd rather not think about those things," Cregan answered softly.
"Will you wash yourself, please?"
He paused, remembering the blood all over him. "Sorry, sweet girl. I didn't realize that would bother you so much. I will, I promise."
She looked back to the window. "Will we go home soon?"
Cregan stood to go to the washbowl across the room. "We will in time."
"What's stopping us, Cregan?"
He didn't have the heart to actually say that it was her. "Be patient, my girl, alright?"
âŠ
Benjicot walked with Cregan down the corridor. "I apologize that I did not manage to capture Lord Jason. That will haunt me."
Cregan shook his head, "You've done much for the North. We'll not forget this act of kindness."
Benji grinned, "The North remembers."
"Indeed."
"Tell me something, my lord?"
Cregan nodded.
"What did you do in those dungeons?"
Cregan sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't want you to think differently of me, old friend."
Benjicot shook his head, "Nothing could do so, Cregan. You've seen me rather bloody. It's only fair."
He paused and considered his words, carefully phrasing himself. "A part of me hopes that his son doesn't find out what I've done to his father. It was almost too much to bare."
"What do you mean?"
Cregan pulled his dagger from his belt, running a hand over the blade. "I'll have to sharpen this later, if you understand what I'm saying."
Benjicot nodded. "I believe I do. But more context might be beneficial."
Cregan leaned forward and spoke lowly. "The dead man wears a sigil of mine in return."
The Blackwood's eyes looked down to the dagger and back to Cregan. "I see."
"If there truly is life after death, my friend, I hope he lives the next with my reminder."
"Surely, he would. I'd say you were merciful in ending him regardless."
âŠ
Cregan rubbed her thigh absentmindedly as the maester inspected the brand.Â
"It's healing well, but as you can imagine, it will leave behind a nasty scar."
Cregan clenched his jaw at the thought of his own wife living with a lion burned onto her. "No risk of a fever?"
He shook his head. "A clean burn like this rarely risks such a thing."
"Well, the north thanks you for your work."
The maester excused himself.
Since finding her again, Cregan had a difficulty understanding what she was going through. She was bottling everything up, he could tell.Â
"Sweet girl?" He asked gently, continuing to rub at her leg.
"Is it ugly?" She responded quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Cregan wasn't sure what to say to that. "It looks painful. Is it?"
She hummed, eyes still anchored. "It didn't hurt as much as the laughs."
"They laughed? While they did this to you?"
She nodded.Â
Her hand moved up to pull her sleeve back up, but Cregan was quick to stop her, placing his hand over hers.Â
She looked up questioningly.
"You're as gorgeous as the day I met you." His other hand moved hair behind her ear. "And as beautiful as the day I married you. As well as when I left for the Wall this winter." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek gently. "You're just changed is all."
"But the-"
"-Yes. Yes, it pains me to see it. But not because of what it is, but because you were hurt and I did not defend you as I should have."
Silence fell over them until she spoke up.
"Tell me I'm yours."
Cregan froze. "What?"
"I need to hear it. To really know."
"Well, you are. You know that."
"Please, Cregan."
Cregan stood from the bed, rounding it until he was behind her. He reached out and brushed the brand again, trying to ignore the shiver that went down her spine. "You're mine."
The words relaxed her, her shoulders moving down.
Cregan placed his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them. "You belong to the Warden of the North." He grinned. "A vile and vicious beast intent on killing anything that nears it. Almost anything."
She smiled lightly, the first one in weeks. "And what is that one thing that the wolf likes?"
"A pretty she-wolf that brings down his defense."
One of his hands moved to the back of her neck and she all but melted, her head leaning back now.Â
He continued this for a while, letting the silence sit, but he soon leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to the marred skin of her shoulder.Â
"You're mine." He kissed her shoulder. "And I don't need a brand to prove so." He kissed behind her ear. "You know who you belong to, don't you?"
"âŠyou, Cregan."
"Hmm?" He feigned.Â
"You."
He smirked and nipped at her ear. "And who is that? Tell me."
She turned as much as her injuries could allow. Her voice softened as his eyes gazed into hers. "Cregan Stark. I belong to Cregan Stark."
"And I do to you, pretty girl."
He closed the distance, placing the softest kiss he'd ever managed onto her lips.
When they pulled away from one another, she spoke. "Do we get to return soon?"
He nodded, twirling her hair between his fingers. "Soon. I'm only waiting for Lord Bolton to arrive with the men."
"Th⊠what?"
He puffed out his chest in pride. "I don't do well with spoiled southerners. Bolton is riding an army to the border of Lannister territory, with Benjicot's permission, of course."
"An army? You can't start a war over me."
"I didn't start anything, my love." He kissed her again. "I only finish it."
.........................................................
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#fanfiction#cregan stark x reader#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark x you#game of thrones fanfiction#cregan stark x y/n#game of thrones x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#cregan stark imagine#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark#cregan stark fanfic#hotd cregan#hotd fanfiction#cregan x reader#game of thrones fic#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon#house stark
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TW:Â yandere, noncon, size/strength difference
gn reader
Thinking about breaking things off with your fuck friend 'cause you feel he's been catching feelings you have no intention of pitching...
âWhy.â He asked, and the cross youâd made on your fingers in a wish to avoid the entire conversation untangled with a sigh.
âPlease, donât act dumb.â You groaned, exasperated and slightly irked. âYou know whyâŠ.âÂ
âNo. Tell me.â He argued, and you sighed again in regret of your own common decency â wishing youâd taken the entire break-off over text instead, or at the very least taken the time to think about what you would say or do if and when he got this way.Â
âYou...â
You hesitated, taking a second to decide whether or not you really ought to voice it out loud â not because you had any doubts of it being true â but because the man in front of you was still very much a large brawny beefcake with temper issues no matter your sneaking suspicion that he saw you as something more than just a fuck friend.
âYouâre getting too...â You continued, still scrambling for better words. Coming up short. âClingy.â
He paused, his expression going from searching to a mix of offended and scrutinous.
âClingy?â He repeated, forced disbelief a present factor in his tone. âIf I remember correctly, youâre the one who clings to me- screaming my name- begging me to cum inside you and-â
You cut his rant off with yet another sigh accompanied by a shake of your head. âThatâs not what I mean by clingy. Iâm sorry, I should have said emotional, and your comment just proved that.â
You folded your arms across your chest, watching him reel.
âAnyway, it doesnât really matter. Weâre done.âÂ
You left him on the sofa to go put your shoes back on â admonishing yourself for coming inside in the first place when you could have just as quickly done this on the doorstep and walked away.
âYou're not going anywhere until we talk this through.â He followed, his stronger hand latching onto your upper arm in a grip that was unnecessarily harsh.
You didnât really mind, though â it was his lack of charm that had charmed you to begin with â you only wished heâd remained that same savage he was and not gone all lovey-dovey soft on you.
âThere's nothing to discuss.â You felt as though you were repeating yourself, getting more annoyed by the fact. âIt was fun; now it isn't.â You underlined, looking back into his eyes, cringing when seeing the gloss of something that you really hoped wouldnât amount to tears while you were still there.
âI'm gonna need more than that.â He said, the grip on your arm still kept firm with no inclination of letting up.
You didnât really want things to get more awkward by asking him to let you go â feeling as though maintaining the position of strength was important so he not mistake your resolution.
He had a nasty habit of never taking you seriously.
âYouâre being childish.â You stated.
âChildish?!â
His grip tightened with his outburst, and youâd be lying if you said it didnât have your heart jump to your throat.
"Let go of me." Your voice had significantly diminished.
"You think you can tease me like this and then tell me to piss off?â He seethed, your arm aching in the bruising grip he had on it as he pulled you close until your face was an inch from his. âThink again."
Your breath thinned under his glare, and you felt nearly too stiff to do anything except stare back up at him in wait.
âCalm down.â You tried, but it seemed choice words were too little too late to save you.
âI am calm.â He hissed back into your face before pulling you back to the sofa.
Throwing you down on your back â you didnât even have the time to gasp before he was on top of you.
âGet off me-â You whined, your hands shooting forth â trying with all your might to heave him off, but ultimately amounting to nothing more than a slight annoyance to the much larger man on top.
âIt's all about sex with you, right? You want to have fun, right?â He said in a craze, and you cringed while he leaned down to graze your chest with chin-stubble and lips, whispering at your peachfuzz until goosebumps rose. âSo let's have some fun.â
âStop it â I said I don't want to anymore â Iâm being serious.â You tried, once again â appealing to his reason.
But it would seem he was beyond reasonâŠ
âOh? You're being serious?â He mocked with a sneer and a laugh. âYou don't look it. If you want me to stop so badly, then stop me. Come on~ try a little harder. Show me how serious you are.â
Youâre not sure why you took him up on the challenge, as youâd long known of your differences in build â how you posed as much of a threat as a bug in a mason jar...
But even a bug will try to escape still after the lid has been sealed.
âCome on~ you're not even trying~â He grossly crooned, smiling at your pitiful attempt at twisting him off with the useless help of your silly hands â how your much smaller body writhed beneath his weight and tried wriggling free.
Laughing dryly, he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cushion beneath you. Sagging over you, his breath fanned your lips.
âWhat was I to you, huh?â He asked in a murmur, his face blank but his eyes swirling. âJust a toy?â
You were afraid to breathe, only keeping your gaze terror-wide of what he might do â still grasping to fathom how heâd even felt possessed enough to do this much â confused as to how youâd missed the signs while having not a single clue what more he was capable of.
âGuess now you're my toy, huh...â He muttered coldly.
And you just couldnât help the whimper that it tore from you â finally understanding exactly what position you were in.
The disorienting knowing of what was soon to happen dawned on you mercilessly â and you completely broke under the hefty weight it had.Â
âOh? Youâ gonna cry now?â He scoffed before hissing. âThat's cute, seeing as Iâm the one whoâs had his heart stepped on.â
âS-stop it, get off me-â You cried, whole body shaking where you squirmed to no use nor end.
âNot so cold-hearted now, are yah, fuckin' bitch?â Was all he had to say while leaning into where thick streams of tears rapidly ran down your cheeks in stingy streaks. âYou scared?â He whispered in licks at your ear. âGonna start begging, hm?â
You only shook â eyes squeezed tightly to a close.
âNahâŠâ His tone scraped, similar to how the shaven stubble on his chin scratched lightly against your neck as he started placing small kisses there despite your whines. â'Cause you want this too. I know you do.â He insisted. âYou're just scared I'll break your little heart at some point.â
Youâre breath hitched as his hands parted with its twin â leaving it to keep your wrists pinned by itself as the other one traveled down between your bodies to undo your zipper.
You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to â listening to him and his lovesick speech â full of so many things you feared could trigger much sicker things.
âBut I promise you that no oneâs heart is gonna break here.â He vowed, still with his lips pressed wetly against your throat. âNot yours or mine.â
BNHA â Bakugou, Shinso, Kirishima
JJK â Sukuna, Gojo
HQ â Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK â Reo, Isagi
AOT â Eren
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jjk smut#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha smut#my hero smut#yandere csm#yandere aot
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maybe in another universe; m |jjk
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 6.2k
genre: idol!jungkook, angst, childhood friends, exes to lovers?, smut
rating: 18+
warnings: protected sex, making out, groping, fingering, jk is saur in love <3, oc is an overthinker, they're v needy, he loves watching her cum <3, giggly kisses, jk wants to hit it raw so bad đđŒđđŒ, one (1) boob squeeze i think, oc scratches his back đ€
summary: jungkook is tipsy as he wanders the streets of seoul, and still, you're all he can think about.
a/n: it's bestie jk's bday!!! so here's a little fic n i swear i was gonna post smth fluffy but...here we are!!!!! sorry not sorry </3 love u
âââââââââââââââââââââ
âI need you.â
âWhat?â
âI miss you so bad.â
âAre you drunk?â
âI love you. So much. It kinda hurts.â
âJungkook.â
Silence. Except for the faint noises of cars passing by.
You hear a little sigh. âMissed hearing you say my name.â
Your fingers clasp tighter around your phone. âWhyâd you call?â Itâs 2 a. m., and the only reason you answered is because you were worried. This is the first time heâs called since the breakup.
âJust âcause,â he mumbles. You can hear the pout heâs speaking with. âWe have a one week break from tour and I came back to Korea. Missed home and Mum, and you.â
âYouâre in Busan, then?â
âSeoul.â
Heâs here. So close.
You shake your head. Take a steady breath to calm your giddy heart. You shouldnât care.
âWas at my parentsâ for two...three days.â After a short pause, he continues, âBeen wanting to talk to you all day long, but I didnât have enough courage.â
âI mean...â You slump back against the couch, your head falling back. âThere isnât anything for us to talk about.â
âNo?â he asks, confused. âIâve got so much to say, though.â
âI meant, like, we shouldnât be talking. At all. âCause weâre â weâre done.â You thought you were. You thought you made it clear when you broke up with him.
âHavenât you missed me at all?â He sounds both accusing and sad, and you think your heart breaks a little. âI think about you constantly,â Jungkook whispers, his confession carrying a soft hopelessness through the phone.
You sit up straight. âHow much did you drink?â
âHmm, not much,â he answers. âIâm not drunk!â he quickly adds. âJust needed some alcohol to have enough courage to call you.â
âYou drank because of me?â
âYouâve never done this?â
âIâd like to say it wasnât because of you.â
âSo... youâve been thinking about me too?â he asks tentatively.
You close your eyes. âIs this a conversation we should be having?â
Jungkook heaves a defeated sigh. With your eyes closed, you can almost picture him standing outside, the chill of the night air mixing with his feelings of loneliness. Maybe heâs pacing, or just staring into the distance, eyes weary with a faint trace of frustration mixed with vulnerability etched on his face.
âYou can hang up if you want. I just hoped we could talk a bit. Iâve been â Iâve been feeling lonely and a little sad, and I couldnât get you out of my head,â he babbles. âIâm sorry if you donât wanna talk.â
You wish you could be cruel â could be a cynic and just hang up. But you canât. He is tipsy and emotional, and you still love him too much.
âNo, itâs fine.â If only he knew how much youâve been wanting to hear his voice again. âI didnât expect a call like this tonight, thatâs all,â you add, pulling your legs up to your chest. âAre you on your way home?â
âYeah. Iâll be there soon.â
âYou have the dorm all to yourself?â
âThe dorm? Ah, yes, I was the only one to fly back to Korea. The others stayed in the US.â
You hug your knees with one arm.
âWhy are you still up so late?â Jungkook asks, as if he isnât the one roaming around, tipsy and a bit of a heartbroken mess, in the city in the middle of the night. He does all that and yet worries about you.
âI was just eating.â Your eyes drift to the remnants of food in front of you. âAnd watching a drama.â The big screen is on mute. You hurriedly searched for the remote to turn off the sound once you saw the callerâs name.
âWith your mum?â
âNo, sheâs at the studio. I think sheâs finishing up some songs,â you say. Your mum left sometime in the evening, saying sheâd had a sudden spark of inspiration and needed to go to the company. You bet she wonât come home until 4 a.m. âI couldnât sleep and was craving some tteokbokki, so...â
âFrom the restaurant at Gangnam?â
A soft, hesitant smile blossoms on your face. âThey make it the most delicious.â
He mutters a wistful sound. âI havenât had it in so long.â
Your fingertips gently tap against your knees in a slow rhythm. âYou should definitely have it before you leave again.â
âWith you?â Just two words and yet theyâre filled with so much innocent hope.
Your fingers halt.
âOh?â
âWould you not want to see me?â
âIâm not sure if we should.â
âBut do you want to?â Heâs met with silence from your side. âYou were one of the reasons I really wanted to come back to Korea.â
âBut what if I donât want to meet up?â
âThen donât open the door.â
âI donât...What door?â
âYour door,â he answers conversationally.
You hurriedly scramble to your feet and walk to the door. âYouâre here?â The screen on the intercom shows Jungkook, holding up his phone against his ear and patiently waiting.
âYou watching me?â Jungkook teases, playfully cocking his head to the side as he stares directly into the camera.
âOh.â You take shy step back. Blood rushes to your cheeks.
âOpen the door for me? Please?â
You donât think itâs a good idea to let Jungkook in. But his doe eyes. His pleading doe eyes. They do it for you.
You buzz him in and, while you wait for him, you try to calm your racing heart.
When the elevator doors open and Jungkook steps out, youâre struck by the sight of him after months apart. You take in every detail: his tousled hair, his tired but still striking eyes, the way the light catches the contours of his face. He looks so handsome, so achingly familiar. Youâre drinking him in with your eyes, unable to believe heâs actually here.
âI thought you were heading to the dorm,â you say as Jungkook steps out of the elevator.
âI didnât say that.â A pout graces his face.
He said he was heading home.
âI missed you,â Jungkook says, and suddenly you become awfully aware of the situation unfolding before you. You have to blink twice to make sure youâre not just picturing a hologram of Jungkook in your apartment. This time, he is real. Not a figment of your imagination.
âMe too,â you admit with a heavy heart.
A lopsided, sorrowful grin appears on his mouth. âCanât bring yourself to say it back?â
âJungkook, you-â You shake your head, sighing as your scramble for words. âYou shouldnât even be here.â
Itâs the middle of the night, and upon answering a call from Jungkook, he stands right in front of you â just like in the dreams you secretly have at night when youâre feeling lonely again. It shouldnât be this easy. It really shouldnât be this easy for him to say these things and fall back into a natural pattern with you when youâve been crying yourself to sleep at night, wishing your love for him would die.
And yet, here you are, with dangerous words at the tip of your tongue, barely resisting the intense urge of your heart to scream how much it has been wanting him back.
âBut letâs not â let's not just stand here.â You point to the slippers next to him. âTake off your shoes and Iâll...I dunno, put on a movie?â You go back into the living room as Jungkook hangs up his coat and follows you.
âOh, that looks delicious,â Jungkook exclaims when he spots the leftover tteokbokki on the coffee table.
âI can heat it up for you, if you want,â you offer. Judging by the way his tongue wets his bottom lip, itâs clear heâd appreciate that.
Jungkook trails behind you into the kitchen.
âSo, watchu been up to?â He leans his forearms on the counter, watching you from across the island as you put the tteokbokki into the microwave.
Heâs been in this kitchen countless times before. Heâs made you tea when you were sick, prepared hot chocolate when you needed comfort, and knew exactly where to find the snack stash for movie nights. Heâs even prepared breakfast for you and your mum on some mornings. But tonight, he canât shake the feeling of being a stranger here. The memories of those moments feel distant, like a blurry movie he watched when he was too young to fully remember, leaving him with only a vague sense of familiarity.
âJust, you know, studying, working. The usual.â You turn to him, mimicking his position on the other side of the counter.
âSo much on your plate that you couldnât reply to my messages?â
His gaze is intense and shameless, and you look away.
âI donât think itâs a good idea to reply to messages sent by your ex.â You turn around, leaning your back against the counter. âWhat am I supposed to text back when you tell me that you miss me?â
âHey, just last week I asked how you were doing. You couldâve replied to that one.â You can sense the sulkiness in his voice, mingled with a touch of light-heartedness, but you donât turn to face him.
Jungkook closes the distance between you.
âYou donât want me in your life anymore? Like, at all?â
Your engulfed by his scent as he stands next to you, struggling to form a proper answer as you hesitantly peer into his face.
The microwave dings, and you breathe again.
âWhen was the last time you had this?â You place the plate in front of him and hand him the chopsticks.
âItâs been a few months. Before the tour started, I was dieting, so, maybe 5 months?â Jungkook doesnât notice the roll of your eyes when he mentions dieting, his attention focused on the hot tteokbokki between his chopsticks. âMhmmm.â He closes his eyes tightly, tipping his head back as he tastes the food on his tongue. âSo good.â
âFeels good to have a bit of home again before you leave?â
Jungkook nods vigorously, his eyebrows scrunched up as he eats more.
You find yourself smiling, only realising it when Jungkook mirrors your grin. A giddy thrill and a soft ache twist together inside you like a secret exposed to the light. Unable to bear the eye contact, you look away, hiding your smile by biting your bottom lip.
You notice Jungkook offering you a piece of tteokbokki in your peripheral vision. âNo, thanks. Iâm really full. I had a lot.â You rub your belly.
âYou always used to steal bites of mine, even when you were full.â
âI used to steal your dessert. Not dinner,â you correct him. âI can never have enough dessert.â You canât help the small laugh that escapes you. âBut that was when things were... different.â
Jungkookâs playful expression fades slightly. He chews slowly, contemplating your words. âDoes it have to be that different?â
The delicate confession that hangs heavily in the air.
The warmth in your chest tightens, and youâre reminded again. Reminded of the reality youâve both been trying to avoid â more so you than Jungkook.
âMaybe it does,â you reply, the small, almost imperceptible nod you give him almost. âThings change, people change.â
The weight of your words settles over both of you like a cold shadow.
Jungkookâs eyes search yours, as if trying to find a crack in the wall youâve put up. âBut what if some things donât have to change? What if...some things are worth holding on to?â
So much longing and regret in his words, his eyes, his heart â he is blue everywhere.
âItâs not that simple, Jungkook.â The ache in your voice betrays the calm youâre trying to maintain. âWe canât just go back to how things were.â
He steps closer, and his familiar scent surrounds you again, making it so hard to act rationally when so many past memories swirl in your mind.
âI know we canât go back. But I donât want to lose you completely. Canât we find a way to be something else? Something that works?â
The idea of keeping him in your life, even in a different way, tugs at you, but you know the danger in that. You know how easily the lines could blur again, how much harder it would be to protect your heart.
That reminds you, there are still pieces of Jungkook left in your room; t-shirts and sweatshirts scattered in your wardrobe.
Taking a deep breath, you push off the counter. âBefore I forget, there are still some of your things in my bedroom.â
You catch the sudden confusion in Jungkookâs eyes, but you donât let it deter you as you pad into your room.
âItâs just a few of your shirts. Iâve been meaning to give them back to you, but uh, I wasnât sure how to approach you because I didnât want to contact you, but anyways.â You grab the neatly folded pile of clothes from the back of your wardrobe. âNow youâre here, so.â You hold the pile out to him.
He regards his forgotten clothes with a sight raise of his brow. His hands donât move to take them.
âTheyâre old anyway,â he says. âI donât need them. Just throw them out.â
You hesitate, holding the pile tightly.
You wonât throw them out. He knows that too.
âFine,â you shrug nonchalantly, storing his clothes back into your wardrobe. They sit there, a constant reminder that he still has a place in your life, even when he shouldnât. Haunting every little corner that still belongs to him. But youâre just as guilty, allowing him to do so.
When you turn around again, you see the loaded expression on his face, and your immediate response is to ignore it â redirect his attention before he starts digging up old feelings, past memories, and forgotten promises that will only make you doubt the walls youâve tried to put between you.
âI think you still have some tteokbokki left-â
â___.â Jungkook interrupts you, grabbing your hand. You feel the warmth of his skin, and youâre mortified and comforted at the same time. âI thought we would always speak comfortably with each other. No hiding, no walls â just the truth.â
âThat was before the breakup,â you counter, barely able to hold his gaze. âThere is no we anymore.â
âHow can you say that when our whole lives have been intertwined? We canât just pretend it all meant nothing, erase everything.â
âBeing with me is an inconvenience for you, Jungkook.â
âIs that why you broke up?â
Ah, right. You never told him the real reason.
The night when you broke up with Jungkook was a bit chaotic.
You hadnât planned on ending the relationship. Threads of worry had plagued you for some time, and you had been considering breaking up with him, but you never had the courage. You loved him, still do. And losing the one person youâve trusted since childhood was terrifying.
But that night, while waiting for Jungkook at your favourite convenience store, you grew impatient. Waited for so long that you started eating ramyeon without him. As you sat by the window, gazing at the night sky, you decided that tonight you would break up.
Jungkook had always been busy, and you never minded it. Didnât even mind it as you were eating ramyeon while pondering how to tell Jungkook. But Jungkook had so many things on his plate, so many worries, and you didnât want to make his life more complicated by being his girlfriend. He tried so hard to always respond to your texts, tried to call at reasonable times instead of the middle of the night after practise, and promised to meet you at times other than when the sun had long fallen.
Jungkook needed to prioritise things that were more important to him.
And knowing his selfish tendencies, you needed to help him a little.
âPart of it, yeah,â you answer.
Jungkook doesnât hesitate when he says, âYouâre worth the inconvenience.â
You think he holds your hand a little tighter, but maybe you imagined it.
âIâve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and that night, I â I didnât know if I would ever feel okay again.â
Jungkook was so used to you giving in. Was so selfishly used to having you whenever he wanted, that once you finally pulled away, his world had lost its gravitational pull. Suddenly, he was left adrift, circling aimlessly like a planet that had lost its orbit.
âI still donât know. I miss you every night and keep wondering how to move on, but Iâm not sure if that will ever happen. How do you move on from a love like ours?â
Heâs known you for almost his entire life, and having you completely erased from his life felt like something he could never get over. Jungkook went a little insane. Everyone around him noticed his change in behaviour, but he pretended to be clueless, perhaps as a foolish act of hoping that you might return, change your mind, want him again, and never leave. Itâs the hopeless romantic in Jungkook that makes him cling to shreds of hope for a better ending â a happy ending.
And maybe itâs not so hopeless after all, he thinks, as he watches your eyes sparkle with gentle love when you meet his gaze.
âHave you never thought about calling me?â he asks. âNever wanted to text back?â
âI almost do every night.â
âWhat makes you hesitate?â Jungkook steps closer, and itâs so dangerous, but you canât keep pretending you donât want him.
Which is why you whisper your next words, staring down at the small space retaining between your bodies.
âBecause I know that Iâd forgive and not fight.â You want to force your eyes back to him, but canât. âItâs not like I wanted to break up. I just did it because I thought it was the wisest decision for us.â
â___.â Itâs just a soft murmur of your name, slipping off his tongue with more love than it should, and it sends your heart fluttering far too easily. His voice draws your gaze up to him, and youâre met with eyes brimming with pure yearning and raw adoration. You never forgot how he looked at you, but you did underestimate the intense pull of his gaze â how it stirs something deep within you, even now.
âI thought it was for the better, but...â You trail off, lost in his eyes, forgetting what you were trying to explain and deny. Because what does it matter? How does anything matter when heâs here â when heâs here and not a single bit of his love for you has wavered?
Jungkook cups your cheek with his free hand. It pulls you closer to him. His thumb brushes gently across your skin, and the world outside of this moment blurs into insignificance.
You can feel your resolve crumbling, the walls youâve built around your heart starting to fracture. Itâs terrifying and comforting all at once, the way heâs always had this power over you â the way he can unravel you with just a look, a touch, a simple word.
âI donât want to let you go,â Jungkook says, his voice tight with emotion. His hand remains on your cheek, as if heâs afraid youâll slip away if he lets go.
âNeither do I,â you confess, barely believing your own words. But voicing it out loud seems to untangle something within you that had been knotted and confused for so long.
Jungkookâs eyes search yours, making sure he heard you right, that this moment is real and not just another dream heâs afraid of waking up from. His thumb stills on your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his palm spreading across your skin, grounding you, anchoring you.
âIs this okay?â He leans in the slightest bit.
You nod, muttering a small âYeahâ as your gaze lingers on his sparkling eyes, the soft curve of his nose, the tiny mole beneath his lip â everything that reminds you of longing, comfort and the feeling of home.
The moment his mouth presses against yours, you feel a surge of warmth. Itâs tender and soft, his mouth brushing against yours with a mix of hesitance and longing. As the kiss deepens it becomes more fervent, more urgent, as if heâs trying to convey everything heâs been holding back.
Your lips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, and the touch of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. Thereâs a slight pressure as he cups your face, wanting you closer, while his other hand slides down your back, settling on your waist.
âI hope you know that I didnât come here with these intentions.â Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his voice husky. But you guide him towards your bed.
âI know. Itâs okay.â You straddle his lap. âYou wouldnât be here if I didnât want you to.â
Jungkookâs hands are eager and exploratory, skimming over your shoulders, your back, and down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as he breathes in deeply.
âYou donât know how much I missed you,â he mumbles, nose tickling your neck as he snuggles closer to you. âYou missed me too, right?â he speaks with an innocent pout on his lips that you donât even need to see â you know itâs there.
âOf course I did. Why would you think otherwise?â You run your fingers through his silky hair, which is a comfort for both you and him.
âI think I just need to hear you say it.â
He draws back, and a soft smile touches your lips as you see the achingly tortured expression contorting his face â traces of love and relief at having you so close, right where he wants you.
âI missed you.â You keep your eyes on him.
âAgain,â he urges softly.
âI missed you.â
Your fingers gently curl around his face.
Jungkookâs lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. His forehead falls against yours as your words sink into him, straight to his heart.
âOne more time? Please?â
A giggle slips out of you. âI missed you, Jungkook.â
Your laugh dies in your throat when he crashes his lips against yours, more forceful and passionate this time, pulling you so close to him, you feel everything.
Your hips move on their own, instinctively grinding against his lap. Heâs hard and the bulge is right where youâre craving him the most. You kiss turns sloppy and needy and itâs filled with heavy breathing.
Jungkookâs hands are all over you. His touches leave tingling sparks everywhere. Youâve gone months without him, and every little brush of his finger makes you lose your mind. Especially when his hand dips into the front of your tiny shorts, lightly grazing the pad of his finger against your panties and making you twitch when he brushes over your clit. You break the kiss, inhaling sharply.
âI wanna make you feel good.â His words are hushed, a slight tremor tinging his voice. His fingers disappear into your panties, rubbing his middle finger along your folds and spreading your wetness. Jungkook is tender as he moves his finger, and you wish you could see him playing with you, watch him be so soft with you because he loves treating you with delicate care, and you love feeling like youâre everything to him.
Your hips buck as he circles your aching clit. You start whine softly as Jungkook applies a little more pressure, his steady, deliberate movements intensifying the sensations as he continues to rub your sensitive spot.
âYou like it?â His gaze fixed intently on your reactions to his touches. His doe eyes drink up every nuance of your face and body â each twitch, shudder, and breath. His expression brightens with a trace of satisfaction.
âFeels good,â you reply shakily.
He has you making his fingers all sticky and wet. As Jungkook slowly teases your hole, drawing tiny circles and ever so slightly dipping the tip of his finger inside, your eyes close and your breath catches while you anticipate the familiar stretch of his finger.
Jungkook slides two fingers inside you, and your brows furrow as you feel them burying deep within your pussy. He moves them slowly, each stroke eliciting soft, breathy moans from you. The gradual, teasing rhythm amplifies your pleasure, and with each tender push, your senses heighten, making you ache for more.
âMove your finger like â oh. Thatâs right. Donât stop, please.â
His fingers brush against your sweet spot continuously, making you grip his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you try to anchor yourself and try to tame the soft trembles of your body as the pleasure reaches you everywhere.
Jungkook holds you close to him by having his hand placed firmly on the small of your back. He keeps you perched on his lap while you lose yourself in the feeling.
As the pleasure builds, you find yourself melting into him, whimpering his name in a gentle hush. The soft sounds of your voice blends with the rhythmic movements of his fingers.
Jungkook feels you tightening around him. He doesnât increase his pace but keeps his steady pattern going, exactly how he knows you like it. You hide your face on his shoulder, overwhelmed by the fast-approaching high. Your muffled noises sharply contrasting with the squelching sounds coming your shorts.
âLet me see you,â Jungkook gently requests, tugging gingerly at your shirt to draw you back. Itâs just a delicate tug, but itâs enough to pull you away from him. Youâre too immersed by the intense feelings enveloping you to fully respond.
He catches the exact moment when your moan gets caught in your throat, your lashes flutter shut, and the sweetest glow settles on your face as you reach your climax.
He doesnât tease you, instead, he lets you revel in the wave of euphoria that pulses through you, your thighs quivering as you gradually come down from your high. As our breath steadies, your foreheads touch, and you exhale heavily through your nose, tickling Jungkookâs face.
He smiles. His eyes reflect a deep satisfaction, because youâre happy and thatâs enough.
Jungkookâs hands travel to your sides and he slowly strokes his palms up and down. Your body is warm and shaky and he wants to hold you forever.
âIs it okay that I want more?â
You nod, kiss him, probably a little deliriously, answering, âI want it just as much.â
Your hand glides under his sweater, fingers tracing the contours of his toned stomach. Jungkook wastes no a time pulling the sweater over his head, tossing it carelessly behind you. He helps you shimmy out of your shorts, discarding your clothes in a hasty rush, stealing giggly kisses between each movement, because you need to feel. He playfully comments on how cute your panties are. His finger lazily skims over the little pink ribbon before the material sinks slips down your legs and pools around your feet in a small heap. You giggle shyly.
Just as you want to sink onto your knees, Jungkook grabs you by the elbows, not letting you.
âWant you on the bed, ___. I need to feel you,â he says, voice strained with desperate need. Jungkook leads you onto the bed, gently laying you down. Your head sinks into the soft pillows. He spreads your legs, settling himself comfortably between them.
Your hair is fanned around your head against the pillow. Jungkook canât help but stare, utterly captivated. He brushes a few strands away from your face, his fingertips lingering as if memorising every curve. His gaze holds a quiet affection, mingled with a sense of awe, like he is seeing you for the first time and falling for you all over again.
A curse slips his mouth as she stared down at your bare pussy, glistening and shining just for him, looking so pretty only for his eyes. For a few seconds, he allows himself to rub his tip over your wet folds. Just gentle brushes, nothing more. You donât stop him, letting him play a little.
Jungkook is painfully hard, and he dares to slide his tip further down to tease your hole a little. His stare is fixed downcast while he pokes his cheek with his tongue to distract himself from the urge to push himself all the way as he minimally dips his head inside. Jungkookâs so sensitive, he thinks he could cum like this. Heâd go insane if he slipped his cock into without protection. Heâs let his mind wander to this fantasy a few times and he so desperately wants to feel all of you with no barrier, especially after not having you for so long, but you both have to be careful.
Someday, when youâre older, Jungkook thinks. When he can love you endlessly without always having to consider the consequences.
âJungkook.â You pull him back to reality, and a faint pink flush colours his face.
He bends over and opens your nightstand drawer, searching for a condom. His fingers brush against several plastic foil packages, and he pauses, lost in thought. He thinks back to the last time he was over at yours. How many were left in the drawer then? Is his mind playing tricks on him, or were there more condoms the last time he was here?
While Jungkookâs mind drifts to you every night his head falls against the pillow in a different city each night â have you been letting other boys warm your bed?
You say his name again, forcing him out of his racing thoughts once more, this time with a note of impatience.
Jungkook tears open the wrapper, tosses it away along with his doubts, and focuses on you again. You chose him, and for now, thatâs all that matters to him.
He rolls it down his length. Your eyes fixate on the slow connection of your bodies. Once heâs fully inside, a shaky whimper escapes your throat, trembling as it leaves you. Jungkook begins to move his hips with deliberate thrusts, and your head rolls back, eyes drifting to the ceiling as Jungkook finds his pace.
âYouâre so pretty.â His eyes roam over your naked figure, so much adoration and maybe a hint of obsession hiding in them. The white covers beneath you are messy and chaotic, and you lie on top of them like a delicate masterpiece, a striking contrast to the chaos of the bed. The soft light casts a warm glow on your skin, highlighting every curve and contour. The soft swells of your boobs move with every thrust and he enjoys the sight of it.
You grow a little shy beneath his intense gaze. You turn your head and cover your face with your arm.
Jungkook lowers himself, clicking his tongue as he gently pulls your arm away. âDonât.â His grip is firm on your wrist and he holds it against the covers, preventing you from hiding again. However, his hold on your chin is careful as he guides your gaze back to him. Fingers slightly caressing your skin. âI love everything about you, baby.â His words coax a small smile from you, which he acknowledges with an approving nod and a smile of his own. âYou donât need to hide from me.â
âItâs just been a while.â You bite your lip. The shyness still lingers, like spotting your crush in a crowded room and instinctively hiding, feeling all giddy inside.
Jungkook slows a little, buried so deep inside you, but his movements are precise, hitting the spot that makes your tummy clench.
âI know,â he says softly, tracing his thumb over your lip to free it from your clenched teeth. He plants a little kiss on your mouth, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip to soothe the ache youâve caused yourself. âI donât think Iâll last long,â Jungkook admits as his round nose brushes your cheek. Youâre so wet and snug around him that he has to focus intently to keep from coming right away. Youâre too good, too pretty, occupying every corner of his mind. âMissed you so much. You donât even know.â
Jungkookâs head falls into the crook of your shoulder. His moans grow a little louder as he moves faster again. He canât help himself. Feels too good. You wrap your legs around him, allowing him to bury himself even deeper. You pull him closer, throwing your arms around him to have him as close to you as possible while Jungkook repeatedly tells you how much he has missed you and loves you, how he never wants to let go of you and keep you to himself forever. How you are meant for him just as much he is meant for you.
Jungkook sneaks one hand between your bodies and grasps your breast. Keeps a firm squeeze around your flesh while your bed rhythmically hits the wall. All the tender murmurs and quiet gasps of your love had been missing from your room for so long that you began to doubt if Jungkook would ever again fill your bed with his warmth and whispers.
You feel the heat rising on your skin, growing with each passing second, and you can sense it on Jungkookâs body too. His back is hot, slightly slick with a sheen of sweat, and you canât resist digging your nails into his muscled shoulders, leaving chaotic, frantic lines across his skin. A whine, which you try to suppress, tumbles from your lips as the tingling sensation spreads through you.
Jungkook pulls back, his movements weary yet determined, and peers at you through heavy-lidded eyes.
âJungkook,â you mumble weakly, and he nods, because he knows.
With a gentle but firm motion, Jungkook shifts, guiding you both onto your sides. He slips an arm beneath your waist, holding you close to his chest as he continues to move inside you. The new position allows him to thrust deeper, and you gasp. His other hand slides down your thigh, hitching your leg over his hip to open you up further.
The intimacy of the position, with your bodies so close and intertwined, makes everything feel more intense, more personal. As you move together, your eyes lock. You see in his eyes the reflection of your own emotions, a mirror of longing, affection.
Tears begin to well up in your eyes, not just from the overwhelming pleasure, but from the sheer depth of the moment, the intimacy of it all, and how much youâve missed him.
He notices the tears glistening in your eyes. âBaby,â he breathes. âAre those tears for me?â
âIâve missed you so much.â
âIâm not letting you leave me again.â Itâs a promise wrapped in desire. âThatâll never happen again.â
His hand on your waist grips you tighter, and his thrusts become more urgent until youâre both teetering on the edge.
Jungkookâs hips stutter as he loses control, and with one final, deep thrust, heâs all the way inside you, spilling into the condom with a low groan. At the same time, you reach your peak, your body clenching tightly around his length, breathy puffs escaping your lips as the intense tremors take over. Jungkookâs holds you steady through all of it.
He stays inside you, savouring the warmth and closeness for a few more moments before carefully pulling out. He presses soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his breath still uneven as you both come down from the high.
Later, after Jungkook asked if itâs okay to stay â just as you had been plagued by the thought that he might want to leave, and sighed in relief upon realising you were on the same page, lovesick and obsessed after finding each other again â and after he asked if he could borrow one of his old t-shirts and you giggled, saying they are his anyway (they are more yours than his and you both know it), youâre now cuddled up in bed with your head on his chest, right on top of his heart where you belong.
âForgot how comfy your bed is.â He nuzzles deeper into the mattress, wriggling beneath you.
âYou should visit more often, then.â
Jungkook sniffs a surprised laugh at your flirty remark.
âI should, huh?â He brushes his knuckles over your back. âAfter the tour, Iâll make sure to drop by as often as possible,â he says. âSo much that you might get sick of me.â
You smile. Banter and flirt and giggle with him a bit more before you both drift off to sleep.
But you wonder, every time your eyes flutter open in the dark, is it actually this easy to fall back into normality?
Pretend the last few months didnât happen and continue as you had never been apart?
Questions swirl in your head all night long, but the answer to your doubts lies right beside you. Unlike you, he isnât awake, grappling with whatâs right and wrong â heâs softly sleeping, peacefully unconscious of your turmoil.
It makes you think, is it really this simple and youâre just too much? Or is it all a mess, and youâre the only one trying to make sense of it?
Maybe you had it all wrong.
And you wonder, the next morning, are you really that surprised to find the spot next to you empty?
#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook#bts smut#bts x reader#bts scenario#bts fanfiction
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hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life đ
tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. âĄ
â we need to talk
pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at allâsometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer đ€·đ»ââïž) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3
Seungcheol is incensed.
What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?
Who the fuck had invited you?
He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernonâjust needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.
But he canât see through the sea of people. Theyâre everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could justâ
Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. âSoonyoung!â he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. âHey, have you seen Vernon?â
Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, âDunno, hyung. Think heâs upstairs.â
Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. âGo find Jeonghan. Heâs on babysitting duty and youâre already fucked.â
âIâm fine,â Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.
Seungcheol scoffs. âBro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.â
As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what heâll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.
And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.
Hates that heâs still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and heâs putty in your hands. Hates that youâre the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, itâs proud. Heâs rich, heâs good-looking, heâs pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuckâs sakeâhe should not be hung up on a girl.
But heâd been doomed from the beginning. Ever since youâd been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, heâd been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.
And fuck if you didnât know it, too.
So, itâs a game now. A lifetimeâs worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. Theyâd nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldnât figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldnât even address by name, but when heâd approached you at a party and youâd immediately told him to go fuck himself, heâd figured it out pretty quick.
Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking youâd slept together wouldnât be complete social suicide, and heâd owe you a favor youâd keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.
Which hadnât taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasnât long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.
That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew itâd be impossible to let you go.
Short of outright saying the words, heâd all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, youâd all but laughed in his face.
Right.
Of course.
That was to be expected.
So, youâd continued your⊠well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheolâs initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need aroseâone who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didnât pressure you.
But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If heâs going to endure an entire party with you, heâs not going to do it sober.
He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernonâs door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.
And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because heâs yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, âLadies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,â as if heâs speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesnât react, he awkwardly tacks on, âHi, hyung. Iâm assuming sheâs here.â
Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone whoâs about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. âYeah.â Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon canât see the sheen of sweat.
âYou looking for somethinïżœïżœ specific?â he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. âLike, is this an Iâm about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesnât actually like me visit?â
The words come like a reflex. âFuck you,â he seethes. Vernonâs not wrong, per se, but he didnât have to go and just⊠say it like that.
Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol canât tell if heâs actually dressed for the party or not. âGonna guess itâs the second one, then.â
Seungcheol scoffs. âWell, itâs not,â he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that heâs just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.
And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasnât brought him anything but more painâallowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangibleâand itâs time to let it go.
You donât want more.
You donât want the label and the relationship.
You donât want him.
He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when youâd first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts youâve shared and the liquor from all the parties youâd snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones thatâd coat his tongue when heâd kiss down your neckâthe same notes that stain his bedsheets.
Mostly, itâs the pitying look Vernonâs giving him that hurts the most. Heâs above pity. Doesnât need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.
âGive me whatever youâve got.â
Vernonâs face quickly morphs into surprised concern. âUh, Iâm not sure thatâs a good idea. I mean, Iâve got some pretty heavy shit here.â
Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enoughânow he wants to be patronizing? âThen give me whatever the fuck you think I need,â he snaps. âI donât care. I donât have time for this shit.â
âWell, you definitely need to chill,â Vernon mumbles. âYou want some dabs?â
âNo. SomethingâŠâ The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and thatâs not true. âElse,â he finally finishes.
Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. âYour dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, soâŠâ He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. âYou want a bump?â
Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernonâs fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. âHow much do I owe you?â
Vernon wrinkles his nose. âNah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but youâre a real piece of shit when youâre like this.â
The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loadedâhe can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very muchâbut heâs not like anything. âIâm sorry?â
True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. âIâll put it on your tab, hyung,â he says in a way that implies heâs not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.
Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyuâs dick looks like itâs halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle
Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course itâs Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since youâd made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and youâd gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.
Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) Iâm busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you donât want to take care of another manâs baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight
Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow heâd forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isnât stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.
For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesnât bother to turn on the light. Heâs not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because heâs not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also canât appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.
Especially especially over a girl who doesnât even want him like that.
But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Canât bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Canât drag his t-shirt over his head. Canât bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyuâs hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.
Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?
Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?
Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?
God, heâs so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if heâd just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldnât have devolved into⊠this. Youâd always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.
Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, youâre a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off
He canât go down there. Not because heâs a coward, but because heâs barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he canât go downstairs right now because he knows heâll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He shouldâve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride wonât let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you thatâs not him.
Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. Heâs a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool whoâd tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.
You (23:41) Something wrong?
Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheolâs gameâone heâd perfected years ago, the one where heâs coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But youâd taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.
Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?
But just because thereâs now a player two doesnât mean heâs doomed to lose. He knows how you look when youâre on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when youâre begging to cum and stuttering out his name like youâre singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after heâs fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesnât know shit.
Seungcheol knows heâs the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.
And god does it kill him.
You (23:44) Donât act stupid
A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheolâs game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one youâre seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasnât come to find you yet.
You (23:44) Mingyu invited me
Oh, youâre goodâknow just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.
Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Donât have to look for you to know youâre upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes
You donât reply immediately. Itâs just long enough for Seungcheolâs brain to conjure up something indecentâthe way youâll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps thatâll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyuâs face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheolâs bed, when he realizes heâs not going to have you.
You (23:56) Itâd be pretty rude to leave my date, donât you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself
Seungcheol doesnât play games; doesnât compete because he has no competition. Heâs always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so heâs wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesnât look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever youâre concerned.
âAh, if it isnât our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.â
Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. âFuck off, Jeonghan.â
The man in question laughsâthe annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheolâs nervesâand hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. âWell, judging from your attitude, and the fact youâre barely hiding that boner youâve got, you clearly didnât spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriendâs about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?â
Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but heâs not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whateverâs in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyuâs chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth heâs whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyuâs moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.
Another chuckle from the demon beside him. âStop fucking laughing,â Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. âFuck this. Iâm going back upstairs. Make sure everyoneâs out of here by three. Iâm not paying for another noise citation.â
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. âIâm absolutely not going to do that.â He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheolâs hand. âTake this and think of me when youâre crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.â
âWhy do you do this?â Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghanâs shoulder roughly. âYou never know when to fucking quit.â
Another streak of white-blond. âHey, no fighting!â Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.
This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasnât even broken a sweat. âAw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?â he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheolâs scowl as he fixes himself a drink. âYou know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,â Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if heâs telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.
âWhatâs her excuse, then?â Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesnât like it, Joshuaâs right. This is exactly the kind of behavior heâd expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.
Joshua cocks an eyebrow. âShe doesnât need an excuse, Cheol. Sheâs not your girl.â
Even though itâs a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; canât be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Canât be possessive and spiteful. You donât want him. Everyone knows you donât want him, so thatâs all there is to it. Maybe youâll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.
He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbowâgentle enough that it doesnât hurt but firm enough to send a messageâand says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
As he guides you to his room, he doesnât think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesnât think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesnât think about whoâll have you after. Doesnât bother to wonder if youâve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times heâd walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because itâs the last time. Whatever happens once itâs over is out of his control.
Perhaps thatâs what itâd always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove heâs more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, heâd wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. Youâd always been the oppositeâhis perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldnât, and thatâs where the switch flipped.
Someone like you isnât meant to be controlled.
What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.
The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesnât meet your eye as he says, âYou got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?â Itâs not a tone he usually takes. Usually heâs dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesnât miss the way your breath hitches. âI asked you a question.â
âSeungcheolââ
He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until youâre nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if youâre expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. âWhatâs so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyuâs dick so bad youâve gone dumb all of a sudden?â
You gasp. âNo.â
âNo what?â Seungcheol chides. âNo, youâre not done being a brat? Or no, you werenât just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?â He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.
âI wasnâtââ
A low, mocking chuckle. âYou were, baby.â Sounds condescending; speaks to you like youâre a stupid child. Heâs so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. âTake your clothes off. This is the last time Iâm gonna fuck you and Iâm not going to ask twice.â
Now you truly look caught off-guard. âWhat?â Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. âWhat do you mean the last time?â
Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. âShit. Youâre really testing my patience, you know.â Youâre still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if heâs just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. âI believe I told you to strip.â
Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. Itâs clear youâre trying to work out what heâs playing atâif this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means itâbut youâre not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.
âThatâs it,â he praises once youâre left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. âLook at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet thatâs why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?â He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since heâd dragged you up here. âGet on your knees. Iâm getting tired of repeating myself.â
Itâs not an unfamiliar sightâas it is, you usually leave Seungcheolâs room with bruised knees on a good nightâbut it settles differently in his gut this time. Because heâd dared a glance at you once and knows he canât do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.
All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that heâll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. Heâs never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.
But heâs not going to dwell. Heâs going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then heâs going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until thereâs only an inch of space between you. Heâs going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasnât touched you. Heâs going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they canât touch him. Then heâs going to sayâ
âBeg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.â
Thereâs a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesnât talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If heâd never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?
Heâs half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.
âIâm going soft,â he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. âYou have one fucking job and you canât even do that properly? Whoâs going to want a dumb little whore that canât follow simple instructions?â
He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if heâs gone too far before deciding he doesnât care if he has. Itâs the last time, anyway, so itâs not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.
Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. âDid you make that other girl beg for you?â
Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. âIs that what this is about? Youâre still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?â He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. âAre you jealous?â
âNo,â you answer simply, âIâm just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.â
Seungcheolâs hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He shouldâve known. Shouldnât have thought something like this would work on you, that youâd like it, and heâs halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, âAnswer the question.â
âWhat?â
You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. âDid you make her beg for you?â
Seungcheolâs brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. âWhat did you make her beg for, Cheol?â
âToâto to-touch me.â
You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheolâs hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. âTouch you how? Like this?â
âYeahâfuck, yes, like this.â
âDid she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?â Your hand leaves Seungcheolâs only to collect the precum at his tip. âDonât get all shy now, Cheolie.â You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. âWas she a good girl for you?â
You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. âYeah,â he finally says, word cracking in the middle. âBoring, though. Not likeânot like you.â
âNo one is like me,â you admonish. âI couldâve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.â
âNot an idiot,â Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. Heâs playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. âNo-nothing comes for free with you.â
All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. âMm, thatâs true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?â Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. âDid you make her beg to suck your cock?â
Truth be told, Seungcheol canât remember much of anything right now. Heâs perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the roomâeyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didnât mouth off to him the way you always doâ
Remembers how unsatisfying itâd been when he came.
Youâve ruined him.
Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesnât mean annoyance doesnât flare in his belly at the reminder. You donât want him. Being so hung up on you isnât doing him any favors, just means heâll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?
He wants you so badly heâs aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, heâ
Loves.
Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, outâand none of it changes a goddamn thing.
Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because itâs hitting him now, but shouldnât he have felt it before? Shouldnât all those âdrive me fuckinâ crazy, canât fucking stand youâs he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?
âCheolââ you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows heâs frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix thisâ
âIâm a liar,â is what he comes up with. Youâre still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. âIâm a liar,â he says again, because if he says it enough youâll believe it. âIâm sorry. Iâmââ
âWhat are you talking about?â
He swallows. Iâm in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you donât feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way youâre looking at himâ
He canât bring himself to say it.
But he canââCan I show you instead?â
Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like itâs the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend thereâs form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.
Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards heâs been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when heâs meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.
He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time heâd kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag heâd hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.
Every second of your time you chose to give himâall victories.
He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. âIâve been so stupid,â he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. âHavenât I?â
âYeah,â you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. âYouâve been a fucking asshole for aâfor a while.â
You canât see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if itâd earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. âWell Iâm trying toâshit, babyâtrying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.â
He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. âYou deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.â
Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you donât see it, donât have something to poke at him with later, but youâre having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped youâd look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until youâre tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. âJust kiss me and weâll call it even.â
This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and heâs content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. Heâs kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.
Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if heâs feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Canât bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.
âLegs over my shoulders.â You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. âGod, youâre so wet.â
âNo shitââ
He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. âHush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.â And then heâs diving in.
He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldnât be satisfied. Canât help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouthâlicks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and youâll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. Youâll tell himâ
âDo it right, Cheol, pleaseââ
And heâll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. âWhat did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?â You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. âI will always take care of you.â
The rest is muscle memory.
The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way heâs so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying thatâs it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until youâre eye-level and youâre licking into his mouth to taste yourself.
Tastes a lot like I love you.
âWant you to ride me,â he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. âWill you do that for me?â
The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Canât stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruiseâsomething deep thatâll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but itâll still be there.
âNeed you, Cheol,â you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadnât realized heâd closed his eyes.
âYou have me,â he answers, but it sounds foreign to his earsâsounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. âAlways have.â
You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. âNo, I havenât,â you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like youâre trying to convince him of it, too. âNot like this.â
I love you.
You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheolâs moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times itâs second nature.
He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.
You roll your hips, taking him deeper like youâve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and arenât afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.
âGoddamn, I love this pussy,â he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he canât touch you. Heâs mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he canât make sense of, and itâs overwhelming, having you like this. Isnât sure how heâs survived this long, but maybe you were right.
Maybe it was never like this before.
Usually heâd take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually heâd have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldnât take it, and heâd rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually heâd be so frenzied and worked up heâd take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.
So, yeahâthis is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesnât know what it is.
This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, âI love you.â
This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and heâll willingly take either.
This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.
âSay it again.â
Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheolâs door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doorsâbut he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.
The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.
He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.
âOkay?â
You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag youâd made fun of before isnât up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines youâd make.
Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. âI really am sorry,â he tells you again, because it doesnât matter if he loves you if he doesnât know how to be good at it.
âI know, Cheol,â comes your easy reply. Youâre tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. âI know you love me, too.â You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. âWho knew itâd only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.â
A wild laugh tumbles out of him. âFuck off.â He can feel your grin.
âYou got a fucked up way of showing it, though.â
He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. âGo easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.â
âAn hour?â you faux-gasp, make like youâre about to leave. âIâm outta here. I know my worth. If Iâm going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.â
He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. âThatâs what I said,â he lies. âTwo hours. You mustâve heard it wrong.â
No, it was never like this.
#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#scoups x reader#scoups smut#seungcheol imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#seungcheol fanfic#scoups fanfic#jewel writes#fic: wntt
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why now? (again &. again chapter excerpt)
ft. yandere! damian wayne x kidnapped! reader
read until the end for an author's note. slight spoilers below.
"damian, tell me, why now?"
why now? you question that to yourself more often than you would want to. why now, instead of the past 13 and a half years when you were a nobody to the family? why now, when you had finally learned to love yourself and let go? why now, when you were finally out of their arms.
"huh...?"
your youngest brother snaps out of his focus on painting a canvas of you, body turning to your direction, curiousity peeping in his eyes. he acts like whatever you had said was bewildering, but you know he knows what your question meant, he doesn't need a repeat of your statement because damian is a no-bullshit brotherâ he simply wants to hear your voice.
his eyes used to look at you with contempt and disgust. you'd rather that than the current gaze of adoration from your brother, who now stares at your form seated on a papasan chair, now his muse for his current painting.
"why now, damian? why is it now that all of you guys are suddenly interested in me?" you repeat; exasperation, disdain, apprehension, all an amalgation of emotions in your tone. if he wants to play stupid, then fine, as long as you get what you want in the end.
you continued mumbling, voice echoing inside the room-turned-atelier. "last i checked, you were intent on murdering me just 'cause you hated me."
it was a quip, truly, a mere tease to his past actions. you didn't know just how much your statement offends him, eyebrowns furrowing as his gaze seems to harden.
it took him seconds to fully register what you had said. you wished you were quick enough to take those seconds to your advantage to bolt out of the room, to run away, but you can't.
"(name)," he sighs, standing up from his chair and easing his way to your seated form. you stand, too, not wanting to back out of what seems to be a forming argument.
he may be shorter than you by an inch or five, but you didn't want to admit just how much smaller he makes you feel.
"i have never told you i hated you." he says, as if it is a matter of fact, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe him, to believe what he wants you to hear. the wringing in your ears provides you the slightest bit of solace, but it wasn't enough to distract you from the words that come out of his mouth, words that contradict his past actions towards you.
"i may have injured you in multiple occasions, said hurtful things beyond redemptionâ for that i am deeply sorry for treating you, my older sibling, that way. but my intent to hurt you in the past never stemmed from hatred. i have never hated you, (name), and i do not have any reason to hate you."
you didn't know whether he was trying to convince you, or himself. you don't know how to feel, you don't want to feel anymore. fuck, you regret even talking to him in the first place. you feel so trapped, like you were in a dead end of a maze. you want to get out but you can't.
you didn't even know just how much you were heaving, tears welling in your eyes as you shiver; all the lies you had fed to yourself now biting you back in the ass.
you expected him to shift the conversation to something else, anything else, or even tell you to sit the fuck down so he could return to painting you.
what you didn't expect was, was his sudden turn of actions as his arms locked you in an embrace, his head nuzzling your chest as he pouts, head turning up, eyes gazing at you fondly like you meant the world. like he never once hurt you with his words and with his actions.
'push him away,' your mind tells you, but your heart clenches, beating erratically as if it was screaming at you to not let go.
you hate this. you hate that you feel conflicted, appalled at yourself for even fucking reciprocating his hug. it scorches you, you hate everything, you hate that you had always wanted this. you hate yourself for tearing up, hand shakily finding itself on his head, running through his hair.
you hate how warm you feel, how your chest aches at his affection, how both your grip on each other were strong as iron. how damian nuzzles deeper into the embrace, how he feels so vulnerable in your arms.
"why now, you ask? you always wanted this, right, (name)?" his words were muffled by your clothes, but you couldn't drown his voice out even if you want to. god, you wish you never asked him anything.
he continued, pretending as if you weren't choking on your own predicament, "dick was always the most experienced, tim the smartest even if i do not wish to admit it..."
he drawls on, listing every traits of your family, relishing in the thumps of your heart.
"âbut you..." he stares at you deeply, fingers dig deep into your skin. but it doesn't scar you, not anymore.
"you are the most emotional... my older sibling, the one who got away. you're finally back..."
damian makes a show of tightening his grip, the space between the two of you near to nonexistent.
you had every strength to push him away, to send him tumbling to the floor unexpectedly. but he was always stronger than you, damian was always one step ahead of you. you're too tired to fight back, you want more. you need for him to let go butâ
he has you in his arms.
you don't know how much time has passed.
"... i miss you and i love you, (name)."
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: 974 words. inspired by this panel. sorry for the delay for the new chapter so i'm giving you guys this erm, i was experiencing massive writer's block and mood swings (and a bit of imposter syndrome when it came to my writing). this is a drabble for a future chapter (not the next one) where they had already kidnapped you. damian is one manipulative fucker and writing contradicting feelings hurts my brain lmao !!
#đ·... yael's works#đ§... yael's misc.#series: again & again#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere damian wayne#yandere damian wayne x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#platonic yandere#theres times where i cant write at all and times where i can write smth good enough đ
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Clean [Loki x Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After a difficult mission, your ex Loki has a revelation. (w/c 1.6k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Mild angst. Pining. Feelings. Smuttish. Loki x Fem Reader. A/N: I'm planning some filthy stuff soon - but for now, we're still in angsty romance era. đ
Loki sat hunched with his back against the bathroom wall, head in his hands. Blood was smeared over the white shirt: his own and not his own. It was ripped in several places, sleeves folded up to the elbows.
âIt wasnât locked,â you said stiffly, fingers tightening around the knob. âWould it have mattered? I expect youâre quite desperate to see me like this.â He tilted his head, voice sharp, eyes tired. âDonât you wish to capture the scene on your device? Surely Rogers would relish a commemoration of my ineptitude.â
Loki had made a scene as the team exited the Quinjet, throwing his ruined suit jacket off the roof of Stark Tower and kicking a fire bucket for good measure. His voice was choked with anger.
âLet me be,â heâd roared after Steve shouted something about medical in his direction. The Captain had turned to the rest of you with a defeated shrug, but your eyes hadn't left Loki's back as he waged a path though the doors and they slammed behind him in a flash of green.
Loki had taken the worst of the heat from the Hydra agents working undercover in downtown Chicago. Heâd been cornered by three of them, and soon a capture order had turned into a triple killâbut not before taking some punishment for his efforts.
âI tried to subdue them humanely,â Loki had muttered afterwards, inspecting a deep gash on his forehead in the Quinjetâs sheen. âThey wouldnât listen to reason.â âHow hard did you try?â Steve had sniped. âWeâre in a pickle now, thanks Laufeyson. A real pickle indeed. Typical.â To that, Loki had said nothing. Heâd refused all clean-up on the way home, sitting in a fury-riddled silence that tainted the re-circulated air.
You took a step over the bathroomâs boundary, and then shrank back.
Relations between you had been frosty since youâd gone your separate ways: to this day you werenât quite sure what had happened. One day, everything was perfect. The nextâit was over. Youâd chalked it up to the god settling in to life on Earth; him realising you werenât the only person on the planet who thought the sun shone from his perfectly formed arseâŠbut that had never felt right. Despite snooping, youâd never got a whiff of him shagging anyone else. Based on your experience with Loki, that was especially odd.
You took a deep breath, crossing the floor and extending a hand. To your surprise, he took it and heaved himself up. Fuck, youâd forgotten how heavy he was; how his forearms bulged when they flexed, how his body felt pressing down on yours as he railed you gently on the bed youâd shared.
Ok, maybe not that last one. You cleared your throat, pulling your hand back. Loki sighed, eyes cast to the floor.
âIâm filthy,â he said with an air of disgust, reflexively running a hand across his waist. Pain rippled across his features.
âYouâre hurt, you need to go toââ âIâm quite well.â âLoki,â you warned. His lashes fluttered up, nailing his gaze to yours. An eyebrow cocked. Feeling your cheeks heat, you turned and switched on the shower. âSteve shouldnât have spoken to you like that earlier,â you said, trying to keep the flurry of nerves from your voice. âYou did what you had to doâtheyâd have killed you.â âPlease,â Loki snorted. âThey would not have killed me. Iâm offended that you would even imply it.â You glanced over your shoulder. Even in his dishevelled state, he was giving every inch the haughty, regal snob that youâd fallen desperately in love with. And that was the problem, wasn't it? It was the only version of him you'd ever been granted.
âThen why are you in such a state?â Lokiâs brow furrowed. âA what?â âWhy are you upset?â âIâm not upset.â âYou were literally sitting on the floor with your head in your hands.â âItâs an Asgardian victory custom.â âLokiâŠâ
His jaw clenched as you leant against the sink and his keen eyes darted over your face. âIâŠtried not to kill them,â he said through gritted teeth. It was the same voice heâd used when the two of you had âthe conversationââyou hadnât heard it since. An icy finger trailed down your spine at the bitterness in his voice as he said, âI failed.â
Understanding blossomed through your mind. You remembered a cold winterâs night, Loki curled naked against your back, confessing his deepest secret while he thought youâd slept. Iâm afraid Iâll never be good, heâd whispered in the dark; that Iâll always be stained with the curse of my past.
You realised the mask of stoicism had slipped from your face at the exact moment Lokiâs expression shifted. His gaze broke, returning to the floor. âYou should leave,â he said. âYouâre not safe with me.â The echo of the last time youâd been alone togetherâthe same words. Does he remember?
Pushing off the sink, you shuffled towards him, cupping his forearm. The grit of dried blood rubbed beneath your fingertips as you squeezed. âYou canât think that. Itâs been yearsâŠâ
Suddenly Lokiâs hands ran up your cheeks, thumbs pressing into your jaw as your back met the wall. Heâd pinned you under the shower, speckles of water hitting off his shoulder and splattering your skin. His eyes searched yours: all fire, and destiny.
âIâll never be free,â he said. His gaze dropped to your lips and back to your eyes. âIâll never be clean.â
You caressed the well-trodden path his buttons made up the front of his shirt. Still beautifully tailored despite the dirt, and sweat, and blood. âNot with that attitude,â you said, and his brows peaked. âEveryone knows your history, Loki. We need you here. We want you here.â âAnd you?â
The shower seemed very loud all of a sudden. Especially me. âYou really have to ask?â You brushed the sides of his shirt apart and Loki swallowed, his eyes closing a heartbeat too long as your fingers lingered on the bruise forming over the flat of his abdomen. âLokiâŠâ you chided, tracing the blossom of indigo across his alabaster skin. âSteve was right, you should be in medical.â He snorted, hands falling by his sides. âIf youâd come five minutes later, it would have been gone.â Fat droplets of water roll over the tips of his cheekbones, streaks of pale skin beneath the dust and dirt of the mission. Youâve never seen him like this. He never let you see anything other than the perfect prince; the unshakeable god. âDoesnât it hurt?â You circled higher on his chest, appreciating the taut skin firm beneath your own. You'd swear you could see the thrum of his heartbeat.
âAlways,â he said sadly, and something in his voice told you he wasnât talking about the injuries. God, I miss this. I miss him. Now, finally, you could admit it to yourself. The weight of the confession slid from your body, circling the drain as Loki shivered, and the dark pools of his pupils spread wider.
Cautiously, your hands ran up his chest, over his shoulders, peeling the soaking shirt from his back and down his arms. It fell with a slop to the shower floor.
âWhat are you doing?â he asked with a faint narrow of his eyes. You licked your lips, unsure of what how to answer. What are you doing? But it was now or never. This kind of vulnerability was a particularly rare ship to dock in Lokiâs harbour.
Running your palms up his neck, he groaned softly as they slid up the sharp prow of his jawline, up the bladed cheekbones and into the slick of his sodden hair. He closed his eyes, a low sigh rattling his chest. For a moment, there was only the patter of water against porcelain.
âShowing you how to be clean again,â you whispered before your lips fastened to his. Lokiâs eyes shot open, one hand slamming to the tiles behind your shoulder to steady himself as you pulled away. Your heart thumped between your ribs.
Oh god, he doesnât want it. Youâve fucked it up. Memories of the longing glances youâd seen painted on his face across the room, the brush of his touch on your arm which lasted a second too long, the anger simmering beneath his skin when he thought youâd moved on. It had all been in your head. The thought was almost too much to bear.
âWhy did you stop?â
Breath caught in your throat as his words soaked through the rising steam; low and smooth. The response fell from your mouth in breathless stages, hyper-focused on the shirt plastered to his skin. âI didnât think you wanted it, Iâm sorry Iââ A soft, disbelieving chuckle rumbled in his throat before he said, âHow could I not want you?â Your eyes rose.
The god was fully soaked now; hair plastered to his neck like ink, shirt and trousers moulded to the sinews and meat of his body like a second skin. The last traces of dirt from his skin were gone, and the water around your feet ran clear. You pulled the back of his neck towards you.
Lokiâs kiss was an eruption of desire, of pain, of need; his palm slipping on the tile behind your head before switching to your waist. It worked over your hip, your breasts, your ass, never staying in one place, never lingering too long. âGods, I missed you, I've missed you,â he murmured wet against your cheek. You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling the sodden top over your head. âSo soon?â A soft smile curled at his mouth. âWeâve wasted enough time, havenât we?â
In answer, Loki ran a finger from the hollow of your neck between your breasts. A chill skated across your skin as your trousers dissolvedâ his too. He pressed his body to yours, warm against the sharp sting of the tiles. Water pooled in the crevice where your skin met, Lokiâs kisses sliding over your lipsâone slipping into the nextâpants of devotion wisping down your throat. He lifted your thigh, manoeuvring himself inside with one, liquid movement. You clasped to his shoulders, nails digging in to his flesh like he might vanish. All you could feel was his body, his presence, his faint moan of relief in your ear.
âNo more living in the past,â you panted. âLoki, promise me.â He tilted his cheek into your wrist, water droplets falling from the ends of his hair to the curve of your breasts below. âA fresh start,â he said quietly, kissing the delicate skin. You groaned as he thrusted gently inside you. âClean,â he panted, âNew.â âTogether,â you said. âTogether,â Loki replied.
And then, among plumes of steam and the slide of bodies and wordless promises, there was no more talking.
Tags in comments â€ïž
#loki x reader#loki x female reader#loki smut#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#loki oneshot#loki imagine#loki x reader smut#loki x you#loki x you smut#loki x yn#loki odinson#loki marvel
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tired eyes
pairing: gojo x reader
wc: 790
warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers
a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)
Gojoâs keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as itâs so late and youâre probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension heâs been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleepâin fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.
Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. âYouâre home,â you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.
Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. âYouâre still up?â
And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. âOf course. Canât really sleep well when Iâm waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?â You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing youâre referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
âWell, as much as I wish you wouldnât stay up just for me, Iâm glad you did,â he murmurs into your mouth.
âMmm,â is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.
And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout youâve ever seen. âYou gonna take it off?â he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.
âNo,â you say softly, and he nearly whines, âyouâre tired. Your eyesââ You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold ââIâm sure they need the rest.â
Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and youâre sure tonight is no different.
âBut I want to see you.â
The corner of your mouth tilts up. âI may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.â
And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. âYou know itâs not the same. I wanna see you.â
You hum, stringing him along like youâre thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. âOkay,â you finally say, âjust a peek, yeah?â Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.
Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. âHi,â he whispers.
And youâre suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. âHi.â You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. âI missed you.â
He flashes you a grin. âAww, no need to miss me too much, you know I canât stay away from you.â
And you both know itâs his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when youâre not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shouldersâwhen there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.
So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. âI know.â
reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x reader fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo angst#gojo x reader angst#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk <3#gojo <3#my writing <3
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€â đ cockwarming lawyer!abby đ 18+
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€daily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post
sheâs tried so hard to focus on her work. focus mainly and solely on a new caseâ a case that she has wanted for months, and has finally been given the all go to take it. have at it. make it hers. but she made the mistake of working on it with you at home. she can smell your fruity perfume from here. the perfume she could spend hours smelling on your neck when sheâs kissing and biting you there. can practically taste the cherry chapstick on your lips. the same one youâve always used. she still remembers the first time you kissed and refused to let you change it. you didnât have work today, so it was your lazy day. lounging around the apartment. catching up on your TV shows. making a new dish you had seen in your cookbook later than evening, if you wished to.
âbaby?â
you hummed from the living roomâ or you said something, she wasnât really sure. she sure as hell wasnât paying any attention if you had spoken, abby was more focused on the way you licked your fingers after each strawberry you picked up from the container, and ate it. moaning at the taste. moans that always had her head spinning, no matter what the occasion was.
âcan you come here? please?â god was she actually already begging? yes. did she care? apparently not. she just needed to feel you. hold you. hell, even look at you.
unbuttoning her suit jacket like she had suddenly gotten hit with a massive heat wave just from watching you, abby heaved out a quiet sigh, and leaned back in her chair. just in time to spot you walking over to her. smiling mischievously and finishing the last strawberry.
âwhatâs up?â came your soft voice. fingers threading through her soft blonde hair, nails scratching comfortingly at her scalp. your body melted into her touch when sheâs wrapping her arms around your legs, and pulling you into her lap. your lips parting quickly with a gasp when you can feel the strap in her pants, that she always insisted on wearing just in case, against your cunt. âabsââÂ
âneed to feel youâ was she drunk? âplease. justââ god she was so weak for you. so weak for everything and anything you did that she would do anything for you. âlet me feel youâ she murmured, her blueâ hooded eyes meeting your slightly wide yet sparkling ones and she couldnât keep her hands in one place when you smiled down at her.Â
âwouldnât that be distracting for you, Miss Anderson?â you truly were a tease, werenât you?
âdonât care, need to feel youâ was all she said, lustfully. horny.Â
her eyes watched you like a hawk. like she always did really. she never wanted to miss anything. first they trailed over the slice of your nose, to the way your lips twitched, almost into a smile at her eagerness of needing you. to your soft eyes that looked at her like she was the only person in the world.
god you were truly such a beauty.Â
if she had spent any more time looking at your face, she would have missed the way you climbed off her lap, grinned at the way she bites down on her lip when you looped your fingers into the thin material of your panties and pulled them down, still maintaining eye contact. you were aware of how much that drove her crazy. âare you sure this wonât distract you? you could never really focus on anything else when i would sit on your cock, babyâ you lifted your shoulders up in a small shrug, biting back a smirk when all abby did was scoff. âokay well, donât blame me if you get none of your work doneâÂ
abby rolled her eyes, and threw her head back slightly. the action had her completely missing you kicking your pantiesâ oblivious to the wet patch on them, to the side, but she didnât miss the way your fingers fumbled with her belt. the sight was enough to always have her losing all remaining cool. especially when youâd sit on your knees, giggle and wink up at her.Â
her breath hitched in her throat when you climbed back on her onto her lap. the shirt you were wearingâ most probably hers, rolled up just slightly and her hands quickly found home on your thighs, stroking your skin with her thumbs slowly. âjustââ
âabigail, if you tell me how to sit on your cock, i will get dressed, go out for dinner alone and leave you here to finish your workâ you warned, squinting your eyes down at her.
âright, mâsorryâ the blonde nodding, a blush coating the apples of her cheeks at your words. what the fuck was going on? how is she the one thatâs shy right now?
those blue eyes flicker to your face when youâre placing one of your hands on her broad shoulders, and for a second abby canât fucking breathe when she turns her head slightly at the perfect time to find you dribbling a thick glob of spit on the tip of the silicone, giggling under your breath and using your other hand to spread it around. âfuckâ her voice suddenly breaking the longer she watched.
her hands were quick to sit higher on your hips, while one of yours gripped her shoulder tightly when youâre running the tip of the silicone through your folds, lips parting with soft gasps, and all abby can do is just fucking stare. watch you rub it back and forth a few times, nudging it against your hole before you chuckle, your eyes flicking up to hers. you were teasing her. you knew how much she loved to see you sinking down on her cock, and you werenât giving her what she has wanted since she got home.
âsorry, baby. you just look really cute when youâre flustered and impatientâ you giggled, placing a kiss right between the crease of her eyebrows, and sinking on her strap slowly. sucking in deep breaths at the stretch.Â
you were going to be the death of her one day.
your face was hot, forehead already starting to trickle with sweat when she whispered soft âitâs okayâ and âtake your timeâ into your ear. her bigger hands ran up and down your thighs, squeezing at your skin gently, and feathered kisses up and down your neck. as much as she needed to just to feel you close, she never rushed you. Â you were right about one thing though, was she going to be able to focus?Â
she was going to have to trust her gut and just take one for the team.
you, on the other hand, were not focused at all. not with how she was shifting around in her fucking chair, her hips accidentally jolting upwards and you were biting down on your lip harshly when the silicone slipped deeper, nudging against your walls. the true question was how were you going to sit here, snuggly keeping her cock warm for the remaining time she had on her work without a single piece of attention?Â
just as she had went to pick up her pen for the 100th time today, abby clenched her jaw tightly at the sudden whines coming from you. you were trying so hard to bury your face in her neck and keep them muffled by her skin, but it was failing miserably. âbaby, i knowââ she murmured, tightening her arm around your waist. âjust want you close. need to feel you. havenât been this close to you in weeks. and mâsorryââ
you werenât making this any easier on her, not with the way you were slowly moving around on her lap, and itâs like she can fucking feel you. the point of the pen hasnât even hit the paper yet and sheâs wanting nothing more than to push all her work onto the floor and make you cum as many times as you want. the way her arm was holding onto you had your brain cloudly, already drunk on the heavy feeling of the pine body wash she had used this morning. âabsââ you whimpered, tightening your arms around her neck, slowly rocking your hips back and forth, and letting out quiet gasped breaths with each movement.
the way you said her name had her reeling, brain going into overdrive, and grip tightening on your body. she didnât understand why she thought this idea would work. having you in her lap, sitting on her cock, looking pretty, and waiting patiently for her to be done, would be the best idea but she just missed you so much. sure, you were in the same home as her, but to her, you felt so far away on that couch and she needed you so close that not even a sheet of paper would fit between you both.
she turns her head and presses a kiss on your cheek, hips bucking up when sheâs trying to get a little more comfortable, and she gritted her teeth when you abruptly nipped and bit at her neck, warning her. your fingers still thread through her hair, tugging and pulling at random strands, trying to distract yourselfâ though that wasnât helping her, for even 30 minutes give or take. already wanting nothing more than her to be done, or at least give your attention some clit. but she wasnât even doing that. âabby, pleaseââ
âi promise i will be done soon, and you will have all my attention, okay?â she tried to compromise, key word tryâ she was trying not to grind her hips up into you, and fuck you like you deserve each time you let out a whimper next to her ear, but she was regretting this entire thing. having your pretty girlfriend warming your cock while trying to work wasnât ever going to end in a good way until you were done with what you were doing. âi need you here, pleaseâ just for a while, and i promise i will give you whatever you wantâ she pleaded, screwing her eyes shut tightly when youâre shifting around on her lap, the back of the strap rubbing her clit.
her words went in one ear and right out the other. you could barely focus on the way her lips moved, let alone focus on what she was saying. you were only thinking about how deep she was, how perfectly the silicone filled you up. you were soaked, no doubt about it, you were sure you were dripping onto her pants, but if you were, neither you or abby mentioned it.
the pen was moving quickly against the paper, finally gained enough composure to start writingâ jesus christ, has it only been a few minutes since she asked you over here? a few minutes that youâve been snuggly sitting on her cock? god. abby was biting back her smirks and stifling back subtle laughs when you suddenly let a out a high-pitched whine, the hand she had on your waist had moved, and slipped under her shirt and gripped one of your tits in her huge hands. pinching, pulling, and rolling your hardened nipples between her fingers.Â
âyouâre doing so good, baby. just sit here looking all pretty for me for a little longerâ she mumbled, slowly grinding her hips up, blue eyes flickering up to your face and found your eyes fluttering closed and sinking your teeth into your lower lip. you were already so far gone that you barely registered the huge grin on her fucking face. âjust keep my cock warm, and you can have whatever you want when iâm done filling this report. Iâll fill you up so good tonight for being a good girl, my good girl, okay?â was she taunting you? moving her hips so slowly, grinding up into you just to tease you, warn you of what was coming later when you finally had all her attention?
âmâyour good girlâ you nodded, pressing your head against her shoulder. drunk and delirious on her. her sweet yet deep and raspy voice. her pine-scented body wash. her hand on your tits, switching between the two so the other wasnât left out. everything about her, and everything she was doingâ fuck, she was only talking to you and lightly touching you, but it was enough to have more slick pooling between your legs and your body melting more into her chest. âmâyour good girlâ you repeated, wrapping your arms around her neck.Â
âyou are, babyâ the blonde hummed, eyebrow quirking up, watching the way youâre slipping your hand down to between your legs, gasping into her neck when your fingers find your clit. whining in protest when abbyâs quick to remove her hand from one of your tits just to grab your hand and pin your arm behind your back. âbe my good girl, yeah?â she growled, clenching her jaw tightly.Â
âi needââ
âi know what you need, and i will give it to you when i am finished. donât make me shove your panties into your mouth to get you to behave, baby. although, i canât do that, youâd fucking love that too muchâ sheâs scoffing, tutting under her breath, and grinding her teeth together when youâre moving your hips again.Â
youâre lifting your head from her shoulder when her fingers grip your chin between them lightly, smirking at the sight of your tongue running over your lips, slowly running it over her thumb. and she sucks in a deep breath when youâre wrapping your lips around her thumb, pulling it onto your mouth and sucking greedily. âyeah, there you go, babyâ she nodded, jaw slack and eyes wide. âimagine itâs my cock, and let me finish up here then you can get the real thingâÂ
still kinda rusty, idk how to feel about this but i missed lawyer!abby đ€đ
#lawyer!abby#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby anderson drabble#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby tlou2#abby the last of us#abby anderson fic
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Jacaerys Velaryon - Reckless Sins
Summary -Â Their inability to see eye to eye often leads to arguments and mutual disdain, frequently escalating into reckless intimacy as both are eager to dominate and assert control, but what happens when, one day, they are caught in the act?
Pairing -Â Jacaerys Velaryon x reader
Warnings -Â Sexual content (smut!!), getting caught in the act, strong language
Word count - 2416
Masterlist for Jacaerys âą House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
"We must act," Jace declared, his voice urgent and eyes burning with intensity.Â
Rhaenyra shot him a stern look, her expression a mask of restrained frustration. The war had ignited fierce disputes within the family, but their bond somehow endured the strain.
"We cannot be hasty," I interjected, siding with Rhaenyra. Jace rolled his eyes, the exasperation evident in his demeanour.
"You always find a way to oppose me," he retorted, his tone dripping with irritation. I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to back down.
"I simply wish to make you see reason," I replied calmly.Â
Rhaenyra sighed heavily, the weight of the day's bickering visibly wearing on her. Without another word, she exited the council room, leaving Jace and me alone in the cavernous space, the tension between us palpable.
As the heavy door closed behind her, Jace turned to face me fully, his expression hardening.Â
"Do you take pleasure in contradicting me at every turn?" he demanded.
I met his gaze steadily. "I take no pleasure in it, Jace but someone must temper your impulsiveness with caution."
His jaw tightened, the muscles working as he struggled to contain his anger. "And you believe you're the one to do that?"
"Yes," I replied firmly. "Because I care about the outcome of this war just as much as you do, and I refuse to see us make reckless decisions that could cost us everything."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unresolved conflict. His eyes bore into mine, sharp and unyielding.
"You're insufferable," he spat, stepping closer, his chest heaving with frustration.
"And you're impossible," I shot back, my breath quickening.
We stood inches apart, the heat between us almost tangible. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Why do you always have to challenge me?"
"Because you need to be challenged," I snapped, stepping even closer until we were nearly touching. "You're too reckless, too impulsive."
"And you're too stubborn," he growled, his breath hot on my face.
The tension reached a boiling point. Without thinking, we lunged at each other, mouths crashing together in a fervent kiss. It was fierce, hungry, fueled by all the pent-up anger and passion we had in us. Our hands roamed urgently, fingers digging into flesh as we battled for dominance.
We stumbled back, knocking over a chair in our frantic embrace. His lips trailed down my neck, and I gasped, pulling him closer.Â
The world outside ceased to exist, there was only the heat of our bodies and the desperate need to consume each other.
His hands slid under my dress, the touch igniting a fire beneath my skin. I arched into him, our movements becoming more frenzied. We tore at each other's clothes, driven by a primal urge that overrode all reason.
His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. "You drive me mad," he breathed.
"Then stop resisting," I whispered, pulling him closer.
In that moment, the line between love and hate blurred, consumed by the inferno of our desire.
He grabbed me by the waist, lifting me onto the council table sweeping away the papers and pawns scattered across it.
Looking down at me with a smirk, he teased me, trailing his tip against my entrance and relishing the effect it had on me.Â
"Stop," I warned, but he only grinned, pushing himself into me. He began thrusting, his hands gripping my hips, moving me in time with his powerful movements.
"Fuck," he groaned, eyes closing as pleasure filled him. "You feel so good, no matter how many times I fuck you," he said, and I moaned softly.
"Jace," his name escaped my lips like a prayer.
"Yeah, that's it," he encouraged, savouring the sounds escaping my mouth as they echoed through the room.Â
His rhythm increased, thrusts turning into relentless pounds, each movement filled with the raw intensity of our conflict and desire.
"Fuck all of them," he muttered, burying his head into my chest. "Fuck the usurper and fuck his kinslayer brother," he continued, his movements becoming sloppy as his rage consumed him.Â
His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging in as he drove deeper, the mix of anger and lust fueling his every motion.
The room filled with the sounds of our passion, the slap of skin against skin, the ragged breaths, and the mingled moans of two people lost in their own storm.
His teeth grazed my neck, sending shivers down my spine as he bit down, marking me. His hand slipped between us, finding that sensitive spot and rubbing circles that sent me spiralling.
"Jace, I'm close," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the chaos of our desire. He took my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him.
"No," he said firmly, and I frowned, frustrated. "I'm not done with you."Â
He pulled out of me as abruptly as he had entered, leaving me whimpering at the sudden loss, a slight ache forming between my legs.
"Asshole," I murmured, and he smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Such a filthy mouth," he mocked, and I rolled my eyes, sitting up.
"Touch yourself," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. I shook my head defiantly and he shrugged, settling into a chair opposite me. He began stroking his cock, never breaking eye contact.
"Do it," he insisted, and I sighed, finally bringing one hand down between my legs and the other to one of my breasts, massaging and pinching periodically.
"That's it," he encouraged, quickening his movements as I threw my head back in pleasure. Our soft moans and groans reverberated through the room as we pleasured ourselves, each sound heightening the intensity.
"Gods," I whimpered, my hips bucked against my hand, my movements becoming frantic as I chased my release. His eyes burned into me, his own pleasure evident in the way his body tensed, his strokes becoming erratic.
The sound of clattering made me look up, and Jace approached me swiftly, grabbing my hand to stop my movements. "Fuck," I cussed, frustration bubbling over as he leaned down to whisper in my ear.
"I never told you to cum," he said, his voice low and commanding. I glanced down at his length, twitching and strained, noting with satisfaction that he hadn't let himself go either.
"That's my job," he growled, thrusting into me again. I sighed at the exquisite feeling of him filling me once more.
"I love it when I piss you off," I said, my fingers tangling in his curly locks.
"You infuriate me," he corrected, his voice a mix of anger and desire.
I laughed loudly, the sound echoing off the walls. "Then why can't you stay away?"
His response was a deep, primal thrust that made me cry out. "Because you're the only one who can match my fire," he said, his pace quickening.
Our bodies moved together with a reckless urgency, every thrust, every touch driven by the volatile mix of our emotions. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer with each powerful motion.Â
"You're impossible," I gasped, arching into him, my nails scraping down his back.
"And you're insufferable," he shot back, but his voice was hoarse, tinged with something deeper.
Our breaths came faster, mingling with the fervent sounds of our passion. His movements became frantic, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. "Jace," I moaned, my body trembling.
"Not yet," he commanded, though his own control was slipping. His rhythm grew erratic, driven by a desperate need. "Together," he growled, his eyes locking onto mine.
With a final, shuddering thrust, we found our release, our cries of pleasure mingling in the heated air
We collapsed together, breathing hard, the weight of what had just happened settling over us. The council room, once a place of strategy and war, had become a battlefield of a different kind, our bodies the only weapons we needed.Â
As our breathing slowed and the sweat cooled on our skin, the reality of our situation returned.
"Clean up your mess," I said, leaning back on my elbows with a smirk. "Before someone walks in and finds the heir face-deep between my legs."
He shot me a look as he began putting his pants back on. "Our mess," he corrected, straightening the chair we had knocked over.
I hummed in response, sitting up fully and spreading my legs provocatively. "Clean it," I commanded, my voice low and taunting.
His eyes flickered with hunger, a predatory gleam lighting up his face. "You're stubborn," he said, approaching me once more.
"I've been told," I replied, my voice a purr as his face dipped between my legs. His tongue lapped at the mess we had created, each stroke sending shivers of pleasure through me.
I moaned softly, my fingers threading through his hair, guiding him as he worked. The heat between us reignited, our bodies responding to each other with the same intensity as before. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open as he continued his ministrations, the sensation driving me to the edge once more.
Just as I was about to lose myself in the moment again, the unmistakable sound of the door creaking open cut through the haze of passion. Panic surged through us both.
"Shit," Jace muttered, pulling away quickly and scrambling to his feet.
"Give me my dress," I hissed, urgency lacing my voice. He bent down quickly, searching the floor, but we were unsuccessful in our frantic efforts to cover me up.
"What do we have here?" Daemon's voice rang out, an amused smirk on his face as he took in the scene. Jace immediately stood in front of me, shielding my body from view.
"What are you doing, little prince?" Daemon asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
"We were just..." Jace began, taking a step forward, but I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back in front of me.
"I'm still naked," I shrieked in his ear, my voice a desperate whisper. He looked back at me, panic evident in his eyes.
"It's not what it looks like," I stumbled out, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.Â
Daemon laughed shaking his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I think it's exactly what it looks like," he said, taking a few steps closer. "But don't stop on my account."
"What?" Jace asked his voice a mixture of confusion and alarm.
"Go on," Daemon said, gesturing toward me with a lazy wave of his hand. "Make sure you do a good job. I wouldn't want to report that the heir of the kingdom doesn't know how to please a lady."
I could see the hesitation in Jace's eyes, the conflict between his duty and his desire. He glanced at me, his face a mask of uncertainty.
"Now," Daemon commanded, his voice brooking no argument.
With a deep breath, Jace turned back to me, his eyes filled with renewed determination. He sank to his knees, his hands spreading my thighs once more as his mouth descended to my centre.
The embarrassment of Daemon's presence mixed with the raw pleasure of Jace's tongue, creating a heady, intoxicating sensation. My fingers tangled in Jace's hair, guiding him as he worked, my moans growing louder with each passing second.
"That's more like it," Daemon remarked, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched. "Don't be shy now. Let him know how he's doing."
I threw my head back, a loud moan escaping my lips as Jace's tongue found a particularly sensitive spot. The thrill of being watched only heightened my pleasure, pushing me closer to the edge.
"Good girl," Daemon purred, his voice low and encouraging. "Show him how much you enjoy it."
The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, each touch, and each sound amplifying the pleasure coursing through me. I was teetering on the brink, my body trembling with the effort to hold back.
"Don't hold back," Daemon commanded, his voice a seductive whisper. "Let go."
With a final cry of ecstasy, I did as he said, my release crashing over me like a tidal wave. Jace continued his efforts, prolonging my pleasure until I was spent, collapsing back against the table.
"Well done," Daemon said, a satisfied smirk on his face as he straightened up. "Now, clean up your mess, both of you. We wouldn't want anyone else stumbling upon this little scene, would we?"
As Daemon turned to leave, his laughter echoed in the hallway. We exchanged a glance, the reality of our situation sinking in. This was a dangerous game we were playing, but the thrill of it was impossible to resist.
Jace turned back to me, exhaling heavily. I slapped his chest in frustration. "Ow," he mumbled, rubbing the spot I had just hit.
"Give me my dress," I demanded. He quickly found the discarded garment and handed it to me. I slipped it on, hopping off the council table as I adjusted the fabric.
"This is your fault," he muttered, irritation in his voice.
"My fault?" I retorted, incredulous.
"You're the one who wanted me to clean my mess," he pointed out as we began picking up the scattered papers and pawns.
"I didn't mean," I snapped. "You're the one who couldn't control himself."
"Neither could you," he shot back. "Don't act like you weren't just as involved."
"Oh, please," I scoffed, shaking my head as I tossed papers back onto the table.
Jace rolled his eyes. "Look, maybe we both lost control, but what about Daemon?"
I froze, the weight of his words hitting me. "Daemon saw... oh, gods, he saw myâ" I buried my head in my hands.Â
Jace chuckled, the sound a mix of relief and amusement.
I looked up at him, mortified. "So now what?"
"Now we get out of here before anyone else catches us," he said, giving me a squeeze.
As we walked out of the council room, Jace's arm around my shoulders felt oddly comforting. We moved quickly, our footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.
"I can't believe Daemon sawâ" I started, but Jace cut me off with a smirk.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Daemon's got bigger things to worry about, I certainly don't think he disapproved."
"I'm still mortified," I muttered. "What if he tells someone?"
"Let him," Jace shrugged. "If anything, it might remind us to be more careful next time."
"Next time? You think I'm letting this happen again?"
He laughed. "Well, if Daemon's reaction was any indication, maybe we'll have to be more creative. Or, just a little more discreet."
I couldn't help but smile. As we reached the end of the corridor, we parted ways, the tension between us temporarily eased by our shared laughter.
For a moment, the war outside was forgotten, replaced by the war we fought with each other, a war that ended, at least for now, in a fierce and reckless truce.
A/n -Â This is VERY different from my usual style, so Iâm extremely nervous to share it. I spent an absurd amount of time writing it because I kept second-guessing myself, but I really hope it doesnât disappoint!!Â
#house of the dragon#house targaryen#hotd#hotd x reader#house of the dragon x reader#hotd one shot#hotd season 2#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd fanfic#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#team black#prince jacaerys#jace x reader#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys strong
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In Reca's ideal film, you'd be nothing more than a toy forced to spin at the twirls of a clockwork key ; a spectacle suspended in motion, complete allegiance to his direction, again and again in the palm of his hand. In that perfect shot, you would not rebel, fist against the surface of the screen in a plea to be leg go, no, you'd be easy to control.
âDo not be absurd, my dear! Has a bug chipped away at the film in your head? You would not survive a day away from my camera.â
The friction of his glove as it clasps onto the sinews of your arms clashes against the ricocheting waves of his voice in your ears. Cut! Cut! Cut! You need not return his stare to hear the panic reverberating through his head, just as he needs not respect a fraction of your personal space.
âMy thoughts are perfectly lucid, director. I no longer wish to act under your guidance.â you push him back with a finger to his chest and he allows you to, his arms falling to his sides before rising with all the melodrama of a seasoned lunatic.
âWhat a way to say you wish me dead!â with a sweep, he's beside your stead.
âHave you forgotten your dream, my brightest star?â a brush of his breath against your ear, a firm grasp onto your wrist as it unfolds your hand towards the phantom of your wish, âWhat happened to that light that brought you to me?â
His presence, annoyingly, is as engulfing as it was the first moment you had the misfortune of meeting his acquaintance. A dwindling candle in a shadowed room, its flicker is too miniscule in comparison to the tenebrous monstrosity extending its talons towards the candle's light.
Contempt is the sole benefactor that keeps it alight, burning for a moment longer. A fruitless effort â rebelling is nothing more than running closer and closer to the dead end.
âIt got snuffed out.â you tilt your head towards his pointed stare, in time to bear witness to the contractions of emotions vacillating in his eyes â building up up up before bursting forth in a supernova of laughter. Your feet nearly tangle amongst themselves as you try to move away from the disturbing sight, attempt thwarted by his insistent hand.
Reca's crackles slighter to a burdened sigh, ruby eyes peek from between the crevices of the fingers of his free hand, âAnd, you allowed it.â
It should be incriminating for a sentence that calm to fizzle your nerves that quickly, âNon.. nonsense! It was you who clearlyââ
Your heart jumps as the axis of your vision goes askance, red bleeds and paints the corners of your mind. âI did what?â the sting of his nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks wakes you, âCome on, you can do it, love. Think. What did I do to you, clearly?â
âYou... you made me into who I am today and, I can never even think of standing in front of the camera without your direction.â you heave.
âBrilliant! Just like this! If you continue performing this well, it won't be long before we can step up from these boring scenes and move onto shooting the truly heart-touching moments.â it is debatable whether your legs surrendered on their own or were forced to as the Memokeeper catches you, dragging along your limp form towards his vision.
âAnd when every scene has been shot, organized and edited to perfection, I'll keep it secure from everyone's grabby hands â for, this film is to be viewed by us alone.â
Hatred is the frailty of the weak, their last act of defiance before they embrace destruction. In Reca's hands, it is nothing more than a misdirection to achieve the most perfect shot, malleable to his whimsies.
#he's like a looney tunes character - anime version#mr reca#mr reca x reader#mr reca brainrot#yandere mr reca#yandere mr reca x reader#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere honkai star rail x reader#yandere
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â 11:11 wishes.
pairing: kinich x gn!reader
premise: you weren't one to believe in manifestation that the media portrays, but the student council vice president has made you think otherwise.
â warnings: reader is me coded (re: delusional), just pure fluff, modern/school setting.
â author's note: heavily inspired by my own experiences and shit. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 2.6k words.
â tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!
you spent an entire hour and a half staring at the pretty boy two seats in front of you. again.Â
with a frustrated groan and very aggressively typed out messages to mualani, you heave out a sigh and watch your bedside clock tick. it was 11 minutes to the wishing hour and you were very much considering wishing kinich would miraculously be your partner for your next nonfiction project. youâre not sure how long you spent daydreaming about the way the student council vice president spun the pen in his hand with ease or how he always seemed so serious and mysterious. by the time you look back at your clock it was barely 2 minutes before 11:11 pm hit and you scrambled to sit up.
âam i really about to try and manifest this guy?â you ask in disbelief as the magic numbers appear and you find yourself closing your eyes, lips muttering a soft wish, âplease let him be my partner for this project.â
now, you werenât much of a believer in manifestation per se, but when you woke up earlier than your alarm and with the birds chirping, you just knew something good was going to happen today.Â
as you make your way to school, you peek at the bulletin board mualani and the rest of the council is working on for foundation week. unsurprisingly there was a crowd of students around it, all trying to catch the eye of the president and her right hand man. mualani has always said you stare at people like a hawk because she spun around from what she was doing and waved at you, very exaggeratedly mind you. the boy you spent the entire night thinking about suddenly turned to the commotion and you were left to awkwardly wave hello before making your way to the classroom.Â
his stare was intenseâyou felt it all the way until you turned a cornerâbut you canât deny the sudden heat that rose to your cheeks when you remembered the color of his eyes. vibrantly shiny and green; like seeping sunlight through the leaves of summer trees. it was a sight to behold, unforgettable dare you say. you thought about the way his bangs framed his face, the slight smudge of paint on his cheeks, and the way you caught a glimpse of how his hand slightly raised as if to wave hello until your english class started.
âand for our last pair: [name] and kinich.â
now, itâs no surprise that you donât listen in class (you and mualani joke that if either of you ever listened to a class the world might end) but this? this piqued your attention so badly you nearly toppled over your own chair. the hushed giggles of your classmates rang in your ears as maroon rushed to your cheeks. your eyes unwittingly found their way to the pretty boy two seats in front of you who willingly caught your stare. he looked equally intrigued and amused and you canât help the awkward smile you flash at him.
âholy shit, it worked.â
you feel mualaniâs judging stare as you unabashedly kick your feet in glee as a wide smile spreads on your face.
âget well soon,â she jokingly says, stealing her shark plush from your arms as you pout at her. mualani rolls her eyes at you and smacks you with the plush which you retaliate by throwing a pillow at her. âgive me a pass! this is a first for me.â
âand i hope itâll be the last!â you glare at her as she dodges another pillow. laughing as she skips out of your room leaving you on your bed with your phone and the paragraph you still haven't sent.
âwhy is green your favorite color?â
after your firstâvery awkwardâconversation with kinich, he graciously gave you his number to stay in touch for this project. it was rather simple really: pair up, interview each other, write a biography. easy right? well, not when your partner is the definition of a wallflower at its peak. youâre not complaining though, in your last class with him (that was literally just 3 days ago), he had allowed you to talk his ear off and asked if it was alright if he just talked to you over text. still unsure and admittedly (though not verbally) shy to open up to a person heâs only known for less than a week.
so here you are now, exchanging texts with the guy you lowkey have a crush on, unsure of how to rephrase your answer to not make it so obvious that you like him. no way in hell youâll just shoot a text that says, âoh, i like green because you always wear a green hoodie to school.â youâd die from embarrassment! but then again, kinich has mentioned in a previous question on how he preferred straightforward people.
with an aggressive thumb pressed to the back button, you type out a new message that wasnât two paragraphs long that described the color of his eyes.
âthe color reminds me of summertime. what about you? whatâs your favorite color?â
he doesnât even give you a chance to put your phone down for a full minute before it buzzes with a new notification. with mortifyingly fast reflexes, you shove your phone to your face, your own screen brightness flashing you as your heart hammers in your chest. fuck butterflies in your stomach, you had an entire zoo with the series of messages kinich had sent.
âblue. you were wearing a blue bracelet when we first met and i really liked it.â
âandâ
âit suits youâ
âis that a weird thing to say?â
what⊠the⊠fuck�
mualaniâs footsteps raced against your carpeted stairs as she barged into your room, half eaten cookie in her hands. her worry dissipated into a judging but amused smile as you pace around your room, hands covering your faceâyou were quite sure steam was rising out of your head with how warm your face felt.
âmualani, he remembered,â you say in disbelief as you fall to your ass, sitting on your bedroom floors. grabbing the nearest plush on your bed and screaming into it as mualani laughs. âthis is not funny!â
âbut it is!â she insists, wiping a fake tear from her eyes. âyouâre such a goner.â
âbut he remembered the color of my bracelet!â you throw your hands up in the sky, rushing to your feet and grabbing your best friend by her shoulders. âwho the fuck remembers the color of someoneâs bracelet?!â
mualani laughs again as she peels your grip from her shoulders. âkinich. and you better get used to it, that guy has an even more hawkish stare than you.â
yeah, mualani was right, you were a goner. how the hell are you going to sit in front of him in your next class without bursting into a million pieces?
staying up with mualani until half past midnight was not a good idea because here you two were, laughing in panic as you both rushed to get ready for school. this girl, you swear sheâll get you expelled one way or another (but you wonât have it any other way).Â
with all the previous treacherous pe classes in your system, you try your best to keep up with mualaniâs athleticism under the chilly morning breeze. you might be laughing now but if you were to show up late in english even if it's only by a minute or two, youâll get cooked on the spot by your teacher. even worse! kinich would have a front row seat for the entire fiasco because he always arrives 10 minutes before the actual class.
cursing your lowkey crushâs punctuality as you both speed past other almost late students, you bid mualani a quick goodbye and make a swift turn to your class. in your locked in state, you donât notice the poor student in front of you. the world stilled for a moment as papers flew like miniature planes as you braced yourself to meet the cold school floorsâbut it never came.
âare you alright?â
you slowly look up, and there he isâkinich, his brows slightly furrowed, holding you steady with his gentle hands. âbe careful,â he says, voice soft but still scolding. âyou couldâve gotten hurt.â
âr-right, sorry,â you stammer, trying to ignore the shaking of your hands and thumping of your heart as you scramble to pick up the stray papers on the floor.
your hand paused when kinichâs fingers brushed against your own. kinich catches your gaze, and for a moment, you both stillâgreen eyes filled with warmth, so full of something that pulled you in like a vortex. you canât look away. heat rises to your checks when he clears his throat, standing up and handing the papers back to the student.
you follow his lead, brushing off imaginary dust from your uniform as you pull out your phone for a quick check on your appearance. you barely have a second to process what just happened when you hear kinich cough again.
âletâs go to class,â he says, covering his mouth with his fist and his eyes avoiding you but you catch the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips. âiâll tell the teachers i asked you to help me with council work so he wonât mark you as late.â
âoh no, no!â you quickly decline, waving him off with a lopsided smile. âitâs alright, you donât have to cover for me. i stayed up late last night so itâs still my fault for being late.â you chuckle nervously, but kinich just stands there, watching you closely.
you stiffen like a board when he takes a step towards you, then another, and another until heâs standing right in front of you. well shit, he smelled really nice; unexpectedly floral mixed with a salty ocean breeze. you feel blood rush to your ears when kinich plucks a stray leaf from your hair and did he just chuckle?
âall right then,â he says with a small, barely-there laugh, turning to walk to class. you donât notice the way he slips his hand through the straps of your bag until he slings it over his shoulders. âletâs get to class. i still have a lot of questions to ask you.â
this boyâs smile truly will be the death of you.
â11:11, i wish to talk to him even after this project.â
you find yourself wishing as you and the rest of mualaniâs friends leave the campus after an unexpected cancelation of classes. today marked as the last day of your little getting to know with kinich. you were already finished with his biography and have been purposely leaving out certain bits of information in your answers so you could spend some more time with the boy.
speaking of which, said boy was conversing with xilonenâa pretty third year who you had the pleasure of meeting because of himâregarding the foundation week. all of you agreed to go to a karaoke booth to pass time (more like mualani dragged you to join because of your glum mood), but before you could take another step to your destination, a warm hand catches your wrist and softly tugs you back.
âweâll catch up,â kinich says as you try to bite back the smile threatening to spill from your face as he plays with the beads of your bracelet. âwe need to finish up the biography project.â
mualani complains about why you still arenât finished. if it werenât for chasca and xilonenâs persuasion, the younger girl wouldnât have allowed the two of you to split up. with an amused chuckle, you readjust the straps of your bag and look at kinich who caught your stare.
âshall we go?â
he nods and the walk to the park was spent in quiet appreciation of the sun. when you catch sight of the free swings at the heart of the park, your hand as if magnets came, tug at kinichâs sleeve and drag him to sit down there. bags carelessly thrown to the side as he scolded you on what if something broke. you only laugh in response and gleefully sit down.
âpush me?â you ask with a childish smile as kinich shakes his head but still follows through with your request. he gently pushes you on the swings as you hum a small tune. âwhat questions do you have left?â
kinich stopped pushing you and instead sits down beside you. slowly swinging himself as he says, ânothing. i just wanted to be alone with you.â
the chains of the swings creak softly like your heart as butterflies were set free in your stomach once again. he turns to youâall blushing cheeks and biting back a smileâwith a knowing and entertained look in his eyes.
âi hate you,â you randomly say as you swing yourself. trying to cool yourself with the morning air as kinich follows suit. âiâm gonna miss talking to you,â you continued, eyes strained over the horizon as children began to appear with their parents in tow.
âyou say that as if this will be the last time we talk.â
you stop swinging and look at him, hands gripping at the chains more tightly than you wanted to admit. âis it not the last time?â
âno.â he quickly replies and you're stunned. âdo you want us to stop talking?â he turns to you with a raised brow and you couldnât hold your smile back anymore as you shake your head no.
âi never really thanked you for saving me from face-planting in front of so many people.â you bring up the memory in jest as you giggle. there was a faint chuckle that the breeze carried as kinich replied, âit was no problem.â
âcan i tell you a secret?â you grin at him. youâre not quite sure what spurred you on to suddenly bring this up but truly, it was now or never. âgo ahead.â
âi wished youâd be my partner for this project, and wouldnât you know, it actually happened.â
âoh, i know.â
âŠ
what?
kinich laughsâlight like the morning sunlight seeping through summer leaves. you stare at him dumbfounded as red spread across your cheeks. âhow the hell did you know?! i never mentioned it before have i?â your voice grew quieter as you trail off. hands coming to shield your flustered face from him.
âno, you didnât. mualani did though.â
ah.Â
he pulls out his phone and flashes you a screenshot of his mualaniâs conversation from a month ago. you feel your dignity and pride get sucked out of you as mualani even sent screenshots of you complaining about not knowing how to approach kinich outside of academics, hell, she even had a voice message of her undoubtedly laughing!
âi pulled a few strings for our english class so weâd get paired up,â he said with a cheeky glint in his eyes.
âwhy?â you ask.
kinich smiles, not the small tugs at the corners of his lips he graces you whenever you do something stupid, a full smile where his teeth caught the light of the sun. âi wanted to be your partner, too. since i granted you a wish itâs only fair you grant me one too.â
you try to ignore the erratic flips your heart was doing from his first statement, putting it on the backburner for now as you chuckle nervously. your palms started to sweat and your mind raced with what kinich could potentially want from you.Â
âbe my partner for life, thatâs my 11:11 wish today.â
god, this boy truly wants to kill you.
© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
#âstellaronhvnters.#kinich x reader#kinich x you#kinich fluff#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin imagines#genshin impact kinich#( đĄ ) â royal flush of stories .á
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*à©â©â§âË day 17!! need me a big man like Miguel right now wc: 753 *àłàŒ
Itâs one of those nights you just canât take anymore. And Miguel knows it too, but he just canât bring himself to stop. He knows your body has had enough, he knows youâve peaked more times than you can stand, but with the way youâre grabbing onto him, the way your voice trembles as you beg him not to stop, the way you keep sucking him back in⊠how could he ever end this?Â
His back is already covered in scratches. If it werenât for his healing factor, heâd be screwed and sore tomorrow. But sometimes he wishes the scrapes from your fingernails would last a little longer so he can wear them like a badge of honor. Your nails raking down his back with every pound into your pussy. Down his muscles and scratching red lines into his skin. Not that you mean to do it, you donât want to hurt him, but itâs just the natural reaction. When youâre on the edge of coming, anticipating that perfect stroke that will send you over the edge.Â
Itâs both an upside and downside to loving a superhero. Heâll make you come a million times in one night but heâll fuck you sore and breathless for hours because his stamina is unending. Itâs almost like heâs on a mission and his DNA allows him to exert himself for much longer than a normal man. Another upside/downside is his size. Much bigger than a normal human man because his DNA is half radioactive spider superhuman. Your little pussy can barely handle a quickie or two. But for hours, heâll have you worked out, stretched out, filled up and buzzing.Â
Even with his genetic mutations, he is still very much human at heart. And he loves you a whole lot, would never dream of causing you pain. But when youâre gushing on him and pulling his hair, scratching his skin, begging and crying for more, he canât say no.Â
âAh-sâtoo⊠too deep baby!â You sob, holding onto him, your fingers tangled in his dark curls and tugging. One big hand cradling your ass as he pounds into you and his other arm under your back. So only your head lies on the mattress, your body in his hold and angled just the way he needs to reach all your sweet spots, your shaking legs wrapped around his waist, heâs pushing deep and full. Stuffing you with him so his pelvic bone pushes up on your puffy aching clit. âOh donât stop⊠mmmmtoo much babe!!â
âShhhhbaby I know- youâre so good just one moreâŠâ He smiles at your conflicting sentiments, face dipping down into your neck and panting against your skin. Tightening his hold around your hot trembling body and grinding into your heat like heâs searching for the warmth therein.Â
âNgh! Ngh ngh ngh! I c-canât!â You whine, over and over, falling apart and your sounds are music to his ears. âCome on baby, come⊠you can take it⊠give it to meâŠâÂ
His deep voice sends chills down your spine, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, drawing a hiss from between his fanged teeth. Feeling you clenching around his girth and squirting on him, making a mess. âOh yes baby oh oh-âÂ
His cock sloshes through your cum, pumping you through your orgasm and extending it as long as he can. Growling low against your cheek, talons threaten to pierce the soft warm skin of your ass as he plunges deep, forcing your tensed walls open to accept him, all the way to the hilt as you milk him inside. His broad sweaty chest heaving against yours and holding you in a vice grip. Not wasting a drop, depositing it all deep inside for you. All yours.Â
âShitâŠâ He sighs, rolling off of you and onto his back on the other side of the bed. His chest heaving. Dick twitching, his abdomen messy with your release. Draping his arms over his face and huffing heavy breath. Maybe tonight is the first occasion youâve outdone him. âDios-â He sighs when he can feel you climbing on top of him. Youâre insatiable. Even when begging him to stop- begging him to keep going.Â
âNo mĂĄs, conejita⊠no moreâŠâ He pants. Big warm hands going to hold your thighs straddling him. But youâre already working his tip back inside, slipping around through your slick, prodding your aching entrance. Bearing his teeth at the sensitivity he feels, the way his abdomen contracts with aftershocks. âOne more, Mig⊠pleaseâŠâ
Taglist!! love my sweeties!
@spooky-sculder
@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13
@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear
@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie
@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp @reader-1290
@sp0ck136
if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! đ©·
#trick or sweet đŹ#kinktober#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#artists on tumblr#artists on tiktok#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel fanart#smut#miguel ohara smut#astv miguel#atsv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel o'hara#miguel x reader#spiderman atsv#atsv#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara fanart#kinktober 2024#kinktober prompts#x reader#kinktober masterlist
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