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reilemon · 4 months ago

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🍒My Everything🍒

♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.

♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune

The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.

As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?

A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.

You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.

As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?

Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.

You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"

You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.

Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.

"Xavier, what - "

"Oh, what's this?"

He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.

"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."

He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.

You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.

After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.

"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.

You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "

"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.

While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.

"So, the groceries I bought today - "

"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."

You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.

But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.

You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."

He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.

He does.

After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.

"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.

"Did you pick out a movie?"

You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.

And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.

With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.

"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.

Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"

"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.

You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.

All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.

He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.

"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.

Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.

You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.

"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."

You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."

A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"

When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"

The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.

You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"

He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.

Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.

He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.

Fuck, it's thick.

Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.

You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.

But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.

A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.

"Fuck, you're doing so good."

His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.

When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.

Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.

You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.

"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.

Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.

You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"

Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."

He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice

"Look me in the eyes, honey."

And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.

His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"

You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.

You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.

"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.

And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"

You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.

With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.

The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.

"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.

You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.

"Shoot, I almost forgot!"

Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.

You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.

"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.

"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.

Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"

"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."

Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.

You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."

He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."

After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.

#love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier smut #xavier x reader #love and deepspace smut #xavier #lads x reader #lads smut #xavier x you

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in-som-niyah · 2 months ago

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ok i’ve been having this thought for a while… since jason is so attentive what are some things he would do that makes reader’s life easier??? like i see him as such an acts of service man like if all else fails he will make sure you’re never out of your fav tea or something idk im sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭😭

"I Do, I Do, I Do"

A/N: digging myself out of a depressive episode with this one + this is my first fic after my long ass hiatus so pls be nice to me im trying

Attentive!Jason Todd will pay so much attention to you you would think he has a camera on you 24/7 and watching your every move.

Jason would remember the big things, like anniversaries and birthdays, but also days of the year when he knows you need the most support from him. If a parent/guardian/loved one died on a specific day/time of year he's attuned to your emotional needs and keeps up with your physical ones (like food and sleep) so you can focus on being ok again. (i am NOT projecting chat)

Jason would also remember the little things, like your favourite tiny spoon, the way you prefer spearmint to wintermint in gum and toothpaste, the way you compulsively brush your hair to the side when your bangs get too long, when it's time for you to leave a social situation. He's just always looking at you and around you to make sure you're happy and smiling when you wave back at him form across the room.

If you have health problems, Jason would never in his life let you run out of meds or whatever you need to combat your illness. The massage gun is always charged, heating pad always available, hot water bottles on standby, compression socks/arm bands at your disposal, everything. He doesn't wait for it to get bad either, he's picked up on your cues so well that he can almost predict a disaster before you do.

Speaking of prediction, he also knows that if you're not off work and in the apartment by a certain time, to start the laundry, dishes and order in/cook a quick dinner because he knows you'll come home a tense ball of stress and worry.

Jason who almost exclusively wears a specific type of softer fabric when you're around him because he loves it when you bury your face in his chest and rest your head on his bicep.

(For the short girlies) Jason who puts rubber corner protectors on the corners of your countertops and tables because you always bash your hips into them when you aren't paying attention.

Jason who does the laundry before you wake up in the morning and folds your clothes exactly the way you do because he knows you're particular about it & doesnt want you to stress about it in the morning.

Jason who puts gas in your car and repairs it himself or sends it to the bats to fix when he can't (he would never admit it though).

Jason who notices your favourite brands of food and makes sure they're always stocked (you're convinced it's witchcraft the way things don't run out)

Jason who just loves you. That's it. That's all. Just love. In any and all ways he can. All the time. In all conditions. In all situations. Patient. Loving. Kind.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason peter todd #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #dcu #jason todd comfort #red hood headcanon #dc red hood #the red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x you #dc robin

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kurosagi-h8r · 16 days ago

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I think it would be fun if darkwick has like a radio committee/club where they would read anonymous messages/letters for the school. Maybe they can invite the students as guest speaker too. I need Ed to be invited only for him to be like joke around and just beating around the bush haha hihi and then he dropped some big scandal/secret for all the school to hear.

How it works is the host will announce who the next guest speaker would be and then people can send anonymous letters, it can be about the guest or anyone, then the guest will have to read the letter there. On a live radio.

Yuri will either rant about darkwick general or openly threat frostheim students and endangering the radio committee.

Jiro will actually be pretty normal and give tips regarding student health. Until he read one anonymous letter with smth like love confession or poetry that's soooo Zenji style and he'd be like "...where did you get this?"

Subaru reading anonymous letters (sent by Leo) to corner him into spilling the beans about himself. Poor guy would struggle in front of the mic.

Can I be biased here? I want Haku to read a bunch of love letters lololol (i would send him tons tbh) JUST TO HEAR HIM oh-so-seductively CHUCKLE EVERY 5 SECONDS LETTER AFTER LETTER until I realize I wasn't the only one because some girl two seats away from me is giggling to herself hearing Haku reading her letter out loud. "Ahaha... so many love letters, are you guys sure it's all for me? All your love??? For a guy like me? I must've been a hero in my past life."

As for Tohma he would either read complaints or blatant complaints from another Frostheimers (i feel like he could tell just from the handwritting alone that the sender is from his house) and after reading the entire content he would go, "Thank you for the heartfelt letter, MR FUJI. I'll be sure to assess myself better but I would need more detailed information on your view regarding my performance as the Vice Captain. Please come to the Vault and be sure to come on time after this radio session. Should you be too busy, I can always interro– I mean interview your closent friend, the honor student. After all I don't mind having her attention all to myself." Or something along the line bcs he'd play dirty like that. (That's so hot of him tho i would at least admit it)

Sho wouldn't really be a guest speaker but if the radio committee needs to make some quick buck they could open a paid promotion and you would hear the committee promoting HTH lol. Like telling the audience about Discount of The Day that you wouldn't know unless you listen to the radio.

Also Haru would probably do the same too! He would want the radio to promote the safari lol.

Ritsu... can the committee even convince him to spare some time in his schedule to be their guest speaker? Would he charge them money? 😭 What if he starts spouting some laws about some legal wrongdoings the radio committee has done (which they didn't even realize) just by making this whole radio thing A THING.

Kinda same with Ritsu, the committee would have to pay Romeo for him to come. I just wish Kaito would send him a letter and everyone would hear Romeo curse tf out of that letter. I think by the end of the session he should put a bounty on Kaito's head. Just because.

What if someone say some bad things about Haru and then Towa IMMEDIATELY storm the studio or zap the radio tower 😭

Mizuki Rui dating advice session? Mizuki Rui dating advice session. Just like Haku he would receive anonymous love letters (or not anonymous. Honestly i would be bold too if it's him). They'd be such a huge confidence booster for him lol and he would give the senders cute nicknames if they're not anonymous.

There has to be messages about the teachers too. Hyde reading anonymous letter in which he could tell Sho was the sender. Students shit-talking about Moby and his weird ass idol obsession (i would be the sender just watch), *cough* students being nosy about the relationship between Benkei and Nicholas *cough* well well MC PLEASE MAKE THIS RADIO A PLACE FOR YOU TO LET YOUR HEART OUT PLEASEEEE YOU SHOULD BE GIVEN A FREEDOM OF SPEECH AT THE VERY LEAST 😭

The rest of them would either not care enough about the radio or become the sender. Leo would prefer to be the sender, i think. Ren would only send anonymous letter when Haru is the speaker to let everyone knows he dislike him and dislike being put in Jabberwock. Zenji will always send his poetry and probably most speakers would find it hard to understand his works, let alone reading them out loud 😭 Zenji himself would love to be the speaker but oh well~ still, it's an opportunity to spread positivity and hopefully he can brighten someone's day with his work.

#rhy brainrotting mode #my coffee did its job good tonight #did i say i have exam this week? yet here i am #tdb #rhy tdb talks #tokyo debunker #rhyapping #not tagging the characters im too lazy #rhy writes

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queensunshinee · 28 days ago

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I told you things || Art Donaldson x reader

Warnings: mention of a drunk driver (DON'T do that!!!), also it's kinda sad so be aware of the angst. Word Count: 2.7k

I told you things

This is a foolish event. You look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself that all you need to do is smile, shake hands, stand beside your grandmother, and eat an oyster. Sip champagne. Get drunk on the champagne. Ignore Art Donaldson. Piece of cake. You take a deep breath and enter the hall, seeing the fancy dresses of people who were once your friends and their parents. People who are almost strangers but also so familiar. "You made it, good. Please don't slouch," your grandmother reminds you to straighten up every three minutes when she's beside you. "It’ll help you project presence," she always says. She's a powerful woman; the way she speaks and carries herself is filled with a regal and noble quality that you lack. You’re your father's daughter, and he's been denying the fact he's her son since the day he learned the meaning of the word "deny." You feel out of place, but you're standing tall, and that's all that matters to her right now.

By the tenth handshake, you've lost count. By the third glass of champagne, you've lost meaning. Because Art only looks at you when he thinks you're not looking at him. He stands in the corner with Patrick, who greeted you with his dad, but Art looked at everything in the room except you. You find yourself making small talk with Art's mom, who was always like a second mom, maybe even the first if you consider your relationship with your own mother. And she tells you how well he's doing. How successful he is at Stanford. That he’s never been this happy.

So you say you're happy for him because you really are happy for him. Everyone wants to see the people they love happy. Everyone wants to hear that they're doing well, that they've found their purpose. That they’re not wandering lost in the world. That they live in a universe full of meaning. Art Donaldson is the best you know at meaning. He decided he'd be that figure, that player everyone knows. A name mentioned at family dinners when people talk about what's new in American sports. He’ll be the one who makes dreams come true.

"(Y/N), it’s been a while since we've seen you here," one of your grandfather's friends approaches you and pulls you into a hug for no apparent reason. It’s always the same middle-aged people. Always men. Always letting themselves hold on four seconds longer than appropriate. More than socially acceptable. The only thing it made you think of is that every other time you'd encountered behavior like this, Art was beside you, pulling you away with a pretext no one could resist. You almost started crying in the middle of the hall. In the middle of a charity event. In the middle of life. Just like that, crying. Like when you were younger. When you didn’t need an excuse, when it was okay because someone would already be your advocate and say, "She's tired."

Now you're tired too, but no one finds it necessary to be your advocate. . . . Between forced smiles and small talks, you found yourself sneaking outside to smoke a cigarette, nearly ignoring everyone you once considered friends who now live in a parallel world. A world where choosing between you and Art is simple because you're far away. Because you come once a year, and Art is an inseparable part of their lives. Their smiles are apologetic when they glance at you, quickly returning to their conversations, to the laughter you used to be part of.

"It's not sexy, you know?" Patrick's voice came from behind you, laced with a hint of arrogance. He didn't see, but you definitely rolled your eyes. "I thought everything was sexy in your opinion," you shot back, not looking at him as he came close enough to light his cigarette with yours. "Except for self-pity. That's pathetic," he said, taking a deep drag. "I'm not pitying myself," you replied, too quickly for it to sound convincing. "Why didn't you say hello to anyone?" he asked, not taking his gaze off you. "I said hello to everyone." Another eye roll, this time one he could see. "Bullshit, sugar, you did a round with your grandpa and hugged old folks. You said hi to your friends' parents—that doesn’t count," he didn't let anything slip by. It was infuriating.

"It's just one night, Patrick. I won't have to see anyone here again." You said with determination, as if trying to convince yourself it was true. Both of you knew it wasn’t just one night. "And what will you do all summer? Sit in their house and cry about how awful your life is? Unbeli—" "That's enough, Patrick." Art's voice made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t seen his face, or his curls, or his crossed arms, but you already felt panic wrapping around you. "Give us a moment," he added, still not coming closer. He didn’t stand beside you or in front of you. He stayed in his position of power. He could see you, but you couldn’t see him. You looked at Patrick as if he was the only one who could save you at that moment. You let the tightness in your throat show, and the plea in your eyes was unmistakable. You weren’t too proud to beg if it would make him stay and not leave you two alone. Patrick looked at you for another moment, showing not an ounce of mercy as he shrugged and started to walk away. Bastard. Absolute bastard. "Dickhead," you muttered, watching his clumsy steps until he disappeared from view.

Art's chuckle was faint but just loud enough to make you regret the cigarette you stepped outside to smoke. What was so urgent that you had to edge closer to death? Why couldn’t you hold back before giving in to this stupid addiction? "Want one?" Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed the slight tremor in your voice as you offered Art a cigarette. Anyone else would’ve interpreted it as confidence. He saw it for what it was, a defense. It was all you had to place between the two of you—a stretched-out hand and a pack of Winston Lights. Patrick was right. It really was all pathetic. "I don’t smoke anymore," he sighed, leaning against the makeshift railing next to you, not looking at you but straight ahead, the same way you weren't looking at him.

"That's a nice dress," he broke the silence. "Thanks, my grandma chose it," you mumbled, trying to find meaning in this conversation. A conversation with a stranger who knows all your secrets. A stranger who knows what makes you laugh and what makes you cry. A stranger who holds half of your heart in his hands. "I'm not surprised, she has good taste. She always picked the best movies and took us to the best restau-" he began, slipping into nostalgia. "I’ll suggest she divorce my grandpa because she might have a suitor," you interrupted, glancing at him just for a second to see his face fall slightly and to hear his bitter chuckle. You turned your gaze the other way, ashamed of what you'd done. That you'd knocked the wind out of him in an instant.

"How are you?" he asked. "We haven't spoken in a while." You could sense the tension in his voice. It should've made you feel better, realizing that you weren’t the only one who was anxious, that he felt bad too. But it only made you shift uncomfortably. He was supposed to be okay. He’d moved on. He wasn't there anymore. You were the only one stuck a year back. The only one who couldn’t move forward with her life. Everyone else was at a different stage. Everyone knew what they wanted, and Art was no different. More than that, Art could be the leader of those who know what they want. "Everything’s fine, you know, routine," you found yourself mumbling. "What's the routine?" he asked, this time looking at you, his voice desperate for information. For details. "You don’t want to know," you gave him a forced smile. "But I’m fine, really," you quickly added. "They covered it all up as if nothing happened, so you don't have to worry."

And again, he let out a bitter laugh, and if it made sense, he would’ve stomped his right foot and shaken you. Because you have to talk to him. Because he's to blame. You know he's to blame. He knows he's to blame. Patrick knows he's to blame. But you’re not willing to talk to him anymore. And how is it fair? That he continues as if nothing happened. As if he once dreamed of you and you’re just a character he invented to pull him out of any quicksand he stumbled into.

"I'm really sorry, Shug," he said, not knowing how much longer he could hold back the tears. Not knowing how long he could keep his composure. He hadn’t expected to see you here today, but here you are, looking so beautiful and good and distant. Keeping your distance, keeping it safe. As if you were born to protect him from the world. As if you'd always be there but would disappear the second he didn't need you anymore. And how is that fair? He asks himself over and over- how is that fucking fair?!

"Art, I chose to do this." Your voice didn’t waver as you looked at him this time. Because you truly believed it. You chose. No one forced you. You decided. "I told you to leave. I told you not to be there. I chose." You repeated it. Your gaze was piercing. His blue eyes glowed as if he were listening to a prayer. As if God were speaking to him. Last summer, you both went to a party, and Art drove drunk. He didn’t hurt anyone, but he sped and crashed into a bridge. You told him to leave before the police arrived. No one got hurt. There was no reason his entire future should be ruined. He was supposed to start at Stanford. You both were supposed to start at Stanford. He went on to college, and you started community service. And that’s fine; you convinced yourself it was completely fine because you chose it.

"Shug, what’s your routine?" he asked again, desperate for a piece of information. You hadn’t answered calls, and your grandparents had wiped you off the map. They’d cut you off from everything you knew to get their beloved granddaughter (who they’d once seen as an angel until that moment) back on track. Whatever, so you had to collect a little plastic and paper in Kentucky. So there were more racists there than you'd expected in any place. So someone once called you a "filthy Jew" for asking him not to throw his can on the ground. So what? Your grandparents had been through far worse. And they’re fine. You helped a friend, and he’s fine. You’re fine, too. Everyone knows you’re fine.

"I'm working, and this year I'll start college, so it’s like I took a gap year- no big deal." You shrugged. "Are you starting Stanford this year?" Art straightened up for a moment, the spark in his eyes rekindling. He couldn’t believe everything could just be left behind. That everything was working out like this. That he only had to wait a year, and it would all be behind you. "Oh, I gave up on Stanford. I don’t really vibe with California," you said, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if your grandfather hadn’t tried to convince the university administration to take you back despite the criminal record. "Fuck, (Y/N)," he started pacing back and forth, unable to believe the nonchalant tone coming out of your mouth.

"Art, it’s not a big deal." You put the second cigarette in your mouth, unable to stand this conversation any longer. "How is it not a big deal? Your life was ruined," he wanted to shake you, wanted you to get mad at him. To hate him, even if just for a moment. "I lov-" "Don’t say that," you cut him off, taking a step back. "Why not, Shug? You know it’s true. You know that I-" he tried again, more determined this time. "You don’t love me. you feel guilty, but there’s no reason, Artie. Really, there isn’t," you tried to convince him. "I told you to leave. You didn’t ask. I wanted it to be exactly like this. I wanted you to go to Stanford. You dreamed of Stanford," you nodded toward him as you spoke, trying to project confidence instead of the fragility you felt inside. "We dreamed of Stanford," he stopped pacing and stood in front of you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Tell me about Stanford," you said softly, feeling your tears well up, almost betraying you and the resolve you tried to uphold. "So many people. Most of the time, I don’t know where I fit. But Tashi’s there, Patrick’s girlfriend." He paused, taking a breath, and you could see he was fighting his own tears. "Tell me more," you asked. "The courses are hard. I’m not good at most of the subjects, not like you. I’ve never played tennis at this level." He continued, "You’d love the library. I’m lost there. No one is kind enough to help me find a book." You both chuckled, too afraid to move. "What else?" you asked, almost desperate for more details. "I ranked first at Stanford by the end of the season. Maybe next season they’ll want me to start a campaign, go pro. Nike reached out." He said, watching you, seeing your smile grow.

"That’s amazing, Art. It’s everything we wanted." And it really was everything you wanted for him. He was exceptional. You always knew he was exceptional. He’d walk into a room, and the room would skip a beat. Almost fall silent. Sometimes you wondered if it was the room or just you. "It’s not all I wanted," he returned. And you both knew what he meant. "You’re going to leave a mark on America, Donaldson. You’re going to be the biggest thing to come out of here. You’re going to change American tennis. Ten years from now, little kids will have your poster on their walls." You smiled at him, as he brushed a rough but gentle hand against your cheek, wiping away the tear that managed to escape.

"And you? Where will you be in ten years?" he asked, and in response, you pulled him into a hug. Because maybe you lost a lot over the past year, but it was worth it. You didn’t know what your dreams were, the ones you had felt so trivial and small. Like eating pineapple for dinner, learning all the lyrics to Linkin Park songs by heart, managing to read three books a week, loving Art Donaldson. While your small dreams sometimes flickered to life, Art Donaldson's dreams would change the world, and that was such a clearly humbling thought that no one would ever understand.

The sad truth is that everything you once told him about your dreams and hopes doesn’t matter anymore. Everything you shared about who you wanted to be flipped over to help him become who he wanted to be. And that’s okay. Really okay. Soon Art Donaldson would be everyone’s and no one’s at the same time, and in ten years, he would be where he was meant to be, and you would be someone he once knew, someone who told him secrets he wouldn’t remember. . . . As you walked back into the hall, leaving him behind and wondering how smudged your mascara was, you remembered to stand tall. maybe it will help a little.

Hey there, so here we are with the saddest thing I could possibly write. It's lacking any smut, so sorry for that. I guess it's the only mood I could deliver to the table LOL I'd like to hear your thoughts as always ❤️

#challengers fic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #challengers #angst #I told you things

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thedoctorisgroovy · 3 months ago

Note

I come bearing a request!

Spencer Reid x Male reader who's just joined the BAU, but suffers from mild hallucinations. It's not enough to impede on their ability to work, but they still keep it a secret and don't get it diagnosed out of fear of losing his job or being treated differently by the team.

But then Spencer notices him taking pictures of empty spaces to confirm they're actually empty or maybe even talking himself down from an episode when he thinks no one's around. a nice little hurt comfort yknow?

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you like it! It got a little away from me and is longer than I planned hahah. I ended up writing this in first person, so even though it's x reader it's a lot of "I did etc." Use of he/him pronouns, readers describes themself as a crazy man at one point. 18+ MDNI! Spencer is a sweetie in this, I wanna give reader a hug.

Warnings: proceed with caution please, mention of schizophrenia (reference to Diana), physical hallucinations, creature type hallucinations, reader is afraid but also makes jokes about their condition, spencer's addiction issue, mention of dilaudid use, mention of injection, angst, HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!.

Words: 1,285

I stood in the elevator, heart pounding and sweating slightly trying to calm myself down after the difficult morning I had been faced with. My “friends”- as I call them - had decided to join me during my morning routine and send my mind into chaos and fear. I’d only been with the BAU for a few weeks and hadn’t quite settled into the confusing hours of when to eat or sleep, so my morning was filled with rushing around trying to get ready for the day. It started off as fleeting movement out the corner of my eye, which I tried to ignore. I was used to the peripheral figures, and groaned sarcastically trying to show my brain that I wasn’t interested this morning.

“What? I’m busy!” I shouted towards nothing in particular, hoping my brain would get the message. It wasn’t until I turned towards the mirror by the door, checking that I was presentable before leaving. All it took was the grin appearing behind me in the mirror before grabbing my bag and bolting out the front door, essentially running down the street to work.

I pushed the glass door to the bullpen open and froze in my tracks, seeing the figure sat at my desk chair, grinning at me. I turned and sprinted down the hall, looking for somewhere, anywhere safe to hide. I barrelled into a filing closet, slammed the door behind me and slid down the wall opposite, tucking my knees into my chest and rocking to self soothe. There was a determined but light knocking at the door and I heard Spencer call my name. I didn’t respond - couldn’t respond at first, convinced that it wasn’t him. It was whatever that thing was trying to trick me.

“How do I know it’s really you?!” I shouted out, the panic in my voice apparent.

“You once told the team that your favourite movie is Star Wars: A New Hope, but you later told me that it’s actually Disney’s The Lion King you just didn’t want to admit it to everyone.” He affirmed through the door, luckily convincing my brain enough to allow him entry. I mumbled through sobs that he could come in and he flew towards me, shutting the door a little too forcefully by accident.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. You’re safe, it’s just me and you here.” Spencer soothed gently, crouching down to my eye level and placing his hand on my knee. We sat for a few minutes in silence while I tried to regulate my breathing, him rubbing small circles on my knee. When the panic had subsided, Spencer spoke up again.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on? You don’t have to, but you’d be surprised at the things I’ve dealt with myself.” I laughed quietly at his statement. Not because I was surprised or to be dismissive but because I did actually believe him. In the brief time I had spent with him - talking with him around the bullpen and being partnered on cases together - there was something in his eyes that showed a similar depth and pain to my own. Even though I barely knew Spencer, I felt like I could trust him. He seemed like the kind of person to take your secrets to his grave if you needed him to. If anyone on the team was to understand, he would. I sniffed and tried to steady myself, placing my hands flat on the cold tiled floor. I used the sharpness of the cold stinging my hands to ground myself and muster up some courage to explain what was going on. I tried to meet his eyes but in one swift flick, shame took over my body and forced my gaze down into my lap instead.

“I see things.. sometimes. I don’t know what they’re called or why, but I do. And they scare the shit out of me, man! I know I’m supposed to be this big tough FBI agent who takes down the bad guys, but when the bad guys are in my head too, it freaks me out.” I laugh again almost incredulously, not believing that I’m admitting this out loud and that to Spencer, I must’ve looked like a crazy man just ranting at his crotch. I tried once more to look up at him, and was met with his head tilted 45 degrees in confusion but compassion in his eyes.

“I’ve never been diagnosed with anything or told anyone because I didn’t wanna blow my chance at getting this job, or lose it once I got it. I’ve been therapy a few times in the past and they said it was due to childhood trauma that I can’t remember. I’m not crazy Reid I promise. And it doesn’t affect my job, it just gets overwhelming sometimes. Please man, you can’t tell Emily or the others.” I pleaded with him, tears starting to form again, breath hitching in my throat. Spencer switched from crouching to cross legged on the floor.

“You know, many years ago, I was kidnapped by an Unsub. His name was Tobias Hankel. He tortured me by injecting me with a narcotic called Dilaudid and it made me hallucinate. I was addicted to it and even though the hallucinations scared or upset me, I couldn’t stop. So even though it’s not the same, I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind. My mother has schizophrenia and I was afraid for many years that I would develop it too. I saw how she suffered and she didn’t want to get help, but she did and she’s doing better now.” He paused, stopping himself from rambling.

“I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.” Wow. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d dealt with a lot. His words caused an emotional rollercoaster to unlock inside my head. Grateful that he understood, pity that he dealt with such harsh things, hopeful that because he and his mother were healthy that I could be too, and vulnerable after exposing my truth. His question brought me back down to earth.

“Is this why you’ve been taking pictures around the room sometimes?” He asked softly - almost in a whisper but inquisitively. I nodded solemnly and sighed.

“It’s to prove to myself that there’s nothing there. If my eyes see it but the camera doesn’t, then it’s in my head.” Spencer thought for a moment before speaking.

“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” I rolled my eyes at him, ever the pragmatist. “I won’t tell Emily or anyone else if you promise me to get some sort of help. I don’t believe you’re crazy, but this is clearly upsetting you and as my friend I don’t want to see you hurting. If you end up getting a diagnosis or medication, we’ll cross that bridge together when it comes okay? But for now, I can help you find someone professional to talk to.” He stood up and stretched his legs quickly before extending his hand towards me and pulled me up into a hug. I wasn’t used to hugs from the team, let alone self proclaimed germaphobe Spencer, but I allowed myself to relax into it. We left the filing closet and returned to our desks, pretending that nothing had happened. He rummaged through his desk, pulling out a singular business card and leaning over to drop it in front of me. ”Dr Katherine Reynolds. MD - Therapist.”

We exchanged smiles before attending to the mountain of paperwork awaiting completion. The “friends” I’d made may not go away any time soon, but I was happy to add Spencer to my list of positive ones.

#ask #fic request #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #bau!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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oddinary4bts · 2 years ago

Text

Sinful Lust | myg & jjk

☆summary: in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: mostly smut. a tiny little bit of angst if you squint real hard. an open-ending if I decide to make this into a full fic, snippets of life!au

☆warnings: cursing, alcohol, pet names, explicit content: lingerie set, threesome, dom!jk, sub!yoongi (with a tiny little bit of switch maybe), switch!reader, consent bc consent is important!, oral sex (female and male receiving, male on male, female on male and male on female), Jungkook has a praise kink, dirty (filthy) talking, hair pulling, jerking off, tits play, ass slapping, ass biting, deep throating, clit play, fingering, pussy slapping, ass eating, ass fingering, unprotected sex (please use protection irl), big dick!jungkook, finger sucking, mouth fucking, edging (sorry yoongi), anal sex, double penetration, choking, aftercare (none for jungkook :( )

☆word count: 10.4k

☆a/n: Yeah so. This is pure filth. I am sorry. I lost control of myself and... yeah. No regrets though. I hope you’ll enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it hahaha. Thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: also, I switched up my writing style a little for this one bc I wanted to try something new, so my bad if it’s trash. And another thing that’s worth mentioning: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆series masterpost

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

If there is one thing you have figured out about your boyfriend, it’s that he likes men just as much as women. Has probably never really indulged into his fantasies with the male gender, but you know he desires it, in the deep dark corners of his heart.

You know he has a thing for one of his younger friends. And you can’t blame Yoongi – Jungkook is a source of fantasies even for you. With the sleeve of tattoos, piercings, and his new motorcycle, you’re pretty sure Jeon Jungkook is the initiator of a lot of fantasies in the people surrounding him. Because Jungkook is sinfully beautiful, with his long hair and muscular body. An image of lust and desire.

Yoongi is sitting across from you. Eyes lost in his book, with a strand of his long hair actually hiding his gaze from you. He hasn’t noticed you worrying at your bottom lip, or the way you have been tightening your thighs together for the last minute. You have a clear image in mind: him, going down on Jungkook. And you know Yoongi will say yes if you ask.

Indeed, he’s never refused you anything when it comes to sex. He’s happy to indulge in your own fantasies, and finds pleasure in seeing you come undone. Maybe it’s time you find pleasure in seeing him come undone.

“Yoons”, you breathe.

It’s whiny, the way you say it. Yet he keeps his attention on his book, mouth falling open. “Uh?”

“Is there something you would like to do?”

He looks infinitely confused, and his eyes finally flit to yours. “Right now?”

You nod, tilting your head to the side until it rests against the couch. Your eyes are dark, lustful, and you bash your eyelashes for him.

He immediately gets the meaning.

“Oh.” He puts his bookmark in place, before dropping the book on the coffee table. “Isn’t Jungkook supposed to drop off some stuff later?”

All part of the plan. Jungkook went on a trip to another country a few weeks ago and bought alcohol for you and Yoongi. He’s supposed to drop it off after dinner, and you can’t help the wandering thoughts in your head.

“Yeah?” you let out, sighing heavily.

With a little bit of dramatic effect too, maybe.

“What’s up with you?” Yoongi asks, and there’s the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It’s been established in your relationship that Yoongi is bisexual. So you don’t feel a tug of regret when you say, “Would you ever be interested in having sex with a man?”

A confused line appears between his eyebrows. “While dating you? I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

You keep silent, wetting your lips, and it takes him a moment for him to understand that that’s not what you meant.

“Oh”, he lets out again. He chuckles, and the smirk reappears on his lips. “What has been troubling your thoughts, sunshine?”

“I know you want it”, you simply state.

He’s not stupid enough to deny it, so he remains silent.

“What do you think about a threesome?” you ask.

At that he ponders for a time. “I don’t know if I’d like sharing you with someone else.”

You had expected that answer. But you know what to say to convince him otherwise. “What do you think about Jungkook?”

You don’t miss the light flush that moves on Yoongi’s cheeks. It’s echoed on your own cheeks.

“What about him?”

You cock an eyebrow, because Yoongi knows just as well as you what you’re implying.

“He’d never say yes.”

Your fingers travel up to your lips, and you pinch the bottom one between your index and thumb. You think for a time. Yoongi is not wrong. You have no idea how you’d convince Jungkook to do something like that. Even if Jungkook is the type to sleep around a lot, you don’t know if he’s ever done anything similar.

More than that, you don’t know if he’d be willing to have sex with one of his friends. But Jungkook… Always willing to offer a helping hand Jungkook… You’re pretty sure he’d do anything for one of his hyungs.

“There’s no hurt in asking”, you point out.

Yoongi folds his arms on his chest. “It could make our friendship pretty awkward.”

You have an inkling Jungkook won’t say no though. So you offer your best puppy eyes to Yoongi.

He chuckles, and shakes his head. But you know by the blush that hasn’t left his cheeks that Yoongi is just as willing as you are to ask.

Maybe he’s been thinking about it himself, you wonder.

You figure you should prepare, if you’re to ask Jungkook tonight. Yoongi helps, and you realize he’s a lot touchier than he usually is. Kissing your neck while he’s hugging you from behind, pressing you against him. It’s his way of saying thank you. You know he probably won’t voice the words, but he’s the man you love.

You know him well enough after all.

The hours tick by slowly, and when you hear the doorbell ring you both startle. You look at Yoongi, and he offers you no salvation. You’re the one that will have to ask.

You make your way to the door, opening it to reveal Jungkook. He’s just as attractive as ever, with his oversized black t-shirt that hides the upper part of his sleeve of tattoos. You drink in the sight, offering him a warm smile as he greets you with his bunny grin.

“Hey Jungkook”, you reply, and you open the door wider for him.

He doesn’t hesitate, stepping in and around you. “Yoongi-hyung!” he says as a way of greeting your boyfriend.

Yoongi has moved closer, and he grabs the bottle of whiskey Jungkook has brought back from Scotland. You notice your boyfriend looks a little uncomfortable, but Jungkook’s eyes have already moved back to you.

“How was the trip?” you ask as you close the door behind him, leaning against it.

Jungkook is holding his biker helmet in one hand. Your thoughts provide you with an image of him riding the motorcycle, and it’s all you can do not to bite your lips.

“It was awesome”, he says. “Road tripping around Great Britain was way more fun than I thought it would be.”

You cock your head to the side prettily. “Was it?”

Jungkook nods, and his eyes dip on your frame. You think he hasn’t noticed the way you’re dressed before, because his eyes widen a little.

You’re wearing jeans, with a set of lingerie under a shirt. Your oversized white dress shirt probably hid it at first, but Jungkook’s gaze takes a while before moving back up to your face.

You’re pretty sure it has gotten a shade darker by the time he meets your gaze again.

“It was”, he replies. He glances at Yoongi, probably wondering if the scorching look you’ve been eyeing him with is normal, or if something’s wrong with Yoongi.

Yoongi is still holding the whiskey bottle, and he raises it a little. “Want a glass?”

Jungkook is a smart man. He doesn’t always let it show, but you know those big, doe eyes of his notice everything. You almost think you won’t even have to ask out loud. He’s already connected the dots by the time he looks back at you.

“I hoped you’d ask.” The words are said in a lower tone than the voice he usually uses. It feels intimate, and a drop of warmth moves down your spine.

“You’ve gone so far to get it for us, it’s only normal we offer some to thank you.”

He gulps. You know he’s fighting internal demons right now, trying not to gaze down at your breasts again. So you push up from the door, walking around Jungkook, close enough for your arm to brush his.

“Why don’t you come in?” you say over your shoulder, as you make your way to the kitchen to get glasses.

You and Yoongi form a great team. Because by the time you join them in the living room, Jungkook is sitting on one end of the couch, and Yoongi is turning on some ambient music. Nothing too high-key, because you don’t want to scare Jungkook away.

You need to make sure he wants this too, even if he probably has connected the dots already.

You put the glasses down on the coffee table next to Yoongi’s book before grabbing the whiskey bottle. Before you open it, you kneel down, sitting on your heels. That way when you pour Jungkook will have a direct view of your cleavage. You take your time pouring, feeling the burn of his gaze on your curves.

“Isn’t she pretty?” Yoongi comments.

He’s bold. Bolder than you thought he would be. But he always does when he becomes horny, and you know your offer has made him hornier than you’ve seen him in a while.

Jungkook tears his gaze away from you, almost reluctantly. He seems to hesitate for a time, and if he hasn’t really caught up to the vibe, he sure has now.

“I’ve always told you your girlfriend is gorgeous”, he agrees.

Yoongi has a smirk playing on his lips, but he remains silent as you finish pouring the glasses. You grab one of them, taking a small sip of the burning liquid. You let it roll on your tongue before swallowing slowly. You keep your neck arched a little, just so Jungkook can see your throat work as you swallow.

He shifts on the couch a little, spreading his muscular thighs open.

“It tastes so good”, you purr.

Jungkook’s lips part open, and he catches a breath. “Does it?”

He’s always looked like the dominant kind. From the stories he’s told you both, you know he is. But if you want to really pleasure Yoongi tonight, you have to make sure you stay in control.

“Taste it yourself”, you say, wetting your lips as you slowly get up.

You keep the same glass you just drank in, and you walk around the coffee table to offer it to Jungkook. He glances at Yoongi as you do, and Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, smiling at his friend.

Jungkook grabs the glass you hand him. You don’t let it go right away, and you smirk as Jungkook looks up at you. He plays with his piercing, before offering you a dashing smile. You let go of the glass and watch him as he takes a sip.

He swallows just as well as you just did.

Your smirk turns satisfied, and you turn back around to grab the two other glasses. You give one to Yoongi, and then you sit next to him. Your boyfriend wraps an arm around your shoulder until you’ve molded yourself perfectly at his side. He moves your hair behind your shoulder, before kissing the spot on your neck over the collar of your shirt.

You tilt your head to the side, offering him better access as he sucks on the skin, and you never gaze away from Jungkook.

You’re pretty sure he hasn’t blinked in a few minutes now.

“We’ve been thinking”, you say as Yoongi presses a wet kiss on your neck before pulling away, observing the mark he put on your skin. “We have to thank you properly.”

Jungkook shifts a little again, and if you didn’t want to keep the eye contact you would look down at his lap to see if he’s already aroused. He bites at his piercing, and his gaze moves from you to Yoongi, before resting on you again. “A glass is plenty enough.”

You know he’s lying. His voice is husky, low. You’ve never heard him speaking like that before and it only makes you want him more.

Want him for Yoongi too.

“We can offer you a lot more”, Yoongi says. He shifts too, and you know he’s already hard. You decide to be bold, and you let your free hand fall to his lap. It rests on the top of his thigh, and you gently pat him.

“We sure can”, you echo. You wet your lips, though Jungkook is looking at where you’re touching Yoongi. You don’t miss the flash of envy that moves on his features. “If you want to.”

You’re not sure if he expected you to ask for explicit consent. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, before knocking back his glass and drinking the whole of it.

Anticipation builds up in your core as his dark eyes find your face again. He’s smirking, and it’s a dangerous look on his features. You’re pretty sure he can consume both you and Yoongi if he wants to.

“If I want what?”

He’s teasing. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, and it only burns brighter as your hand moves to Yoongi’s dick. You palm him through his jeans, and Yoongi rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder. Probably because he’s growing shy, and he’s afraid Jungkook is going to refuse.

“We could make you feel good”, you purr. You palm Yoongi harder. “Couldn’t we, baby?”

He moans against the back of your shoulder, and you let a dangerous smirk of your own move on your lips.

“Pretty sure that meant yes.”

Jungkook shifts. This time your eyes betray you and they fall to the bulge that has already appeared in his pants. He looks big, but you quickly move your gaze back up to his face.

“You guys want to fuck me?”

Jungkook is crude. You didn’t expect that from him, yet it suits him well. It suits his fuckboy persona far more than you thought it would. But it also explains why he’s been able to sleep around like that – he knows what he’s doing.

Yoongi looks up from your shoulder at that. He surprises you with his next words. “We want to show you how you’ve been good for us.”

Yoongi is not the dominant type. It happens, sometimes, and you didn’t think it’d come out when you’d be with Jungkook. You’re happy it has though, because Jungkook loses the dark look. It turns into want, unexpectedly, and it makes you understand one thing: he has a praise kink.

“Such a good boy, who bought whiskey for us. Right, Yoons?”

Yoongi sinks his teeth into your shoulder. It takes you by surprise, and you let out a small moan. Jungkook watches carefully, putting his glass down on the coffee table. You drink from yours, never breaking eye contact, a little like you did earlier.

It works just as well, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook shifts purposefully closer to you. He’s not close enough for you to touch, but you can tell he wants it.

“You’re going to jerk him off in front of me?” he asks.

He’s figured out the dynamic of sex between you and Yoongi, hasn’t he? He knows you’re the dominant one, and something about it makes him want to dominate Yoongi with you.

Jungkook is right where you want him to be.

“I might”, you say innocently. “Would you like that?”

You cock your head to the side, and Yoongi goes back to sucking a mark on your skin. It makes your focus on Jungkook waver a little, and heat pools at your core.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to know for a time. He’s probably never been in a situation like that before. But he finds the strength to smirk, nodding once. “I wonder what kind of sounds hyung makes when he comes.”

Yoongi bucks his hips, searching for more friction. Jungkook is turning him on far quicker than you usually do.

“Then why don’t you help me get him out of his pants?”

The question takes Jungkook aback. He didn’t expect you’d want him to participate in pleasuring Yoongi, didn’t he?

He wets his lips, his tongue playing with his piercing for a time, before he replies. “I’m not sure what you want me to do.” He looks like he wants to please though.

“Why don’t you get on your knees in front of him?”

Jungkook’s mouth is parted. He doesn’t know what to do, but he watches you bite your lower lip, before nodding once again. While he positions himself, you take the glass of whiskey out of Yoongi’s hand, before putting it along with yours on the coffee table. It brings Jungkook very close to you and you freeze as he grabs your jaw. His face is inches away from yours when he says, “Can I at least kiss you before I suck his dick?” Because he knows that’s what you want. He understood as soon as you suggested him kneeling in front of Yoongi.

Yoongi’s breathing grows louder. Jungkook lets you turn your head towards your boyfriend. You make sure Yoongi is willing, cocking an eyebrow in question. He pats your back, sitting back on the couch to watch.

Your eyes trail back to Jungkook, and you see him swallow once as you close the distance between the two of you, one hand landing on the nape of his neck to bring him closer. He kisses you slower than you expected, and his piercing presses an indent into your lips. When he swipes at your bottom lip with his tongue, you open your mouth.

Jungkook is a good kisser. It takes you aback, and you moan in his mouth. The moan turns to a pained whimper when Yoongi grabs your hair and pulls you back.

“Enough”, he says.

You think he’s angry, but you only notice that he’s freed his dick from his pants while you were kissing Jungkook. And he’s slowly stroking it. For a second, you bite your lip, wanting to dive down and wrap your lips around his tip, but you resist.

The goal is to get Jungkook to suck his dick, not you.

Jungkook seems taken aback. He’s breathing heavily, lips parted as his eyes avoid Yoongi’s dick. He looks at your boyfriend’s thighs, at his face, but he clearly ignores the dick that’s standing prettily about a foot in front of his face.

“Don’t be shy”, you encourage him.

Jungkook blushes a little, and his eyes settle on you. “I’ve never done this before.”

The little bit of insecurity that shines on his face takes you by surprise. You gently cup his cheek, glancing back at Yoongi once before you focus on Jungkook.

“You’re so good at everything”, you praise. He swallows, listening to you intently. “Show me that you can be good at this too.”

When you pull him closer to Yoongi’s dick, Jungkook doesn’t resist. He follows your lead, until his mouth is but an inch away from your boyfriend’s cock. Yoongi is holding it up, and he’s watching Jungkook with round eyes.

You can tell he’s wanted this for a while by the bead of precum that sits on the slit.

“Why don’t you lick it first, mmh?” you encourage Jungkook. “So you can get a taste.”

He gulps, and his eyes flutter shut as he obeys. Yoongi sucks in a breath as Jungkook licks at his slit, hesitantly at first. But then he seems to steel himself, and he swirls his tongue around the tip of Yoongi’s dick once, then twice.

You can tell Yoongi’s aching to grab the back of Jungkook’s head so he can fuck his mouth by the way his grip on you tightens. It hurts a little, but you’re fascinated. You can’t look away as Jungkook wraps his lips around the head, sucking once.

Yoongi hisses, before letting out a low, “Shibal”.

You think the word is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard Yoongi say before.

“See, you make him feel so good already”, you praise Jungkook, and he lets out a small moan.

He likes it. That much you can tell. He really does, because one of his hands replaces Yoongi’s at the base of his dick. That frees your boyfriend’s hands, and it doesn’t take him long to pull you in a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. You suck on his tongue and swallow the moans he lets out as Jungkook starts bobbing his head up and down. Slowly at first, then finding a rhythm that seems to be comfortable.

Probably because Yoongi has moved one hand to Jungkook’s hair, and he’s guiding him down on his dick. It’s your turn to moan now, and you go back to kissing Yoongi.

He’s panting, trying to focus on your lips, but some part of you tells you he wants to look at Jungkook. So you pull away and sure enough Yoongi’s eyelids shoot open, and his gaze glues to where Jungkook is working on him.

Jungkook is holding your boyfriend’s cock up with his tattooed hand. His long fingers make Yoongi seem smaller than he looks in your own hand, but you know your boyfriend stretches you well enough. You already think about fucking yourself on his dick, using Jungkook’s spit as lube…

You need friction, and soon. You quickly shrug off the cotton dress shirt. Jungkook opens his eyes, and his gaze trails to you. He drinks you in as you palm one of your breasts through the lingerie. It makes you feel hot, even though he’s currently almost choking on your boyfriend’s dick.

Especially as Yoongi bucks his hips, and he hits the back of Jungkook’s throat. You’re surprised to hear Jungkook moan, and for a time you think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve heard in your life.

You’ve unbuttoned your pants by the time Jungkook has blinked some tears away, and you’re pulling them down your legs when he sits back on his heels to catch his breath.

Yoongi is a mess. Head thrown back against the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down each time he swallows or gulps. You’re pretty sure he could finish like that, but you want to give him more.

“You’re so good”, you praise Jungkook. “You could make him come like that.”

Jungkook slowly jerks Yoongi off while his eyes trace every curve of your body, as if you’re a piece of art he has yet to understand. He doesn’t seem like he wants Yoongi to come down his throat, and you’re not sure you can blame him. But still he looks at the two of you with fire in his gaze. He doesn’t want to stop either, and you watch him battle conflicted emotions for a time.

“But aren’t we supposed to be the ones making you feel good?” you add, offering him salvation.

“I feel good”, he admits, and he flushes deep red.

You smirk, playing with your tit again. You pinch your nipple through the fabric, brows almost touching as you let out a small moan. Jungkook has stopped jerking off Yoongi by now, and you look down at your boyfriend’s dick. He’s leaking precum, and you bite on your lip.

“Do you think I should suck him too?” you ask. Before Jungkook can reply, you turn your attention to Yoongi. He’s already looking at you through half-lidded eyes. “Will you be a good boy and not come down my throat, mmh?”

Yoongi doesn’t seem like he can even think coherent thoughts. Still he nods, mostly because he’s probably on the verge of an orgasm and he has no sanity left.

You look at Jungkook. He’s sat back on his heels, and he’s palming himself through his pants. The bulge has grown a lot more by now, and you weren’t wrong before: he clearly has a huge dick.

You salivate at the thought, knowing just how well it matches his large frame. You wonder if he tastes like your boyfriend. You’re not sure Yoongi would like you doing that; he’s shown a little possessiveness earlier when you were kissing Jungkook. So you focus on taking off your jeans for now. The fabric feels too tight against your skin, and you need them off before you start blowing Yoongi’s dick.

Jungkook watches you, as does your boyfriend. You’re stuck not really knowing what to do next. Because both men clearly want something from you. You’re surprised when Yoongi speaks up.

“Do you want to taste her too?” he asks.

Your eyes widen a little, and Jungkook gulps once. “If you don’t mind.”

“She’s got the sweetest taste, of course I don’t mind.”

You meet Yoongi’s gaze. You realize he’s doing this for you. He knows you find Jungkook attractive too, and he’s ready to give you what you want.

It makes you love him even more. So you go in for a kiss, kneeling next to Yoongi.

You startle when Jungkook slaps your ass. “Why don’t you get in a position where I can eat you out while you take my place at hyung’s dick, mmh?”

You almost forgot Jungkook is more on the dominant side too. If you weren’t already soaking through the lingerie, you know his words would have made you drip.

You obey him, mostly because you’re afraid Yoongi’s going to change his mind. But your boyfriend doesn’t seem like he will, and he offers you a sweet smile and a nod of his head to indicate that he wants this just as much as you do.

You stop hesitating. While you get on all fours, Yoongi finishes taking off his pants and underwear. His skin is red where the pants have been tight against his skin, and you massage his thighs mindlessly while Jungkook moves.

He takes off his shirt, and you’re pretty sure both you and Yoongi have frozen as he stands next to you, the hard planes of his body making both of you salivate. Jungkook works out a lot, and the results are satisfying, giving him a body you could spend hours admiring. He looks like a perfect Greek god, and you’re struck dumb. It doesn’t last long, because he quickly moves behind you, sitting on the couch until his face is at a level with your raised ass.

Before you have a chance to turn and focus on Yoongi’s dick, Jungkook bites in your ass, hard, and then sucks on the skin.

He’s been dying to leave a mark on you too since he saw Yoongi do it, hasn’t he? It makes you moan, and as your pussy clenches around nothing, you grab Yoongi’s cock by the base to bring it up to your mouth. And you’re relentless, sucking him just how you know he likes it. You’re probably better than Jungkook, just because you know how to please Yoongi like the back of your hand, and his cock hardens in your mouth.

You know Yoongi could come just like that. But he told you he wouldn’t, and you trust him. So you give him your best, taking as much of him in as you can, keeping the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat. One of your hands starts playing with his balls, with just the right pressure, and you moan around his cock loudly when Jungkook cups your pussy through the lingerie set.

“She’s soaked”, he tells Yoongi.

Yoongi chuckles. “She’s probably dying to be fucked.”

Oh the little shit. Jungkook slaps your ass again, and it stings. “I assume you’ll be the one to fuck her.”

“Don’t think she can take both of us at the same time.”

Listening to them talk about fucking you like that is making you forget what you’re supposed to do. You make to pull away, but then someone holds your head in place.

“We didn’t say you could stop.”

It’s Jungkook. And as he holds you down, Yoongi starts fucking up in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. If you weren’t busy choking around the dick in your mouth, you’d hear the sound of kissing.

Indeed, Yoongi pulled Jungkook into a kiss, and surprisingly enough Jungkook didn’t resist. No, he’s been enjoying this far more than he expected he would.

You blink back tears as Yoongi keeps hitting the back of your throat. It’s not your first time doing something like this, though Yoongi is usually softer with you. It seems bringing Jungkook into the action has changed him, because he’s relentless, fucking your mouth hard.

You don’t care. Not a single bit, because Jungkook has pulled the lingerie set to the side, just enough for two of his long fingers to start drawing circles on your clit. You moan, and the sound is echoed by a grunt from Yoongi.

“You’re two messes”, Jungkook says as he dips his fingers inside of you up to the first knuckle. He’s collecting your juice, and a second later he’s back to drawing quick circles on your clit. “Begging to be fucked by me.”

The moan Yoongi lets out this time is higher pitched. More like a whine, and you choke around his dick as he thrusts up hard. You would pull away if you didn’t know Jungkook is going to force you back down. Right now, you want him to pleasure you, and you move back a little, seeking for friction on his hand.

He pulls the hand away, before slapping your pussy hard. You whine around Yoongi’s cock, and your boyfriend grabs a handful of your hair. You can imagine him, with his head thrown back on the couch. Not knowing where to look between you and Jungkook. And apart from the light touch of his fingers on your clit, you don’t know what Jungkook is doing. Is he touching himself, or is he watching Yoongi? Is he discovering he might like this more than he expected, or is he searching for a way out?

“Should I get her ready for us, hyung?”

The little brat. You know your boyfriend will feel intimidated by having to dominate you with someone else. But still, Yoongi says, “You sucked my dick, it’s only fair I let you fuck my girl”.

You’re not sure if it’s fair. But thinking about Jungkook fucking you with Yoongi… it makes you go haywire. You dig your nails in Yoongi’s thigh, where you’ve been holding yourself up for a moment after you stopped playing with his balls. He hisses in pain, but you’re swirling your tongue around his tip, playing with his frenulum just the way he likes.

Jungkook is silent for a time. He moves his fingers from your clit to your entrance, circling it once to collect more juice. But then instead of moving back down to your clit, he moves up, and your pussy clenches as his fingers play with the circle of muscle of your asshole.

“Have you ever been fucked by two guys at the same time?” he asks. You don’t know if he wants an answer, so you keep sucking your boyfriend. Jungkook slaps your ass again, and his fingers go back to your clit.

You understand his question was rhetorical when something very wet replaces his fingers on your ass. His tongue. He uses it to play with the ring of muscle, even going all the way as to dip his tongue inside. You want to reach back and touch him, but you can’t let go of your boyfriend.

Not when Yoongi is using your mouth like this.

The fingers Jungkook has been using on your clit move back to your entrance once again. This time, he dips them in, deep, without a moment of hesitation. You clench around him and he spreads the fingers, fighting against your walls. This time, you pull away to moan, face falling on your boyfriend’s stomach as you jerk him off quickly, holding his dick tight in your grip.

Yoongi’s shirt is clinging to him, sweaty from the action. Though he’s mostly just been benefiting from what you and Jungkook do, you know his heart has been beating out of his chest. You raise your head to look at him, but he’s busy looking at Jungkook. It makes you glance back, and you think you could almost come watching Jungkook work on you like that.

Jungkook has his eyes closed, brows knit together as if he’s in deep focus. You can only see the top of his face from where he’s eating your ass, and his fingers make squelching sounds as they fuck into your pussy.

You’re so wet you’re almost convinced you could take both of the men in your pussy. The thought makes you moan, a pornographic sound that makes Jungkook’s eyes open. He pulls away, and he slaps your ass as you just stare at him.

“Why are you not sucking hyung anymore?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he observes you with that dark lustful gaze of his. “You can’t focus?”

As he says the words, he fucks his fingers harder into you, and the knuckles of his other fingers almost hurt as they hit the soft flesh on both sides of your pussy. You can tell you’ll be sore once Jungkook is done with you. Once Yoongi is done with you too.

Your nails once again dig in Yoongi’s thigh, and he quickly grabs your hand to move it away. He puts it back on his balls, and you massage gently, not wanting to hurt him. You try to straighten, but Jungkook puts a hand on the top of your back, shoving you down towards your boyfriend’s dick.

“Be a good girl and suck him, baby, he’s been so good to us both.”

You obey, and your tongue is back on Yoongi in no time, tasting the salty precum that keeps leaking from his cock. Jungkook laps at your hole once again, and it’s a new feeling. You’ve never done that before, but he knows what he’s doing. So much so that you’re barely surprised when he dips his thumb in your ass, pushing hard against the tight ring of muscle until your hole has swallowed all of his digit.

You could come soon. You’re pretty sure if you focus just for a few seconds, you’ll be coming all around Jungkook’s fingers. But you don’t want to come just yet, you want to enjoy every little jolt of electricity Jungkook pulls from you.

Maybe your lack of attention on Yoongi has given him back his thoughts, because your boyfriend grabs one of your breasts in his large hand, his grip tight. You reward him by swallowing his dick whole, letting your throat work around his head.

You’re becoming more wet with every movement of Jungkook’s fingers inside of you. So much so that he adds a third one with ease, stretching you wide open. You don’t even know who he’s trying to get you ready for: Yoongi, or himself?

You don’t care. You want both of them to fuck you.

But you want a little control too, you want to know what’s happening. As Jungkook fucks his digits inside of you, you pull away from Yoongi’s cock.

“Jungkook, why don’t you finish undressing?”

He stops moving, probably not expecting you to still be vocal. But he obeys you, mostly because his dick has been straining against his pants for a while. You can’t imagine it being comfortable.

While he undresses, you climb on Yoongi’s lap, your back facing him. You grab his dick, holding it up long enough so you can sink onto it, and you moan breathlessly as you go as far deep as you can, until all of him is gripped in all of you. You clench around him, and his large hands find your waist as he grunts.

And while you’re fucking yourself on Yoongi, you turn to look at Jungkook. He’s even more beautiful than you imagined he’d be: his cock is huge, definitely larger than your boyfriend. You almost think you won’t be able to take him in, but something about the way he smiles devilishly tells you he knows how to get you all ready for him. His dick has a large vein that goes from the base all the way to the tip. You want to run your tongue on it, but he’s sitting a little too far again, muscular thighs spread wide as he strokes his cock lazily.

His eyes follow you as you move up and down on Yoongi, and your boyfriend’s fingers dig in the supple flesh on your hips as he guides you on himself. But when Yoongi moans again, you don’t miss the way Jungkook’s eyes dart to him, his grip around his dick tightening as he starts going faster.

“You like it, mmh?” you tease him, regaining his attention.

Jungkook plays with his piercing, his head resting against the couch as he watches you.

“You could suck my clit while I fuck myself on Yoongi.”

Your suggestion is barely out of your mouth before Jungkook gets up. His dick stands proud and tall, and you look back at Yoongi to see him already drinking in the sight. He fucks into you then, and you slow down so he can use you however he wants.

Jungkook jerks himself off, gently, making his way towards you. He stands in front of you, and you can’t help but look down at his dick. At the large head, that shines red as precum appears on his slit. Your eyes trail up to his face, and the smirk on his lips tell you enough of what he wants.

He wants you to choke on his dick. But he understood something too, earlier when you asked Yoongi for permission.

“Hyung, can I fuck her mouth?”

Yoongi moans loudly as your mouth falls open.

“Say it with your words.” Jungkook is indecent. You’re pretty sure he’d tie the both of you up and use you both however he wanted if you let him.

“As long as she likes it”, Yoongi replies breathlessly. He slows down his movements into you, but he pulls you lower, until all of his dick is sheathed inside of you. He then circles his hips, and it makes him reach places unknown to you before. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you moan loudly.

The moan is interrupted by two digits sitting on your tongue. Your eyes shoot open, and you instinctively close your mouth around the fingers, sucking once. Jungkook cocks his head to the side as you start playing with the pad of his digits, hollowing your cheeks as you suck another time.

“You really want to suck my dick, don’t you?”

You do. You also want to see Yoongi sucking his dick, but you’re not sure the position allows it. So you nod, keeping Jungkook’s fingers in your mouth for as long as he allows before he’s grabbing the back of your head, dragging you closer to his cock.

You resist a little, just because you want to be a little brat, and Jungkook slaps your cheek with his cock once.

“Open up your throat.”

His words convey a command you’re wired to give in too. No matter how much you like to dominate, you’re not sure you have it in you to disobey him when he speaks the words with such a husky voice.

So you open your mouth, and you let him move your head until he can thrust into your mouth. He’s big. Large. It hurts your jaw a little, and your eyes water as he reaches the back of your throat faster than you thought he would. It doesn’t deter him, and he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting in again.

Below you, Yoongi is still circling his hips, and he grunts as you clench your walls around him, instinctively. Your juice is dripping down his balls, tickling him, and he has the clear image of Jungkook licking him clean. He almost wants to ask, but he’s too shy. All he can do is fuck you as he listens to you choking on Jungkook’s dick.

Jungkook fucks your mouth another couple of times before he lets go of the back of your head, moving your hair to the side to reveal your neck. He caresses it with one long finger, and you take the lead, grabbing a hold of his dick as you swallow once, your throat tightening against him.

The sound he lets out makes you think you’ve reached nirvana. It also makes Yoongi fuck up into you, and though he’s already hitting your cervix, you almost think he’s gotten deeper.

You offer Jungkook’s cock the same care you offered Yoongi’s earlier. You suck him dry, licking up at his head to taste his precum. It tastes a little different than Yoongi’s. A little sweeter, and you think you could get drunk off of it. It’s addictive, and all you can do is swallow as much of him as you can, hollowing your cheeks around him.

You try to look up at him, but the position doesn’t really allow him. You’re bent and you’d have to stop sucking his dick to be able to turn your head enough to look at him. You can’t resist the impulse though, and you hold his dick with one hand as you pull away, licking down his length, with your head tilted to the side until you can look up at him.

He’s not looking at you. His head is thrown back, revealing a sharp jawline that could cut through glass. You can’t resist yourself, and you let your teeth graze the sensitive skin of his dick.

He looks down so fast you almost think he gets whiplash. Instead, he just surveys you with a dark dangerous look on his features. It makes you add your own movements to Yoongi’s action, and your boyfriend’s grip on your hips tightens even more.

“I thought you were supposed to suck my clit”, you tell Jungkook, maintaining eye contact as you tap his dick on the side of your face, tongue darting out until you’ve found the frenulum.

He seems angry, towering over you like that. You’ve seen him eating good food enough before to know that that’s because he’s enjoying himself. “When you can suck my dick like that?”

You pull away, and surprisingly enough he lets you go. You start moving up and down on Yoongi again, cocking your head to the side. “But poor Yoongi is barely getting any action.”

Jungkook looks at your boyfriend. You’re not sure he’ll understand what you want, but a few seconds later he drops to his knees.

“Maybe he just needs me to suck on his balls, don’t you think?”

You moan, almost in time as Yoongi. Jungkook is bold. Crazy, even. You lose a hand in his hair as he dives in. He stops by your clit first, sucking it hard. It makes you clench around the cock spearing you, earning you a grunt from your boyfriend. He’s rock hard inside of you, and you’re pretty sure it’s taking all of his will not to come.

He suddenly straightens and wraps an arm around your middle as Jungkook moves lower. You assume Jungkook sucked on one of his balls, and Yoongi lets out a low string of curses that makes a knot tighten in your core.

You’re far from being ready to let it uncoil. But you can tell Yoongi will come if Jungkook keeps doing whatever he’s doing.

“Yoons, you think you can hold on a little longer for us?” you purr.

His forehead is resting on the back of your shoulder, so you feel it when he nods. But he has no words for you, just a broken string of moans that form a melody in your ears as you keep moving up and down. You taunt him, clenching your walls once, and the moans turn into a hiss.

“Never thought hyung was such a good boy”, Jungkook says as he pulls away. He’s got spit on his chin and your hand moves from his hair to his chin so you can dry it.

And instead of letting it air dry, you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking it dry. Jungkook just watches you carefully, and then he’s moving back to your clit.

The next few minutes are lost to you. The orgasm that hits you takes you by surprise, almost bringing Yoongi down with you. But he’s better than you, and he just forces you to still your movements as your walls pulse against his dick.

Jungkook is too skilled with his tongue. Flicking your clit in a way that makes you see stars, until they’ve exploded and you’re just left panting for dear life.

“You ask him not to come and then you just do?” Jungkook teases. “How unfair.”

He stands, licking his lip dry. You’re spent, head thrown back and resting against your boyfriend’s shoulder. Yoongi is still holding you, one of his hands palming your breast through your lingerie set.

You’re pretty sure it’s ruined at this point. Jungkook bends down, and to your surprise he steals a kiss on your boyfriend’s lips. Yoongi moans in his mouth, and while they kiss Jungkook’s hand sneaks under you. He finds the place where the lingerie is attached, and quickly releases it.

You turn your head, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek. Jungkook must have sensed it, because a second later he’s meeting your lips. You can still taste a little bit of yourself on him, though you know Yoongi lapped most of it clean.

“Let’s get her out of this”, Jungkook says as he pulls away.

Yoongi obeys, and he pulls the lingerie set over your head, until your breasts are finally revealed. Your nipples are perked on your chest, hardened by the pleasure that just ran to you. Your boyfriend palms them as Jungkook watches, and he’s back to stroking his dick.

You reach out, and your hand finds his balls as he pleasures himself. He tilts his head to the side, but he lets you do as you want. You’re weak from the orgasm that just rocked through you, and Jungkook looks as if he’s coated in an aura.

You know it’s the ecstasy from you coming so hard, but some part of you want to believe he’s a fallen angel.

As you palm him, Jungkook’s gaze slides to Yoongi’s next to you. Yoongi wets his lips, and his eyes drop to his friend’s dick.

“You want to get a taste?”

Really, Jungkook is not familiar with sanity. He doesn’t care for it, only wants to ruin the both of you. You’re forced to let go of his balls as he moves until he’s got one knee resting on the armrest of the couch. He holds his dick up towards Yoongi, and you let out a slow whimper as Yoongi wraps his lips around Jungkook’s large head.

You realize then that Yoongi probably has had lots of experience with men before you came into his life, because he clearly knows what he’s doing. Jungkook looks almost pained, brows touching on his forehead as his mouth falls open. He’s panting after a few seconds, and his eyes fall on you.

“Fuck”, he curses. “I don’t know which of you sucks best.”

From the moans he lets out next, you’re pretty sure it’s Yoongi. But you don’t care, you’re too busy circling your hips so Yoongi’s cock reaches every little spot in you that can make you see stars.

Jungkook observes you. You think he’s been watching you more than Yoongi. And as Yoongi bobs his head up and down, taking more of Jungkook’s cock than you ever could, the younger man bends down and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is sweet and slow. With no tongue, just his lips working against yours. His are infinitely soft, and you moan in his mouth. He keeps on kissing you, to a slow and steady rhythm that almost aches.

You miss him as soon as he straightens. But you don’t miss the way his gaze hardens as he holds yours. He looks sad, for just a fleeting moment. The next moment the look is gone, replaced by a lustful expression.

“Fuck”, Jungkook says, and he looks away from you to meet Yoongi’s gaze as your boyfriend keeps sucking him. “I want to get the chance to fuck her before I come.”

Yoongi whines, and he reluctantly pulls away from Jungkook’s cock. The latter refuses to meet your gaze anymore, and he motions to the couch.

“Hyung, why don’t you lie down?” he says.

You clench your jaw, before getting up from Yoongi’s lap. Your pussy clenches around nothing for the first time in a while, and you stand next to Jungkook as Yoongi moves. You startle as Jungkook slaps your ass, hard.

“Do you think your asshole is ready to take him?”

He meets your gaze now. He’s about to drag you to hell with him, and you admit you should be scared. Somehow, you aren’t, and you just want him to use you the way that he wants.

“I don’t know”, you whisper.

“Bend down”, he orders.

You nod, facing the couch until your chest is pressed against the back rest. You hold yourself up with a knee propped on the side of the couch, and your eyes turn to Yoongi. He’s holding his dick, jerking off slower than his usual. Probably because he’s already too close to coming.

You jerk forward as Jungkook lands another slap to your ass. It stings, and he parts your cheeks to reveal your asshole to him again. One of his hands moves between your legs, collecting your juice as he dips two fingers inside of you again. Once he thinks his digits to be lubricated enough, Jungkook pulls out and moves them to your asshole. He seems to hesitate for a time, and you bite your lips as you hear him spit, and the blob of saliva lands on your hole a second later.

Only then does Jungkook push his fingers inside your ass. He fingers it slowly, with scissoring motions that make your legs tremble, but you hold on strong. You keep holding Yoongi’s gaze for as long as you can, but when Jungkook adds a third finger, you lose the battle against your drooping eyelids.

The feeling is foreign. It doesn’t feel as good as when he was fingering your pussy earlier. Yet it makes you clench your pussy around nothing, makes clear juice collect around the entrance again, until you’re dripping on Yoongi under you.

Jungkook starts going faster, and when he slaps your ass with his free hand you moan loudly, hiding your face in the couch cushion. You wince when Jungkook pulls you by the hair, forcing you to look at Yoongi again.

“Look at him”, he commands. “You’re going to have his cock deep inside your ass soon.”

Yoongi is jerking himself faster than before when you finally are able to open your eyes. His jaw is clenched hard, and you can see a vein popping in his neck. You reach between the two of you, and he lets you grab his dick, though you only offer him a slow job as you’re too weak from Jungkook’s ministrations.

Jungkook takes that as a cue to pull his fingers out of your ass.

“Sit on him.”

You’re slow to obey. Yoongi sits up a little to help you, and a moment later you sit on him reverse-cowgirl style. You look up at Jungkook, waiting for his next order, but surprisingly enough Yoongi acts on his own. He angles his dick with your ass, moving it between your cheeks twice before settling it against the ring of muscle.

You wait for Jungkook to give you permission, and when he nods you sink down on Yoongi.

His dick is far bigger than Jungkook’s three fingers. It hurts a little more, even though Yoongi took the time to use his spit as lube before he aligned his dick with your ass. You wince, but you refuse to close your eyes, holding Jungkook’s gaze until Yoongi is deep inside of you.

“What a fucking pretty picture”, Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi lies back down, bringing you with him. He puts his feet up on the couch, to give himself leverage so he can slowly move in and out of your ass. Never fully leaving you empty, but always keeping a steady rhythm. The initial discomfort slowly melts into pleasure, and your hand moves between your legs, until you’re drawing circles on your clit.

Jungkook surveys you for a moment before he decides to join the fun. It’s a little awkward at first, as he positions himself, but soon enough he’s kneeling between both your legs and Yoongi’s. He spits in his hand, rubbing his palm on the head of his dick for a few seconds as his eyes fall to the spot where Yoongi is slowly fucking you. He must like what he sees, because his features turn hungry.

He’s going to wreck you.

Jungkook positions himself at your entrance. He uses his dick to rub on your clit a few times, and you bite down on your lip as he does it. It feels good, better than you thought it would, but you’re pretty sure that’s just because Yoongi is still fucking your ass, and your body is craving for more. Jungkook’s features soften as he meets your gaze, but when he starts pushing in, your eyes shut.

It hurts. A lot. Yoongi stills inside of you as you let out a pained sound. Jungkook gives you a moment to adjust, and then he’s pushing in a little more. The tip is fully in by the time he stops again, and you’re panting as Yoongi holds you tight to his chest. He runs a soothing hand on your side, and you take a deep breath to try and relax.

You startle when a hand cups your cheek, making your eyes fly open. It’s Jungkook, and he makes sure you’re looking at him, solely focused on his gaze, before he finishes thrusting in.

You weren’t wrong. He’s enormous inside of you. Way bigger than Yoongi. But you don’t know if the feeling is confused because Yoongi’s dick is still up your ass. You feel so full you think you might explode. Jungkook gently runs his thumb on your cheek, and you take a deep breath in time with him. You slowly breathe it out, and the ache between your legs slowly changes.

It still hurts, but not as much, and you nod slowly to indicate to Jungkook that you’re ready. He’s gentle as he pulls out, before thrusting all the way in once again. You moan, and everything clenches around the two dicks. Yoongi tightens his hold on your middle, fingers digging in your ribs. He’s probably going to come without even having to move, his body succumbing to all the edging you and Jungkook gave him.

It takes a moment for your pussy to adjust. But it eventually does. Jungkook sees the change in you, and he grabs your waist carefully as he gets ready to pound into you. He’s not quite ready to do it yet though.

“Hyung, why don’t you fill her ass with your come?” he says. “You like it, uh? When I fuck into her like that?”

Yoongi curses again. “Yes.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s willing for you to come now”, Jungkook continues.

You nod. “Please come for me, baby.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw at the pet name, but his eyes roll to the back of his head as Yoongi starts moving again. And then Jungkook is thrusting in you, in synch with Yoongi, and all you can focus on is the spot between your legs. The two cocks spearing you, fucking into you relentlessly until you’re on the verge of another orgasm.

You’re a moaning mess. Both men also moan their share, being vocal in their pleasure. Yoongi is the first one to reach his high between the three of you. He stills deep inside of you, releasing his hot seed in your ass as Jungkook keeps fucking into you. The latter must see you’re on the verge of coming undone too, because he reaches between your bodies, until his thumb is rubbing on your clit.

You come next, painting Yoongi’s pelvic white as his come drips from your ass. You don’t remember when he pulled out, but the feeling joined with Jungkook’s thumb brought you to your orgasm, and it hits you with a renewed intensity. It blurs your vision, turning it fully white, and there’s ringing in your ears when you finally fall from the high.

Jungkook hasn’t come yet. He waits until you’re looking at him again, and his hand wraps around your throat as he leans forward, just to hit a better angle for himself. And then he’s coming too, ropes and ropes of his seed that he plants deep inside of you, barely even slowing his rhythm. He milks his orgasm inside of you, with knitted brows and his teeth digging in his lower lip. It almost looks painful, and you reach up to pull his lip free of his teeth.

Only then does he still inside of you, though his dick twitches a few times again before it finally rests too.

There’s nothing but the sound of breathing for a time. From Yoongi beneath you and Jungkook above you. Your own breath is ragged, and you’re not sure you have blinked since Jungkook has come. Your eyes are lost in his, and you drink in the emotions that pass in his gaze.

You wonder if it’s regret that makes him pull away until all you can watch is his profile as he sits on the other side of the couch. You feel his seed roll down your pussy, sliding over your sensitive hole until it drips on Yoongi, mixing with his own come.

It’s sinful. What you did tonight is sinful, and your body is already sore from it. But as Yoongi presses a kiss on the back of your shoulder, you know you would do it all again.

It takes a moment before Yoongi lets you go. He always holds you after you’ve done the deed. It’s something that’s always been important to the two of you. But it feels a little unfair today, because Jungkook is sitting on his side of the couch and he looks infinitely lonely over there. So you sit up, moving off of Yoongi until he can sit up too.

“Do you guys want a glass of water?” you ask.

“Please”, Jungkook answers, and Yoongi nods once when you meet his gaze.

You get up from the couch with shaky legs, and you wince as you feel more come roll down your thighs. You bend down to grab Yoongi’s shirt, pulling it over your head, and then you’re off to clean yourself and grab water for the two men.

When you come back from your trip to the bathroom and the kitchen, you’re hit with the smell of sex that clings to the living room. You’d open the windows right away if you didn’t know how cold it is outside, so you instead move to the boys to offer them their glasses.

Both of them have put their pants back on, and Jungkook is holding his shirt in his lap, looking at it with a troubled expression. If they have talked while you were gone, they’re now completely silent.

“Here”, you say as you hand the glasses.

Yoongi grabs his and gulps it down in long sips, while Jungkook barely looks up at his before taking it. It takes him a few seconds before he’s drinking, and you turn your head away from his pretty features to look at your boyfriend instead.

Yoongi is already looking at you. He offers you a loving smile, the one he reserves just for you. It makes you smile too, filling your chest with warmth as you move towards him, until you’re sitting on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck. Jungkook takes that as a cue to put his shirt on, and he sighs heavily before glancing at the two of you.

“Didn’t expect this would ever happen in my life”, he admits, and a tired smile moves on his lips.

If you hadn’t seen the troubled expression on his features a moment ago, you would almost think Jungkook is happy and satisfied at the moment. The latter might be true, but there’s sadness surrounding Jungkook. Something you don’t think you’re supposed to be the one to fix.

“Thank you”, Yoongi says.

You turn your head to look at him, as Jungkook lets out a small laugh. “Anytime, hyung.”

“Both for the whiskey and the sex”, Yoongi adds as a joke, and this time Jungkook’s laugh rings truer.

You talk a little, letting the afterglow of the sex carry you through a conversation about everything and nothing. You partake in it, though you’re getting tired. The two orgasms that those men pulled out of you are taking their toll on you, and soon enough, you’re yawning with your head resting against Yoongi’s shoulder.

Jungkook chuckles. “I’ll take that as a cue that I should go.” He gets up, stretching lazily. His shirt hikes up a little to reveal a sliver of his skin, and you feel hot all over again at the thought that you had sex with him.

Jeon Jungkook just manhandled both you and Yoongi as if it’s nothing to him.

You follow him up, walking to the door with him. Yoongi walks behind you, his fingers finding your hand and holding it gently as you lean against the wall in the hall. You watch as Jungkook puts his shoes on, before grabbing his biker helmet that he left next to the door.

“So”, he breathes out, and a small chuckle follows the word. “I’ll see you two around?”

He’s looking at you as he says the words. You offer him a small smile. “I hope you didn’t think you’d get rid of us so easily.”

The unease that has seemed to be clinging to Jungkook slides away, replaced by relief. Did he think you were going to drop your friendship with him?

“Of course not”, he denies. “Even if tonight was unexpected…” he trails off.

“It was fun?” Yoongi provides.

Jungkook nods his head, and his eyes flit to Yoongi besides you. “We should do it again.”

Yoongi’s fingers tighten around yours, the only indication that he would want it too. But he’s letting you choose what to reply.

A smirk casts a mischievous look on your features, and you barely hesitate before saying, “Let’s meet up again sometime next week”.

Teaser | Next

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Ooooooooof yeah. That was... yeah. I’m sorry for sinning so hard haha but thank you for coming down to hell with me :’) I’m wondering, will you guys like seeing more of this couple/throuple?? If so, please let me know by following this link! Also, don’t be afraid to leave feedback, it’s always appreciated!!

Taglist: (add yourself to the taglist here)

@chimchimmarie | @pamzn | @the-boy-meets-evil | @sugarwithtea

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palmettoshenanigans · 2 months ago

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You know what I want?

Well I'm getting ahead of myself already. You know what I like?

I like those fics where someone says something untoward about Andrew (usually about his character, usually in reference to violence, and sometimes in reference to be worried about Neil's domestic safety) and Neil just,,, immediately starts tango-ing with his instinct to commit violence (sometimes an immediate 'oh. i gotta kill them now' or 'they mean well and also don't understand, don't kill them don't kill them don't-').

I also like those fics where Neil confronts his ability to be violent, but in a way that contains too much willingness and not enough shame, thus triggering his Wesninski Prodigal Son Issues (best when it's because his violence comes from either survival instincts or protective instincts - 'better them over me/my family').

With that in mind, you know what I want? I want a post-canon fic that is a big character study on Neil's capacity for fatal violence vs his desire to preserve life. First half of the fic being the tragic "Am I really my father's son?" angst where the person who keeps helping him through it is Andrew. Probably someone said something Quite Accurate But In Bad Faith about Neil in the media, which gathered attention, and it hit home harder than anticipated and now Neil is spiraling.

Do this a few times, Rule Of Threes and all that.

Then have a scene where Andrew does some violence (someone says something sexual about anyone under Andrew's umbrella of 'I care about this person but don't tell anyone I said that') and Neil stops him from doing something *clears throat* Not Great When Caught On Camera, and as a consequence someone expresses something about Andrew.

And Neil? Responds accordingly. Very Wesninski coded (I refrain from saying Nathaniel coded because that one fic somewhere on my pinned post convinced me that Nathaniel was never a cold blooded violent type - that was never his purpose. Nathaniel takes hits and survives them, he gets cut and makes sure he doesn't bleed out, he gets cornered and finds an out to run through. Nathaniel was never a predator, he was always prey, and that's why Nathan always saw him as a failure because Wesninski's were always supposed to be Apex Predators- but i digress)

Cue Neil unrepentantly embracing being Very Very Scary and later Andrew asks him how that little show is holding up with his issues. Neil shrugs and spouts some unintentionally romantic shit about not letting shit slide in regards to besmirching Andrew's character in front of his face. Cue Andrew saying something about 'Wesninski's would never commit violence out of protective affection. Only a Josten would do that.'

and suddenly Neil's spiraling is over via the power of Realizing Things, there's some banter about letting each other fight their own battles, Andrew says he hates him, questions get whispered and yeses get exchanged and lips get locked and other things get extracurricularly activitied-

Yea, that's what I want

#all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil

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thegettingbyp2 · 1 year ago

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Can you please write Aaron x reader with this idea:

He and his wife had an argument and she’s not talking to him at the moment. On the plane, she’s laughing a lot with Morgan and Aaron’s is in between the "I’m glad to see her smile again" and "I’m quite jealous because I want to be the one to make her laugh"

Show Me That Smile? Please?

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Aaron had been feeling guilty for the whole case. Just before you left, you and Aaron had gotten into a big argument about Aaron wanting you to sit this case out, afraid that the case would trigger old memories for you that you would much rather not think about. You hated arguing with Aaron, but you felt that this time he’d crossed the line. You knew that he was only trying to look out for you, but something about the way he asked you to sit this one out left a sour taste in your mouth and you were convinced it was because he didn’t think that you were strong enough to handle it, despite the fact that you knew he just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

As a result of this argument, you hadn’t spoken to Aaron directly for the entire case and made sure that you were never alone in a room with him, needing some space to cool off. So, by the time the case was over and everyone was back on the jet, Aaron was going crazy.

You were sitting opposite Morgan in the corner of the jet while Aaron sat at one of the tables, trying to get a head-start on some of his paperwork. As much as he tried to focus, the sound of your laughter was causing an ache in his chest at the fact he wasn’t being the one to make you laugh, his gaze constantly wandering over to you, hating the fact that whenever you noticed him looking over, your smile faltered.

‘Are you gracing us with your presence at O’Keefes for a drink when we land? If you do, I promise that I’ll not only let you sit next to me, I’ll also throw a dance into the mix,’ he asked, waggling his eyebrows at you in a way that had you almost spitting the sip of water you’d just drank out of your nose as you failed to contain your laughter.

It was in that moment that Aaron decided that he had had enough. Putting his pen down, he rose from his seat and made his way to the back of the jet where you and Morgan were still giggling to yourselves. ��As good as that offer sounds, that’s a married woman you’re talking to and I’d quite like to talk to my wife if you wouldn’t mind,’ he said to Morgan, shooting his friend a small smile to let him know that he was joking, trying to ignore the fact that the moment he’d approached, your laugh had cut out and the smile disappeared from your lips.

Morgan quickly excused himself and moved down the jet to join Spencer and JJ’s conversation. Aaron immediately took his seat and looked over at you. ‘Honey, talk to me,’ he pressed gently.

‘Why should I?’ you replied and even though they weren’t the words he wanted to hear from you, he felt a small part of the weight that had been pressing onto his chest lift slightly at hearing your voice again.

‘(Y/N), I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have asked you to sit the case out, I was just worried about how it would affect you and - ’

‘Don’t you think that’s a decision that I can make myself?’

‘Of course it is! And I didn’t mean to tell you, I was just trying to let you know that it was an option that you had. That you didn’t need to come on the case if you didn’t feel like it.’

Your gaze softened slightly at his words and you leaned forward in your chair, taking his hand in yours, a tiny smile tugging at your lips. ‘I know. I think I just went on the defensive because I knew what the case was and I was nervous. I know you didn’t mean it like that.’

Aaron leaned forward in his own seat, ‘does this mean I’m forgiven?’ he murmured, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

‘You know I can’t stay mad at you,’ you replied quietly, leaning in even closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. The moment your lips connected, Aaron’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you out of your seat and nestling you on his lap, refusing to loosen his hold.

‘If I’m forgiven, can I ask something?’ he asked, breaking the kiss only to pull a whine from your lips.

‘Anything,’ you murmured, brushing your lips against his as you spoke.

‘Show me that smile? Please? I’ve missed it,’ he asked, his cheeks turning red at the thought of anyone else on the team over hearing you. You couldn’t help the peal of laughter that escaped your lips when you saw how awkward he seemed to be. ‘There it is,’ he breathed out, pressing his lips back to yours.

‘I missed you, Mr Hotchner,’ you murmured against his lips.

‘I missed you too, Mrs Hotchner.’

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds

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manofbeskar · 1 year ago

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i’m so obsessed with mishanks because they’re so opposite and will fight and divorce, but there’s nobody they know better than each other. they are yin and yang. they share a birthday. shanks is probably the only person who can convince mihawk to party spontaneously because he knows shanks enjoys it. mihawk is probably the only person shanks would set aside his pacifism for to fight because he knows mihawk enjoys it. red hair and black hair, black coats and capes that are red inside.

i’m also obsessed with how mihawk, someone so isolationist and cold, loves shanks. if he sees shanks on the opposite side of a war, he is no longer in that war. in fact, the rest of you should quit, too. i don’t remember the face of every insect i crush, but i remember the name of the little boy he told me about once a decade ago. he’s a pacifist but i make the trip to duel him every single day because i know he’ll humour me. i don’t try to lay a mark on him because i want to come back tomorrow—he doesn’t try to lay a mark on me because he wants me to come back tomorrow. i will cross the grand line with a poster of this kid if it will make him smile. yes, he would have seen this anyway, but i want to see him smile. in fact, i’ll just keep staying out of this kid’s way because that’s what shanks wants. i have been looking for someone who excites me more than him, and i have failed. there is nobody who excites me more than him. i have his vivre card so i always know where to find him; he will welcome me if i arrive; he will invite me to drink horrible ale from his cup and i will accept because he likes ale and it tastes like him; if i am ever without a home, i tear a corner of his vivre card and know that home is there.

don’t even fucking talk to me about the way shanks loves mihawk. openly passionate and unashamedly loving shanks. yes i know mihawk is not that kind of guy and that’s ok. i can be affectionate for the both of us. if he ever decides he doesn’t want to be alone, i will be there with a shitty drink. it’s not red wine but i know he’ll drink it anyway because it’s my cup. i hate fighting but if he enjoys it, then i’ll entertain him. at least i get to spend time with him every day. i think i’ve told him everything about myself by now; he still remembers the name of that kid i saved a decade ago; he remembers which of my hands was my dominant one; he remembers all my favourite spots. i gave him my vivre card because i know he’d never use it to harm me; i know if he arrives that our fight will be fun; i know if he arrives that he is looking for me. if he is looking for me, i will welcome him home. is he a moody guy who could lighten up every once in a while? sure. i’d love to see him smile more; i know he likes seeing me smile—he came all this way to bring me the poster of a boy i mentioned to him once a decade ago. he is cold and i know he loves me, because we’ve been divorced and he crossed the grand line to see me because he saw my hat. he doesn’t need to tell me he loves me because he wouldn’t make all that effort for a poster if he didn’t.

mishanks is so!!! i think you’re the most insufferable person ever but you’re so fucking exciting. you’re nothing like me but there’s nobody i know better. i don’t understand you but i love the way you think. i hate this thing you did a week ago and i’m divorcing you for it, but if you showed up right now, i’d forgive you. it was stupid anyway. even if we’re fighting, please look for me if you need me. i’ll welcome you. it was stupid anyway. we can go a few months, even years, without meeting, but if i see something that reminds me of you, i have to come see you. i haven’t seen you in a year. i think about you on our birthday. there’s nobody i understand and misunderstand more. i wish you told me you loved me more often. i wish you gave me more space. we fought every single day but i had no desire to defeat you. i am happy to be your equal. it was stupid anyway. come home. i’ll be here.

#i’ve been extremely insane about mishanks if you couldn’t tell #mishanks #dracule mihawk #shanks #one piece

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months ago

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I have been wanting to binge some Xaden x you stories but there seems to be none! Thank you so much for writing Late Night Hours!! If you ever choose to write another one, would you consider a healer x Xaden?

-🖤🖤

So glad you enjoyed that story. I loved writing it. 🤍

My kind of girl

Was it an awful idea? Yes. Was it against all restrictions? Yes. Was this not at all how Xaden thought it would go? Hard yes. He didn’t even understand how it started. What brought it all on? He had visited many healers. Had been patched up by so many of them. He never given them any more attention that was needed. Done and forgotten afterward.

But that particular day most of the healers had been out on some sort of training. Spirits only knew what healers could train for but as if all odds were against Xaden, Garrick had a particular taste for blood that day and not even an hour into training, Xaden was clenching his wrist. The skin already blossoming with purple and reds.

“You should get that checked before you start crying”, Garrick chuckled, making Xaden growl, “Suck a bag off…”, “Manners”, Imogen chirped in, “We have a jar of coins remember? For every d and p that comes out of your filthy mouths”, she pointed a warning finger at the two males. “Mommy is mad”, Bodhi chuckled, earning a slap on the back of his head from Imogen.

So Xaden did go even if he was convinced that it was nothing. He still found himself rounding the corner to the healer's wing. Just the moment he kicked open the door his whole body suddenly stalled. It’s as if his brain shut off for a moment before it kicked start again at the sound of a book hitting the floor. The most beautiful eyes looked back at him. Xaden had seen a handful of pretty females. Had a pleasure to interact with them in more than one way but this. You. You made practically every single one of them look like average women.

“How can I help?”, you quickly bent moving to pick up the book. Your cheeks were already pink but that didn’t surprise Xaden, healers rarely left their wings. Rarely interacted with anyone but their patients. Xaden simply lifted his hand upward. He knew how it usually went. Most females clung to him. But you simply nodded, moving around the room and picking up different salves. “I will make sure you’ll be able to fly by the morning”, you muttered after sitting the rider down.

Oddly enough Xaden found himself unable to not look at you. He always liked his girls on the tough side. The more they snarled at him the more he was interested. Nothing was more attractive than riding leathers. But here he was mesmerized by the loose curls, a grayish gown, and even the colorful scarf tight around your head was beautiful to him.

“You’re new”, Xaden’s words were groggy because he had stayed silent for the past couple of hours. The tone was rather intimidating. But you didn’t flinch only blinked a bit faster. “Yeah…”, you muttered, “Only a couple of days here”. Your soft voice warmed parts of Xaden that had been ice cold for yours. He frowned not sure as to what was happening. “And you’re all alone here with only a couple of days of experience under your belt? I wouldn’t trust you to run this smoothly”, it came out more as an accusation than anything else. Making you pull back, “I can handle this. I can handle myself”, and oddly enough Xaden didn’t doubt that.

There was something different about you. Something way more intriguing. Something that caught Xaden’s attention. You also weren’t big on chatter. Nor did his broad shoulders seem to intimidate you much. You didn’t stop to hack at him and that rubbed Xaden in way that he hadn’t felt in a while. Your movements were calculated. As if it was second nature. Well, it very clearly was. It seemed like a dance. One practiced so many times that now it was easy to do it without being able to see. The same way fighting was for Xaden.

“If you won’t move it much today it will be good as new tomorrow”, you turned back, getting straight to cleaning your surroundings. “That’s it?”, Xaden questioned looking down at his bandaged wrist. One that felt perfect as it was now. But how did you manage to do it all so quickly? He usually sat here for ages while different girls fussed over him. “You want a kiss on the forehead too?”, you huffed, making the sides of Xaden’s lips curve upwards. “Do you offer that to everyone?”, he pushed on wanting to see just how far he could take this. “No, only to the ones who are as tall as they are stupid”, you crooked your head to the side, offering Xaden a mocking smile before continuing your way around the medical room.

“Ahh now that’s a low blow, baby girl”, Xaden gently caught your arm, turning you back to face him. Your eyes darted up to look at him. A look of surprise almost immediately replaced by annoyance, “You don’t scare me”. Yet your voice came out barely a whisper. You might not be a scared little girl but the guy in front of you sure was at least twice your size. A light shiver ran down your back. He could easily pick you up with one hand and just…

“Then why are you trembling?”, now it was him smirking once more. Satisfied that he managed to rile up a reaction from your body. But you swiftly pulled your arm out of his grasp, “I suggest you go, rider, before you find yourself unable to”, you pointed towards the door. Glad that there was some distance between you two because your heart was beating so fast you were convinced the male would be able to hear it drumming against your ribcage.

“Feisty little thing you are, huh”, Xaden whistled crossing his arms over his chest, “Unlucky for you, I like my girls prickly”. You lifted your head. Chin held high and fuck did Xaden’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of your delicate features shifting with that sheen of annoyance. “Unlucky for you I know at least forty-five ways to kill you and believe me you’re giving me ideas as we speak”, you nodded towards the door once more. Hoping that he didn’t see your crimson cheeks as he turned around. Xaden shook his head as he reached for the handle, chuckling under his breath. Chuckling… when was the last time he had chuckled? Maybe Garrick hit his head harder than Xaden initially thought. The rider ran a hand over his face but right as he was about to close the door he halted, throwing you one last look, “That pink on your cheeks suits you, sweetheart”. He simply heard a gasp before a cloth was flying right at him but Xaden managed to close the door in time. Frustrating grumbling audible from within the room. He surprised another smile before his cold side clinched around his throat once more. What the fuck was he doing? And why did all of a sudden you felt like his kind of girl? One that he had to win over.

#🖤 anon #xaden riorson #xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #xaden imagine #xaden riorson imagine #xaden fourth wing x reader #xaden riorson fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x you #fourth wing x reader

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago

Text

a bit dirty - ch1

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. ch1 | next [masterlist]

// maybe a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6683 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, cute flirting before, drinking but not drunk sex, unprotected sex (NO PREGNANCY TROPE I PROMISE I SWEAR FOREVER), thigh fucking, slight missed connection trope, names names names pet names a million pet names, minimal foreplay (unless you count flirting as foreplay), afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you are completely aware that you should not be out right now.

but you are.

and you could chalk that up to your horribly persuasive friends and their constant nagging and pleading for you to tag along with them tonight or your distaste for saying no to people and disappointing them or even a mild fear of missing the played out events of a really great night in your head.

the truth is, it doesn't matter the reason that you’re out despite how kinda stupid it is. the fact is, you know that it’s a bad idea to be entering a club at 12am when the alarm in your pocket is set to 6am, but you’re doing it anyway. sure, you were lightly bullied and, sure, you keep offering deprecating and pity-me sentences about how you really shouldn’t be out, but you’re still there. you’re still out.

you’re still hovering over a high-top table in the corner of the club a few steps from the bar screaming over loud music, “i told you guys that i didn’t really want to drink tonight.” yet, a drink is, indeed, thrusted into your hand. the glass bottle is cool against your palm, fingers smudging the condensation on the label as you hold it tight.

“if you don’t want it, i’ll drink it,” your friend offers, red jacket bunched around his wrist as he extends his hand towards you, palm shaped so the bottle would fit perfectly against it. you shake your head, bringing it to your lips, taking a sip, and then another, and then another.

“this is such a bad idea, kuroo,” you drone, exhaling as you take another sip.

“yn,” kuroo says abruptly, one hand placed on your shoulder, fingers squeezing to call you to look at him, “we know.”

“do you want to go home?” akaashi asks, calling your bluff or genuinely concerned, you’re not completely sure. he turns to another member of your friend group for confirmation and a bit of support, “bo, should we just take her home?”

you stick your hand out in between them as if this would stop the conversation from progressing or any decisions from being made. you shake your head, “no. no, i don’t want to go home.”

“then maybe loosen up and act like it,” bokuto implores, hands on your shoulders, leaning his definitely not a tiny bit of weight against you, bouncing along with the beat of the song.

“i just feel like if i keep saying it’s a bad idea,” you reason, narrowing your eyes as the sentences finishes in your head and you know that you’re going to get flamed when it actually comes out of your mouth, “that it makes up for the fact that i’m out because i feel bad for it?”

definitely not.

yeah, i don’t think so.

nice try.

bad logic, yn, really bad.

you groan, “okay, okay. fine. actually having fun. because i’m out,” you point at akaashi and he nods back at you, “and so why not just enjoy it instead of making myself miserable for being out?”

“and us,” tsukishima notes, “don’t forget us. you’re also making us miserable.”

kuroo throws his arm around tsukishima, runs the tops of his knuckles over his hair as he laughs, “you’re always miserable. you don’t count.”

“tch, knock it off,” tsukishima swats at kuroo’s fist so violently that he almost falls over.

“yea,” you say in an attempt to convince yourself, “just have a fun time and don’t think about the fact that i should probably be on my way home right now.”

akaashi bumps his shoulder into yours, the one that bokuto’s fingers are still tightly grasped around. “you know how to have fun, yn,” he reminds you, “laughing at those dumbasses is usually a good start.” akaashi nods towards tsukishima and kuroo trying, and failing, to contain their back and forth, bumping into the table and spilling bokuto’s drink.

it is a good start, you suppose. you can’t help but laugh, actually, as they start yelling at each other, blame spewing and insults flown. “and then,” akaashi says, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to your drink. he raises his own, waits for you to do the same and then lightly taps the neck against yours. you raise the bottle to your lips, tilt it upwards, and don’t bring it back down until the only weight in your hand is the empty glass.

“c’mon, idiots, you owe bo a new drink,” akaashi shouts over the already loud club and added bickering, “and we need a refill also.”

they either don’t hear him or choose to ignore him. neither tsukishima nor kuroo even bat an eye to akaashi waving his hands to get their attention or the dramatic sigh that he forces. bokuto notices, though, nods to the bar as he says, “c’mon, we will go get new drinks. they won’t even notice we’re gone!”

your tiny nod is confirmation enough. bokuto grabs your wrist, gently pulls you through the mass amounts of people to the bar, moving through the crowd much easier than you would’ve on your own. sure, you could maneuver in and out of people, but bokuto could barrel right through them, polite enough to offer small sorrys and excuse mes, but assertive enough to keep moving the entire time.

bokuto presses up against the counter, leans over the top to order whatever drinks he’s ordering, and then waits patiently while the bartender grabs said drinks. you stand next to him, akaashi on the other side of bo, a bit of space between you resting with your lower back on the edge of the countertop and the horde of people dancing in the vicinity.

the bar is a bit of an oasis, somewhat more organized than the conglomerate of different groups that occupied the rest of the venue. there is a patience here that you don’t get in other parts of the club, a knowing restraint that you welcome like a breath of fresh air. you scan the length of the bar, the groups of people inhabiting the same space that you are for the same reason that you are and among them, a man with gray hair and a tight black t-shirt who keeps looking over in your direction.

everytime you try to sneak a private glance, he’s already looking at you, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second before pretending that he was looking somewhere else. you’re suddenly feeling much warmer than before, perhaps it has something to do with the club lights or the large gathering of people or the way the two guys that are with him keep nudging him in your direction.

“that guy keeps looking at you,” bokuto notes, pointing very blatantly at the man across the bar. “you should go talk to him.”

“no way!” you instantly reject the thought.

akaashi leans forward, peeking out from the other side of bo. “step three of having a fun night out? getting railed by a mystery guy who keeps throwing you looks,” akaashi explains, head nodding, no inclination of sarcasm.

“you said talk to him,” you say, glance thrown over your shoulder just in case he’s already gone. that would solve a lot of your inner turmoil right now. but when you do look, he’s looking right back. this time, he keeps eye contact with you for an entire second before pulling away.

“right, well, and then fuck him,” akaashi says, mischevious smile, shrugging his shoulders as if it were obvious.

“i don’t do that,” you explain.

“you haven’t done that,” bokuto says, “there’s a difference.”

“look, you’re out, you’re trying to have a good time, that hot fuckin’ guy is staring you down?” akaashi says, naming all of the reasons that he believes this is a great idea, “and the four of us are here if something is weird. this is the perfect opportunity.”

“no, no,” you shake your head, “besides, i’ve gotta finish this drink and tsukishima and kuroo are probably-”

bokuto taps his card against the machine as you babble on excuses and grabs the drinks from the counter in the middle of your sentence, handing one to akaashi and holding the other two. “oh nooo,” bokuto whines, “turns out these drinks are for me. better find someone else to buy you a drink.” he makes eye contact with akaashi, nods towards the direction of where you all came from and starts moving that way.

you move to follow them, but your feet don’t move, heart beating against your chest as your core tells you that if you hesitate for only a moment, they will be out of reach and it’ll actually be easier to just sit here at the bar. and if something were to happen while you were abandoned by your friends, if the buff looking tall guy a few feet down the bar decides to talk to you, then it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have ever happened to you.

it’s not just that you don’t move, it’s that you make the very conscious choice not to move. you take a deep breath and check one more time that he’s still there, that he’s still looking at you, and he is. you let your stare linger this time, you have no other obligations or people to talk with. it’s you, all alone at this bar, waiting for one particularly attractive man to make his way over to you and talk to you, you might as well make it obvious.

with him are two other guys, one that looks eerily like him but with brassy dyed hair and a louder personality and another one with a black mask on and dark, curly hair. the blonde one nods in your direction, pushes him with his shoulder once and then twice and then a third time. you think that this will cause a reaction, but it doesn’t.

you’re almost ready to concede, make your way back to the high top and have a good night without going out of your comfort zone, but the other guy leans over and says something in his ear, points at you with his chin, and then pulls the blonde guy away and leaves the gray haired guy alone just like you.

for someone who didn’t make his way over to you the first three times someone shoved him in your direction, it doesn’t take him long to walk over to you once he’s alone. you wonder if you’ll have to say something first, what will you say first, what should you say first?

“did your friends leave ya too?” he asks, and if you hadn’t downed your first drink and you weren’t as nervous as you were, you might’ve noticed how out of place he sounded as well.

you laugh, offer a short nod as he takes place next to you, leaning against the bar the same way you are. you’re rooting through your brain to concoct an adequate response, one that will entice him to stay, continue a conversation, let him know that you’re very interested while also not telling him that outright, but all of that thinking is rendering you currently silent.

still, he tries again, asks something much easier, “can i buy ya a drink?”

you nod again, turning towards him this time, but not before catching a glimpse of his profile, his chest, his forearms tense with his fingers gripping the edge of the counter. tonight was definitely not a mistake. you don’t care how early you have to be up tomorrow. “only if you stick around for a dance too,” you say, hand ghosting on said tense forearm, testing the waters, voice projecting so that you’re sure he hears you.

he laughs this time, gorgeously genuine smirk appearing along with it. “i don’t really dance,” he admits, “but to talk to ya a bit longer? i’d be stupid not to.” his eyes flicker down to your lips, the way your tongue peeks out for just a second and your teeth scrape against the bottom, and then back up to your eyes, wider than before but just as lust-stricken.

he turns, flags down a bartender. on their way over to the two of you, he leans down, “what can i getcha?”

“i’m not picky,” you respond, “i’m pretty adventurous, actually. i like trying new things. i feel like you can learn a lot about someone from drinking their go-to drink.” you feel like you’re rambling, but he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing on earth.

he leans over the bar, orders whatever he orders, and then quickly returns back to your side. “so what did you order?” you ask. “what will i be drinking?”

“spiced rum and coke,” he calls back, “what does that say about me?”

“hm?” you question, tilting your head.

“ya said that ya can learn a lot about someone from their go-to drink. what does that say about me?” he asks, smiling.

you purse your lips, mulling it over for a second. “i think it says that you like the classics, but with a more exciting twist,” you say back. “like-”

he wraps his arm around your waist, cutting you off as he pulls you closer to him, moving you out of the way of some far too drunk couple that was knocked in your direction, drink sloshing right where you were just standing. “sorry,” he says, very slow to remove his hand from your waist, but you lean back into it.

“don’t apologize,” you say, staying pressed up against his side. “practically saved my life,” you joke. “if the roles were reversed, you’d be drenched right now. i’m not that fast.” he raises his eyebrows at your sentence, but you don’t correct yourself, just avert his gaze and laugh at yourself. “did you have that all planned or?” you ask.

“nope,” he says, arm still around your waist as he pulls his card out of his pocket to pay. he hands you one of the drinks. “just the stars aligning or somethin.”

the spice of the rum is nice, warming, a bit more flavorful, an unexpectedly fun twist to a classic. you smile up at him. “now you owe me a dance,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor full of people.

he doesn’t hesitate, slides his hand down your side, digs his fingers into the fat of your hip, and nods in the same direction as you. “lead the way,” he says. he follows you as you weave through groups of friends and drunk couples until you find a somewhat less crowded corner. the music isn’t as loud here, a bit further away from the speakers and the action, but it feels perfect for the two of you.

dancing is a generous word for what the two of you are doing. it starts more like swaying, his hand still on your hip, your hand now on his shoulder. you’re both still chained with mostly empty drinks in one hand, taking small sips here and there in between half-lidded eye contact and half-steps closer to the other.

“is it bad that i want to get rid of this ridiculously over-charged drink so that i can put both of my hands on you?” he asks, leaning down to place his lips against your ear despite the fact that the music isn’t necessarily loud enough to warrant that. you shake your head, his lips brushing against the side of your cheek as you do, and then you let it fall onto his shoulder.

you reach out, feel alone guiding you as you set your half-drank cup on a random table. you clasp your hands around his neck, allowing yourself to lean backwards to take him all in, pretty gray eyes, hungry look in the depths of them. you tangle your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. you really want to kiss him.

the hand that just held his drink is colder, shocking almost as it smooths down your lower back, fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt, toying with the fabric and the zipper on the side. now you really want to kiss him.

he’s staring directly into your eyes as his fingers ghost over the lace of your underwear. he doesn’t pull away at the feeling, doesn’t stutter or retreat or dive deeper, but pushes his fingers underneath the band, dull nails scraping against the soft skin of your hip. you really want to kiss him right now.

he’s so focused on touching you, on teasing you, on watching your adorable expression as you try to keep yourself composed, that you decide to take matters into your own hands, pulling him down into you and pushing up into him, lips smashing against his, fingers threading into his hair.

you talk in the same instances that you breathe, in between long, sloppy kisses and roaming touches. “i don’t normally do this,” you admit. “am i supposed to say that?”

“i wouldn’t know,” he says back, out of breath before pressing a kiss into your lips again, speaking against them, “i don’t either.”

“looking like that?” you ask, just as out of breath as he is, “your hands confident as that? yea fuckin right.”

he pulls away for a real breath, chest rising and falling a bit heavier than usual, tongue swiping over his lip to swallow the spit you’ve left there. “honest,” he replies.

you shake your head. you still don’t necessarily believe him, “i suppose i don’t have to trust you to go fuck you in the bathroom.”

he tilts his head, a huge smile on his face now. “oh?” he questions, “is that how far this is goin? ya thinking that far out?”

you blush, instantly warm against his touch. “well, no, i- i didn’t mean-,” you stutter.

“i mean, i suppose it doesn’t have to be that far out,” he says, low, as he brings one hand up and places your chin between his fingers, demanding your eye contact. “it could be in the next thirty seconds if ya want.”

all you can do is nod, but that’s enough for him. he’s dragging you by the waist to the other corner of the club, nodding towards the only single-room, open bathroom and you nod even more dramatically, following him inside.

he locks the door behind you and his hands are instantly back on your body, gripped around each of your hips, both pressing you against the door and holding you in place as you pull his face down into you harder. he slides his hands to your lower back, down your ass, pushing up your skirt so he can feel your soft skin directly on his large hands.

he uses this grip to lift you, back sliding against the bathroom door as he pulls you closer to him. he doesn’t have to lean down as far to kiss you now, doesn’t have to worry about using his hands to press you into the door. your legs are wrapped around him, his hips pressed between them.

he kisses down your neck. “do i get to know your name?” he asks into your collarbones.

“do you need to?” you ask, cheek against the top of his head.

when he laughs, you can feel the vibrations dance across your chest, “guess not.” he licks a strip up your neck, grinding his hips against you, “what do you want me to call you tonight then?”

“something cute,” you offer.

he laughs again, “alright, doll, i’ll get creative then.” he holds you tight, both hands on the undersides of your thighs as he moves you to the sink, sets you on the edge of the porcelain fixture. his hands move to the tops of your thighs, sliding up and up until the hem of your skirt is at the top of your hips, exposing the lacey panties he was toying with moments ago.

surprisingly, this weird grip that he has on the tops of your thighs is not doing a horrible job at keeping you up right, but the longer that he feels your skin, drags his nails against the fats of your thighs, nudges open your legs with his knee, the less his focus is on keeping you steady. your core is tight, engaged to not fall backwards into the faucet, but perched right on the edge.

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your neck, hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulls them down your thighs, over your knees, and lets them rest around your ankles and the fact that he’s being this mindful, doesn’t let your panties touch the gross bathroom floor, either means that he has, indeed, done this before or, the much worse option, he’s just that considerate and thoughtful.

he wraps one arm around your lower back, places one large hand on the inside of your thigh and slides it further between your legs until the tip of his thumb rubs against your already messy clit. you reach out on instinct, fingers wrapping around his forearm, eyes begging to stare into his, but he can’t pull away from the way that you’re teetering on the edge of the sink, thighs quivering to keep yourself upright as he begins to tease you, so you force it, slide your grip up his arm and shoulder and tilt his head to look you in the eyes and now he’s convinced he can’t ever pull away from this sight.

your eyebrows are knit together but always moving, lip jutted out, chin tilted upwards, breathing already unsteady and he can feel the heat radiating from your entire body. he watches your jaw fall open as he drags the tips of two fingers between your puffy lips, circling the pads against your hole once before your tiny, but insistent nods convince him to push inside. your eyes close lazily and then open half-lidded, corners of your lip upturn into a blissful smile, and the prettiest hum leaves your throat as his fingers fill you.

with your position on the sink it’s not easy, but you move your hips forward the smallest bit. it barely pushes his fingers deeper, but the miniscule movements are better than nothing. he could give you everything you wanted right now, could curl his fingers and move so fast that his arm’ll be sore tomorrow, but there’ll be time for that in a second. right now, you’re whimpering so needy for him, soft walls clenching around two fingers, juices dripping into his palm and down to his wrist, a slow, sticky squelching louder than the music and chatter behind the closed door.

“more?” you ask, quiet and sweet. you could’ve told him politely or demanded it, however you wanted to communicate your need would’ve been good enough for him, but you ask him so nicely and he knows exactly how the rest of the night will go, knows exactly what you need from him.

“oh, sweetheart,” he says and the butterflies in your stomach are getting restless now. he nudges your legs open wider with his knee, steps in between them to get a better angle, chest against your shoulder as he starts fingering you faster, driving his two thick, long fingers deeper inside of you, curling as he pulls his arm back towards himself. “give ya anything ya want when ya ask that nicely.”

you can’t think of any other words, the only thing leaving your mouth over and over again is, “fuck fuck fuck” as he fucks you so pretty with his fingers. you’re so wet around him, so easy for his fingers to slip in and out of you and you’re having a hard time keeping your legs spread. if he weren’t standing between them, they’d be closed around his hand right now. it’s all so much.

your forehead falls into his bicep, nodding against the muscle, fingers grip around the edge of the sink as you babble, “gonna come, please, gonna make me come.”

“then come, bunny,” he says, presses a soft kiss into your hair, and you’re gone. you listen to him so well, he can’t help but smile as he continues the motions, fingering you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around him, flooding even more. the grip on your waist gets tighter as you lose control, taking care of you as nearly every thought leaves your head. if he were any less in control, less thoughtful, you’d be on the floor right now.

“and what do i call you?” you pant the second that you’re able to think again, hands not really sure where to root as they move from his chest to his shoulder to his forearm.

“s’pose you might need something to call out when i wreck ya, huh?” he asks, kissing the side of your jaw because it’s the closest thing he can reach, thankful for your tiny recovery as he reaches down with one hand to undo his belt and jeans.

fuck. you swallow harshly, not caring for even a second how much the effect of these words is showing on your face. this confidence might look tacky or awkward on somebody else, but his beaming genuine smile and equally as strong grip on your waist is driving you insane already and you know he’s not lying, he’s going to ruin you. you nod.

“don’t matter to me, princess,” he says, smearing the juices on his fingers down the length of his cock, swirling around his tip, but you don’t dare look down, eyes on his as he finishes his sentence, “as long as it’s coming out of your pretty mouth, you can call me whatever you want.”

“and you say you haven’t done this before,” you breathe, voice very unsteady for how confident that sentence could’ve been.

“i really haven’t,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you. “honest. just something about you that’s driving me crazy,” he says, wet fingers digging into your hip under your skirt, and for some dumb fucking reason you believe him, nodding stupid like he needed confirmation to a plain statement and you hope he understands that this means that you want him right now.

you press your forehead against his shoulder, catching only a glimpse of him lining himself up, finally having a scene to match the sensations as he drags his thick head between your sloppy lips, grids the underside against your clit, pushes the tip against your slightly stretched hole.

“nuhhuh,” he says, picking your chin up, shaking his head, talking so soft that you accept it all as gospel, “look at me, dove. you can watch later, but right now, i need to see your pretty expression as i spear ya, okay?”

all you can do is nod, all you can say is, “okay.”

he smirks, kisses the side of your jaw so quickly before pulling away, eyes scanning every facial feature so he can notice the change in every single one, and then he pushes inside of you. the moan that rips from you is so loud that you’re convinced every person in the building can hear it. it breaks off at the end, so forceful that your vocal chords can’t support it, and you can’t see how entranced he’s looking at you because you can’t focus on anything.

you’re so fucking full.

he’s pressed completely up against you, hips resting on the insides of your thighs, arm around your lower back to pull you into him, your chest against his, and his face is so close to yours, but not close enough that he can’t see how hard he’s already wrecking you just by being inside of you.

his hips pull back slowly. you can feel every inch leaving you and you’re already squirming at not being filled to the brim, circling your hips as best you can on the edge of the sink. he pushes forward again, harsher this time. your head falls against his shoulder and from this position, you can finally see it, the sheen of your slick on his cock as he pulls out and fucks back into you, how thick he is as he disappears inside of you. your walls clench around him at the sight, his hips stutter at the feeling, he needs more.

every thrust inside of you, the fronts of his thighs slam against the side of the sink. you feel like the entire room is shaking with how forceful he’s being, but he can’t help himself, not when you’re sucking him in so tight. “shit, so fuckin’ perfect for me, fuck, so wet, ‘s it feel good, pumpkin?”

you nod vehemently, can barely talk amongst your whimpers and whines, can’t even really form a thought it feels so fucking good. “mmm,” you whine, “feels mm- feel- s- so good, baby, fuck, so so s- so good.”

“can’t even talk, you’re so cock drunk, huh, pretty?” he asks, moving both of his hands to your hips, rocking you back and forth to meet his thrusts and you just let him.

“please don’t stop, please, gonna come,” you say, the only string of words you’ve managed since he’s started fucking you, but you need him to know how close you are.

“lemme feel it, babygirl, lemme feel how tight ya get when you’re comin’ on my cock, yea?” he coaxes, rhythmic pace unwavering, harder now even as he pushes you over the edge. before you even make a noise, he knows that you’re coming, can feel you gush, dripping down the underside of his cock as you squeeze him impossibly tighter and he’s throbbing now, doesn’t know how much longer he can take it when you’re making such adorable noises and looking at him like that between bouts of inabilities to focus and panting that heavily.

he lets you ride through your orgasm completely as he hammers into you, lets you recover fully before even thinking about asking, “can i come on your thighs, angel?”

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, gummy walls fluttering at the thought.

you’re so drenched, juices running down your thighs and the inside of your legs, that it’s easy for him to press your legs together and fuck into them to finish. your plush thighs aren’t as tight as your cunt, but they’re softer, fuller, kinder, and he can’t get enough of the feeling and the sight, skin rippling as his thick cock slides against the sheened skin, disappearing into the fats of them repeatedly. you can’t stop looking either, forehead pressed against his as you both watch this sight in awe.

“gonna paint your thighs white, puppy, fuck,” he announces, his own breath getting heavier, thrusts getting less rhythmic, more messy as he gives in, heavy cock resting between your thighs as he releases.

the throb is violent against the inside of your thighs and you can feel every single pulse as stream after stream of his sticky load coats your thighs. as the last bit of come drools out of the tip, he presses your legs together harder and pushes his hips forward one more time, hissing as his sensitive cock slides through the mess of come he’s created on your legs.

“holy shit,” he breathes after a silent second. or, well, as silent as it can be with an entire world of people and happenings just a door away.

you nod, finally catching your own as you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding him down to meet your lips one last time, not because you’re desperate or needing, but something that you hope he takes with him as he leaves the bathroom and the club, a wordless thank you.

in the aftermath of lust and infatuation, you smile at him. he holds you in place, but leans away from you to grab some form of tissue to clean you up. he helps you down from the edge of the sink, helps you stand up right when your feet touch the floor, backs of your thighs aching from being pushed into the edge of a cheap sink all night.

“well,” you shyly bend over to pull your panties up from around your ankles, “really great night,” you say, voice still weak even after you clear your throat.

“yea,” he breathes a light chuckle, “a really great night,” he agrees.

you wait a beat, patient to see if he’s going to add anything else, a prying question or longing statement. the longer that you stay in this bathroom, the louder the noises of the confines get, the outside fading away momentarily as you hear the occasional drip of the faucet and the hum of fluorescent lights.

“do you think i could-,” he starts.

“i should probably get back to-,” you start at the same time.

“what?” you ask quickly, rushing to get him to finish the sentence he started, but there’s a soft pink on his cheeks and he’s quiet for another couple of seconds, and then he shakes his head.

“nothing,” he says, “i should get back to my friends too.” you only notice the sigh, the gulp, the hesitance and the regret because you’re looking for it, because you’re feeling it too.

his hand is on the door handle and for a single second you’re sure that he’s going to say something else, finish his other sentence or start a new, but he doesn’t. he opens the door, the loudness of the music unwelcomed in comparison to the privacy and seclusion of your bathroom hookup.

“well,” you repeat, “maybe i’ll see you some other time and you can fuck me in the bathroom again.” his hand is still on your waist as he smiles huge and his laughter takes residency in your chest seemingly until the end of time.

“or, maybe you could-,” he starts, but perhaps the stars have unaligned themselves now, because he can’t seem to catch a break.

“HEY!” kuroo screams from across the bar the second that he makes eye contact with you. akaashi hits him once and then a second time for good measure, leaning in and overtly pointing to the person next to you. kuroo raises his arm, taps on his wrist with the other hand, and oh god you don’t even want to know what time it is. still, you shake your head and turn your attention back to your fling that you hope asks for a number and turns into at the very least a longer-term fling.

“sorry about him,” you shake your head, and you swear he looks like he’s going to try one more time, pushing past all of the things that are refusing to let him ask you a simple question, but the blonde from earlier catches his attention, making a similar motion with wide eyes, chest forward like he’s going to walk over here any minute and your well it was really great while it lasted fling is removing his hand from your lower back.

“i hope so, yea,” he replies, a smaller smile now as he turns his body towards the two people he was with before that are heading to the exit. “i really hope so.”

the second that he starts to move so do you, both making your way through the dwindling crowd to the respective groups that you came here with, throwing a look over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure that, yes, he is indeed stealing the same obsessive glances that you are as he leaves.

“i can’t fucking believe you,” you say, hitting kuroo on the same shoulder that akaashi did, “he was about to give me his number, and now he’s gone forever.”

“you’d think that you’d get his number before you left the bathroom, yn, god,” kuroo says, shifting blame. “besides, maybe you’ll come out with us more now instead of being a buzzkill all the time, instead of being all guys, it’s not a good idea and i literally have work in the morning and-”

“kuroo is… oddly right,” akaashi says, interrupting him and shrugging, “in some weird way. he probably comes here from time to time, i’m sure you’ll run into him again. what was his name?”

your eyes go wide and you try to hide the fact that you fucked this guy without ever learning his name, but tsukishima catches it instantly and starts cackling. “wow, who even are you?”

“we’ll come back next friday, yea? you’ll probably find him again and you guys can have a fun mystery hookup in the bathroom again,” akaashi half-reason, half-pokes fun and you nod. you hope he comes back too. maybe you’ll at least learn his name next time.

/\ /\ /\

despite the fact that you do not regret anything from last night (well, maybe the part where you didn’t get the number of an incredibly hot guy who fucked you in the bathroom of a club, but nothing else), the morning is still not well-recieved for you. you didn’t even drink that much last night, but the small amounts of alcohol and the severe lack of sleep have you waking up feeling like your bones are made of bricks and your head is filled with them.

you didn’t get home until nearly 3 in the morning and you didn’t pass out until well past 3. you can’t brush your teeth enough times and the water in the shower can’t be hot enough and no matter how much concealer you layer on, the bags under your eyes are still at least somewhat visible.

regret isn’t the right word per se, because you definitely don’t regret going out the night (morning?) before or staying out as long as you did, but you definitely are feeling the effects of your bad decisions come to life.

and on top of everything, you have to be presentable enough to go into work? that’s ridiculous.

** bffs + tsukishima **

< delivered / 8:04 am < alright who tf did this to me

> kuroo / 8:15 am > that guy last night lmao

< delivered / 8:25 am < i wish akaashi was up instead of u

> kuroo / 8:29 am > what time do you have to be in anyway?

< delivered / 8:30 am < omw now.

a deep breath is not enough to prepare you for a full day of work, but it has to do something, right? and taking six of them outside of the front doors of not only your job, but your first day at your new job is probably enough to compensate for the exhaustion and physical garbage that you’re feeling.

you push open the doors, fake smile plastered on your very tired face, apron draped over your forearm. “good morning,” you offer over the chime of the entrance bell. before you even step fully inside, you’re greeted with the same tired-veiled enthusiasm, voice so familiarly soft that his morning welcome sounds more like an opening hymn.

you walk towards the voice, but you don’t see anyone fully yet, only the top of a moving black cap behind the counter accompanied by shuffling papers and clanging pots. “just a sec, sorry,” he calls before standing up straight, rice cooker in his arms and he realizes it in the same immediate instant that you do.

gray eyes, still pretty but surprised now; gray hair no longer casually messy but neat under an onigiri embroidered dad cap; tight black shirt against his chest long-sleeved now; and he laughs, not because anything is funny, but because he doesn’t know how else to react at how impossible this situation is and yea it’s the exact same laugh that’s still living in your chest.

you’re sure you look like a deer in the headlight right now, because it’s certainly how you feel. you can’t really breathe, don’t know what to say, because, yes, this is, indeed, the man that you had sex with in a dirty club bathroom less than 8 hours ago.

you look down at his name tag, miya osamu. well, fuck, if only you’d have learned his name last night.

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creamyavocadosoup · 1 year ago

Text

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫?

a/n: hi everyone!! thank you so much for 1k likes across my works! i was in actual disbelief when i got that notif. i thank you all so much for the love. i dont rly do celebration posts and such but i still thank you all sm for it ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) i haven't had much chance to write this piece so its been sitting in the drafts for a little bit but!! i have a break coming up so im hoping to do some writing then. also this is not proofread so forgive me.

characters: rtte!hiccup x fem!reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited (?) pining, hiccup being angy, mentions of not eating and getting hurt, almost fainting, implied almost death (astrid), near death experience, fighting, blood (got wounded)

here's part 2: take a chance with me

The salty breeze wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, sounds of the waves crashing on the shore almost lulling me to sleep after such a long couple of days. Had it not been for the sweat rolling off me, or the ache in each movement, I would have no doubt fallen asleep.

"She almost died, [Name]!" his voice boomed, his gaze so piercing it had me pinned frozen in the clubhouse across from him.

"We had a plan and you didn't stick to it. Gods knows what would have happened if the rest of the team hadn't been there to clean up your mess," he looked at me, the disappointment so apparent in his eyes it burned through the protective barrier around my heart, "And now they got away with the Dragon Eye!" his hands banged on the table, the loud noise nearly scaring me half to death and causing me to jump in my spot.

Astrid almost died. Because of me.

My throat ached, feeling like it loathed with the body it was in, rejecting this emotion that coursed through my body so intensely. My eyes burned, so terribly that I had nearly convinced myself they were acid, all in an attempt to swallow down the emotions and hope to tuck them in a corner of my mind somewhere, never to be seen or felt again.

"Maybe I was a fool to think you were ready for this." he muttered under his breath, but I heard it so clearly and the rest of the riders did too.

The said blonde laid a hand on Hiccup's shoulder, silently asking him to take a breather and calm for a moment, but he only shook it off, the irritation still clearly running hot in his veins. He stormed off, hurriedly flying away with Toothless, not a single glance back at me.

Astrid only sighed, silently approaching me, and the rest of the gang stood motionless on the other side of the room. Even the twins were uncharacteristically quiet, which had unnerved me more than I had let on. She rubbed my shoulders, allowing me words of comfort but I hadn't heard any of it despite looking right at her.

I mumbled a few words before scurrying off, making a beeline for my hut and hoping to shroud myself in the four walls and indulge in isolation. I thanked Thor for a moment due to my hut being farther than the main base, giving me ample privacy.

My emotions had only caused me to hit the targets harder, to push myself further, until I was sure something like this wouldn't happen again. What if Hiccup was right?

My winged companion whined worriedly beside me but I was too far past the point of comprehension to even realize that I was littered in tiny cuts and bruises, and my limbs had ached for a while now. But I ignored it, not even close to being content with my progress in training.

I laid in my bed, nearly motionless for the past 24 hours. Not even the sound of multiple knocks and quips from the different riders, nor my stomach growling had given me any energy to move. All my windows had been shut, allowing little to no sunlight into the room. The darkness had allowed for me to continuously slip in and out of slumber, the time passing faster than I thought it was due to it.

By the third day, I had resorted to aggressively cleaning every inch of my house, not wanting to drown in the thoughts and providing myself with a distraction. I still hadn't opened the door but had at least opened a few windows to let in some light.

Hiccup coming to knock on my door almost had me stopping in my tracks, but I chose to tune him out, not wanting to deal with that whole situation at the moment. I needed time to process the emotions and think clearly and rationally before I could face him again. I needed to improve and be sure there's been a significant improvement before he can see me again.

It took me four days, four whole days, to allow the simmering emotions to bubble over and explode to whatever mess I had become now. On a random beach at another island, training like my life depended on it with virtually no one but my dragon as my witness, and it was comforting to say the least.

The guilt from Hiccup's words had hit me like a truck, the possible outcomes of my choices in the heat of the moment and how it had almost cost one of my closest friends' lives. It made frustration build up inside me with each missed blow, each kick, each strike.

I had gotten so absorbed in my own emotions that I didn't hear or even notice the multiple footsteps of unwanted guests on the same beach. All I heard was the violent roar of my dragon and I turned around to see one of the Dragon Hunters on the ground.

I readily hurried my stance, thanking the Gods I was already holding one of my weapons, and cursed to myself. 'Fuck how did they manage to sneak up on me? Was I really that distracted?'

My vision flit between the hunters as they slowly and carefully stepped towards me, their weapons glinting under the sun. I knew I was at a disadvantage, my bruised and battered body would not be able to out-fight all of them. So I have to be smart, and figure out a way to get out unscathed.

It was quiet as we only stared at each other. This was odd, I thought, why aren't they attacking? Before I could ask questions, a familiar voice caught my attention as he walked up from the ship and onto shore.

"Ryker." I spat. Gripping my weapon tightly, I glared at the man in front of me.

"Quite good timing that I catch you here alone, hm?" He smirked, crossing his arms as he looked down at me, "Take her and her dragon." He ordered, the men around him charging at me at once from all different directions.

Over my dead body, I thought, no way are they taking my dragon! "[D/N] let's go!" The sound of metals clashing and explosions were all I heard as I parried all oncoming attacks my way as best I could and so did my dragon.

Heavy breathing and heavy limbs were all I felt as I slowed and struggled to keep up with my enemies. In a moment of weakness, I felt a blade slash through my side. Warm blood quickly trickled down my hip as I screamed out in pain.

A loud roar was all I heard before seeing a big explosion and my enemies knocked unconscious onto the floor. My dragon wasted no time and hurriedly picked me up before flying away to return to the edge, narrowly missing the arrows being shot our way.

I breathed heavily, clutching my side with one hand in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and my other holding onto my dragon so I don't fall into the ocean. The ride had felt extremely long and I could feel myself slipping from reality as more blood poured from the wound.

Blearily, I looked around my surroundings as I felt myself being placed softly onto what smelt like grass. I barely recognized my hut in the near distance and the garden I was growing beside it as my dragon hurriedly grabbed medical supplies.

Thankfully he already knew which ones to grab from seeing me patch up the other riders over and over again, and brought over gauzes and pastes. I huffed and groaned, trying and dragged to prop myself on a nearby tree to properly dress my wound.

"[D/N], get me water... water please." I was feeling exhausted but I knew subconsciously that I couldn't fall asleep now, or it would create even more difficult consequences.

My winged friend quickly grabs and brings over a pail of water to me. Taking off my armor and lifting my shirt, which was already slashed through anyways, I assessed my wound and figured it hadn't gone deep enough to rupture any organs or I would have much worse symptoms.

While cleaning my wound, a soft thumping and pairs of footsteps sounded before they spoke. "[Name]? Where are you? What happened?"

I didn't speak, focusing on stitching myself up and not crying. [D/N] however quickly beckoned them over and they quickened their paces, soon surrounding me with their bodies. The riders were shocked upon seeing my state and Hiccup had briskly told all of them to turn away from me.

Familiar warm hands were placed on my arms, "[Name]," Hiccup spoke softly. My vision blurred and my throat tightened, making it harder to stop the tears from falling, "Let me help you with that. Please." His voice was small yet firm, a hint of pleading lying underneath. Yet it was still caring, and warm, and it filled the cracking crevices in my resolve as I pulled away to let him work.

"Astrid, refill the bucket. Fishlegs, grab me more gauze and paste. And get some of the stuff Gothi gave us." The two nodded, ambling away quietly as Hiccup diligently worked on my wound. "Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Snotlout, grab one of her shirts and get her hut prepared." Surprisingly, there wasn't any complaints or jokes from the trio, only diligent nods and they went straight to work. Thus the only sound between us was the soft rustling of the trees in the wind, and my voice hissing at the pain of being stitched up.

"It was-" I gulped, trying to swallow down the burning feeling, "It was Ryker." Hiccup's hands stopped only for a moment and stayed quiet, so I took it as a sign to continue.

"He-He ambushed me. While I was on another island, training." I added, however the pain had teetered into being unbearable causing a whimper to escape my throat.

Luckily Hiccup had finished with the needle and moved onto wrapping it, an ever-present ache there but it was much better than the searing pain I had felt moments ago. Hiccup reached beside me and covered my chest with my torn shirt.

"I'm sorry."

I slowly blinked my eyes as I raised my head to take a good look at his face. His hair was disheveled, more than usual, and his under-eyes slightly darker. He had this seemingly perpetual small furrow in between his brows.

But his eyes were still that beautiful green that I had fallen in love with at first sight. One could argue that his slightly bloodshot eyes complimented the green but I couldn't feel much happiness knowing it was because he was losing sleep over me.

His voice was quiet, dripping with sorrow and regret and it had me pursing my lips, my heart feeling tight.

"I'm sorry I said those things. They were out of anger but they don't excuse how it had hurt you." he continued, his pinky carefully linking with mine. He was testing the waters, afraid I would push him away once more but to be honest, I was too tired to even formulate a response.

"Hiccup..." I whispered, softly curling my finger around his. He looked into my eyes, hesitant to hear what I would say.

"I'm tired." I breathed out. My eyes blinked often, already on the verge to dreamland. He nods wordlessly, picking me up with barely any effort it seems, and bringing me inside my hut. Thankfully it seems like the twins and Snotlout have already finished with cleaning up my place.

Hiccup helped me into the shirt they picked before tucking me into my bed. His hands were comforting, brushing away loose hairs from my face. But it was fleeting, much like most of his touches towards me. Like it burned him, or he was disgusted by it.

He makes sure I'm settled well but before he could get comfy on the edge of the bed beside me, Astrid's voice is heard through the door. "Hiccup?" she calls, and his head quickly whips to the direction of her.

A small frown creeps up onto my face yet thankfully Hiccup only thinks of it as caused by my injury when he turns back to look at me. He smiles, a little unsure and an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes, as he reaches out to tuck a stray hairs away from my face.

"Sleep well. I'll be right here." he murmured. I only heard the soft sound of wood creaking and warm, green eyes before falling asleep.

note: guys,,, i've been gone so long?? literally ive been so busy T-T also got friendzoned before the summer so that was great. ANYWAYS!! if u liked this, i would so love to hear ur thoughts. and!! there may or may not be a part two to this too hehe

#ˋ°•*⁀➷ books #ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ everything nice #httyd #httyd angst #httyd rtte #hiccup x reader #hiccup x you #race to the edge

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