#just... such a stupid movie in the best possible way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jkwrites-m · 1 month ago

Text

Welcome Home

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: He’s finally home. And Y/N is ready to love him for the rest of forever.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, cursing, kissing, emotional vulnerability, light confessions, multiple smut scenes, separation, military, crying, light anxiety, explicit: praise, fingering, body worship, breast play, oral (f. receiving), slight handjob, unprotected sex (this is fiction!),

A/N: in honor of our boys coming back 🫡 (& another time ending & crying from everyone’s lovely comments), here’s a lil something since I stayed up all night to write bc what’s sleep? 🫶 (i originally planned like 3k words but i got kinda carried away 🤭)

♡ MASTERLIST ♡ a03

═══════

The clock ticked louder than it ever had before.

I’d vacuumed the living room twice. Rearranged the throw pillows six times. Lit two candles- one because it smelled like vanilla and safety, and the other because it was his favorite and smelled like expensive cologne and pine trees. My heart had been hammering against my ribs for the past hour, and now it had officially moved to my throat.

I was pacing.

Still in his oversized gray hoodie. Still barefoot. Still wearing the stupid socks with the tiny bunnies on them because they were his favorite and made him smile when he caught me dancing in them, and god, I just wanted him to smile again.

Eighteen months.

A year and a half of letters and FaceTime and countdowns and aching. The kind of ache that settled into your bones and made even the softest days feel sharp. And now, at last, it was over.

He was coming home.

Jeon Jungkook- my boyfriend, my best friend, my whole fucking world- was minutes away from walking through our door.

I felt like I was going to throw up. Or cry. Or both.

Probably both.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror and winced. I looked soft, nervous, flushed. Eyes too bright, mouth slightly open like I was afraid to breathe.

The couch still had the dent from the last time he sat there, all those months ago, legs spread, hair a mess, tugging me onto his lap while pretending we had five more minutes. The plants had survived, shockingly. His bunny mug was still in the cabinet, a little dusty but sacred. His dog tags were tucked in the top drawer of my nightstand, hidden like a secret I never wanted to forget.

My phone buzzed.

Jungkook: On my way up now 💜

My lungs forgot how to work.

I backed up until I was pressed against the front door, fingers curled around the hem of his hoodie, grounding myself in the scent that still lingered no matter how long it had been washed.

A minute passed.

And then, I heard it.

The sound of keys.

The soft jingle of metal against metal.

The world stopped spinning.

The doorknob turned slowly, like a movie playing in slow motion. The click of the lock releasing. A pause. A shift in the air.

And then- he was there.

He stood there for a second like he wasn’t sure if this was real.

His uniform was neat but creased from travel. The duffel bag slipped off his shoulder and thudded to the floor, forgotten. His hair was shorter than when I last saw him, neatly buzzed on the sides, grown just enough on top to let a few strands curl slightly across his forehead. His eyes- those stupid, beautiful brown eyes met mine, and they were glassy.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. I just stared, like blinking might make him disappear.

He said nothing at first. Just looked at me like I was a miracle.

And then he smiled.

That lazy, crooked, I-love-you-so-much-I-can’t-stand-it smile.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice rough and low.

I didn’t remember crossing the room. I just knew I was in his arms.

I slammed into him with enough force that he stumbled back a step, and his arms snapped around me like steel. His breath hitched. My fingers dug into his back, holding him as close as possible, trying to pull him into me.

“Shit,” he whispered against my hair. “You’re real. You’re really here.”

“You’re here,” I breathed, shaking. “You’re actually here.”

And then we kissed.

Hard. Fast. Desperate.

He tasted like spearmint gum and tears and every single day I’d waited for him. Our mouths clashed, messy and urgent, and I whimpered when he cupped my face with both hands, thumbs stroking the apples of my cheeks like I might fade if he didn’t touch every inch of me.

When we finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead to mine, his voice cracking.

“I kept dreaming about this.”

I laughed through a sob. “I kept your mug on the top shelf. It’s dusty as hell, but it’s yours.”

He laughed, breathless, hugging me tighter. “That stupid bunny one?”

“Of course.”

He looked at me like I was made of stars. “God, I missed you.”

I swallowed hard. “I missed you so bad, Jungkook. It physically hurt.”

His nose brushed mine. “Don’t cry yet. You promised not to cry.”

I wiped at my cheeks, sniffling. “You promised not to make me cry in the first five minutes.”

“And yet here we are,” he said with a grin, stepping inside fully and kicking the door closed behind him.

The moment it clicked shut, something shifted.

The weight of the past eighteen months lifted just enough for us to breathe.

He bent down, gently picking up his duffel bag with one hand and keeping the other firmly around my waist, like letting go wasn’t an option. I guided him toward the living room, heart still pounding in my ears, his presence so overwhelming it felt like light filling up every corner of a long-empty room.

═══════

We sat on the couch in the same spot we always claimed.

He let out a long sigh and leaned back, pulling me onto his lap without hesitation. I curled into him like I’d never left, straddling his thighs, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands settled on my hips, thumbs rubbing slow, calming circles.

“Still fits,” he murmured, looking down at the way I curled into him.

“What, me?” I teased.

He smirked. “You. The hoodie. The weight of you in my arms. All of it.”

I flushed, brushing my fingers across his cheek. “You look… God, I forgot how good you look up close.”

“Yeah?” he said, eyebrows raised, cocky grin pulling at his lips.

I nodded, biting my lip. “Like you’re gonna kiss me stupid again.”

He didn’t answer with words. He leaned in and did exactly that.

His lips were warm and familiar.

The kind of kiss that melted through skin and settled in the marrow.

I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t think I could stop. His mouth moved against mine like he was relearning every curve, every sigh, every tiny sound I made when he tilted his head just a little bit more. His fingers pressed against the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was nothing left between us but heat and years of pent-up wanting.

When we finally broke for air, he was smiling.

That soft, smug, gorgeous smile I hadn’t seen in person in far too long.

“You’re seriously trying to kill me,” I murmured, brushing my thumb along his bottom lip.

His eyes sparkled. “You think I flew across the country, got discharged, and came home just to not kiss you stupid?”

I snorted, burying my face in his neck. “You smell like detergent and danger.”

“Danger?” he repeated with a laugh. “Baby, I’m tame now. Government-issued. Fully trained in discipline.”

I pulled back just enough to raise a brow. “Yeah? That right?”

He nodded solemnly. “Mmhm. Highly decorated. Wildness fully contained.”

I rolled my hips just slightly in his lap- barely there, just enough to see if he’d crack.

He did.

“Fuck,” he hissed, hands tightening on my hips. “Okay- maybe not that contained.”

“That’s what I thought,” I whispered, lips brushing against the corner of his jaw.

His head tilted back, exposing his throat, and I kissed the smooth skin there, letting my teeth graze just enough to make him shiver.

“Eighteen months,” he whispered. “Do you know how many times I imagined this exact moment?”

“How many?”

“Too many to count. Always you. Always this hoodie. Always the way you look when you’re about to get what you want.”

I grinned. “What makes you think I’m about to get what I want?”

His hands slid under the hem of the hoodie, fingers grazing my bare thighs.

“Because I’m about to give you everything.”

═══════

He stood with me in his arms like I weighed nothing, one arm hooked under my legs, the other around my back. I squealed, laughing into his shoulder as he carried me down the hallway like some lovesick soldier in a romantic drama.

“I can walk, you know,” I teased.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he said, voice low. “Let me carry you for a bit.”

I bit my lip, heart stuttering.

He pushed open the bedroom door with his foot and set me down gently on the mattress. For a moment, we just looked at each other. No words. No teasing.

Just us.

His eyes roamed my face like it was holy. Like he was mapping me out again. He slid his hand up my leg slowly, reverently, pausing at the edge of the hoodie.

“Still mine?” he asked, voice rough.

“Always,” I whispered.

His mouth crashed into mine again.

But this time, it was slower. Deeper. We kissed like we had time. Like we had forever.

And as his hands started tugging fabric, and mine fumbled with the buttons of his uniform, I felt it- that tiny pulse of something perfect. Something sacred.

He kissed down the column of my neck like it was the only way he remembered how to breathe.

Slow, lingering, lips dragging along my pulse point, a warm exhale every time his mouth hovered just above skin. My fingers were in his hair before I realized it, tugging slightly, needing to anchor myself in something because I felt like I was floating.

The hoodie was still on me.

I think he liked it that way for a minute- his oversized clothing wrapped around my body, bare legs curled in the sheets beneath me, looking up at him like he hung the damn stars.

“Kook,” I whispered, fingers brushing his jaw.

He looked up, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Take it off,” I said, voice smaller than I meant it to be. “Please.”

His expression softened.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t tug or yank or act like he’d been waiting eighteen months just to get me naked- even if we both knew that was true. Instead, he knelt on the bed, hands sliding slowly up my thighs and under the hoodie, pushing the fabric up inch by inch.

I raised my arms for him.

He peeled it off gently, reverently like unwrapping something precious.

I was bare underneath. Nothing but skin and nerves.

He let out a slow, shaky breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

My skin flushed. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

His eyes drank me in like he was trying to memorize everything- the curve of my waist, the swell of my chest, the way I was already squirming under his gaze.

“You look like a dream,” he said, voice hoarse.

“And you look like mine,” I whispered back.

He leaned down, lips brushing the skin between my breasts, and I arched up into him on instinct.

Everything felt amplified. My body was hyper-aware of him. The way his fingertips skated along my hips, how he kissed across my ribs, how he made sure to linger in every spot that made me twitch or sigh or clutch the sheets.

“Still okay?” he asked, lips hovering above my belly.

“God, yes.”

“I want to go slow,” he murmured. “I don’t want to miss a single second.”

I reached for him, tugged gently on his shirt. “Then take this off and let me look at you.”

He sat up and pulled the dark green uniform shirt over his head, revealing tanned skin and inked muscle. My mouth dried instantly.

“You’ve been working out,” I said, biting my lip.

He smirked. “Had to keep busy.”

“Well, it paid off.”

I ran my hands down his chest, loving the way he shivered under my touch.

He lowered himself onto me, skin to skin now, heat meeting heat, and kissed me like he meant to make up for every night we’d lost.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he whispered, voice barely holding together.

“I do,” I breathed. “Because I felt it too.”

His hand slipped between us, and I gasped.

The real beginning was here.

And I was ready.

═══════

His fingers moved slowly- deliberate, trembling slightly, like the gravity of touching me again after so long was still settling in.

I opened for him instinctively, breath catching as he slid two fingers along my folds, testing, teasing, learning me all over again. His forehead pressed to mine, eyes never leaving mine, watching every twitch of my mouth as I whimpered under his touch.

The air between us was thick with anticipation, heavy with the weight of eighteen months apart.

“You’re soaked,” he breathed, his voice rough and low, as if the words were torn from him against his will.

“You’re late,” I whispered, a teasing edge to my tone, though my heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, even as my body arched into his touch, craving more.

He let out a strangled laugh and kissed me again, lips claiming, hand steady as he slipped one finger inside me, and I gasped so loud he groaned, his breath hot against my skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, kissing down my throat. “I forgot how tight- how perfect- ”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I breathed, nails digging into his shoulder, holding him close. I needed him, needed this, after so long apart.

He didn’t.

A second finger joined the first, slower now, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of me. My hips bucked up into his hand without shame, without hesitation.

I wanted all of him. Now.

My hands fumbled at his waistband, and he didn’t stop me. In fact, he shifted just enough to help, pushing the last of his clothing off, bare now, hot and flushed and hard as hell. My mouth actually dropped open.

I looked down.

“Oh.”

His smirk was wicked, playful, the same one that had always made my heart skip a beat. “Something you missed?”

I bit my lip. “So much.”

And then I was on my back again, legs wrapped around his waist, his body hovering above mine like a question- waiting for the answer we both already knew. I could feel the heat of him, the weight of him, and my answer was already written in the way my body arched toward his.

“Still sure?” he whispered, forehead pressed to mine.

“Don’t make me beg,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.

His hips rolled forward.

We both gasped.

It was a stretch- the good kind. The perfect kind. Like being filled up with something that felt like love and breath and the sun all at once. He sank in slowly, carefully, kissing me through every inch, groaning against my mouth when he bottomed out.

We didn’t move at first.

Just stared at each other like the world had ended and we were all that was left. His eyes searched mine, full of questions and answers, of everything we hadn’t said in the months apart.

Then he started to move.

Slow. Rhythmic. Deep.

Every thrust was measured, like he wasn’t just fucking me- he was remembering me. I clung to him, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, my hands digging into his back, mouth open with moans I couldn’t control. My breath stuttered in time with his hips, and I felt every inch of him, every memory, every moment we’d missed.

“God, I missed you,” he groaned.

“I never stopped wanting you,” I cried out, my voice breaking as tears welled in my eyes.

He kissed away the tears as they came- not rushed, not frantic. Just present. Every part of him was right there. No space left between us. No apologies. Just forgiveness and softness and heat and-

My orgasm hit me like a wave.

It stole my breath and made me cry out, body tightening around him in a way that made him curse beautifully into my neck. He didn’t stop moving. He kept going- rougher now, chasing his own high as he buried his face in my chest.

“I’m close,” he panted, his voice a raw whisper. “Fuck- I’m- ”

“Cum,” I whispered. “Come home to me.”

That did it.

He spilled into me with a guttural moan, shaking, holding me so tight I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.

We stayed like that for a long time.

Sticky. Sweaty. Tired. Home.

═══════

Later, he curled into me, head resting on my chest like it was the only pillow that ever made sense. One leg hooked over mine. One arm around my waist. He held me like I was the last tether holding him to earth- like if he let go, the world would tip again.

I couldn’t stop touching him.

My fingers carded through his hair, slow and steady. It was softer than I remembered. Freshly washed, warm from sweat, the ends damp and curling from the heat between us. I pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and inhaled deeply, committing the moment to memory.

He didn’t speak. But I knew he wasn’t asleep.

His breath hitched every time I stroked behind his ear. His thumb brushed back and forth across the skin just above my hip bone, like he was counting seconds.

He was still here. Still present. Still grounding himself.

Every so often, he’d let out a long breath, not quite a sigh, more like a release. As if with each exhale, a little more of the weight he’d carried for eighteen months finally bled out of him.

“I love you,” I whispered, not even meaning to say it aloud.

But he hummed in response, soft and quiet, like his soul already knew.

And still, I held him.

I let my fingers explore gently. Tracing the curve of his shoulder, the line of his spine, the new ridges and hardness in his body that hadn’t been there before. He’d grown stronger. Quieter. Older, somehow. But this- the way he clung to me like I was his anchor, hadn’t changed at all.

Finally, his breathing began to slow.

His grip loosened, not in fear, but in peace. His face softened, lips parting slightly as sleep took him. I kissed his temple, felt the tiny twitch of his lashes against my chest.

I waited until he was fully still. Until the apartment around us felt like a cocoon, and the air between us had settled into something sacred.

Then I leaned in close. My lips brushing the shell of his ear, breath warming his skin.

“Welcome home,” I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

But the smile that tugged at his lips in sleep was enough.

═══════

When I woke up, the room was blue.

That soft, pre-dawn blue where everything looks like a painting. The blinds were tilted just enough for the city lights to bleed through, casting long shadows across the sheets tangled around our bodies. I hadn’t moved. Neither had he.

Jungkook was still draped over me, cheek pressed to my chest, breathing slow and even. His arm was slung lazily over my waist, fingers curled into the fabric of the sheet like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go.

I could barely breathe, but not because of the weight.

Because of the peace.

I lay there, unmoving, eyes tracing the slope of his bare shoulder, the tiny freckles on his back, the edge of the tattoo that peeked out from beneath the covers. God, I missed those freckles. I missed the way he slept- completely uninhibited, one leg flung out, lips parted slightly like he’d been dreaming something soft.

He made this tiny sound when I brushed a hand down his spine. A low, sleepy murmur, almost like a cat stretching into touch. I smiled.

“I missed that noise,” I whispered, not really intending for him to hear.

But he shifted slightly, his voice thick and rough from sleep. “Missed you whispering in bed.”

My breath caught. I looked down, and sure enough, his eyes were barely open.

His lips were pulled into a sleepy, lopsided smile.

“Good morning,” I said, brushing the hair from his forehead.

“Best one I’ve had in eighteen months.”

I felt my throat close a little. “You remember how to flirt, I see.”

“Hard to forget when you were in my dreams every damn night.”

He pushed himself up on one elbow and hovered above me, the sheet slipping slightly to reveal his chest. He leaned down and kissed my bare shoulder. Then my collarbone. Then the corner of my mouth.

“You smell the same,” he whispered.

“So do you.”

He smiled. “Must be fate.”

I laughed, pushing at his chest until he collapsed beside me with a groan, arm pulling me with him. I curled into his side, my hand resting over his heart.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat. “Really okay?”

I nodded against him. “I didn’t realize how not-okay I was until I could touch you again.”

He swallowed hard. “Same.”

We lay in silence for a moment, just listening to each other breathe. There was something sacred about the quiet. Something that didn’t need to be filled. Just held.

“I was scared,” he said quietly, voice so low I almost missed it.

My heart paused.

He was staring at the ceiling now, one arm still around me, his fingers drumming slowly against my hip. It was a nervous rhythm, soft and off-tempo. Like he was fighting the words.

“What were you scared of?” I asked, nuzzling closer, my nose brushing his jaw.

He hesitated, then turned to face me fully.

“That you’d move on,” he said. “That you’d realize you didn’t want to wait anymore. That someone else would come along and actually be there for you.”

I blinked at him.

“Jungkook.”

He looked down. “I know it’s dumb. You always reassured me. But every time I saw your face through a screen instead of in front of me, it hit me all over again. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t hold you when you cried. I couldn’t kiss you when you had a bad day. I couldn’t even send you a real fucking gift without jumping through a dozen approval hoops.”

“You sent me letters,” I whispered, voice thick.

“I wanted to send me. Not scraps of me. All of me.”

I cupped his face gently. His eyes were glassy again, lashes heavy with emotion.

“I never wanted anyone else,” I told him. “Not even for a second.”

He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t stay because I’m a good girlfriend,” I continued. “I stayed because you’re my person. You’re the one I see when I think of forever. There’s no timeline that could ever make me forget that.”

He leaned forward and kissed me- slow, deep, thankful. He kissed me like I’d just saved his life.

“I love you so much,” he whispered against my lips.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

We fell back against the pillows, foreheads touching, breath shared. The silence between us wasn’t silence anymore. It was full. Of everything we’d said. And everything we didn’t need to.

After a few minutes, I rested my chin on his chest.

“I had my own fears,” I admitted.

He looked down at me. “Yeah?”

I nodded slowly. “That when you came back, you’d be… different. That maybe the version of you I remembered wouldn’t exist anymore. That I wouldn’t know how to fit next to you again.”

He traced a finger along my back. “Did it feel like that?”

“No,” I said. “It felt like breathing again.”

He pulled me tighter against him. “Then let’s never stop.”

My heart fluttered.

He kissed my forehead and whispered, “We can stay here all day, you know. Screw the outside world. No alarms. No phone calls. Just you, me, and this bed.”

“You’re speaking my language,” I murmured.

“I’ve always been fluent in you.”

I giggled, hiding my face against his chest. “That was so cheesy.”

He grinned. “I’ve been saving that line for weeks.”

═══════

Time slowed in the haze of post-reunion softness.

I couldn’t tell how long we’d been wrapped up in each other like that. Minutes? Hours? I didn’t care. The world outside our bedroom didn’t exist. It’s just the faint hum of the fridge, the occasional car below our window, and the steady thrum of Jungkook’s heartbeat beneath my cheek.

“I missed this,” I mumbled, eyes still closed.

He stroked my back gently. “What, cuddling naked in bed while I sweat like a furnace?”

I snorted. “No. Well, yes. But also this. Just being dumb and half-asleep and saying things like ‘I missed this.’”

His chest rumbled under me with quiet laughter. “I missed you being dumb and half-asleep.”

“Charming.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

We stayed there, giggling softly, like we were trying not to wake the memory of everything we’d been through. I traced lazy shapes on his chest, spelling out nonsense, occasionally drawing a heart or writing his name with my fingertip.

He hummed. “Whatcha writing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Is it dirty?”

I grinned up at him. “What if it is?”

He leaned down, nudging my nose with his. “Then I’m obviously obligated to investigate.”

His mouth found mine again. Slow, sleepy, and deliciously unhurried. He kissed me like there was no rush. Like we had all the time in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, we did.

When we pulled apart, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “You wanna know what I missed the most?”

I nodded.

He smiled. “The way you look at me when you’re not saying anything. Just… like that. Like you already know I’m yours.”

I felt my eyes sting.

“And you are,” I whispered. “You always were.”

═══════

Eventually, our stomachs growled loud enough to interrupt the moment.

He groaned. “Okay. I love you, but I also love food.”

“You can have both,” I said. “You have me and leftover ramen in the fridge.”

He lit up like a little kid. “You kept the leftovers?”

I smirked. “I keep everything.”

He reached for his boxers, but I yanked him back by the waistband and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I’m serious, though. Today’s just for us.”

“No calls. No errands. No makeup or clothes unless absolutely necessary.”

He saluted. “Roger that. I am officially yours for the day.”

“You’re mine every day.”

He kissed the tip of my nose. “Damn right I am.”

═══════

Jungkook made breakfast shirtless, and I decided I was never letting him leave the apartment again.

He wore nothing but those gray sweatpants and a sleepy grin, hair messy from bed, dog tags clinking softly as he moved around the kitchen like it was still his. Like no time had passed. Like his body didn’t just come home from the weight of eighteen months of structure and silence.

I sat on the counter in one of his old t-shirts (the black one with the tiny bleach stain near the hem) and watched him whisk eggs like it was the most mesmerizing thing in the world.

“I forgot how loud you are in the kitchen,” I teased, swinging my legs.

“I forgot how nosy you are,” he shot back with a grin, glancing over his shoulder.

I smiled, sipping my coffee. “Is it weird that this feels normal already?”

“Not weird. Perfect.”

He poured the eggs into the skillet and crossed the kitchen to stand between my legs. His hands rested on my thighs, his head dropping to my shoulder.

“I used to imagine this exact moment,” he said softly. “Waking up with you. Cooking for you. Holding you in a room that didn’t echo.”

My fingers threaded through his hair. “We’re here now.”

“I know.” His lips brushed my neck. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

═══════

We ate together at the counter. Laughing over slightly burnt toast, fighting over who got more juice, giggling when he leaned over just to kiss the corner of my mouth.

Every moment felt precious. Every touch mattered.

After breakfast, we curled up on the couch- me wrapped in a blanket, him lying between my legs, head on my chest like before. Our show played in the background, but we didn’t pay attention. We were too caught up in each other.

“I kept watching this without you,” I admitted.

He gasped dramatically. “You betrayed me.”

“I had to do something to feel close to you.”

He smiled, looking up at me. “You could’ve just written ‘Jungkook is sexy’ on all the mirrors.”

I snorted. “You assume I didn’t?”

He burst out laughing, hand sliding under the blanket to squeeze my knee. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We stayed that way until the sunlight shifted, the afternoon creeping across the walls. And still, neither of us moved.

He sighed deeply, hand stroking my hip under the blanket. “You know the hardest part?”

I tilted my head.

“It wasn’t the schedule. Or the drills. Or the cold nights. It was sleeping without you. Going to bed and waking up without you.”

I bent down and kissed his temple. “Well, you’re never doing that again.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

═══════

Night fell slow and soft over the apartment, wrapping everything in gold. The city hummed outside the window, but inside, it was just us. Tangled limbs. Quiet breaths. Familiar touches.

We lay curled around each other in bed, the comforter kicked halfway down, skin against skin. I was spooned against his chest, his arm tucked tight around my waist, nose pressed to the back of my neck. I could feel him breathing me in.

And then his hand started moving.

Not hurried. Not rough. Just soft, slow strokes across my stomach. Fingertips tracing idle patterns, brushing under the hem of the shirt I’d borrowed from him again.

“Kook,” I whispered, breath catching.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just nuzzled closer, pressed a warm kiss just below my ear.

“I can’t stop touching you,” he murmured, voice heavy with sleep and want. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes, warm and heavy-lidded, held a vulnerability I wasn’t used to seeing. “It’s real,” I whispered, reaching down to lace our fingers together.

His hand was calloused, a reminder of the life he’d lived without me for the past eighteen months, but his touch was gentle, as if he feared I might shatter.

He turned me gently onto my back, body sliding over mine in one smooth, fluid motion. His weight wasn’t oppressive; it was grounding, a reminder of his presence, of us. His lips found my collarbone, and I felt the low hum in his throat as he kissed lower, slower.

My body responded instinctively, arching slightly as his mouth trailed down, his tongue leaving a wet path that made me squirm beneath him.

“Need you one more time,” he said.

My breath hitched. “You just had me.”

“I know,” he whispered, forehead resting against mine. “But I want to feel it again. All of it. You. Us. This. Before sleep takes me.”

There was no room for teasing now, no space for jokes. Just heat and heartache and something deeper than either of us could put into words.

His lips found mine, and he kissed me like it was his final prayer, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every missed moment, into that single touch.

Hands exploring like every inch of me was sacred.

He pushed my hair back, exposing the curve of my neck, and kissed every inch of newly revealed skin as if asking permission all over again. My shirt was peeled away slowly, his lips following the fabric as it slid off my shoulders.

I shivered as his mouth found the sensitive skin of my breasts, his tongue tracing the outline of my nipples before taking one into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, until I gasped his name.

“Kook,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his black hair, pulling him closer.

He smiled against my skin, a cheeky grin that made my heart flutter. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his lips moving lower, his hands sliding down my body.

He kissed my stomach, my hips, my thighs as his fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants. I lifted my hips, helping him slide them off, and he paused, his eyes drinking me in like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe.

I blushed, but the heat in my cheeks was nothing compared to the fire burning low in my belly. “Baby,” I whispered, urging him closer.

His lips found the junction of my thighs, his breath warm against my cunt. I gasped as his tongue pressed against me, slow and deliberate, tasting me like I was the sweetest thing he’d ever known.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he explored, his tongue dipping and swirling, his mouth sucking gently, then harder, until I was moaning his name, my fingers clutching at the sheets.

“Fuuuck, Kook,” I groaned, my body arching off the bed. “Right there.”

He hummed his approval, his tongue pressing deeper, his fingers sliding between my folds, teasing the spot that made me see stars.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice muffled against my skin. “So fucking perfect.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through me, and I felt my walls clenching around his tongue, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Baby, please,” I begged, my body on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release.

He smiled against me, his lips curving into that cheeky grin I loved so much. “I got you baby,” he whispered, pulling back slightly, his tongue tracing lazy circles that made me whimper. “Come apart for me.”

His words were the push, and I felt my body respond, my muscles tightening, my breath hitching as he worked his magic. His tongue was relentless, his mouth devouring me, his fingers sliding inside me, stretching me, filling me, until I was a mess of moans and pleas, my body trembling on the brink.

“Kook, I- ”

He didn’t let me finish. His mouth closed over me, his tongue pressing hard against my clit, his fingers curling inside me, and I shattered. My back arched, my nails digging into his shoulders as my orgasm ripped through me, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me, leaving me breathless and boneless.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, my body still trembling as he kissed his way back up, his lips brushing against mine. “That was-“

“Not enough,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “But we’ll fix that.”

He shifted, his body moving over mine, his lips finding mine again, kissing me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine as he settled between my legs. I felt him, hard and thick, pressing against my thigh, and I reached down, wrapping my hand around him, stroking slowly, savoring the feel of him, the way he twitched in my grip.

“You’re so hard,” I murmured, my thumb brushing over the head, smearing the pre-cum that had leaked from him.

“All for you,” he replied, his voice a low growl. “Always.”

He kissed me again, his lips moving to my neck, my collarbone, his hands sliding down my body, teasing, touching, until I was squirming beneath him, needy and desperate for more.

“I want you inside me,” I whispered, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

He kissed me like he was claiming me, his lips fierce and hungry, his hands gripping my hips as he positioned himself at my entrance. I felt him press against me, the head of his cock teasing my folds, and I gasped as he slid inside, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine.

It felt different. More intense. Like our bodies remembered each other better than our minds ever could. There was no rush. No wild rhythm. Just slow, deep movements- hips rocking together in a perfect, quiet ache.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “You feel so good.”

I wrapped my legs tighter around him, urging him deeper, and he obliged, his hips rocking into mine, his thrusts slow and controlled, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His eyes stayed locked on mine, his expression raw and open, as if he was laying his soul bare.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice a chant, a tether holding him to me. “So much.”

I kissed the corner of his mouth, the edge of his jaw, my fingers tracing the scar near his shoulder, a reminder of the life he’d lived before me.

“I’m yours,” I told him. “Always.”

His thrusts grew deeper, his hips moving in a rhythm that matched my own, our bodies moving as one, our breaths syncing, our hearts beating in time.

The air was thick with the sound of our skin slapping together, our moans filling the room, our pleasure building, inexorable and undeniable.

“Kook,” I gasped, my body tightening around him, my walls clenching as I felt the familiar coil of pleasure building low in my belly. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “Cum with me, baby. Let go.”

My body shattered around him, my orgasm ripping through me, my cries echoing in the room as he followed, his own release spilling into me, his name on my lips as we came apart together, our bodies trembling, our breaths ragged, our hearts pounding.

He collapsed beside me, chest rising fast, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. I turned into him, pulling the blanket up over us. His hand found mine beneath it.

“I could stay here forever,” he mumbled, lips brushing my temple.

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “I’d let you.”

And then, slowly, his body began to relax. His breathing slowed. His grip on my hand loosened just slightly as his eyes fluttered shut.

I looked at him. He’s so beautiful and unguarded in sleep.

My heart ached with how much I loved him.

I leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

��No more waiting, baby. No more distance. You’re home… you always were.”

═══════

♡ MASTERLIST ♡ a03

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/10/2025

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts ff #bts ffs #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #welcome home m #jkwrites m one shot

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ryuucam · 5 months ago

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SWEET BROWN SUGAR (VOL 2)

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ more kink drabbles :3 including jing yuan, gallagher, mr reca, phainon (vol 1 here)

contains a bit darker than vol 1 .. meanie jing yuan :(, gallagher is gross (i need him so bad)!!!! actress!reader in reca’s hehe, phainon is lowk insane

notes cant wait for mydei’s banner (i barely saved up a 10 pull)

JING YUAN — cockwarming + breeding

lazy sex with the laziest general on the xianzhou isn’t a surprise to anyone. but alas, despite being older, bigger and wiser now, he was still raised as a cloud knight, trained to build up as much stamina as he could. maybe, you wonder, that’s why he never seems to get too tired, never seems to get his stupid fat cock to soften. however, he just can’t be bothered to thrust into you, breaking out a sweat to pound in his sweet lover, no, he’ll just stuff it right into your cunt, keeping it warm as he finishes all the paperwork diviner fu sent him. too lazy to think about what the cloud knights who barge into the seat of divine foresight will think, jing yuan figures it’s best to keep you plopped into his lap all day. but of course his princess is bound to get bored, and he’s never been an evil man. so his honeyed words fill up the room, encouraging you to fuck yourself using him, hands rubbing your tits above your shirt. lunch breaks are his favorite part of the day, since you typically work up the courage to ride him then. he won’t help you, no, he’ll save his actions for later tonight, but he still keeps you plugged with his cum, filling your tummy and keeping it warm.

GALLAGHER — daddy + corruption

gallagher gets disgusted with himself sometimes. he knows he shouldn’t hang around you so much, but you make it so easy when you stumble into his bar for the nth time this month, short skirt hanging low on your hips. but, he also knows you really don’t know any better. he’s always so nice to you, maybe a little teasing here and there, giving you time and space to ramble about whatever fad you’re into nowadays. he just nods, eyes focused on the way your lips play with the straw of your drink. gallagher’s mind is filled with you, having spent countless off duty nights tugging at his cock wishing it was your hand instead. he doesn’t hesitate when he notices how you’ve been squirming on the bar stool, back arching and your nipples showing beneath your tight shirt. of course he doesn’t hesitate when you murmur something about feeling hot and wanting his help — maybe he should’ve. now you’re pressed into his small mattress, clothing long lost on the floor of his room, too busy squealing as he rubs and pinches your clit and tits. you really don’t know any better, relying on an older man to take care of you .. gallagher thinks you’re so cute, cheeks all red as you stammer out some daddy, please while he rubs his cock over your cunny. don’t worry, daddy’ll take really good care of you, ruining you for everyone else. gallagher’s gross, really, but you don’t seem to mind.

MR RECA — filming + lingerie

does this even surprise anyone? he’s penacony’s best filmmaker, known for his versatility and ability to make every genre feel appealing to the audience. of course, he can’t stick to traditional movies forever, especially since finding out how much he loves filming you. after begging you to star in a few of his movies (action, romance, whatever!), reca started feeling insatiable, completely head over heels for you. sure, he loves taking you out on cute dates and fucking you silly after, but there’s an itch he just can’t seem to scratch… until he gets the genius (his words) idea to dress you up in lewd, skimpy clothes, a stage costume of some sorts if you will, and film you getting ruined right after. he can’t pick a favorite, and thankfully he has no issues in buying you intricate lace bras or lewd latex thongs — you look great regardless, especially since he seems to have endless recording techniques up his sleeve, always managing to picture you in the best way possible. you don’t even notice, really, as reca plows his cock into you and moves the camera to capture your breasts bouncing in your flimsy bra. but of course, your little movies stay private, between you and him. the public is not deserving of such high quality erotica! (reca just doesn’t want to share you with anyone. you’ll stick to starring in slice of life movies for now.)

PHAINON — cunningulus + dacryphilia

phainon is almost the textbook definition of knight in shining armor, always tending to each and every one of your needs. even in bed, he only cares about your pleasure, spending hours and hours on foreplay, sucking your tits and bruising your neck with endless hickeys, before burying his face in your crotch. you can try to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already, but he doesn’t listen, drunk on your cunny! he sucks agonizingly slow on your poor, swollen clit, then presses wet kisses on your puffy lips before plunging his tongue in your hole. phainon is selfish, however, and despite making you cum countless times more than he does, he still wishes to leave his mark on you, so that everyone can see that you belong to phainon of the crysos heirs. his hands grip on your plush thighs, bruising your flesh, and he’s so much stronger than you — you can’t get him to leave your poor cunt alone even if you tried. when phainon stops, only because you cried a bit too much, he admires the tear stains on your cheeks. there’s a sick thought in his brain, plaguing his mind, of how innocent you look, all fucked out on his bed. the more you cry, the more he feels his cock harden again. but when you call out his name, he goes back to being the same sweet boy you know. he can’t let you know how he truly feels, who he truly is.

#writing #x reader #smut #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan smut #gallagher x reader #gallagher smut #phainon x reader #phainon smut #mr reca x reader #mr reca x you #mr reca smut

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kooyabooya · 2 months ago

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DISAVOW

kim dahyun x m reader

5k words

“Let me get this straight: you slept with Momo?”

(Okay, that’s one way to get a conversation going if you were in Dahyun’s shoes.)

“I’m not gonna ask a second time. Answer the goddamn question.”

–

It already feels wrong to commit the action, and even worse to say it. Most of the day has been pretty bad as it is. Dahyun had a rough day at work when a bunch of things didn’t go her way. Just one unfortunate instance onto the next. Woke up late, missing a few makeup supplies, late to work because of a stupid ticket, and didn’t even get to reshoot the one scene for her role because the director apparently ‘forgot’. She really was just sitting in her trailer till she felt like dying.

As for your case. You had a long day too. So, you slept. Just- not in the way neither you or Momo had suspected. It’s not her fault she flaunted a body too tempting for the average man to resist, especially with that mouth of hers. You had to shut her up, and it’s somewhat safe to say that this was a tipping point of what was happening in the workplace leading up to the incident.

You’re setting the record straight, even if the lines are beginning to be scribbled lazily. Dahyun’s gaze remains unfazed while you’re trying to down as much wine as possible and she just told you that you’ve slept with one of your coworkers plus her best friend and you’re not sure how much worse this ultimatum could get.

Clearing your throat, sighing. Because the day can’t get any shitter. “You- didn’t even give me a chance to speak?”

“Which is why I’m letting you speak now.”

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?!”

“A big deal? Christ- do you hear yourself? With Momo?!” Dahyun raises her voice in agitation. You couldn’t have seen that coming. Scratch that: you definitely should’ve seen it coming.

Did you even think of what was gonna happen? Fuck no.

You and Momo are equally blamed for that.

Recalling the memory of Sana’s party, you remember seeing Momo in that strapless red dress, hot off the sewing machines showcased from the Met Gala, and Chaeyoung herself was even appalled at the appearance. Dahyun also was in agreement, unfailing to look away because she would’ve asked how your reaction would’ve been if she was sheathed in red. And the way Momo strutted her way to you two felt right out of a movie where all the girls are working towards stealing something valuable later.

(In a slight retrospect, yeah. You’ve seen the signs before.)

“Well, aren’t you gonna explain to me why?” Dahyun demands, and you’re wishing the wine was a whiskey instead. This kind of conversation was not one to be done sober.

“What do you want me to say!” You’re exclaiming, a mere move of the arm not tantamount to what you’ve done. “It’s not my fault that she’s equally all over me as you!”

And Dahyun, of all people, knows this. You and her are both sides of the same coin when it comes to Momo being the sole catalyst. Not since you’ve walked in on them accidentally while visiting their dance practice and that was the fastest one-eighty you did ever in your life. Or when Momo pulled you off to the side in some bar and made you forget about the belt left in the bathroom when everything’s all said and done. Or- the time they made you feel like a hotshot when they both visited your office and that was the talking point in the break room for freaking months.

You can sense the rage boiling in Dahyun, so much of it you can actually smell. Steaming off her pale skin in these rare occasions to where it turns into wanting to fuck someone into the sheets. You feel it. It’s hot when Dahyun gets like this, and you want it. The same could be said for Momo when she makes you wanna pop a blood vessel. Depending on the circumstance, and the girl, it varies from moment to moment.

While you can sense the blistering warmth enveloping the room, your hands grip the obsidian countertop to cool your nerves. If you wanted to make the hard choice - and you really, really wished you didn’t - it’s Dahyun. You want the girl who’s been at your side since college but can’t say a word without getting a slap on your arm or pinch of the ear, who willingly gives you a few extra napkins while eating out because she could never finish her meal and doesn’t say much to be annoying in order to get a rise or even when her other friends tease you and she can’t do much to protect either you or herself. Some days her face lights up when she walks out of the office and sees you waiting on the second step leaning on the railing and you look at her at the other corner of the room and wonder how she’d handle your cock. There’s also the fact she would taste so much better than the wine, a fine course once indulging in the appetizers.

Momo, in some corner of the world is probably thinking of this moment and watching with her palms rubbed together, devilishly smiling. Dahyun still can’t believe that you went to Momo. You had a sliver of interest to her friend as much as she did (again, another topic to be saved for another day, but if Dahyun’s pulling your finger, Momo’s doing the exact same thing too) but she’s funny and chaotic and if you really look into it - where you’ve done time and time before - then Momo’s in it for the fun at ripping the seams and leaving no care for the damages she leaves behind. Nayeon or Sana, whoever can get to Momo first, this girl is a problem.

“The fuck you say?”

You inhale deep, lighten your fingers off the edge. It didn’t occur to you what was said just now. “She wants me. Momo wants me, Dahyun. Simple as that. No strings attached.”

Dahyun huffs, toying the ends of her hair. She stares at you sliding the glass further and further away, unbuttoning the ends of your sleeves and you’re beginning to think of the limitless ideas running through her head of how to get your hands tied to her imagination. “Knowing her, I get the fact she’s-” her fingers are in two’s, making quotations, “-a literal sex tornado.”

That should be it. The end of the conversation right there. You and Momo fucked, end of story. Your mind isn’t helping in playing back the memory: eye fucking Momo a week prior, flash forward a few days after, winding up in Momo’s place and focusing on the heat, her finger, that fucking pussy; the messy bangs when you’re holding her head close to yours and her lips next to your ear. Dahyun wished that was her, cumming on your cock instead of Momo. Your wife, who’s within an arm's reach of the assortment of knives, looks at you as you think about Dahyun (or Momo) cumming. The idea of her killing you is a fast way to finish this ordeal.

“I-” Your tongue freezes between the words. “Not arguing with that statement, actually.”

Dahyun laughs, out of pure disbelief, walks her way towards you. Taking the bottle of wine and setting it next to the fridge. “If we’re going to be transparent with each other, no one else is going to get you fucked in the way that I do.”

Clenching your teeth was way much worse than her not grabbing the knife and charging at you. “Momo knows it was a one time thing. It was always gonna be a one time thing.”

“And it should always be me.” Dahyun says. Rolling her eyes with a disgusted crunch on her face

You could see her hand ball up in a fist. Both of your feet remain unmoved and the air hitting your neck comes in tiny pricks.

“Though,” her voice dejected, “seems like one of us has forgotten that.”

You lick your teeth, bite your lip.

“Care to elaborate?”

She looks up, tilts her head one side and to the opposite, shifts her gaze to the empty wine glass, seeing you in her peripheral. “I’m not gonna explain myself here.”

“Why not?”

Her shoulders tense and relax. “No matter who you talk to, whether it’s my friends crushing hard on you or after a long terrible day, I should be the one at the end of it.” Dahyun’s voice becomes increasingly agitated.

“It’s always you. Always.”

“Is that what you think? Have we not done everything to convince ourselves that?” Her hand lightly slaps the countertop, the wisps in her hair falling to the front of her face. “I’m not the one who’s forgotten our commitments.”

Your head starts to spin, heart pounding at an immeasurable rate. “You’re right. I have.”

Dahyun runs a hand down her face, then her neck. She would have these instances under stress, doing everything she can to micromanage herself and not have the other person take notice because: she’s not the kind of girl you’d want to piss off.

Some people- coworkers or co-stars - if you will, were very attentive at how Dahyun operated on and off the clock, watching her do these roles and have a guy or girl you don't even know much about have their care when you know it isn’t the case when she’s behind closed doors with you.

You start to feel uneasy, rubbing your palm across your leg, and when Dahyun crosses her arms as you’re slotting yourself behind. She looks over her shoulder, the slight tension of muscle and you haven’t even put your hands on the girl yet. You’re still gauging, waiting for her to talk. “Dahyun, please,” you mumble, fingers curling her elbows, slithering them in place around her waist.

“You-” and she sighs. “I hate when you do shit like this behind my back, especially if it’s with somebody that I’m also very close with.”

“Momo-”

“Momo told you to go to her.”

“The one time. I swear.”

“And yet you still went while I was out busy.” Dahyun’s accusation doesn’t sit on your nerves right, and your grip softens.

“I was gonna tell you before you left. And it was gonna come off the lines as ‘Hey! I know you’re probably busy, but I need a favor. Does Dahyun mind if I borrow you for a couple hours? Maybe have a few drinks with another person, probably Jihyo, and who knows?’ She could bring a few things over and we can talk about something more interesting besides work.’ That’s how I wished it would’ve gone.”

Dahyun laughs softly. Since you know very well that if you told her some half-assed constructed lie on the spot, she would’ve been fine with it. You’re aware of how jealous she could get without explicitly saying it and show instead. She wouldn’t have stopped you from going that day, and she’s not stopping your hand lightly clutching her breast. “Maybe a heads up from you or Momo would’ve been nice,” she huffs, leaning her head up to where the breath canvases your neck. “Now it looks like I have another thing to deal with once all of this is over with our work.”

“She’s shown you a thing or two, why not have her do it again?” You taunt.

Dahyun rolls her eyes once more. “Starting to think you should’ve married her instead.”

“We are not going there. Momo just went out of line because she’s missing that aspect in her life. I’m not regretting my choice here.”

‘My choice has always been the same as before,’ you felt compelled to say, ‘You.’ Dahyun has every right to be furious. You want to prove everything to her again. “Fucks sake, Dahyun.”

“Don’t twist this back on me.” Her voice snaps. “Enough. I’m tired. Let me get ready for bed. I can save this conversation for later. When we’re both in the right headspace.”

You pull your hands off of Dahyun, but not stepping back. This kind of proximity is always nice to keep. “I'm still guilty as charged?”

“For marrying me? Never.” For being a shortsighted bastard who’s lucky to not be out of the house by now. You wonder about her thoughts, or something like that. “Be glad I like you and Momo both.”

So you settle your bearings and back away. Dahyun hands you the wine bottle for you to place in the fridge while she heads to the bedroom, but stops her tracks when she notices you reach for your phone on the kitchen counter.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Who- are you gonna call?”

You don’t answer her question and press the phone to your ear; you mouth the word ‘Momo,’ and give her a shameless wink as another way to piss her off

(You might be an actual fucking idiot for doing this though you’re doing it anyway.)

There is absolutely no way you’re pressing her buttons after she indirectly threatened to kill you. Calling Momo after what went down is only going to solidify your undoing. You don’t even put the wine back in the fridge and walk past Dahyun, barely getting far as she swipes the phone out your hand and pins you to a nearby cabinet - lips crashing against yours, hard.

Her taste is infectious, parting your lips wider by the second. Mixed with the cold wine and the iced tea along with the fading hints of her lavender mint perfume Dahyun would spray on occasions - it’s not worth fighting against at all, she’s throwing her body onto you; the sweet rush burning from within, bending the will to her and the urge to do the same keeps growing and growing, holding the small of her back while the phone’s cast aside.

The line’s still ringing. She could hear it too, and you’re starting to worry if the call goes to voicemail, slipping a finger or two underneath Dahyun’s jaw and tip it upwards so you can keep her occupied at her neck. Her chest rises, gut sucking in. “For the love of god, Momo, please don’t pick this up,” you murmur, keeping a close eye on the screen while you’re forcing Dahyun to the counter.

Like Dahyun, it seems the universe is against you, because Momo’s lower voice comes over the line in that instant. “Hey, you don’t usually call at this hour. What’s up?”

Dahyun snatches the phone and you’re left clasping the empty hand, wincing, puffing one side of your cheek. She examines the contact name before flashing a look, answering with a soft sing-song tone. “Momo! Hi!”

“Don’t say anything to give it away,” you order. Both hands are on her hips, lifting her up funnily where her feet barely touch the floor, knees touching yours and filling the space in the middle. You could feel the rising heat from her shorts and she won’t deny needing this.

Even in the faces too - close to the point where your cheeks are grazing when Momo says, “Uh, is everything good?” and you can hear the casual innocence with some of the sexual implication laced in the words. You’re saving the trouble with her for another day; for now, you’re just gonna slide your hands up Dahyun’s thighs and beneath her sweater.

“No, no, yeah, I’m okay, I-” Dahyun’s breath stops when your mouth’s pressed open to her neck, and down her collarbone. “Didn’t manage to find my phone in time so I used-”

“Your hubby’s phone instead?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Welp, as if things couldn’t be less serious. Two of your flings are keeping it light with the exchanges. Dahyun looks back at you, a wicked smile emerging. “Girl, what is it with you this time?” Momo’s voice asks, “I swear if it’s about the incident with the dogs-”

“Stop it, now,” you say, and Dahyun shakes her head no with a tempting pout of her lips. As if you’re not slipping off her (your) sweater, for god’s sake. You let your hand skate upward to the clasp of her bra, having it come undone and bring your fingers back around to her small breasts and not do anything about thumbing her nipples in a circular motion and her breathing gets to an irregular rate. Momo’s spilling off into a string of apologies and what Boo and Dooby did to poor Ari to the point where your mouth’s back to the mouthpiece and centimeters off Dahyn’s mouth, whispering: “Hang. The fuck. Up.”

Dahyun glares at you with kneaded brows and it causes a snap in the nerves, bucking back into her.

Really? At a time like this? You shouldn’t be one to test me.

That alone is rewarded with a look of astonishment across her face. Momo on the opposite end of the line sighs to unknowingly make her presence and this girl’s timing is intentionally tragic. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get ahead of myself. Say, did you want me to drop by sometime tomorrow?”

Right when Momo asks that, Dahyun fails to answer since she’s burning lasers directly into your eyes. You’ve got a handful of her breast and the other digging in the waistband of her shorts, aware of the fact that you’re both married to each other and she’s on the phone with one of her best friends who fucked around too much and it’s defiant to the vows; but that’s a one time thing, right?

Dahyun simply just says: “You can. I don’t have anything in the afternoon. Feel free to swing by after lunch,” and she doesn’t falter her gaze at all. She’s winning. Saving the relationship. Not even the headlines or the blade to your heart could ever compare.

You hope it never comes to that.

“Alright. It’s settled then. I’ll see you at your place later,” says Momo on the phone.

“See you soon.” Dahyun replies.

The call goes dead soon after.

Dahyun holds the phone between your faces, staring at you with the endless void past those eyes. You’ve got the green light - the go ahead, you really should, and enticingly could, in the next few seconds, make her feel like the only thing that mattered before she even has a chance to change her mind. A fucking insanity it is to have the thought of asking if she’s okay with this because someone’s gotta play the nice guy here. Silence fills the air with the quiet exhales and the returning beep of the smoke detector down the hall.

“So now you want this?” You remark, hands right where they are - where they’re supposed to be.

Dahyun’s throat bobs. Her eyes flick from your mouth to your eyes and to her body, seeing nothing else but your hair when she feels the lips touch her sweet skin. To be meticulous and not cut the wrong wire is extremely, extremely difficult. The pale shade she carries is warm and soft and you can feel the gentle bump of her heart on your hands and face. Your foot is slipping across the hardwood. All she does is breath carefully and you feel it hit your jaw.

The worst thing she could do is say no. You’re more unsure of not being clear enough and she’ll probably forget it in the next few minutes. That undeclared authority, the unspoken ownership of each other, anything goes if one makes the move first. As much as you’d love to slip your hand beneath her shorts, (if you hadn’t done so already) she has to want it also. So you sigh and tip her forehead to yours. “Dahyun, I need to hear it. How much you want it.”

Her face freezes, holding herself best she could, tilting her head back as she places the phone flat on the counter. It’s bleak, incoherent: “Oh, you have no idea.”

(As if she couldn’t have made it more clearer.)

You pick up right where it’s left off - without the overbearing tension - clutching her sides as she wraps her arms around your neck, flushing her hips with yours. She’s gripping the ends of your hair and keeps kissing while you’re marking up her neck; a power move in stripping her to nothing, and the both of you know it well, picking up the slack where the other leaves. Her hand goes astray, slipping to the phone.

“Don’t even think about it,” you rasp against Dahyun’s mouth, pulling her lower lip.

“Wanna find out what happens if Momo got a facetime call just now?” She mumbles back, grinning.

You feel her hand hook your nape, pressing a thumb down the crease of her thigh with a little more force. “Momo can go fuck herself.”

“Momo managed to get herself fucked by you, didn’t she?”

She giggles while you inhale a sharp sound, fingers curling around the waistband of her shorts and revealing the white ends of her panties. “Save the bullshit for later.”

“Later?” Dahyun’s taunting is one to go up against, when the jealousy is strong enough to be forced back around. Her version of karma. “Why don’t you tell me all the things you did-”

Your fingers graze the fabric, lock eyes with hers. “Dahyun. You wouldn’t fucking call her again. I dare you.”

“Or what-”

Dahyun fixes her gaze when your hand slips out of her shorts, dragging her shorts and white laced panties to the floor. “I suggest you find something to hold. Quick.”

“Hold as in what-”

You spread her thighs open. Okay, maybe this is a little bit rushed. Maybe you should’ve done more of the kissing, the teasing, lay a few more red marks on the plush thighs before ghosting your breath over the exposed flesh in between and put her over your shoulder to the bedroom to show what she signed up for. Instead, your mouth’s been good in this predicament, and the patience can keep you at bay for so long; you lean in with your arm at her leg and just focus on the girl in your hands.

Better than stainless steel. She tastes salty and sweet. You can imagine what it’ll be like when you get to the sticky part.

Dahyun exhales next to you, glancing over to see that she’s kept her eyes up to the air and not doing much to close her mouth. She’s doing that awe expression when one of her costars does something stupid, and it’s not the ideal look you were expecting, shifting your weight a little more forcefully her lower half bucks at the touch. You pinch her hip and lightly tap her clit. “Oh fuck- okay,” gasps Dahyun. Her hand goes lazy and moves the phone off the obsidian and grasps where she can - the shoulders, the back, all the same.

That’s enough to pause for a second and grin wickedly, pupils blown. “Look what happens when you don’t listen.”

“Fuck off.” Dahyun manages, pulling you in at the nape. “Are you gonna keep talking or are you- ah-”

While you’re traversing down a familiar path, in her sensitive areas and remembering the form of her lips on yours, you hold her steady, two fingers inching at the opening. She curses, nails carving up skin, and there’s a light slap of skin to hard surface, clutching to the counter. She’s melting in your arms and the sounds are turning your synapses to mush. You were expecting her to be more adamant, more desperate to make you stay; though, it doesn’t take much for you - no more than ten minutes and you’ve got it all sorted. Either that, or- you know her well enough to fix her up without asking.

If anything it’s the solution she’s been searching for, the same desperation for you to tear her insides and instill the lost belief. Even if it meant for Momo to play a role in commensurating. For Momo to steer you away from the light for just a small moment.

Maybe all of this was the point of it all.

Dahyun stops you with both hands on your chest, catching her breath, staring down your palm flat to her waist. “Momo had no idea what she was getting herself into,” you say, “But she knew what she was doing.”

She looks at you quizzical. “That woman has plans of her own.”

You kneel down to kiss her leaking cunt, earning a heel to the shoulder blade. Soothing the sudden sensation with a lick of her crease at the thigh, keeping your eyes level. “God knows we’re playing her game instead.”

“As if,” breathes Dahyun, and lightly slaps your face. But that doesn’t stop you from going at her neck. “Keep the ‘what if’s’ all you want. Don’t you dare leave me like this.”

“Who said I’d hold back on you?”

So you’re leaning back in, deeper. Meet her mouth and slot your tongue to her lips and get your fingers warm again. “You knew I had an eye on Momo ever since that time. And it seems like she had the same thought,” you proclaim.

Her knee grazes your side and her foot wraps to your ass. “What if I were to go to Momo the next time around? What then?”

“You wouldn’t, Dahyun,” you grumble, sliding your fingers out and swiping them on the inside of her thigh. “Why don’t we find out if the roles are reversed.”

“Start with me first,” she demands.

“With pleasure,” you relent, and you’re yanking her from the small of her back, stabilizing herself with the foot to your posterior. The grip to your neck, into the defined muscle, and she’ll keep on holding on for dear life if the bruises are meant to stay for eternity. You want her to reciprocate the wanting, let her mark you for the keepsake. “You’re gonna owe me for this once it’s over - when I can make you cum like she can’t replicate-”

“Healthy competition,” she seethes, and her whole body tenses when you let her flat on the counter to tend the wet lines on her legs. Nibbling gently; enough to indirectly say that you’ll fall on your knees but still have the power.

“I could go to her tomorrow.” You propose to Dahyun with her foot on your collarbone before slipping past your back, the angle left open for your hand to resume the unfinished work. “Bring up last night, and ask what she did to me that you didn’t have, then tell her the predicament we’re in. I could even bring you along to confess the whole thing. Now that would be interesting.”

This might be a little out of line for your standards. Possessiveness? Toxicity? All the boxes are being ticked off for the times you had to peel Dahyun off from the girls. Sana didn’t take much convincing. Tzuyu is attached to the poor girl’s hip. Nayeon wouldn’t shut up about liking Dahyun’s ass. At the end of the day, she’s yours. No one could ever get her like this and the whole world knows it.

It shouldn’t piss you off this much but it is; you alone knows how dangerous it could be to drop the healthy mindset and let the anger flow into the fucking, but this is Dahyun at her most vulnerable - where she’s burning red and addicting in your mouth, and you’ve kept it calm and lighthearted half the times. And this is one of the many where you’re itching to ruin her.

“What more do I have to do to make you see me, and only me,” she sneers, lost in rapture and her pools of black and her seeping cunt. “This pussy should be enough as it is, no?

“Fuck yes,” you gasp, bitting another open area of skin left unclaimed. “Trust me, I’m getting you there, but if you wanna keep complaining-”

Her back arches and she’s near your heart. “You motherfucker-”

You angle your head for a better view and- aw, pitiful. Fixing her up with the opposite hand to her hip and close to the end of the counter, Dahyun setting herself straight so her face is right in front of yours. “What’s wrong? Gonna cum for me?” You hover over her mouth. Go off the deep end. Fast. Rough. Her teeth almost cut the end of your tongue off. The grip she has in her small hands is steel tight, but her legs aren’t following the same page. “It’s okay, baby,” you coax again, muffling the moan passing through her lips, “relax-”

Almost there. She’s almost there. In the pace of her breaths and clenching of her stomach - the lavender and faint hints of mint fogging your vision and it’s fucking fantastic - there we go, cmon honey, do it, do it, you can’t take much more of this-

Dahyun buries her face into the side of your throat and she does, the whine loud enough tells you how hard as a plus.

The feeling is probably up there in the few times throughout your life: Kim Dahyun squirting and cumming on your fingers, sobbing and sweating and spilling whimpers down your chest as you’re easing her in the motions. You can get her like this again later, fuck the sense out of her brain and body where she can’t function, and your name the only psalm she can recite to convert her ideals.

You’re patting her back and shushing her on the come down, breaths still hot on your collarbone. By the way, you’ve still got your fingers deep inside her, initiating her to pinch your shoulder, shift the hands around to where she’s most comfortable.

Her breathing intertwined with yours joins the creaking of the floorboards beneath, securing her at her ass while her upper body is still at your chest. Still naked and weakly pulling your shirt off, shuffling to the couch to rest from the short trip. Cradling your head with her hair in a worse mess than before, earnestly staring at you so lovingly. The sparkle in your eyes gives a faint smile across her lips and you’re left speechless. It’s hard for you to ignore the tightness in your pants, tapping your fingertips across her skin, and you’re not thinking about Momo as much now.

In the end, it was always going to be Dahyun. You love the idea of claiming her as yours. Making her cum like that before your clothes have even dropped to the floor. It’s an adoration in itself - pressing your lips to hers and to her temple - the many instances of adoring her, all fucked out and barren, resting on you with the trail of clothes back in the kitchen and making an indirect vow that she belongs with you. That alone should be enough to stay with you forever.

So it does. When the tension is finally past the highest. She lifts her head off of you and blinks.

“You made me squirt on my favorite sweater.”

“Oops.” you chuckle.

She could’ve said anything else. Not even the red blotches and bite marks can ever suffice the way she’s back to her straightforward and subtle self. You won’t forget she was on the precipice of killing someone tonight and you just gave her an orgasm as a way of forgiveness but aware enough for it to come bite you back in the ass someday. Whether you’re at each other’s throats or suffocating at the clench or thrust later - it’ll be found out eventually, but all you say is: “For the record, that was my sweater.”

Dahyun fakes a laughing sound. “My bad for dropping your phone.”

“You wanna go there?”

Dahyun then laughs genuinely, her body extending all the loose ends so simply but very delicately. “No, dingus. We’re fine,” she reassures, swinging one leg off and the other and you can’t keep your eyes off of that ass of hers.

You track her pathing through the house barefoot and naked and consciously; picking up the sweater, her shorts, and the panties too - your phone back on the counter and not to be checked for the rest of the night. She slips into the hallway and a few seconds pass, turning the other cheek when she’s in a used soccer jersey.

She leans her shoulder onto the wall and puts her back to the drywall, and you feel suspended in time just staring at each other. Your thumb runs across the four fingertips and run your tongue on the edge of your teeth. Her blush is faded and eyes half-open. Legs defined by the muscle and her hips just meet the end of his shirt, not to mention the waist forming as the cotton’s pulled to the rear. That boner’s still there, too, and manspreading the only method to do right where she left you, she’s definitely seen it before and it’s amazing how she hasn’t mentioned it yet.

Breaking the silence: “I don’t think I can stand up, babe.”

Dahyun sighs, shaking her head and beaming a soft smile. “Were you thinking about me or Momo just now?”

You laugh, because she has it figured out. “If I answered the latter, then my dick would be chopped off.” Besides, it won’t be that long for you to ignore the clothes if she’s keeping her distance with that choice of clothing - especially the fact she definitely has nothing underneath.

It’s on purpose too. She still needs her fix, after all.

There’s a reason she’s not helping you, nor suggesting for you to wash up because there’s a whole lot of mess left to be dealt with. And the thought of not doing anything was also a plausible choice - though that would piss her off even more - Dahyun observes when you finally stand and walk toward her. Watching as the height difference increases the more she tilts her gaze upwards.

Sinning and penance are both routes to take from the shared cause. You either let your head fill with regret, or channel that devotion to someone who’s willing to take it all. That familiar swing of tension is in the air once again. “So, what will it be, sir?”

You lean down and take her lips. Lift her off her feet and have them bracket around your waist. “Seems like I still owe you.”

“Oh really,” she sighs, moaning again when the touches are more desperate, rough. Carrying her through the corridor and into the bedroom, but not until she stops at the walkway. “You think this will be enough for you to stay away from Momo?”

You arch an eyebrow. “It takes more than my decision to make that happen.” It should, you also think, but Dahyun doesn’t expand on that answer.

“Fuck me good till the morning and I’ll leave it up to you,” says Dahyun, and you nod. Her string of laughs and moans growing louder in the bedroom and that’s everything you ever needed.

–

It’s not until much later when you’re staring into space, where the whirr of the espresso machine doubles down on the trance as you try to process the events unfolded in the past couple weeks. The tinge on your lips and the soreness at your cock. Your head spinning in the endless cycle of self-introspection until it’s ended by the vibration of your phone on the counter, left untouched from last night.

A message notification on the screen: still left me out to dry, i see how it is :// <3 🍑

Whether to reply or leave it on read is a personal decision.

#twice smut #dahyun smut #twice dahyun smut #kpop smut #kpop x male reader #dahyun #kim dahyun

708 notes · View notes

blythedolly · 1 month ago

Text

6 days later

—♡ synopsis: when leon tries to confess his feelings, his lack of self control takes over once again.

—♡ warnings: pervy leon (he’s kinda gross but in a hot way), innocent girly reader, possessiveness, teasing, loss of virginity, fingering, handjob, oral sex (reader receiving), biting, choking, aftercare, confession of feelings, fluff, best friends to lovers. not for minors. read part one here!

it had been 6 intensely slow days since leon had painted a very confusing picture between your legs with his tongue, and you had absolutely no intention of bringing it up. you were unsure if it was shyness, or fear of ruining the sweet friendship you shared with him. you decided if anyone was going to bring this up first, it would be leon. he was the one who initiated it, so it's only fair.

you had seen him almost every day since, your usual friendly (nearly too friendly to be considered platonic in any form) ways of showing affection to each other were established. as always. leon’s large hands drawing pictures on your sweet thighs as you sat between his legs. back resting against his hard chest. his other hand busy playing with the pretty pink bows in your hair. the differences in styles was one of leon’s favorite things. you were always wearing the most girly attire, tonight was a pretty pink tank and those pj shorts that are very familiar to him, meanwhile, he was wearing a black tank and grey sweats.

obviously, you couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened, and it was making you mad that he hadn’t brought it up. but tonight was movie night and you were staying over. in which you always talked each other’s ears off. surely he was going to bring it up, right?

blush crept up on your cheeks at the thought of the event, and your cotton panties grew wet as you recollected how his tongue felt as it separated your folds in the most erotic and obscene way. the effect he had over you has always been quite ridiculous, but now it has just gotten worse. so much worse.

you used your smart brain, which he always complimented and praised and thought of the sweet memory as your fingers desperately swirled around your clit. every single night since. you wondered if he touched himself at the thought too, you hoped he did.

god, you hoped that he did.

you looked back at him carefully as your head rested against his muscular shoulder, his eyes focused on the screen whilst the movie played, his hand still resting on your bare thigh.

why isn't he saying anything? was I just a one-time fling?

his eyes were heavy, he was getting tired. you sighed and looked away from him, but felt your tummy flip once you realized how loud it sounded when it escaped your mouth.

he noticed immediately and his eyes traveled down to you.

“are you gonna tell me what's wrong, doll?” he asks, as if he didn’t already know what you were thinking.

“no,” you muttered, staring blankly at the screen. he repositions himself, and you. moving you from between his legs so you were facing each other. you huff, crossing your legs as he rests his head against his headboard.

“tell me. now.”

“leon n-”

“it wasn't a question, tell me what’s on your mind,” leon moves his hand back onto your thigh. fuck, why is he doing this?

“why are you doing this to me, leon?” you ask, your tone as serious as it could possibly sound. leon tried to fight off a smile, it just sounded so cute to him. but he knew it irritated you when people didn’t take you seriously.

“doing what?” he asks, you roll your eyes.

“you had your mouth between my legs not even a week ago and now you’re acting as if nothing even happened? I thought you liked me but obviously I was just a stupid fling of yours or something,” you blurted out, tears brewing in your eyes. he could hear the pain in your sweet voice, and it made him frown. you moved quickly to stand up, but his hand wrapped around your arm. pulling you back to him.

“that's not what that was at all, oh my god. I do like you, so much more than a friend,” he says, wiping away a tear that fell from your eye. “I was just.. ashamed that I didn't tell you, and I just acted out my feelings by not being able to control my impulses. I was horny, and I couldn't control myself around you anymore.” you blinked many times as he spoke, listening to his words closely.

“i get horny too, leon. really horny. i’m not some prude. you don’t have to treat me like i don’t know anything about sex just because you’re more experienced than i am,” you tell him, finally gaining the courage to meet his eyes. “I wear this kind of stuff around you for a reason,” you add, barely above a whisper.

leon’s demeanor abruptly changes due to your confession, his grip on your arm growing tighter. “say that again,” he demands. you gulp nervously.

“i.. I wear that stuff around you on purpose... I wanted you to see my... my pussy when i bent over,” you say shyly, he groans. feeling himself twitch in his boxers.

you were disgusting, just like him. and he fucking loved it.

he pulls you onto his lap roughly, plushy thighs straddling his waist. you gasp, enjoying the way his roughness hurt your skin. your cushiony cheeks blushing as you met his eyes once again. his hand creeps towards your inner thighs, watching your facial expressions closely. your lips were slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed and your eyes were heavy. convinced he could cum alone just by the effect he has over you. over your sweet body.

“i bet you've thought about my tongue a lot. huh, sweet girl?” you nod your head, distracted by the way his fingers circled the skin of your inner thighs. so close to your beating little button.

“i’ve thought about it too,” he leans forward, his lips not even a centimeter from your own. “think about my mouth on that pretty little cunt all the fucking time,” you whined, hips instinctively bucking forward to seek friction. unable to hold himself off any longer, his hand finally made contact. gripping your plushy pussy over your shorts.

“same ones you wore when I buried my face in here, huh? how cute..” you moaned, nodding your head. “y-yeah, knew you liked them so...”

“I do like them, but I also want to rip them the fuck off,” he says, his tone sounding aggressive, yet so sexy and desperate. it was only making your cunt throb. “and your panties. think you can do that for me, baby?” you whine softly at the pet name.

you move off his lap for a moment, slipping your pj shorts and soft panties down your legs before straddling him once more. placing both of your hands on his strong shoulders. he bit his lip at your eagerness, and his perviness was making you so fucking wet.

“you’re dripping, disgusting little thing you are,” he smirks, sliding his fingers through your puffy lips. you gasped, his pupils dilating at the sight of his fingers between your legs “getting a wet pussy over my gross words and lack of self control..”

“mhm,” you mutter, eyes fluttering closed as his fingers touch every crevice between your sensitive folds.

“what am I going to do with you? hmmmm...” he knows exactly what he's going to do with you. he just had fun taunting you. his desperate, dumb, sweet angel.

“n-need you to touch me again... please,” your hands squeeze the material of his tank, naked hips humping his hand as it explores your cunt. “do you wanna.. do you wanna fuck me, leon?” you ask, your sweet voice making him melt.

“of course I do, baby,” he smiles, finally pressing his lips to yours. he immediately pushed his tongue inside of your mouth. the kiss was messy and borderline disgusting, but you loved it. every time you whined into his mouth, he added more pressure with his fingers between your legs. then suddenly, two of his thick fingers pushed inside of your dripping hole. you screamed into his mouth at the intrusion, the stretch of his fingers bringing tears to your eyes. his self control had clearly been thrown out the window once again, but you didn't care. because it felt so good.

“such a good girl,” he praises, causing your walls to clench tightly around his fingers. he uses his free hand to grab ahold of your own, lowering it between leon’s legs. “gonna make you cum so many times tonight. think you can make me cum too, yeah?” he says against your lips, you nod your head.

“atta girl,” he smiles, moving your hand into his sweats. “just do exactly what you think you should, think you can be a good girl and do that for me, baby?” you blush, nodding your head even more eagerly than the first. you do as he says. slipping your fingers into his sweats and boxers, wrapping your fingers around his rock hard cock. he groaned, bucking his hips into your hand. “fuck, good fucking girl.”

you were a little unsure of what you were doing, but leon's reactions and words reassured you that you were doing good. his own fingers became relentless inside of you in return, your soft moans filling his room every time he hit a sensitive spot inside you. you moved your soft hand up and down his shaft continuously, your thumb swiping the bead of precum off his tip which made his eyes roll back. “just like that, mhm,” he moaned, moving his head back so he could watch your face contort. he knew you were close, you were breathless, humping his hand like a bunny in heat.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, pretty baby? is that why your face is all scrunched up?” he asks, and you nod. he speeds up his fingers, and you fall apart with no warning. you scream as your body convulses on his lap, your glistening cum painting his hand and wrist. the way you were shaking caused his own orgasm, muttering profanities as he came inside of his boxers, his cum leaking onto your fingers. he slowed his fingers inside of you as he grabbed your hand, moving it up to your mouth. you lick his semen off of your fingers with delight, looking into his eyes. you could've sworn his eyes went dark at the sight, like there was a demon inside of him trying to escape.

you giggle as he watches, making a little show out of it.

“dirty little thing, fuck,” he smiles, finally removing his fingers from your warm pussy. he licks your wetness off, groaning at your sweet taste. before you could finish coming down from your intense high, he threw you down on the bed. pinning you down with his large body. just about tearing off your tank top, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

“god, look at you,” he mutters, looking down at your body. “could do anything to you and you'd just fucking take it.” you whine as he lowers his head, tracing his nose along your jawline and neck. he inhales deeply. he's making you feel like prey. he’s the hungry wolf, and you're the poor animal he's about to feast on. you almost feel ashamed that your cunt is pulsing by his actions. you love it so much.

he moves his way down your body, biting at your breast before taking your nipple into his mouth. he sucks hard, making your back arch off his mattress. your whines only making him more devious. he moves his attention to the other one momentarily before biting and licking his way down your torso. leaving as many marks as he possibly could.

“gonna fucking destroy you, sweetheart. make you mine forever,” he smirks against the skin on your tummy, before biting reasonably hard. you gasp, the action causing you to spread your legs wide for him. he settles between them, gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. he sucks dark marks onto your soft thighs, biting them until he could taste your sweet crimson blood on his tongue. he wasn't ashamed at being disgusting with you anymore, what was the point in holding back when you were just as disgusting as him?

he licks over the teeth shaped wounds, collecting every drop of your blood. you found yourself wanting to beg, beg for his tongue on your pussy, but you were enjoying it all too much. you never wanted it to end.

“don't even need to do this, since you're so fuckin wet,” he says, sliding his tongue painfully slow against your dripping wet hole. “but this is for me.” he groans, before latching his mouth onto your entire pussy.

you moan loudly, back arching off the bed. your hand flies down to his hair, pulling the golden strands harshly. he groans into your cunt, his lips sucking on your clit as if he was put on earth solely to please you. “l-leon, oh god...” you whine, leon groans into your pulsing cunt. shaking his head from side to side. he was relentless.

the coil in your tummy was already on the verge of snapping, leon could tell by the way you were clenching around his tongue. he raised his hands to pinch both of your nipples, desperate to have you falling apart all over his mouth and tongue once again.

you gripped his hair tight and bucked your tired hips into his face as you came, gushing into his mouth and all over his tongue. your screams filled the room, and the way you convulsed on his face just made him wanna stay like this forever.

he finally moves his head, and you whine as he gets up. towerring over your exhausted frame. “relax, baby.” he smirks, pulling down his sweats and boxer shorts.

your eyes travelled down his body, breath hitching as he revealed his cock to you. you gulped, it was very big. at least 7 inches, veiny and perfectly curved. you bit your lip, legs still wide open at his despair.

“i’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy for real now, okay?” you whimper, nodding your head. making sure your thighs were spread open as far as they could go. he moves between your thighs, hovering over you, feeling his warm cock hitting your inner thighs. he captures your lips in a messy kiss, letting you taste yourself as he slid his cock up and down your dripping core until it was covered in your cum.

he wastes no time, lining it up with your entrance and sliding it in slowly. it gave everything in his not to thrust it all in at once, but this was your first time. he may not have had self control, but he'd never want to scare or hurt you. he went in inch by inch, paying close attention to your gasps and facial expressions. since you were so prepared, needy and wet, he bottomed out in no time.

once he was fully inside you, you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching around him so tightly. it felt so good being so full. full of him. the sting almost had you drooling. his eyes rolled back as he appreciated your tightness, stretching your delectable pussy open for the very first time. he felt so privileged.

“feel too good… fuck. are you ready for me, baby?” he asks through an abundance of groans, and you nod your head. with that, he began fucking you. he started out with slow thrusts, moaning into your mouth as your tight walls sucked him in impossibly deep. he was able to control himself, but as soon as the words, “please, more leon,” fell from your pleading lips, it was over.

he began drilling into you, hard and fast. you screamed for his repeatedly and your nails clawed down his arms. he was groaning loud as he abused your hole, he couldn't help but watch your pussy as he slid his cock in and out. god, it was sinful. he could've started drooling when he saw the ring of cream your cunt had left at the base of his cock.

your hands moved to his back, scratching pretty marks into his skin as he kept up his relentless pace.

“god... look at you, taking me like you were fucking made for me,” he says breathlessly, eyes still locked onto the sight of your cunt sucking him in. you tried to respond, but the pleasure was too intense, all you could do was pathetically whine. “you were made for me. all this time... I’ve known it. you’re fucking mine,” you moaned at his words, feeling the familiar tingles in your stomach once again.

“yours... all yours... always,” you whine, and before you could think anymore, you were cumming around his relentless cock. your back arched and your torso pressed against yours as leon’s ears were met with the most sinful scream he'sever heard. you were convulsing and drooling. he came at the same time. how could he not? groaning loud as his hot load flooded into you. he couldn't stop staring at you as you came for him. he slowed his thrusts once you had finished, wrapping his arms around you once he had eventually stopped. his cock still buried inside of you.

“oh my god, baby,” he laughs, pressing a soft kiss to your jawline. you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. he held you close, feeling you shake in his arms. he was so proud of himself.

“lost control again.... hm?” you mutter out with a smile. he laughs, nodding his head.

“maybe a little bit,” he replies, a gentle blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“mhmmm, me too,” you add, looking up at his. he leans down kissing your lips. this one being soft and delicate, not like the others. you smiled, brushing a loose strand of his hair behind his ear. before either of you could say anything else, he pulled out slowly. he kisses your head gently before moving off of you. you whine as his presence moves further away from you. he heads into the bathroom, grabbing a warm wet towel for you. he comes back and cleans you up, so gently and carefully. he grabs one of his clean shirts and you sit up as he pulls it onto your body. he smiles to himself, so different to the clothes you’re usually wearing. he moves his attention to your soft hair, fixing the loose strands. you blushed. smiling down at your lap.

once he was done, he sits back on the bed and pulls you onto his lap. “gonna take you out to dinner tomorrow night,” he blurts out, and you smile.

“oh really?” you ask, playing with the hem of the shirt you now wore.

“mhm, i need to do this right. without the temptation of a bed nearby,” he jokes, and you giggle.

“sounds good,” you say shyly, which he notices.

“oh come on, how could you still be shy after all of that? my cock was just inside of you for fuck sake,” he chuckles, his words making you hide your face in your hands.

“leonnnn, stop,” you whine, laughing nervously. he grabs your hands and moves them away, kissing them both.

“it’s okay, baby. don't you hide from me,” he says, fiddling with your fingers as he spoke. you nod your head softly, you look at his, his heart skipping a beat as he stares at your beautiful features.

“i’ve fallen so hard for you, i hope you know that,” he adds, hearing the nervousness in his tone. you smiled, finally hearing the words you wanted to hear. your best friend liked you back, as more than just a best friend. holding in your excitement was almost impossible, but you did it.

“i’m yours, leon. in every way,” you say as your eyes meet his. “i’ve always been yours,” you cup his cheeks in your hand, kissing his lips softly

he felt so lucky. you were his girl. his sweet, precious girl. always.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4

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krokodilsredimudil · 13 days ago

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ST s2: how costumes mirror character arcs and personalities

On my rewatch I noticed that in s2 a lot of characters dress up and the costumes always tell a story.

Steve and Nancy: Joel and Lana

Steve and Nancy are dressed up as Joel and Lana from Risky Business (1983).

They've been planning their outfits for some time:

A cute couple look, you'd say?

WRONG The movie is about a rich high school boy Joel who meets a hooker (a call girl) and they organize a brothel in his house (that's presented as Joel's character's growth, he became 'an entrepreneur', got a stupid amount of money becoming a pimp, yay). They part ways in the end (She was also lying to him throughout the movie and orchestrated his house robbery) (Just like Nancy was lying to Steve about her feelings and they separated)

We know that Nancy's a fan of Tom Cruise.

Of course she would like the movie. But actually choosing the character of Lana is OOC for her. Unless Steve has chosen their outfits!

Joel is a lot like Steve: a popular guy, rich parents who dictate his future, strict house rules. I can totally imagine Steve making Nancy dress up as Lana because he saw himself in Joel.

2) Joyce and Bob: Mina and Dracula

Winona Ryder played Mina/Elisabeta in Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) and the Duffers (nerds!!!) couldn't resist referencing this scene. (NERDS)

Plot-wise, Mina and Dracula were a thing in this movie with Mina loving her husband Jonathan and Dracula at the same time. A possible hint at a Bob-Joyce-Hopper love triangle.

Dracula also dies in Mina's arms. Foreshadows Bob's death at the end of the season.

3) the Party: Ghostbusters

Juxtaposition.

Will's costume is handmade while Lucas, Mike and Dustin's are store bought. A classic reminder of how different their social backgrounds are.

Two Venkmans:

The continuation of Lucas/Mike 'rivalry' in the Party. Lucas and Mike are both striving for leadership. They are compared and contrasted throughout the whole show. Sharing the role of Peter Venkman in the group is a metaphorical way of showing this (Dr. Peter Venkman was the leader of the Ghostbusters).

In season 1 Lucas was against El being in the Party while Mike was actively trying to advocate for her. Season 2 switched their dynamic – now Lucas is the one who wants another girl (Max) to join their Party. Dustin also calls Mike and Lucas best friends (s1) separating himself from the two and highlighting their roles in the Party.

2. Nobody wants to be Winston. Being a black guy in the 80's in a small Indiana town was a shitty experience: casual racism and casual slurs were very common. s1 was more open in that department, s2 is more subtle. However, this lays a foundation for the later Billy/Lucas conflict.

Worth mentioning: the obvious 'possessed love interest' (Will/Max) interpretation of the 'Two Venkmans' scene.

4) Max: Michael Myers

This one is particularly interesting because at the end of Halloween II Michael Myers 'dies': Laurie, the main protagonist, shoots him in both eyes blinding him and then he perishes in fire. In Halloween IV we find out that Michael didn't die and was in a coma for 10 years.

Crazy how they thought everything through...

5) El: The ghost costume

We get it, they are incompatible. No 'ghosts' for Mike.

El's arc that season reminds me of 'ghosts' as well.

She's barely seen (if not at all) but her presence is felt.

Her ghost costume is also a reference to E.T.

6) El: the Kali makeover

El's character arc is about her identity, she wants to find out who she is as a person: is she Eleven, a lab kid? is she Jane? is she one of Kali's bandits? or someone else?

Throughout the whole show she's trying to find the answer and her outfits show that path.

The 'bitching' look definitely doesn't match who she is at her core. She's still a child who was dressed to look like an adult (or an MTV punk, if you will)

The baby mask that El wore is proving the same point.

The mask is literally a baby with makeup. Fitting, right?

7) Snow ball: the Party

This one is ... weird. We all know the fact that the Snow Ball outfits might show the boys 'future careers'.

But is it even true? The only piece of information I found is this bit from an interview with Kim Wilcox, s2 costume designer.

The way I see it, 'might be becoming' refers to their personalities and how they gradually mature and find their sense of self. Not their actual 'future careers'.

The outfits also show their role models at the time: Dustin is copying Steve (the hair), Will is dressed like Mr Clark.

Of course, there are other possible inspirations and references but these two are the most obvious.

Remember 'I specifically asked not to be Winston' line? Lucas' grey jacket and shirt remind me of Winston lmao.

8) Snow ball: El

El is literally dressed and styled like Nancy: the same eyeshadow and lipgloss. She's probably wearing Nancy's dress.

El and Nancy are both wearing golden bracelets on the same arm. Nancy probably gave El the clothes and helped her with makeup. Familial parallels never end with Mike and El and we love to see it.

Worth mentioning: Hopper finally gave El the hair tie symbolizing him moving on from the loss of Sarah.

TLDR: The Costume Department rocks!

#st rewatch #stranger things #thirddufferbrothering #kinda

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dreamsteddie · 7 months ago

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Nancy knows what people think when they see her and Steve together these days. People mostly include Robin Buckley who, despite what they both say, Nancy doesn't completely believe isn't carrying some kind of torch for the man.

They aren't dating, but it's obvious to anyone who knows them that's what Nancy is angling for. She's not subtle, and she's not trying to be. Doesn't see any reason why she should be. But she knows what it looks like. Nancy Wheeler, fresh off an amicable but heartbreaking end to her relationship with Johnathan Byers has turned tail for a rebound with former boyfriend Steve Harrington. She's using him. She's leading him on. She's going to break his heart, again.

The truth is that Nancy has always liked Steve, was in love with Steve for a fleeting moment when they were both young and stupid and full of mistakes waiting to be made and in the end they had hurt each other, misunderstood each other, too many times to last through their tumultuous teenage years.

The Nancy and Steve of 1984 couldn't have loved each other right, but Nancy knows in her heart that the Nancy and Steve of 1987 could make something beautiful.

Steve is so different from who he used to be. There's a steadiness in him that he always tried to emulate but never fully embodied until the summer of 1985. He always knew how to make her laugh, how to get her to tap into that adventurous spirit within her and live life, but now he also makes her feel safe.

She wants to hold him the way he used to hold her. Wants to whisk him away to New York and build a life perfectly balanced between her ambition and his steadfastness. So she's putting everything she has into rekindling those embers that have always smoldered between them into a steady fire.

She just has to convince Robin that she's in it for the long haul this time.

------

Robin thinks that before she met Steve Harrington her life was never so much like a soap opera.

Her best friend seems to attract danger, betrayal, and romance to him like the world is full of moths and he's the only flame for miles. It would be funnier if it wasn't so god damn annoying sometimes.

Steve doesn't know it, despite how much he insists on being some kind of love expert, but he's got two very eligible bachelors vying for his hand at the moment. She's pretty sure they both see themselves as tragic heroes in this tale of romance, but from her vantage point, it's more like two ornery cats fighting for the prized spot of their owner's lap.

Nancy and Eddie have made themselves both near-permanent fixtures at the Family Video. Ostensibly, they come in because Hawkins is still in the process of rebuilding and there isn't much to do at the moment outside of wandering the woods, loitering at the convenience store, and watching movies at home. In actuality they're both trying to monopolize as much of Steve's time as possible, each trying to lock down his weekend plans before the other.

The first couple of weeks it was funny just to watch, now the only enjoyment she gets out of the whole circus is ruining their plans. She relishes the pissed-off-priss look she gets from Nancy when she asks Steve to go to the drive-in the next town over and Robin turns it into a group outing instead. It's equally funny to watch Eddie's puffed-up shoulders droop when he can't figure out a way to say no to Robin enthusiastically asking if she can join them at the trailer to smoke up on a Saturday night.

In truth, as much as she enjoys messing with them, Robin knows who she wants to win this war. She knows too much about Steve and Nancy's past and all the ways they weren't good for each other to trust her deceptively fragile best friend in Nancy's capable hands.

Eddie, on the other hand...well she's still going to make him work for it before she throws him a bone.

------

Eddie's never been one to fall in love.

He's had crushes, shared a few kisses with girls and boys alike, and lost his virginity in the same fumbling but meaningful way most teens do.

But love? He's never had that before, wasn't sure what it would even feel like.

It turns out that for Eddie, being in love feels a lot like being an overgrown house plant that's finally been moved into suitably a larger pot.

You see, Eddie knows a lot about growing up on his own. Raising himself and finding ways to survive, if not thrive, with a distinct lack of nurturing. He knows how to grow under someone, to grow under the clumsy guidance of his uncle Wayne who never intended to become a parent. And most of all he knows a hell of a lot about growing despite. Growing under the harsh boot forever trying to push him back into the hard dirt he came from.

It's something else entirely to grow with someone in the way he's been growing with Steve.

Steve who was there when he woke up, almost equally as injured as Eddie himself after a second, world saving round with Vecna. Steve who let Eddie lean on him in the difficult month of physical and emotional recovery that came next. Who helped Eddie come to terms with the new reality he was living under the way Steve wished someone had been there for him after his first encounter with the Upsidedown. Steve, who on paper should have been one of the people pushing him down, always gave Eddie the space to be himself and never tried to force either of them into a box they didn't fit.

Eddie knows he's not The Girl. He's not the one who got away, he's not the stalwart princess in one of his campaigns who saves the day herself but still gets the guy. He's not Nancy Wheeler.

But he's also not a quitter, and even if everything about the world and the narrative arc of their lives says that Steve will never end up with him, Eddie knows he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't put his hat in the ring for the hand of the fair Sir Steve.

------

Steve's not stupid.

He knows that there's something happening between Nancy, Eddie, and himself. Knows that if he chooses to look a little closer, to examine why exactly all his weekends are suddenly booked up and Robin has taken to stealing the Recese's Pieces off the shelf whenever either one of them comes into the store like she's settling in for a show, he would come to the conclusion that two of his best friends are essentially courting him in competition with each other.

But Steve isn't looking closer.

His mom always said that he was just like his father, too stubborn for his own good.

Robin says he's a control freak, pushing non-life-threatening problems off until he knows how to deal with them on his own terms.

The truth is Steve already knows how this will end, and he knows how this should end.

Because in the eyes of society, in the arc of the narrative, Steve and Nancy should already be making plans to move out to New York and start a life together. Steve should be looking at apartments while Nancy finalizes her class schedule. He should be looking into getting a job at his dad's New York office to support his future wife through her college education where they both know she'll breeze through her classes and move onto the world-changing career she was always meant to have, while Steve stays home with their children like a perfect little modern family.

And the thing is, if the story had gone like it was supposed to, if the world had been saved the fourth time around and Eddie Munson had died on the cold, hard ground of the Upsidown, that's probably exactly the future that would have happened and Steve would have never known to not be content with it. But Eddie did make it, and while Steve mourns the future he could have had, he knows it's not the one he's going to choose in the end.

Even though Steve knows exactly what will happen when he allows himself to face the ever-mounting tension between the three of them, it's scary to take that plunge.

Everything about Steve's world up until Robin has told him that what he's going to choose will damn him forever, and even if he's never put much stock into God and the church, he knows that the future in front of them will never be easy. There's a part of him that wants to take the easy way out. He's never been attracted to a man before Eddie, never had to imagine himself loving someone discreetly, and the thought of it makes his heart hurt prematurely. It would be simpler, he knows, to choose the path most taken.

But Steve has always thought more with his heart than his brain, and he knows that after everything they've been through, after all the time they've spent healing together and growing as one that he could never choose anyone but Eddie.

The time is coming for him to make his final decision, he can feel it, but for now he'll let them sit in this liminal space a little longer.

#steddie #stranger things #dreamer speaks #fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckly #this one is a little different #but it's been floating around my head for a while #lmk what you think!#Edit: 12/22 for spelling and gramatical errors

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hellfire--cult · 2 months ago

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🩷 Steve x Reader - Fluff, friends to lovers, modern!au

wc: 1.5k

So what if you used a TikTok trend so you could have an excuse to kiss your best friend (aka, the guy you have liked for years now) for the first time ever? Would he reciprocate?

a/n: It came to me in a vision of melatonin and yearning, and steve edits, this is not proofread, i wrote from my heart and my want to kiss this man stupid

⚡

Deep breath in, and out.

You could do this. You planned it out. It’s the perfect scenario for you to make a move and then play it off as a joke if it didn’t turn out as you expected and wanted. It would suck if it didn’t turn out the way you wanted, but that’s a heartbreak you could learn to live with later. You will never know what could truly happen if you don’t take this chance.

Your best friend had gone to the toilet, and you were staring at the big screen at the very far back of the drive-in cinema. It was a usual setup for the two of you. You had the bags of fast food at your feet, ready to be eaten, as the movie played in the background. This time, it was different. You were planning on doing something that would change your life forever, and it could make you lose your best friend or change the friendship into something more. Something you wanted.

You took his phone out of the phone stand that he stuck on the dashboard for GPS purposes, and you put up yours. You searched for your camera and selected the video setting. This was a crazy idea, and maybe immature, but you had a safety cushion if worse were to happen. You fixed your hair and you grabbed your purse, taking out your lip oil to put some on your lips. Your heart was in your throat as you looked at yourself in the small mirror that was on the passenger’s seat. A mirror, he put little battery-powered led lights on, just for you.

You were sweating, or at least that’s what it felt like. It was cold yet suffocating at the same time and you weren’t sure how to handle the situation. Were you being stupid? Were you hopeful for nothing? You didn’t know. You didn’t, and that’s why you had to take this chance. You didn’t, and that was also destroying you because, sure you could lose your best friend, but maybe you could also miss the chance of something great just because you didn’t take the leap.

You put the lip oil back in your purse, putting up the visor and turning off the lights from inside the car. You turned around in time to see him coming back from the bathroom, running a hand through his hair. This was it. You quickly pressed record on your phone, and the door opened as you took a deep breath in for courage.

“There was an old dude definitely looking at my penis.” Steve said as he closed the door, groaning as he got comfortable in his seat. You giggled despite your nerves, scratching the back of your neck.

“There are three possibilities. He wanted to have it like yours, he wanted to have it in him or…” You dragged out, to which he looked at you with a frown.

“Or?”

“Maybe he was short-sighted.” His eyes widened, jaw dropping in disbelief as he stared at you.

“Are you implying I have a small dick?”

“I never said that.” He was about to say something, but his eyes caught your phone on the stand, and that it was recording. He tilted his head to the side, leaning forward a bit towards it with a squint.

“Why are you recording?” He asked, and you could feel your body shutting off. It felt as if every limb froze in place and that if you moved, you would detonate an atomic bomb or something. You weren’t responding, and Steve was fixing his hair on the camera, like he always did.

Three years. Three years of being best friends with Steve Harrington. Meeting through your coworker Eddie, who presented Steve to you as a potential bachelor, as he put it. But Steve never showed signs of anything more than friendship. You weren’t sure if you gave any indication you wanted more than that, either, but you couldn’t be sure. There were many times when you got flustered and stuttered when Steve complimented you or said something nice.

But now, the time to execute your plan had finally arrived and you were shitting your pants. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you shouldn’t even try. Maybe you should back away. But then he looked at you with a smile that just melted your insides, his freckles moving when his cheeks went up.

And you leaned in.

Or, well, clashed in. You went in quickly, your hands grabbing his face to keep him steady as you moved forward. Your lips harshly found his, yet it felt so good. They were soft, tasted like mint thanks to those Tic Tacs he always had on himself. You felt your ears ringing, loudly, almost like a fork scratching on a pan.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you leaned in, but you had to pull away and see the damage you had caused. He didn’t move. He didn’t kiss back. You didn’t know if he was shocked or if he figured it was a challenge people were doing on TikTok.

‘Kissing your best friend for the first time challenge.’

You slowly pulled away, retreating your hands and painfully opening your eyes again, already with a wince on your face. He was wide-eyed, his lips puckered up because of the sudden kiss, his hands up in the air, not really aiming anywhere. You felt your heart already plummeting to the ground as he didn’t make any moves, as he didn’t say anything. You had to pretend everything was okay. You had to. You couldn’t afford to lose Steve.

“So–” Your words were cut off when two strong hands cradled your face, pulling you into a deep kiss, a desperate kiss, a rough kiss filled with tension. His lips moved against yours, angrily, and you held onto his wrists, your faces over the middle of the console. Your entire body heated up as the gears in your head turned and turned, but his lips were making it impossible to focus. Lips you have been waiting to taste for so long.

You melted more and more into the kiss, because he was kissing you the way no one else ever did. No one kissed you this way and made you feel like a goddess. Like you were one of the most exquisite things they’ve ever tried in their life. You were ruined after this one. Completely.

He pulled away slowly, the smacking of lips echoing in the car, his lips still brushing against yours as he breathed heavily. Maybe it was your imagination, but you felt him trembling against you.

“Please tell me this is not some stupid trend or challenge.” Your eyes found his, and he looked desperate and hopeful. Those eyes that were extremely expressive and would not let him hide his feelings at all. How did you not notice before? He looked at you like this in the past. He looked at you with these eyes that just said, ‘God, I want you.’

“That was going to be my excuse if it didn’t work–”

“Oh, thank fuck!” And he kissed you again, and this time, you didn’t fight the smile. His right hand went to the back of your neck, while the left one had its fingertips running through your scalp. Your hands were gripping the front of his shirt desperately, pulling him in for more and more. Soon, his tongue met yours, and it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Everything you fantasized about.

The temperature in the car became heavy, the windows started to become foggy and you felt suffocated but in need of more. You wanted more. He wasn’t far behind, and you noticed by how his left hand moved to grip your waist tightly, trying to move you closer but the console was not letting you. He pulled away, his breath sharp on your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this day for so long. Move to the back, please, please, please–” You bit your lip to hold back a moan at his begging with those puppy dog eyes of his. You nodded and pecked his lips, the butterflies making a turmoil inside your stomach as you moved to climb to the back. You sat down on the backseat, and Steve was literally shoving himself to the back before you stopped him.

“Wait! I’m still recording!” You pointed at the phone, and Steve turned and did an ‘oh’ sound before grabbing it. He pointed the front camera his way, and he was flushed, red on the face, eyes glistening with happiness and lust.

“Hi, I’m Steve Harrington. It is 10:42 PM on May 12th of 2025, and today is one of the best days of my life because I finally kissed the girl I had a crush on for years. Bye.”

The video cuts off with you going into a fit of laughter. When you posted the video to TikTok, it went viral. The song Electric Love playing, the kiss happens when the drop starts, and then Steve’s commentary later on. Eddie, of course, commented.

‘Cute, but I vomited.’

🩷

a/n: this tiktok trend repopped in my tiktok and i just, ths is very steve coded

i wanna kiss steve so bad

#it came to me in a vision #late at night #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington stranger things

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originalwinnerfanfish · 11 months ago

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Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

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kentahoe · 10 months ago

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a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. friends to lovers sorta >_< .

cw: SEX?🤕

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the more stupid you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you couldn’t help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing over the barrier of his cushion to yours, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “Nervous. In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him.

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers grazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out in pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable not to have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from their trapped place at the back his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther down his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out in concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy and mindless— mindless: like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt, to the apples of your cheeks, and you knew you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting your head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, giving his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

There it was.

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

MASTERLIST!

second freaky fic i’ve ever written ;-; pls be gracious.

also lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

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gor3-hound · 11 months ago

Text

FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!

cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x

word count: 2.3k words

Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.

It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.

Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.

“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”

All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.

“Shit. Scott, I'm-”

“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”

“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”

“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”

Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”

He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”

Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.

“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.

“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.

“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”

“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”

“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”

You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.

“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”

“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.

He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.

A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.

His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.

Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.

He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.

Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”

“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.

You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.

“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.

You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.

A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.

“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.

Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.

“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.

Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.

“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”

That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.

“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #scott summers #scott summers x reader #scott summers x you #scogan #scott summers x logan howlett #xmen smut #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader

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anakinsdove · 1 year ago

Text

𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader

summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant... only to find out that that perfect pussy he's fucking belongs to his padawan.

c/w: gloryhole mentions, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance, blowjobs, good pounding (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)

discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰: 3,231

1 week ago

He does look lovely standing there, he’s talking to master mundi and master kenobi, broad shoulders and a serious expression on his face, but you know it’s all a facade, the minute you two are alone again he’ll go for a round of twister and maybe if you’re lucky pizza and movie night… he’s like no other Jedi, and you wouldn’t want it any other way, he’s unorthodox, impulsive and he can get under people’s skin easily.

He has a charm you haven’t seen anywhere else in the galaxy in your entire life, but you don’t know many things, he added a little bit of color in your life, he has thaught you things and to see life in a different way, he’s naturally good at everything he does… it’s insane.

“Whatcha thinking about?” You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t see him move next to you

“You” you say simply and he chuckles

“You’re still impressed by that move? I told you Y/N it all about the wrist” your eyes sparkle at the memory of him tearing droids apart in your previous mission, only a few hours ago

“No, not that-” “Be right back, I have to give the council a report of our mission” he ruffles your hair and leaves

Your eyes follow him until he dissapears in a crowd and you sigh, attachment is forbidden, but how can you not get attached to Anakin Skywalker? there are many rules you’d break for him, he’s your master and it’s wrong, but still… you can’t help but think of him late at night when you touch yourself, your fingers rub tight little circles on your clit as you try not to give in sleep and you can’t help but mutter “Anakin…”

You’d ruin everything for him, You’d give him everything you are, everything you have… and it kills yourself to think he might not want it.

But you’re wrong

Because Anakin Skywalker is utterly and obsessed with you, he wants nothing more than to bend you over and stuff you so good with his cock, that’s his ultimate fantasy, but he must not give into his instincts, Until…

Present day

His arms wrap around your waist in the darkness… you shouldn’t have done that, does he hate you now? Is he disappointed? Does he not love you anymore? That thought is unbearable.

“Calm down, I can feel the anxiety dripping from you” “I’m sorry….” “No, You’re not” And he’s right, why should you be sorry for? For him filling you up tonight? For giving him the best orgasm of his life… you, his padawan.

“I don’t want you to be sorry Y/n” you turn around and your pretty eyes look up at his silhouette, even his shadow is beautiful “Why not?”

His fingers squeeze your waist experimentally and you can’t help but sigh, his touch relives a deep ache in your heart and possibly between your legs.

“Was I the first man to fuck you tonight?” His voice is low and dangerous and you nod stupid “Because I saw you with your legs spread and in display for everyone, If I arrived 2 minutes later someone else would’ve ended up fucking you, didn’t you think of that when you chose to fuck up with my mind?”

You feel like crying and he sees your eyes water, you’ve humiliated yourself and he doesn’t want you, you have betrayed his trust…. “No master… p-please I’m sorry…” he wipes your tears away with his thumbs “I said I don’t want you to be sorry… I want to fuck you again and this time I want you to watch” your breathe heaves and he kisses your forehead reassuringly “I’m just surprised that’s all… I didn’t know you had it in you…” his fingers unbuttoned your shirt swiftly and he removes it, the sight of your cleave is doing more for him than it should “Can I fuck you? Can I do it again this time because I want to?” You nod desperately and he turns you around pushing you against your clothing drawer… he turns on your pretty table lamp and your eyes fixate on the picture over the drawer, it’s a picture from last summer, anakin and you smiling as he carries you… an innocent moment so far of what you’re doing right now.

He spreads your legs and pushes into your lower back signaling to arch your back deeper, you hear fabric breaking and you know your panties are gone forever “Holy shit…” you look over your shoulder to see his expression lust and hungriness written all over his face “My cum is still dripping out of you… it’s dripping down your thighs” you look down and confirm what he says, his cum has been dripping down your thighs since the walk back to the temple… he spits over his fingers and you scrunched your eyes shut when he wraps his arm over your front and rubs your clit deliciously “And so fucking wet” “Master!” You cry out louder than intended and you hear him smirk, his hips move with abandon against your ass, he grinds his painfully hard cock over you bare skin, you don’t understand why his pants are still on…

“All you needed to do was ask… I would’ve fucked you so long ago if I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you” his fingers move faster and your brain turns off “What-“ “Fucking brat- you dont even want to know how many times I had to stroke my cock to the most unsatisfactory orgasm, when all I had to do was going to your quarters late at night and take you, don’t you want your master to feel good?” He moans against your ear, his confession fueling your desire as it drags you closer to the edge, you move your hips back against him and he growls, he wants to be the one in control.

“Fuck me please- fuck me I can’t take it anymore” you practically mewl when his fingers dip inside your creamy cunt, come hitter motion hitting your spongy spot deliciously, this is worth every consequence this could have in the future. “You’re going to take what I fucking give you, nothing less and nothing more my padawan, understand?” He says with a condescending tone and gives a kiss to your ear

Anakin underestimated his own arousal because he feels like cumming in his pants right now, his breathing is heavy and his eyes close… then he removes his fingers from your cunt leaving you empty.

“No!” You cry out and he has to shut you up, he dips his fingers inside your mouth making you taste yourself “I know it tastes heavenly love, I fucking know it” your eyes roll back into your head at his dirty words, you’re soaked by now.

He pulls away and sits on the edge of your bed pulling you into his lap, his fingers squeezing your breasts over your bra when he says “What do you know about sucking cock sweetheart?” Is he serious right now? He took your virginity only a couple hours ago! it also makes you giggle because of his vulgar words.

“Nothing” you say honestly and he nods “Good” already pushing you to the ground and on your knees, his fingers unzip his pants desperately tugging them down with his boxers too, his cock slapped against his lower stomach… it looks painfully hard and begging for your touch.. you practically zone out looking at it and you can’t help but be amazed that it even fitted inside you, this is your first time seeing it, ironically.

“I’ve dreamt about fucking this little mouth” he says breathlessly and his thumb traces your lower lip as you look at him with a pouty look… “I’ll guide you through it okay?” “Please…” he smirks at this, he knows how whiny you can be, so having you under control brings him satisfaction as your master.

“Spit on it- good good… now w-wrap your hand around my- Fuck!” He hissed as you stroke him inexpertly but still feels so good, it’s probably because it’s you, everything feels good with you, it makes him curl his toes “I thought you didn’t know anything about this.. Ah fuck…” he closes his eyes as he gives into the pleasure for a brief moment and opening them again when you mutter an unexpected confession “I gave a handjob once…” “To whom?!” He says offended but has to close his eyes again as you milk him his own precum and your spit making the nicest lube, you look at his cock with some sorry of fascination at the slimy sounds its making “L-“ “Don’t fucking tell me” he hisses and pushes your head down “Now suck on it sweetheart nice and slow…” you give the head a little kiss and kitten lick the shaft slowly… nice and slow and you can clearly see his abs constricting due the pleasure “It’s only right im the one who teaches you this” his voice is husky and it holds so much lust and you roll your eyes at his cockiness “Your master had to be the one to teach you how to blow someone Y/n… but most important I’m teaching you how to please me” his words are doing something to you and you can’t help yourself but to grind against his boot that he previously angled for you to rub yourself against it… you moan around him and he needs more.

“Just a little bit more sweetness, you kitten licking my tip feels amazing but your master needs you to take a little bit more okay?” You nod clumsily and his fingers tangle in your locks pushing you a little lower so you can take him deeper, your inexperience shows when you choke around his cock… if you only knew how good that felt, his breath heaved as he mutters a strangled “Good girl- good girl, you’re making your master feel so good” his praise sends shivers down your spine and he carefully thrusts up, hips moving up slowly as you furrow your eyebrows in concentration but you choke again “Ah.. fuck, nice and slow love… nice and slow take your time, I’m don’t going to hurt you”

He moans and groans as your lips wrap around him nice and tight, you’re mouth is warm and it feels perfect, just like everything about you, his thrusts speed only a little bit “Do- do you remember that time where I let you skip training because you wanted to go out to the mall?” You nod… that’s the only thing you can do when you’re this cock drunk… your eyes close and you let him move your head up and down as he pleases “I was a good master, I did a favor for you yeah?” Your eyes water as his cock hits the back of your throat “Now I need you to be a good padawan and let me fuck your mouth, okay?” You whimper around him and he groans… nodding desperately he smirks “tap my leg if it gets too much and breathe through your nose” he holds your hair in a ponytail and starts thrusting nice and hard up your mouth, his tip bruising the back of your throat, your whimpers and moans are muffled by his cock as it makes you choke, you look up at him and his eyes are closed mouth agape as he moans… your own desires can’t be ignored as you keep grinding against his boot… the best way to describe this feeling is euphoria, you can’t even hear your own thoughts because they’re overpowered by the pleasure sounds your master is making and the disgusting sounds your mouth is making… your bringing him close to ecstasy.

“Shit!” He cries out and you realize breathing is no longer important in this situation, you want to please him and that the only thing that matters, he holds your head down as your nose rubs against his pubes, your own eyes rolling back “Yes yes yes yes yes” anakin is too far gone in the pleasure, his eyes roll back as a bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he growls and pushes his boot harder onto you clit “I’m gonna- Fuck im sorry I can’t help it!” You want to protest but it’s too late, his hot cum is already filling your throat. “That’s a g-good g-good… f-fucking girl- ah! My padawan” he spasms and finally lets go of your head… his cock pulsates inside your mouth and your release him and you see him shake… his breathing is heavy and he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks… he smiles, like a genuine smile that shows love and appreciation

“Thank you Y/n… oh shit that was amazing” you beam at his praise as usual, he really knows how to push your buttons.

“Master I want to cum” you pout at him, he has been teasing you but not actually giving you what you need and crave “What have I taught you about patience?” “That is overrated” he curses himself and takes you into his arms laying you down on the bed. “Fine… I’m going to fuck you” he rolls his eyes as if it was annoyed to do such task and you tickle his ribs at his teasing… he laughs and loses strength as he falls on top of you… you look up at him, you’ve never been this close before, his eyes are piercing into your soul… Anakin closes the gap and for the first time he kisses you… he moans into the kiss, it feels so right and your lips don’t move for half a second… he holds your cheek delicately and you kiss him back with as much love and desire as him.

“I can’t believe it took me so long to do that” he whispers and you give him your brightest smile “alright ass up” you giggle and he bops your nose and slides a pillow under your hips for a better angle “How do you want it love? Nice and slow or… master I can’t walk I might need to skip training today?” He mocks your voice and you give him an unamused look, if he can tease you you can also tease him.

Your legs wrap around his waist and you pull him closer “alright I get it… spread your legs for me” you do as he says and he taps his cock over your clit repeatedly, you can’t help but throw your head back, it’s so sensitive by all his previous teasing it makes you whine “I know you want it sweetheart, its just, you look so good when you’re needy” “if I knew my master was this cruel if would’ve gone to master kenobi instead” his eyes widen and his brows furrows “No” you expected him to laugh but it angers him “You’re mine, no one else’s” he positions your legs over his shoulders and slides in… your soaked cunt is pulling him in and your tightness pushes him out.. he chuckles when you shudder under him “So- fucking big” your eyes furrow prettily and your eyes roll back as he fills you up for the second time tonight “Yeah? You’re so fucking tight” his hips moves against you nice and slow, you feel every bit of him, your gummy walls massage his tip, he moans and hides his face on the crook of your neck…

Your gasps and moans are music to his ears, the prettiest a sound in the galaxy, unfortunately his noises are muffled by your skin but you want to hear him cry out… maybe another time… he groans and nips at your skin sucking and marking you “You feel so good inside me master… you fill me up so good, no one could make me feel like you do” his eyes shut tight as your words struck a nerve, you feel his hips falter as he loses his rhythm… you giggle but soon his thrusts become forceful as he hits your g spot with precision

“Shit!” “language” he teases and chuckles against your skin, you pull his locks painfully tight as he hisses “You like it? You like how deep I’m inside you? This time I’m able to look at your pretty face” he kisses you once again, your legs hold him tightly not giving him much space to move and fuck you harder, it’s your fault he has to be harsher and manhandle you

Your velvety walls constrict around his cock and he pulsates and pulsates, he feels his balls tighten… his cock kisses you cervix again and you cry out as you attempt to push him away “I know it hurts… don’t worry I’m going to take care of you” your arms tangle over his neck as your nails dig into his back and scratch, leaving little moon shaped marks all over his skin, he changes the angle and pounds you deeper, you didn’t know it was possible… this time his pubes rub deliciously over your clit “you’re not fooling anyone love, you like it rough, you like it nasty and even dangerous, showing yourself to everyone in a nasty gloryhole in coruscant, why would you put yourself in that situation baby? Huh? You liked the smell of sex and everyone having sex around you? Is that it? You’re as much of a pervert as I am, because if you’d come to me sooner I would’ve fucked you in your comfy bed like the pillow princess you are”

“Master!” You near your release and he’s been holding his for about 5 minutes now, he trembles over you but he can’t stop, he needs to please you “You’re gonna cum sweetheart? I need you to cum, you been milking your master’s cock the entire night it’s only right I make you cum too”

Your cries fill the room and your eyes roll back, it’s a sight for sore eyes “Thank your master Y/n, thank your master for fucking this creamy pussy”

“Thankyouthankyou-“ you moan incoherently “I’m going to fill you up sweetheart- what a good little p-padawan” your climax hits the both of you like a bus… making you grind against each other tiredly as your moans die down eventually, only heavy breathing is heard…

When you both grow quiet and only the sounds of an average late night at coruscant fill the atmosphere you wrap your arms around him, you’ve never seen anakin this tired before, he always has enough energy for a battle but seems like pussy is his weakness, you clench around him involuntarily and he whimpers

“Thank your Y/n this was… fuck it was”

“Me? Thank you for being a pervert” you beam and kiss his forehead “it was truly amazing… thank you master” he chuckles

“Me? A pervert? You’re a nympho princess, after everything I’ve taught you in all these years the only thing it stuck you was my cock” you roll your eyes at his comment

“Now you know how Master Kenobi feels” but then you think a little bit more about your comparison and you cringe anakin laughs against your skin

“You’re lucky you’re beautiful”

You smile brightly at him “youre pretty”

“Only pretty? C’mon sweetheart I want to be beautiful”

“Fine.. you’re beautiful” he gives your neck a little kiss

“Can you sleep here tonight?” You nod “Great because you leaving means I’d have to pull out”

“Don’t mention it, you’re my best friend!” Anakin gives you an angry look even though he knows he’s joking, he wants to be more than that, and actually he already is… And with a kiss he shuts you up…

dividers - @i92-93

(Hello! I want to credit @anakinsbbgirl for inspiring this stories, she’s insane and I love her)

#anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #anakin smut #sw anakin #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader

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spr1ngpvrinbwunnie · 5 months ago

Note

In what ways can we annoy 👁️ 📺 the doctor once he's comfortable having us around?

Since he's always watching us and his minions loves us more than him, I think it's only fair that he receives our rebellious bratty affections too

For science of course ✨

Oh, absolutely. If The Doctor is going to haunt every screen, command an army of little gremlins, and act like a smug, untouchable mastermind, then it’s only fair that we annoy the hell out of him in return. After all, what’s the point of being his “favorite” if we don’t make him suffer a little?

So, for science, here are some of the best ways to mess with The Doctor once he’s comfortable having you around:

1. Name His Minions Stupid Things

The Critters? You nickname them like they're Pokémon.

“This one’s Greg. That one? Mr. Chompers. Oh, and this little guy? He's my emotional support nightmare.”

The robotic bodies? You give them absurd names based on their appearance.

“Hey, Steve! Get over here!”

The Doctor: “They are NOT named—”

“Shhh, Steve is speaking.”

Bonus: If you call one of his bodies “Blinky” because of the eye on the screen, he will stop talking to you for an hour out of pure spite.

2. Purposely Misquote Him

Any time he says something intimidating, twist his words into something embarrassing.

The Doctor: “You cannot escape my sight.”

You: “Aww, so you admit you’re obsessed with me?”

The Doctor: “THAT IS NOT—”

Bonus: Do it in front of his minions so they start believing it.

3. Stare Directly Into the Nearest Camera and Make Awkward Eye Contact

Since he’s always watching, just… stare.

Don’t blink.

The Doctor: “What are you doing?”

You: “Just making sure you’re still there, buddy.”

Extra points if you slowly inch closer to the camera like a horror movie character.

Even MORE points if you whisper:

“Can you feel me staring into your soul?”

“Boo.”

"Guess what? I unplugged that camera. You're talking to NOTHING right now."

4. Draw Silly Faces on His Screens

If there’s a dusty screen, draw a dumb face on it.

If he possesses a monitor, immediately draw a mustache on it.

The Doctor: “Remove that atrocity immediately.”

You: “Sorry, can’t hear you over how handsome you look with this curly mustache.”

5. Pretend You Can't Hear Him When He's Talking Through a Bad Speaker

If his voice glitches out or sounds weird over an old speaker, pretend you can’t understand.

The Doctor: “—ou under—tand me?”

You: “What? I think you said something about spaghetti?”

The Doctor: “No, I sa—”

You: “Did you just ask me to unplug you? Got it.”

The Doctor: “CEASE.”

6. Replace His Intimidating Dialogue With Cutesy Nicknames

The Doctor: “You are mine.”

You: “Okay, possessive much, Snugglebug?”

The Doctor: “…WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?”

You: “I said, ‘Okay, Professor Cuddles, chill.’”

7. Hug His Minions Right in Front of Him

The Nightmare Critters already love you. Show them extra affection just to rub it in.

Hug one of the robotic bodies and go, “Wow, you’re so much nicer than your creator.”

The Doctor: “…Excuse me?”

You: “Shhh. Steve is my best friend now.”

Bonus: If you pet Yarnaby like a cat, it will immediately vibrate aggressively in approval.

8. Keep Saying “What’s the Magic Word?”

Any time he orders you to do something, act like a strict kindergarten teacher.

The Doctor: “Move to the next room.”

You: “What’s the magic word?”

The Doctor: “…Obey.”

You: “Nope, try again.”

Extra chaos: Make him say “please” in the most reluctant, soul-crushing tone possible.

9. Randomly Poke the Nearest Camera

Whenever you pass a camera, just boop it.

The Doctor: “…Stop that.”

Boop.

The Doctor: “I said STOP.”

Boop.

(He eventually shuts the camera off just to make you stop.)

10. Throw Something at One of His Bodies and Blame it on the Minions

You: [chucks a random item at his robot body]

The Doctor: “What was that?”

You: “Uh… Yarnaby did it.”

The Doctor: “That is the least believable lie I have ever heard.”

Yarnaby: [Vibrates aggressively, confirming guilt.]

11. Walk Into a Room and Say “I Know What You Did” Without Any Context

Doesn’t matter what he’s actually doing. Just say it.

The Doctor: “…”

You: “Yeah. I saw that.”

The Doctor: “…Elaborate.”

You: “You know what you did.”

Bonus: Do this while looking directly at a camera, then leave the room without another word.

12. Pretend You Found His “Secret Diary”

You: “So, I found your diary.”

The Doctor: “I do not KEEP a diary.”

You: “Really? Then who wrote ‘Dear Diary, today my minions ignored me in favor of my human and I felt deeply betrayed’?”

The Doctor: “…You INSOLENT—”

13. Leave Sticky Notes on His Screens with Passive-Aggressive Messages

“Your eye looks extra evil today. Good job!”

“Blink once if you have emotions.”

“Reminder: Stop being ominous for five minutes challenge (failed).”

“If you kill me, who will annoy you?”

14. Mess With His Voice Recordings

If he ever leaves an audio log, alter it.

Edit his voice so he sounds adorably squeaky.

The Doctor: “WHO DID THIS?!”

You: “Oh wow, your voice sounds SO CUTE. You should keep it.”

15. Summon Him Like a Ghost

Stand in a dark hallway.

Look into a broken screen.

Say “Doctor, Doctor, Doctor” like it’s Bloody Mary.

The nearest screen flickers to life.

The Doctor: “WHAT are you DOING.”

You: “Summoning you.”

The Doctor: “…I hate you.”

#harley sawyer #harley sawyer x reader #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor #dr harley sawyer #╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢ 👁📺💉🩸#‹꒰ 🇶🇺🇾🇪🇳'🇸 🇼🇷🇮🇹🇮🇳🇬.꒱𖥔 ࣪~

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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago

Note

sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!

Omggg I love this!!!! Thank you for sending me this 💗

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female)

Fluff. Hurt & Comfort. Friends to lovers. 2k words. Unrequited love/pining in the beginning. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end (Yuuji gets his happy end with Megumi). Mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna can only shake his head at the irony. He is in love. He is fucking in love for the first time in his life, and of course, it has to be someone he cannot have! Out of everyone at this stupid college, it has to be the girl who likes his brother!

If it were any other guy, Sukuna wouldn't give a fuck and just flirt like hell with the girl he wants and give his best to steal her away from that other guy. But the problem is that Itadori Sukuna might be an asshole, but he isn't the type of asshole that would steal his brother's girl.

So Sukuna swallows down his heartbreak and forces himself to hold back, refusing to stand in the way of his baby brother's happiness. Sukuna might only be three minutes older, but he is still the big bro, still the one who sees it as his responsibility to look after his "little" brother. And Yuuji deserves it. He deserves a girl like you. He deserves your love. Sukuna will stay strong. He can do it.

But what Sukuna didn't take into account is how completely oblivious his brother is to your feelings.

You follow Yuuji around like a lost puppy, giving him hearteyes, practically swooning anytime he smiles his sunshine smile, hanging on his lips when he talks about his movie-directing classes and his new favorite TV show. But Yuuji doesn't seem to notice. And it makes Sukuna so mad! It drives him crazy! He almost spits his drink out when his brother gives you a high five and calls you "bro".

Sukuna feels sick to his stomach when he watches you wring your hands and shyly ask Yuuji if he maybe wants to go to the cinema with you to see the newest Human Earthworm movie. That super trashy horror series that Yuuji is always gushing about, which Sukuna is 99% sure you don't really like but only want to endure for the boy you have a big crush on.

But Sukuna's oblivious idiot of a brother just laughs and nods, happy that someone shares his taste, and totally misses the point,

"Yes, that's perfect! Let's also ask Megumi and Nobara to join us! Let's all go together! It will be so much fun!"

Sukuna thinks he can not only feel his own heart ache but also yours as he sees your face fall even while you force yourself to nod bravely and smile a sad smile at Yuuji.

It takes everything in Sukuna not to say something. But his restraint only lasts until he is alone with his brother. The moment the others have left, he shoves Yuuji into the wall, grabs his collar, and growls at him,

"You are so fucking dumb, brat! I would give anything to be in your shoes, but you don't even see that she wants you!"

And Yuuji blinks at him, all big eyes and completely confused,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sukuna lets go of Yuuji, slumping against the wall next to him, sighing and explaining the situation to him. How Sukuna likes you, and how you like Yuuji, and how everything is such a mess, and how much he hates it, especially when his little brother is too blind to see what he could have!

"Now you know, brat. Go, get her. Just don't rub it in my face, ok? I'll stay away as much as possible."

Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, about to run away and hide in some dark corner or maybe find someone to fuck and distract him from all this shit. But to his utter surprise, Yuuji's hand darts out and grabs Sukuna's sleeve.

"Wait, Kuna! I don't even have those kinds of feelings for her! There is... um... well, there is actually someone else I like."

He stands there, scratching his neck, looking sheepishly at Sukuna and blushing a bit as Sukuna stares at him with question marks in his eyes.

"Who??"

"Um, he has black hair and likes dogs and... ah shit."

And Sukuna can't help it. He bursts out laughing, doubling over because this is just so fucking dumb and messy and getting more complicated every second, and he probably should have known!

"Damn, brat, that really sounds like you! Falling for your best friend!"

In the end, Sukuna plays matchmaker for Yuuji and Megumi. It's easy, considering the way Fushiguro has been looking at Yuuji since the first day he met him. And yeah, Sukuna is not only doing it because he loves his baby brother but also because of selfish reasons. Because it means you will have to let go of your crush on Yuuji. Not that Sukuna thinks you will turn to him, but at least he won't have to watch you date his brother and pretend he doesn't care!

It feels like someone is stabbing Sukuna's heart when he watches your face twist in pain at the next party when you see Yuuji walking into the room with Megumi's hand in his.

But it will be fine! After all, Sukuna is here to catch you and mend your broken heart again. As a friend, at least.

He quickly follows you when you leave the room and run towards the backyard. You sit down on the slightly damp grass, and Sukuna joins you, sitting silently next to you while tears run down your cheeks. Sukuna offers you his half-smoked cigarette, and when your eyes meet, he can't help but think that surely you must see the pain in his eyes, too.

He quickly takes a sip from the bottle he is holding to hide the emotions threatening to swallow him while silently cursing himself for following you out here. He misjudged how fucking hard it is to look at you when you are crying. If only Sukuna could just close the distance between you and claim you as his, just kiss all your pain and his pain away.

But of course, he knows it would be too soon. For once in his life, Sukuna doesn't just want to be a one-night stand or a rebound or a revenge fuck or whatever. For once in his life, he wants more. He wants everything.

And so Sukuna is patient. Just offers you his silent company, his cigarette, his bottle of vodka, and his leather jacket when it gets chilly, and you start to shiver. He offers you his friendship, his protection, and the kind of comfort he can give without fucking you. He drives you home, makes sure you have something to eat and get some sleep.

He bangs on your door three days later when you still haven't come back to campus, calling you a brat and an idiot because it's the only way he knows how to show his worry. But he hopes he's making it better by shoving a vanilla latte and a bag with muffins from your favorite coffee shop into your hands.

Your eyes look puffy from crying, and you seem confused about what he is doing here, but you take the food and coffee from him. And Sukuna smirks at you and refuses to leave when you tell him you look like hell and don't want him to see you like that.

"I don't care, princess. Eat those damn muffins and drink your latte before it gets cold. I didn't stand in line for half an hour for you to just ignore my treats. And by the way, you always look pretty to me."

He stays until you had breakfast and took a shower, coming back to the living area with a soft,

"Thank you, Sukuna. It was nice of you to bring me muffins and coffee."

Sukuna finally leaves, lifting one tattooed hand to casually wave at you as if his heart isn't about to burst because he wants to pull you against his chest and hold you and tell you he can make you happy again.

He skips some of his classes and instead goes to the gym, working out like a madman and beating up a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think about how sad you looked and how fucking much he wants to kiss it better.

He comes back the next day to pick you up and take you to the coffee shop with him, making sure you leave the house and join the living again! It cannot be that you are crying your eyes out in your room all day!

"Stop complaining and get your bratty ass off the couch! It will be good for you to get some fresh air and shit. I am warning you if you don't put on shoes in the next 30 seconds, I will make you walk to the coffee shop in socks!"

Oh yes, Sukuna is good at this. Acting grumpy and playing the asshole while taking care of you and making sure you are ok. And somehow, you are the only one, apart from his brother, who can see right through him because you roll your eyes and laugh softly and tell him that he is the nicest asshole you have ever met.

The two of you fall into a routine where Sukuna picks you up every morning and has breakfast with you before he walks you to your first class. You constantly grow closer, and Sukuna feels his mask slipping more often around you. His typical arrogant smirk softens into a genuine smile. His snide comments turn into compliments. He isn't sure if he is doing it by accident or intentionally. Maybe he is only reacting to the way you act around him.

Because your gaze doesn't follow his brother anymore. Your face doesn't fall when you see Yuuji with Megumi. Your smile doesn't falter when you spot pink hair and realize it's the bad boy twin with the tattoos and not the good boy twin with the sunshine smile. Sukuna even feels like your smile is growing brighter when you look at him.

Could it be?

And he notices more things. Notices how you always sit so close to him now when he is at your dorm and you play video games against each other. How you always laugh at his jokes, no matter how sarcastic they are. Or how you look at him sometimes when you think he doesn't realize it. How your eyes get that dreamy little sparkle when Sukuna is sleepy, and his voice gets low and a bit raspy. How you get goosebumps on your arms when Sukuna puts his hands on your hips to steer you through a crowded room.

A few weeks later, Sukuna finds himself back at the same spot where all those weeks ago, it all began. Sitting next to you in the grass in the small backyard of your friend's dorm, where you cried when Yuuji broke your heart.

But tonight, you aren't crying. Tonight, you are smiling and throwing your head back, laughing at some dry joke Sukuna makes, looking so carefree and happy. Your shoulder is brushing against Sukuna's biceps, and your hand lands on his thigh, giving it a playful smack and staying just a little too long. And Sukuna can't help but say in that low voice, you seem to like so much,

"You are so beautiful."

For a split second, he feels his chest tense up, scared that he fucked everything up. Scared that he got it wrong and you still want his brother. Or maybe some other guy. Scared that you only see Sukuna as a good friend. Or that you only see him the way the whole campus sees him: as that sexy, asshole guy who is only good for casual sex and nothing more.

But then you turn your head to look at him, and Sukuna sees that soft expression in your eyes, the one he used to see on your face when you looked at his brother. But now it is for him, for Sukuna. And he simply knows without you having to spell it out. He knows that things have truly changed.

So, Sukuna decides to do what he wanted to do for a long time.

"I am sorry that you cried the last time we were in this backyard. But I am not sorry for why it happened. My brother is an idiot for not wanting you like that. But I am glad he is an idiot because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do this..."

And Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, cupping it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed while looking deeply into your eyes, checking one last time if he really got it right. You look at him with wide eyes, but you smile and nod softly as your gaze travels down to his lips.

And Sukuna sighs and presses his lips gently against yours, kissing you like he never kissed someone before, slow and gentle, as if he is scared you will break or slip through his fingers. A kiss with his eyes closed and his chest filling with a warmth he didn't know until now. A kiss into which Sukuna pours all the secret longing he felt for you for months, all the feelings he tried to hold back for his brother's sake and then for the sake of not fucking things up.

But finally, he doesn't have to hold back anymore. Because you chose him. You chose Sukuna. You are sitting here with him, with your hand in his hair and your lips moving slowly against his, a happy sigh and a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips.

The two of you only stop kissing when Sukuna's head is already spinning from the lack of oxygen. He pulls away only enough to grin at you and stroke your cheek with his thumb. And you smile back at him and whisper,

"I am glad, too, that Yuuji turned me down. Because otherwise I wouldn't have found out that it's his brother who is my perfect match. I wouldn't have found out that you, Itadori Sukuna, are the one I like the most out of everyone."

AAAHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭 Thank you so much for sending me this ask. I see Sukuna + unrequited love/pining and I lose my mind!! It's my weakness and makes me so so soft for him (even more than usual).

I hope you liked this little hurt/comfort story!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #ryomen sukuna

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