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jupiterpilgrim · 2 months ago

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The Pleasure Equation: When the Nerd Solves Everything, Including You

Nayeon x Male Reader

word count: 8.2k

a/n: Yo, my first published smut. I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me what you think.

—

You're lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, in the 21st century, universities still think pairing people for projects is a good idea. Plus, you're terrible at this subject. Advanced Calculus? They might as well call it "How to Ruin My Weekend." The only saving grace is that your partner, Nayeon, the biggest nerd in class, will handle most of it. For you, it seems like a golden ticket: she does the work, and you pretend you helped. It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

The doorbell rings. Of course, it’s her. You were expecting it—you could almost time Nayeon's nerdy punctuality. And, as always, she looks like the picture-perfect good girl—cardigan, glasses, skirt, that innocent, serious air of someone more interested in spreadsheets than in people. The kind of girl most guys wouldn't look at twice. But you, well, you had to look. It was obligatory since she was going to carry your weight in this project.

You open the door, and there she is, laptop under her arm, shy smile and everything you imagined. The nerd who's here to save your semester.

What you didn’t know—and God knew you were about to find out—is that Nayeon had planned a different type of study for this project.

She walks in with that confident stride that only people who are either extremely smart or who know the subject is your lifeline have. And honestly, you’re not ready for the energy she brings.

“Hi,” she says, glancing around your house, skipping any small talk.

“Hey, Nayeon. Nice to have you here.” You try to sound more enthusiastic than you really are. “Want anything? Water, juice, tea?” you offer, hoping to buy yourself a few more minutes of procrastination before facing the project.

“No, thanks.” She looks at you over her glasses, almost as if she’s analyzing your soul. “I think we should just get started. The sooner we finish, the better.”

“Yeah, better,” you think. And with that, off you go to your bedroom. Yes, the bedroom, because it’s the only place in the house that seems even remotely presentable. There are piles of books (that you haven’t read, just skimmed for the basics), notebooks with ridiculously short notes you took, some clothes scattered here and there... oh, and your unmade but perfectly comfortable bed, where you sit on the edge. It was a clinically tidy room compared to the living room or the kitchen.

Nayeon doesn't seem to care about anything. She sits at the desk chair and opens her laptop.

The project, of course, is about "Modeling Algebraic Functions for the Optimization of Industrial Processes." Or something equally mind-numbing that only Nayeon seems to understand. You’re more lost than someone trying to solve a Rubik's cube in the dark. And it’s all because of your dad, who, in his non-threatening way, persuaded you to follow the family career path. Damn Engineering (and tradition).

Nayeon, as always, is already deep into the work, fingers flying over the keyboard while her glasses slip to the tip of her nose, balancing dangerously between focused nerd and, well... ¿sexy? nerd?

Not that you’d admit that.

She glances at you, and for a second, you almost feel like she expects you to say something useful. Which, of course, would be a grave miscalculation. Literally.

“So, I thought you could start with the part about differential equations,” she says, making the suggestion with the ease of someone asking you to hold a cup, when what she’s really offering is a grand piano. “And then the graphs…”

You pretend to be genuinely interested. Which means nodding in a way that could be mistaken for understanding if someone looked quickly, but in reality, you're utterly lost.

“Oh, sure, differential equations…” you repeat, as if the words held any special meaning. They don’t.

Nayeon sighs and goes back to typing, clearly aware of the level of uselessness you're operating at. She’s probably already mentally dividing the entire project, calculating how many extra hours she'll need to cover for the fact that you're, essentially, dead weight.

“Maybe you could review the introduction,” she suggests, polite but with the patience of someone talking to a child who still doesn’t know the difference between shapes.

You scratch your head, pretending to read the introduction she’s already written. One, two lines. Everything looks very... professional. You attempt to seem helpful:

“You know, I think you’re... um... doing great with this. Maybe... maybe I should focus more on the creative part of the project, like... the presentation design?” you suggest, smiling, as if making a PowerPoint full of silly animations was an undervalued talent in academia.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Design?” Nayeon asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “In an Advanced Calculus project? You want to fill the presentation with glitter and stars, is that it?”

“Hey, glitter makes everything better,” you reply, defensive, but unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe throw in some memes to lighten the mood… People love memes... I guess.”

“I’m not sure if you're joking or if you've completely given up on life,” Nayeon mutters, with a short, dry laugh, returning to the keyboard.

You shift on the bed, trying to find a position that seems less like a desperate student and more like someone slightly focused on the project. The silence is broken only by the sound of her typing and your occasional murmur of fake approval: “Hmm, sure, that makes sense…”

It doesn’t.

Then, out of nowhere, Nayeon looks at you again, but this time with a different kind of curiosity. There’s something in her eyes, something that goes beyond pure calculation—and we’re not talking about the equations.

“You live alone, right?” The question comes casually, almost innocently. Almost.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” you answer, a bit confused by the sudden shift. “Why?”

“Just... curious,” she replies, but the smile she gives is far from innocent. “It must be nice living alone. I bet you can do whatever you want, right? No one around to hear...”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Like... I can have pizza for breakfast without being judged. And play video games late. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

Nayeon laughs, but in a way that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, like she knows something you don’t.

“And... what do you mean by ‘do whatever you want’?” you ask, hesitant but unable to resist the curiosity.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, looking away for a second. “Just thinking... it must be interesting. Having that kind of freedom.”

She pauses and looks directly at you again, her fingers sliding slowly across the keyboard, as if the project was now the last thing on her mind.

“Tell me something... what’s your type?” The question lands like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sending ripples of confusion through you.

You almost choke.

“My... type?” you repeat, as if it’s a math problem with too many variables.

“Yeah, like... what do you find attractive in someone?” Nayeon continues, her voice far too casual for the situation. She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours.

“Well, I dunno.” You shift uncomfortably. “I guess... someone fun, you know? Someone who can make me laugh.”

“Hmm. And me?” Nayeon tilts her head, her glasses now low enough to reveal her sharp eyes behind them. “Do I make you laugh?”

You freeze, because the right answer to this feels like a trap.

Sure, Nayeon’s made you laugh plenty of times, especially when she freaks out over losing half a point on a test. But that doesn’t seem like the kind of "laugh" she’s asking about.

“Uh, yeah, of course!” you respond, quickly. “I mean, in a good way. Not that I’m laughing *at* you, but... you know what I mean, right?”

She smiles, and you’re not sure if she’s satisfied with your answer or just amused by your nervousness.

“You know,” Nayeon continues, “I think I prefer guys who... know what they want. Guys with attitude.”

You nod, trying to process what’s happening.

“Oh, sure. Attitude is always good, right?” you reply, having no idea where this conversation is heading.

She looks at you in a way that feels almost predatory, and you realize that, somehow, whatever control you thought you had over this situation (even a little) now belongs entirely to her.

“Do you have it?” she asks. “Attitude?”

At that moment, you realize two things: first, Nayeon isn’t interested in solving differential equations today. And second, you probably should’ve agreed to do the graphs.

You feel the pressure of the question like a multiple-choice exam where all the answers seem wrong.

"Now?" you stammer, as if time itself is about to collapse. "Uh… I don’t know, I think we’re in the middle of a project, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt…"

"Interrupt?" She lets out a short laugh. "I think work went out the window a long time ago, don’t you?"

With that, she stands up, closing the laptop, and starts walking slowly around the room, as if inspecting the space, or maybe just teasing you on purpose. Every step she takes seems more choreographed than anything you’ve ever seen on stage.

Suddenly, she stops, untying her hair and shaking it loose.

"You know," she continues, turning her gaze back to you, "I thought of a way to make things more interesting."

Your brain, of course, is already in full panic mode, but your mouth, as always, insists on trying to sound casual.

"Really? Interesting how?" you ask, hoping the answer isn’t something like "Russian roulette."

She crosses her arms. You realize that, at some point, you completely lost any chance of controlling your own fate.

"A game," Nayeon says, with a sly smile. "Let’s play a game. What do you say?"

"What kind of game?" you ask, already regretting letting curiosity win over survival instinct.

"Oh, don’t worry, nothing too crazy," she replies, shrugging as if the suggestion were perfectly innocent. "Something fun, to relax, since the project clearly isn’t going anywhere today."

She steps closer to you, with that conspiratorial air of someone about to suggest something really dangerous.

"What do you think?" she whispers, lowering her voice. "You up for playing with me?"

"Err... depends on the game, right?" you reply, trying to sound laid-back.

Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, and the smile on her lips is pure provocation.

"Let’s see… How about something simple?" she suggests, her eyes never leaving yours. "Questions and answers. To test what you've been learning in the course."

"Just that?" you ask, half skeptical, half curious.

She speaks with a lightness that contrasts the intensity of her proposal:

"Of course not. For every question you get right, I’ll take off a piece of clothing."

You blink. Blink again. And then a third time, just to make sure you heard correctly.

"What?" you blurt out, a laugh escaping before you can control it. "You’re kidding, right?"

Nayeon crosses her arms, that crafty smile still on her face. Apparently, she’s not kidding.

"I’m dead serious. And if you manage to make me take off everything, I’ll give you a prize."

"A prize?" You try to keep your composure, but all you can think about is that maybe studying Calculus isn’t so bad after all. "What kind of prize?"

Nayeon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifts her skirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties — white, of course, because even in this, she has to be precise and teasing.

You swallow hard, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rises by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with global warming.

"Hm... okay, let’s go," you respond, trying to sound casual, but in reality, your mind is a complete mess. Who knew the class nerd had this side to her?

"Great." Nayeon giggles before adjusting her glasses and kicking off her shoes to, let’s say, get more comfortable. "First question: What’s the basic principle of algebraic function modeling applied to industrial process optimization?"

You stare at her. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy game. Your brain tries, with herculean effort, to remember what the hell that means.

"Hm… I think… it’s using equations to simplify a complex process?" you guess.

She smiles.

"Well, close enough. You got the general concept," she says.

She starts with the most innocent pieces, of course. The cardigan that you barely noticed she was wearing, because let’s be honest, your focus was more on the project — or on how not to do it... Well, at least that’s what you thought. Now, the focus has definitely changed. Every button that opens feels like a small personal victory. And before you know it, the cardigan is on the floor. She looks at you with a sly smile.

"Shall we continue?"

"Damn right, I’m enjoying this!"

"How do you define an improper integral?"

You blink. Of course, she’d come up with one of those questions you never knew the answer to.

"An… improbable integral?"

She laughs, a clear, almost musical sound that fills the room. If Nayeon were the type of person who enjoyed academically torturing others, she was definitely on the right track.

"I’ll give you a hint," she leans forward, just enough for you to see part of the top underneath her perfectly white blouse. "It has something to do with limits."

Limits. Of course. Yours are being tested in a different way. You vaguely remember the professor mentioning something about this, between naps.

"Oh, right! It’s when the interval goes to infinity, right?" you venture, your heart already beating faster.

"Correct!" She claps her hands, feigning innocent excitement that definitely doesn’t match the way her hands move toward the buttons of her blouse. One button, two, three... and soon, Nayeon’s blouse is off, revealing a black camisole, tight enough to show that she had planned all of this meticulously.

You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Now, you’re invested in the game.

"Next question: What are the three most common methods to solve a system of linear equations?"

Linear equations? Of course, you slept through that class. But then… things start to click.

"Elimination, substitution, and… matrices."

"You’re getting the hang of it, huh?" she says, her voice almost a purr.

Without hesitation, she leans back a little and, with a slow, sensual gesture, removes the black camisole, now revealing a delicate white bra, almost the same shade as her skin.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but somehow, you’re starting to enjoy the game, and oddly enough, math too. Well, this is definitely a more rewarding way to learn something you don’t like.

"Now an easier one," she teases, as if giving you a break. "How do you calculate the area under a curve?"

You swallow hard, not because of the question, but because Nayeon is crossing her arms in a way that’s far from casual, emphasizing even more what’s... well, on display.

"Definite integrals," you answer quickly, perhaps with more enthusiasm than necessary.

She gives a small round of applause, but this time doesn’t make any immediate move to take off anything else.

"Very good! But... are you sure you want to continue?" she asks, tilting her head, as her fingers rest on the zipper of her skirt.

You’re not sure if you want to continue the game or skip straight to the “prize,” but whatever it is, you need this girl naked. But for that you need to concentrate, but how would you do it? It's certainly not easy. Not when she runs her fingers, provocatively slow, to the zipper of her skirt.

“Alright, just one more, then,” she says, with a false lightness that only adds to the tension in the air, “a simpler one, I promise. If you get it right, I’ll take off one more piece. If you get it wrong… the game’s over.”

Your mind is racing, a mix of nerves and pure curiosity. After all, how did you end up here, being quizzed by Nayeon, The Nerd™? And now, The Nerd™ was about to strip.

Weird world.

“Okay… ask the question,” you say, trying to seem calm. Just trying.

Nayeon raises an eyebrow, still toying with the zipper of her skirt, but not pulling it down at all, just… waiting. “What’s Stokes' theorem?” she asks.

You almost laugh. Not really, more like a nervous chuckle that escapes before you realize… crap, you actually don’t remember.

“Erm…” you begin, desperately searching for some vague memory of a class you definitely slept through.

Nayeon doesn’t miss the look of panic on your face.

“Ah, struggling?” she asks, her voice sweetly sadistic. “How about a hint?” She leans in, the skirt still untouched, but in a deliberate move, she adjusts her bra, already more revealing than it should be, giving you a clear view of her generous cleavage.

You clear your throat, dying a little inside but trying to maintain your composure.

“Uh, it has to do with surface integrals, right? Something about flows… and vectors…”

“Exactly! Flows and vectors,” she repeats, satisfied. And then, in an almost innocent gesture, as if she were merely taking off an uncomfortable shoe after a long day, she pulls the zipper of the skirt, which slides down her legs, hitting the floor like it didn’t even matter, revealing her bare legs and white panties. Her thighs are even more perfect than you imagined—toned, lightly defined. Your throat dries up as if you’ve just run a marathon, but the only thing racing is your heart.

Honestly, you’re never really prepared for every time she gets more and more exposed. She places a hand on her hip, looking at you with that expression that makes you wonder how you never realized this before—that yes, Nayeon, the “nerd” of the class, was a girl far more complex than any Stokes theorem.

“So, what now? Want to continue or… are you satisfied?” She pouts adorably, challenging you, and you know, at that moment, that she wants you to keep going. After all, she’s having way too much fun.

You take a deep breath, determined, even though your mind is light-years away from any coherent thought.

“Sure. Next question. I’m going to win my prize.”

“What a determined guy,” Nayeon chuckles softly, with that teasing air, as if you were on a quiz show and not in some sort of erotically torturous strip game for the brave. “Alright then… explain the principle of superposition.”

She knew you had no idea. You knew that she knew. But what did it matter? What mattered was that your eyes were glued to every movement she made. She tilted her head, playing with the strap of her bra.

You think for a moment. Superposition… electric fields… sure, you got this.

“It’s when, hmm…” your voice cracks, but you force yourself to sound confident. “It’s when the sum of the effects of multiple causes is equal to the sum of the individual causes. Each field acts like the others aren’t even there.”

She leans in, subtly, fiddling with the strap of her bra, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Exactly,” she says, letting the strap fall with a slow motion from one shoulder. And then, from the other. “Congratulations.”

The bra falls to the floor.

You try, honestly try, to keep your focus on what’s happening, but there’s a problem. Actually, two, and both of them are right in front of you, fully exposed. No matter how much your mind insists that you need to concentrate on the game… you simply can’t.

“J-just one more question, right?” You stammer, desperately trying to focus on your shoes, the wall, anything but… well, Nayeon, and the fact that she was now practically naked.

She leans forward slightly, arms “casually” crossed, and you’re convinced she did this just to make sure your brain imploded. One of her breasts lightly brushes against her arm, and your mind screams something between HELP and THANK YOU.

"Exactly,” she says, and there’s a hint of malice in her voice, that tone that indicates she knows by now you’re one step away from a complete meltdown. “One last question. If you get it right… you win your prize. If you get it wrong… you’ll do the entire project alone.”

Your head throbs, struggling to focus on anything besides her smooth skin and the hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

“Alone?” you repeat, dumbfounded. A simple word, but you can barely get it out.

She bites her lip, enjoying herself. And then, in the most seductive voice possible, she drops the bomb:

“Of course… if you mess up now in the final minutes, you’ll have to do it all on your own. But if you get it right, you’ll see what’s under this,” she pulls at the side of her white panties slightly, just enough to let your imagination spin. “And who knows what else…” Her voice is a caress wrapped in pure temptation.

Yeah, it’s worth the risk.

Focus, you tell yourself, as if that’s remotely possible. Here you are, in a state of complete mental confusion, and Nayeon is there, almost naked, suggesting there’s just one question left before… well, paradise. And hell, too, because clearly, you wouldn’t survive doing this fucked-up project alone.

“Alright, let’s go,” you force the words out. “What’s the last question?”

Nayeon smiles in a way that says, I got you. And of course, she did. She leans in again, this time closer, her panties still firmly in place, but for how long?

“Ready for this?” she murmurs, with the tone of a final temptation. “What law of electromagnetism describes the relationship between the circulation of a magnetic field along a closed path and the electric current passing through the surface enclosed by that path?”

You freeze. Your mind is almost there, trying to grab the answer from some corner not focused on the fact that Nayeon is practically naked in front of you.

“Uh…” you begin, Nayeon sways her hips as she waits. “It’s… it’s…” you struggle. Nothing. Your mind is completely blank, a screen of static.

Nayeon sighs, as if she’s genuinely disappointed. Of course she’s not. She’s having way too much fun for that.

“Need a hint?” she offers, with a smile as sweet as it is devastating.

You nod desperately. Anything, for God’s sake, anything to help!

She whispers softly, “This law introduced the concept of ‘displacement current.’”

You blink, and then, as if by some miracle, the answer comes to you. But before you can speak it aloud, Nayeon leans in again and your traitorous eyes glance at her exposed breasts.

You almost forget the answer entirely, but a slip or whatever that was makes you say, “Ampère-Maxwell’s Law,” your voice trembling, unsure if physics is about to save you or be the last nail in the coffin of your sanity.

Nayeon looks you up and down.

She approved.

Slowly, as if savoring the moment, in a exaggeratedly calculated movement, she pulls her panties down, revealing everything.

Her curves are so smooth they seem hand-carved by some Renaissance artist with a thing for naughty nerd girls. Her entire body is a work of art, every inch of her pure perfection, and as she moves closer, you feel like you’re about to lose control for good.

Nayeon sits beside you, her legs slightly apart so you can see her tight little pussy. She looks you up and down, the same look that used to seem like someone fully focused on her studies, now carrying much more obvious intentions.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem as out of control as you really are.

"Yeah... Very much..." you respond, your voice rougher than usual, and before you know it, Nayeon is leaning in closer, her body heat practically radiating onto you.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispers, her lips just inches from yours. The suggestion lingers in the air, and your body seems to move on its own. Your hand rises, hesitant, until it reaches her breasts, your fingers feeling the smoothness of her skin and the firmness that makes you forget about any equation or college project. You squeeze lightly, and Nayeon lets out a soft sigh that drives you even crazier.

She leans in more, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes are gleaming.

"I’ve always liked you, you know?" she confesses, lightly biting her lower lip as her hand slides down your chest. "I've always thought you were really hot… and smart, too. You just needed a little help focusing on what matters. You’ve got potential, you just need to get rid of the distractions."

You chuckle nervously, still trying to process what’s happening.

"I never imagined you were like this… You always seemed so… well-behaved." The words come out with difficulty, your mind still reeling between what you thought you knew about Nayeon and what you're discovering now.

She laughs softly, amused, her eyes half-closed as she replies.

"You can’t judge a book by its cover," she says, her voice almost a whispered secret, as if she’s letting you in on something few people are privileged to know.

She then pulls your hand to her waist, and you squeeze, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body under your fingers. Nayeon’s body fits against yours in a way that feels almost orchestrated. Her hands, agile and confident, slide down to your thigh, in a way that makes your breathing quicken even more.

And then you feel her touch on your groin. It’s a slow tease, and she looks into your eyes with a smile that’s almost victorious.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.

Your heart is racing so fast you can barely think of a coherent response, but you nod, without hesitation.

"I do." The word escapes your lips, more of a groan than a response.

Nayeon smiles, that wicked smile you would never have associated with the girl who sat in the front row of the class.

"I’ve been dying to," she murmurs, the heat between you two rising with each second, promising much more than just an intellectual debate.

Nayeon kneels between your legs and prepares to take off her glasses. At that moment, it seems like the last facade of the “well-behaved nerd” is about to fall along with them. But you, in a sudden impulse of something even Freud would hesitate to analyze, reach out and say, almost automatically, “No, leave the glasses on. I like you like that.”

She stops, her fingers still hovering over the frames, and smiles in a way only someone about to change your fate could.

"Really?" She tilts her head, clearly liking the idea. Not just liking it—loving it. The kind of smile she gives you is one of someone who’s just gained a new strategic advantage in the game.

"Can you… do it… with the glasses on?" you ask, and honestly, now that the words are in the air, the question seems less weird than it should.

"Of course. If that’s what you want," Nayeon replies, the smile gaining an edge of provocation that makes you wonder if she hadn’t planned this all along.

She reaches for your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. Nayeon touches your cock, and the sensation makes you realize how small her hands are. With incredibly soft fingers, she grips it firmly, as if evaluating something rare, a treasure she’s just found. Her eyes, still behind the lenses, look up at you.

"Wow..." she murmurs, impressed. "It’s so… big and thick.”

If you had any chance of keeping your composure, it vanished with that sentence.

"Your hand… is so soft," you manage to say, your brain desperately trying to keep up with what’s happening.

Nayeon smiles.

"Oh, if you liked that, just wait until I put it in my mouth."

And that’s exactly what she does. Nayeon spits into her palm, the quick, indecent sound echoing in the room, and starts stroking you, her touch now sliding with the ease of something well-lubricated, almost clinical—if it weren’t absolutely pornographic.

And then, with little warning, she swallows.

Just like that. As if she’d been trained at some secret school of forbidden pleasure, her mouth wraps around your cock, warm, wet, and with a desire bordering on voracious. She looks up at you from below, her glasses still firmly in place.

You writhe in pleasure. Nothing else matters. Not the project, not life’s worries. Just Nayeon, and the way she sucks, kisses, and takes you deep, with a dedication that would make anyone believe she’s indeed “studying” something.

"I’m going to use my breasts now," she says, stopping briefly, her voice slightly hoarse, as she adjusts her breasts, squeezing them around your cock.

Ah, Nayeon’s breasts. Warm, soft, and incredibly seductive, they create the perfect “pillow” as she starts giving you a titjob. And the glasses? Still there, perfectly framing her face, turning this whole thing into an improbable, yet wonderful fantasy.

The sensation of her breasts pressing against your cock is a next-level delight. Nayeon, with a mischievous look and a voice barely above a whisper, asks, "Are you enjoying this, babe?"

You can only groan in response, the sensation so intense that words refuse to form properly. Her breasts move up and down, creating a warm, sweaty pressure that’s almost indescribable. She adjusts the rhythm.

"This is..." you manage to say, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Fuck, this is amazing."

The pleasure builds, a rising heat that seems to have a life of its own as Nayeon keeps working her magic. Her breasts, pressing and rubbing with delicious intensity, create waves of pleasure that only get stronger.

As the rhythm quickens, Nayeon gives a satisfied smile. Her breasts continue to move up and down, the sensation around your cock hot and wet, and you feel the pressure and heat mounting.

You start to squirm, the sensations growing more and more intense. The pleasure is so overwhelming it feels like your body is on the verge of exploding. Nayeon adjusts the pressure and pace, making every touch and movement you feel even more intense.

“Am I making you feel good?” Nayeon asks.

You can only nod, the feeling of being on the brink of climax almost overwhelming. Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel yourself nearing the point of no return... something Nayeon hadn’t anticipated.

Then, just as the pleasure reaches an almost unbearable level, you cum. The first spurt surprises her, landing on her face. She stays there, wide-eyed and gasping, her glasses now smeared with your semen. She accepts what happened and keeps stroking you, and the second, weaker spurt drips down onto her breasts, slowly trickling. She finishes the job by rubbing your cock on her chest, spreading your cum all over her breasts until they’re thoroughly messy. When she stops, you exhale, feeling like you’re in paradise.

“Fuck… that was so damn good, Nayeon…”

She stays still for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and indignation. The intensity of your orgasm seems to have caught her so off guard that even she needs a moment to process it.

“Why did you cum?!” Nayeon asks, removing her glasses, her voice filled with a mix of irritation and unfulfilled desire. “You haven’t even fucked me yet!”

Breathless and slightly embarrassed, you try to defuse the situation.

“Well, take it as a compliment,” you say, a sheepish smile forming on your face. “You’re just too hot for me to handle.”

Luckily for you, this makes Nayeon smile, the irritation melting into a flush. She relaxes, though still with a teasing edge.

“Tsk. But next time, don’t cum on my glasses,” she says, her voice softer now. “But if it felt good for you, I guess I can forgive it. Just know that I’ll make sure you get hard for me again,” she says with an authority that makes her even more irresistible.

Nayeon moves closer, slowly, like a predator about to capture its prey, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and mischief. You feel the air shift as she approaches, as though the entire room is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low but filled with an authority that makes you obey without hesitation.

In an instant, you’re naked, sitting on the bed, vulnerable, your heart pounding faster. Nayeon watches you, a smile spreading across her lips, like she’s admiring a masterpiece she’s about to perfect. She sits beside you with a calculated calm, and before you know it, her lips are on yours—soft at first, then more intense, as if she’s learning every inch of your mouth.

Between kisses, her hand starts exploring your body, moving slowly, until it reaches exactly where you want it most. Her fingers wrap around your cock, and the touch is... electrifying. It’s not just any touch; it’s the kind that knows exactly what it’s doing. She strokes you lightly, almost teasingly, while her lips pull away just enough for her to whisper in your ear:

“Remember that time in class when the professor asked me to help you with an assignment?” She pauses, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you to fuck me until I came.”

The effect of her words is immediate. Your entire body reacts before your mind can even catch up. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, almost as if it’s following an unspoken command. She feels it and giggles softly, a sound just as provocative as every move of her fingers.

“Look at you…” she says, her voice full of amusement and a hint of mockery. “You’re getting hard for me again, aren’t you? What a naughty boy.”

Your heart races, and you can hardly respond. All you can do is gaze at her while your desire skyrockets. Her hand moves slowly and deliberately, teasing every part of you, while her eyes stay locked on yours, as if savoring every second.

“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Nayeon asks, her voice soft but filled with a promise you know she’ll fulfill.

“So much,” you reply, almost breathless, anticipation taking over every inch of your being.

She smirks—that dangerous smile that says, "Exactly what I wanted to hear." Her lips return to yours, but this time there’s more urgency, a hunger building with every passing moment. Her hand moves with more intention now, and your excitement grows at an unimaginable rate.

“I knew you were like this…” she murmurs between kisses, her lips nearly glued to yours. “Such a horny little thing, always wanting more.”

She tightens her grip slightly, making you squirm, the pleasure coursing through you with every squeeze, every word whispered like a secret shared only with you.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her eyes glint as her hand continues its strategic work. “You like me teasing you.”

“Yes,” you manage to say, your voice shaky with desire.

Nayeon pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile blending amusement with seduction.

“Good, because I love teasing you…” she says, then leans down, as if she’s about to do something even more daring. Her lips brush against your neck, lightly biting as her hand slides lower, teasing and gripping, leaving you on the edge of collapse.

“Think you can handle another round?” she asks, her voice now full of challenge.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you respond, trying to keep your composure but knowing you’re completely at her mercy.

“Let’s see then,” she whispers against your skin, and before you know it, she’s moving down, her lips traveling across your body, and you lean back onto the bed. She leaves a trail of kisses and bites along your chest and stomach, making her way lower.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and with one final mischievous smile, she leans back up just enough to brush her lips against yours without fully kissing.

“Are you ready to fuck me now?” she asks.

And without a doubt, you are.

Nayeon lies back on the bed, slowly pulling you on top of her until you feel the warmth of her body against yours. The way she molds perfectly beneath you feels like she was made for this. Your hands trace the contours of her breasts, fingers pressing gently against her skin as you slide into her slowly, savoring every second. Your lips meet hers in a slow, intense kiss, tongues moving in sync with the rhythm of your hips—thrusting in and out, deepening with each stroke.

She moans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your whole body, making you speed up a little while still keeping control. Nayeon breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, eyes closed, and you take the chance to kiss her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. "You like this, don't you?" you whisper in her ear, your voice low and husky as you keep thrusting, feeling how tightly she clenches around you.

"Fuck… yes," she breathes out, her nails now digging into your back, scratching you with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."

You obey without thinking, picking up the pace, each thrust deeper and more deliberate. Her moans grow louder, almost turning into screams, and it only drives you to go harder. You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, sucking her lower lip between yours as your hips move in a nearly frantic rhythm. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with her broken moans and your own heavy breathing.

"You're so fucking hot," you say between kisses, softly biting along her jawline as you lose yourself in the sensation. "So tight… fuck, Nayeon."

She opens her eyes, looking at you with a mix of challenge and pleasure, her face flushed and sweaty. "Come on, fuck me harder… don’t stop," she pleads, pulling you down for another kiss, this one desperate, as if she needs every touch of yours to survive. You oblige, thrusting harder, while her moans turn into muffled cries as your mouths stay connected.

But then, you decide to switch positions. Science, after all, is about experimentation. You position her at the edge of the bed, Nayeon's legs lifted and spread wide, her pussy on full display—pink and pulsing, inviting. The sight makes you lose control for a moment as you grab her thighs, pulling her closer to you. With one hand, you line up your cock, the tip already slick with excitement, before sliding it inside, feeling the warmth wrap around you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with both your moans.

Nayeon looks up at you, a wild gleam in her eyes, completely different from the girl everyone thinks they know. "You're such a filthy pervert," she growls through gritted teeth, her voice low and dripping with lust. "Fucking your study partner like this, so dirty… Do you see what you've done to me? The little nerd everyone thinks is so innocent, and look where I am now, all spread out for you…"

The sound of her voice, the moans slipping out as you fuck her harder and deeper, only makes you lose more control. "Innocent?" you mutter, your breathing ragged. "You pretend to be the good little student, but with me, you love being a slut, don’t you?"

She lets out a wicked laugh, cut off by a louder moan as you thrust even deeper. "I fucking love it. I love how you make me forget everything… I love being your little slut. I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."

Your movements grow faster, each thrust pulling louder moans from her. You grip her thighs tight, pulling her into you with each thrust, your eyes fixed on the sight of your cock sliding in and out, completely soaked. "Look at you," you growl, your voice dripping with taunt. "So depraved… No one would guess that the nerdy girl from class is here, begging to be fucked like a whore."

Nayeon lets out a long, drawn-out moan, almost a scream, her body arching beneath you, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "Yes! Fuck me harder, fuck! I want you to know this is what I love… I love being the little nerd only you can fuck like this. Faster, harder!"

You don't hesitate, your hips slamming against hers in a frenzied pace, the heat and pressure of every thrust consuming you both. Her legs tremble, and you keep pounding with force and precision. "Admit it, Nayeon," you say through gritted teeth, picking up the pace. "You love being my little slut…"

She opens her eyes, staring at you with an almost possessive intensity. "Fuck, yes! I’m your slut. Fuck me more, fuck my pussy like I’m only yours…" You lower yourself onto her, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of your heat into her through the kiss as you keep thrusting, and between desperate, erratic kisses, she gasps, "Take me from behind now. I want you deep inside me, you filthy pervert!”

You pull away from her, and Nayeon promptly positions herself on your messy bed, arching her back, ready. Your approach is almost reverent. You position yourself behind her as you lower your head slowly, your eyes tracing the sight she offers—her wet pussy, swollen with excitement, and just above, her tight little ass, teasing you. She’s so exposed, so vulnerable, yet there’s a confidence in her, like she’s fully aware of what’s coming. And that’s exactly what turns her on.

Before making a move, you let your warm breath brush against her skin, sending shivers through her body. Nayeon lets out a shaky sigh, and her back arches even more. “Don’t make me wait…” she murmurs, a mix of urgency and need in her voice.

With a sly grin, you lower your mouth, and your tongue finally touches the slick entrance of her pussy. The taste is addictive, just as you suspected. You start with soft, long licks, gliding along the length of her lips, savoring every drop of her juices. Nayeon responds immediately, letting out quiet moans, her breathing already quickening.

“You… know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks, her voice broken by little gasps.

You chuckle lightly between licks but don’t answer. Your hands firmly grip Nayeon’s ass, keeping her in place as your tongue slides deeper, exploring her sensitive folds. Each time you graze the entrance of her pussy, it clenches, almost begging to be filled, but you refuse to give her everything at once. Instead, you decide to tease her even more.

Sliding your tongue upward, you slowly trace circles around her tight little asshole, making it wet with your saliva. The reaction is instant—Nayeon’s body trembles, and her moans intensify. “Oh my God… keep going… please…” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea.

You alternate between quick, gentle licks, sometimes focusing on her swollen, slick pussy, other times on her sensitive ass, driving her to the brink of losing control. Your tongue dances between the two spots, teasing and pleasing her at the same time. With every new touch, Nayeon’s moans grow louder, more urgent.

“You… you like this, don’t you, you pervert?” she asks with a muffled voice, her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I love how you taste,” you murmur against her skin.

She lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Of course you do, I’m… delicious.” And you can’t help but agree. Your tongue continues to explore, licking deep into her pussy and then sliding up to her ass, enjoying the way her body reacts to every touch. Your fingers dig into her ass cheeks harder, leaving red marks on her pale skin.

Nayeon’s moans mix with uncontrollable whispers, each word escaping between ragged breaths. “Please… you’re killing me,” she begs, her voice thick with pleasure, her eyes half-closed in pure lust. “Fuck me… just fuck me already!”

Her plea is desperate, loaded with an almost imperious urgency, and you, with a mischievous smile, position yourself behind her, watching as she pushes her ass higher, her slick pussy begging for more. “You sure you can take it?” you tease, your hands already gripping her hips, but before she can even respond, you pull her back, aligning yourself with precision, the head of your cock brushing against her lips.

“Just do it, fuck,” Nayeon shouts, her tone commanding but dripping with so much desire that you can’t resist. In one swift motion, you thrust into her, and the wet heat of her pussy envelops you completely. Pleasure shoots through you like an electric current, and she arches her back, pushing against you, as if begging you to go deeper, faster.

You start slowly, savoring each thrust, each inch sliding in and out of her, but soon the pace picks up, driven by the uncontrollable moans pouring out of Nayeon. “Faster… harder,” she moans, her voice faltering with each deeper thrust, and you don’t hesitate. Your hands sink into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her steady as you speed up, the thrusts becoming more intense, more brutal.

“Look at you, so prim and proper in class, but here…” you say between thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Here you’re just my little slut. The nerd who loves being fucked like a whore.”

Nayeon moans loudly, her voice breaking into wicked laughter. “Is that what you want, huh? To know the nerd loves being fucked like this, like a depraved little slut… Make me scream, fuck!”

With each slap to her ass, she moans louder, her pale skin turning red with every hit. “Hit me harder,” she begs, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. And you oblige, slapping her harder, leaving red marks as you bury yourself deeper inside her.

“You’re an unbelievable slut,” you growl, picking up the pace, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate moans from her. “You pretend to be so good, but look at you now… begging for more.”

“I’m your slut,” she screams, pushing her ass back against you even harder. “Do whatever you want with me… I love being fucked like this, fuck! Make me yours, make me cum.”

You keep going, your thrusts becoming frenzied, your hips moving with an uncontrollable speed and intensity. “Fuck, look at you,” you taunt, feeling your own pleasure building. “You love being treated like this, like a desperate little whore. Scream for me, Nayeon.”

“Yes, yes!” she screams, her voice thick with pleasure, almost hoarse. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, babe!”

Her body trembling as her climax approaches. Suddenly, she arches her back, pushing her ass harder against you, and her voice cracks as she screams, “I’m... going... to cum!”

Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock, pulsing and shaking as she’s overtaken by the orgasm, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy while your relentless thrusts continue. But you don't stop. Her pleasure only drives you further, each thrust pulling everything out of her, Nayeon’s body writhing, each scream feeding your own growing desire.

“Yeah… Fuck me, make me yours,” she keeps begging, even in the middle of her own climax, completely surrendered to the sensation.

You can feel your own orgasm building, heat rising fast, pressure mounting. “I’m going to cum,” you warn, your voice rough and broken, unable to stop as the final thrusts send you both over the edge.

The feeling of her pulsating pussy around your cock pushes you to the brink, and with one last frustrated groan, you pull out. Nayeon gasps for a moment, recovering from her orgasm as she kneels down on the floor, almost like she already knows what to do – and, honestly, she does. Her eyes lock on you, her face slightly flushed, and her mouth already open, waiting eagerly like the diligent student she is.

You grip your cock with one hand, still throbbing, and bring it to her lips. With her mouth wide, Nayeon wraps her lips around you once more, sucking softly with a gentleness that almost belies the fevered desire etched across her face. You pull out of her mouth, stroking yourself quickly, feeling the pressure mounting further.

Nayeon waits, obedient, with her tongue stretched out, her eyes hungry and fixed on you, knowing exactly the effect that has on you. When the moment hits, the first spurt of cum lands on her warm tongue, and Nayeon doesn’t even blink. She takes it all in with pleasure, as you empty yourself into her mouth, your body shuddering, nearly out of control.

She keeps her mouth open the entire time, her tongue coated in your cum, and when you finally finish, she closes her lips, licking them as the taste spreads. With perfect manners, she shows you her full mouth, eyes full of playful mischief, and then, without breaking eye contact, she swallows it all in one gulp, her throat moving slowly.

“See?” she says with a satisfied smile, as if she’d just passed a test with flying colors. “I swallowed it all without spilling a drop.”

But, of course, Nayeon, ever the overachiever, wasn’t finished. Before you can catch your breath, she leans in again, taking your sensitive cock into her mouth, sucking with an intensity that makes you moan involuntarily. The jolt of pleasure is so sharp that you try to pull away, your body trembling, but she holds you firmly, her mouth working at a pace that borders on cruel.

“Fuck!... I can’t take any more!” you try to protest, your voice breaking, but Nayeon just hums in response, pulling you out only long enough to say, “Not yet,” before closing her lips around you again, sucking you until, finally, she decides she’s satisfied.

When she releases you, you’re left gasping, almost paralyzed from the intensity of it all. Nayeon smiles sweetly, victorious, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers before saying with calm satisfaction, “Mmm, Now that was delicious.”

—

As you desperately gulp water from your bottle, the silence that follows your impromptu "study session" lingers heavily in the air, a strange return to reality. Nayeon had stood up, her hair still slightly messy and a small smile playing on her lips, before heading to the bathroom. She walked with the confidence of someone who had just solved a particularly tricky math problem.

And now you're here, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water as she washes her face and cleans her glasses, removing any trace of... well, *you*. Then, because life loves to remind you that nothing is ever simple, your mind starts to wander. What, exactly, just happened? Oh, right. You were working on a project. A project that, incidentally, hasn’t moved an inch forward.

Nayeon steps out of the bathroom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor, dressing herself piece by piece, taking her time, like you were a couple with decades of shared intimacy. She finishes by adjusting her glasses, almost like she’s putting a crown back on after a victorious battle. She sits back down in her chair, opens the laptop as if nothing had happened, and lets out a satisfied but determined sigh.

“Alright,” she says, as if she hadn’t just left you weak-kneed. “Let’s get back to the project.”

You stare at her, incredulous. As if it were possible to get back to the project after that.

And then you realize you’re still naked. You quickly slip on your boxers and pants.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can focus on my part right now,” you admit, your voice still a bit hoarse.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” She smiles that smile—a mix of mischief and... surprisingly efficient academic prowess. “As long as you keep fucking me, of course. I have to be rewarded somehow.”

You’re speechless for a moment, because, well... you don’t exactly have a counterargument. In fact, it seems like the best deal you’ve ever made in your life.

“Deal,” you say, trying to sound cool, as if you weren’t absolutely thrilled by the arrangement.

Inside, though, you’re jumping for joy.

She adjusts her glasses, watching you for a moment, and you notice that glint in her eyes—a mix of ego, intelligence, and... something else that makes your heart race. Or maybe it’s just the recent sex.

Hard to say.

“But,” she cuts through your thoughts with a serious tone, “no one can know about this. We have to meet in secret. No telling anyone.”

“I swear I won’t tell.”

You wonder how you ended up in this situation, but the answer seems obvious. Who in their right mind would turn down a request like that?

She smiles, satisfied, and turns her attention back to the laptop, as if everything were perfectly resolved.

“Besides,” Nayeon adds, without looking up, “if you need help with any other subject, you can count on me. After all, I think we work well together, don’t we?”

You just nod, but there’s something about her—something between the proud nerd and the bold confidence—that drives you wild. Wild with desire, of course, but also something deeper. And as you watch her, so focused, adjusting her glasses like she’s planning the next phase of a secret mission, you realize that you’re falling for the class nerd.

Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she has a way of disarming you at every turn.

But it’s more than that. It’s as if every time she looks at you with that “know-it-all” air or talks about a complicated academic concept, your mind equates it with something incredibly sexy. And suddenly, your love life has turned into an equation you can’t—and don’t want to—solve.

And, of course, the fact that she’s amazing in bed doesn’t hurt, either.

“Should we meet tomorrow?” you ask casually.

Nayeon doesn’t even look up, just gives a small “mm-hmm” of confirmation, her fingers still typing away.

“Your place again. Same time. Clean up your room... And answer the door in your boxers.”

She glances at you slightly, smiling, and you know exactly what that smile means. And, well, you’re not in any position to complain. In fact, if studying had always been like this, maybe you'd have been the best student in class.

—

As you walk Nayeon to the door, you can’t help but think that maybe you’ve uncovered the true secret to academic success. And who would have thought it was a sexy nerd with glasses who secretly turned out to be a naughty girl who liked sneaking off for sex?

As she leaves, you can’t help but smile when your eyes meet one last time. Not just because of the deal you’ve just made, but because, for the first time in a long while, you’re genuinely excited to "study" with someone. Suddenly, the academic world seems a lot more interesting.

You close the door, but something lingers in the air. Maybe it’s the smell of your sweat—you still haven’t showered, after all. Maybe it’s the trace of Nayeon’s perfume. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one of the most unexpectedly erotic adventures of your life.

-----------

A/n: Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Thanks for reading.

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sinsirellaxx · 9 months ago

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Slytherin Boys – What they do when you neglect them

Warning: East or west, toxic Slytherin boys are the best. 👀

Mattheo …

… definitely will make you jealous to make you regret neglecting him. And if the reason for your lack of attention is another male, he might just stand you up for the girl you like the least – and you will be made aware of the fact that you have been momentarily replaced by her.

If you confront him, all teary eyed and frustrated, he will just make a tutting noise as he tilts his head to the side, his hands in his pockets while staring at you coldly. “What are you mad about? She was just … keeping me company while you were busy hanging with those Gryffindor idiots you call your friends.” He spat as he pushed himself off his table, walking closer to you until he was almost pressed against you. “You neglected me.”

Theodore …

… would cheat on you. After days of being almost completely ignored by you he had enough – he wasn’t known to be a patient man to begin with. After a week he sent you a message asking you to come to his room after dinner to talk about an urgent matter. As soon as you opened the door you were met with the sight of a girl kneeling between Theodore’s legs, with his trousers and boxers pooling around his ankles.

He was already staring at you with indifference when you raised your head to look at him in horror. He pushed the other girl away from him who immediately scrambled out of the room when she noticed you.

“Don’t look at me like that, amore.” Theodore broke the silence before you could say anything, still utterly speechless from what you had just witnessed. “You’ve been ignoring me for the past few days … I have needs too, you know?” Theodore spoke lowly as his gaze pierced straight through you. His gaze softened slightly when your lower lip started trembling, the tears in your eyes rolling down your flushed cheeks. “Baby, don’t cry.” The tall male sighed as he lifted one of his hands to motion you over. “Come on, stop crying. I only love you, you know that, right?” He managed to take a hold of one of your wrists and forcefully pulled you between his still spread legs. “Now, be a good girl and take over.”

Lorenzo …

… would make you taste your own medicine. As soon as you finished all your assignments that had piled up over the last few weeks you were left on read by your boyfriend. Not suspecting anything you had looked for him everywhere until you finally found him in the courtyard with his friends. He stared at you coldly when you made eye contact before turning to look back at one of his friends – completely ignoring you. And before you could reach him, he had already turned around and left.

The next few days Lorenzo avoided you, only replying with short answers whenever you texted him – if he replied at all.

When Friday hit you confronted him in his dorm room, standing at the foot of his bed with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“Oh, did you finally remember that you have a boyfriend?” Lorenzo scoffed with his brow raised as he watched your face fall.

“You’re not the only one that has to do assignments, you know? You have a lot to apologize for, don’t you think?”

Draco …

… he’d immediately demand your attention. You had been huddled up in the library, studying for the upcoming exams as Draco stormed to your table, ripping the book out of your hands, throwing it to the side as he glared at you. What he hadn’t expected, however, was you scolding him for interrupting your studies. Taking a deep breath the blonde male scoffed. How dare you be mad at him?

“You will regret it if you keep neglecting me like this, doll. I have my limits too.” He whispered harshly before rushing out of the library.

Blaise …

… would fake being sick to have you around him 24/7. He would be very convincing and even go to the length of getting one of the Weasley twin’s inventions to make hiss act even more believable. You’d throw the door to his room open, rushing to his bed with worried eyes as apologies spilled from your lips. Blaise blinked at you as you sat down next to him on the bed, sighing blissfully as you cupped his warm face in your cold hands. You would feel like the worst girlfriend ever and he would use that to make you pamper him until he felt better again. “Can you please cuddle me, I’m so cold.” Blaise croaked out, biting back a smirk as you immediately kicked off your shoes before climbing into bed with him.

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moviecritc · 6 months ago

Text

like the movies ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x actress!reader

summary: even though you've been all your life acting, you never experienced a love like the movies, until max appeared in your life

word count: 1.7K

warnings: none, just pure fluff

a/n: I'm going through a max verstappen phase, so if you have any requests for a blurb or something cute, send them <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

"Are you breaking up with me over the phone? While I'm on my way to your parents' house? Are you stupid or what?" With each sentence, Y/N's voice grew louder.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry. But…"

"But my ass! Don’t you have any common sense?"

She could hear her boyfriend sigh, and she sighed four times louder than him.

"You are too… cold-hearted for me," he finally said from the other end of the line.

Y/N stifled an exclamation. Cold-hearted? How could she be if she was an actress? She was the warmest person he had known.

"You're always focused on your job and yourself, I need someone…"

"Idiot!" Y/N interrupted him. "Just say you don’t have enough self-love to date an independent woman. You worthless piece of shit."

She hung up after her sentence, not wanting to hear her ex-boyfriend's response. She parked the car and ran her hands over her face. She looked at herself in the little mirror of her car, touching up her lipstick and reassuring herself that she was a good person worthy of love.

She got out of her car and went directly to the bookstore in front of her. She still had quite a few books in her apartment to read, but she didn’t mind. It was her third breakup in four months, and she was starting to wonder if she really was the problem, and the only thing that could distract her from that was spending money she didn't have.

She began to pile books on her arms, and by the fifth manuscript, she started to wobble.

"Do you need help?"

Y/N blinked and peeked her head out from the stack of books, meeting a blonde with a very un-London-like accent and skinny jeans who looked like anything but someone who worked in a bookstore. She didn't know that strangers were now offering help out there.

"No, thanks," She took a step and added a sixth book, enough for all of them to fall. "Shit!"

Y/N felt so embarrassed she even blushed. She knew everyone in the bookstore would be watching her, and that terrified her.

"May I help you now?"

Y/N looked up, having completely forgotten about the presence of the stranger, who was looking at her with a kind smile.

"If you insist…" She smiled a little while rolling her eyes, which made him smile too.

They picked up the books together, which were a bunch of rom-coms. For a moment she thought he would judge her choices, but he didn’t make any gesture.

"I'm Max, by the way"

Y/N blinked. She had no idea what was happening, it seemed totally unreal that a stranger would help her pick up her books and suddenly introduce himself.

"Do you like Sally Rooney?" he asked, holding the last book she'd picked.

Y/N realized that this guy wanted to keep a trivial conversation with her, like those you have in nightclub bathrooms with girls. But this time was a bookstore, not a library. And not a girl, but a Max.

"I’ve never read her, but I saw Normal People, the series, and I was left wanting more," she explained, with a shy smile. "Y/N, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," he showed her a gorgeous smile. "I read the book, I haven’t had time to watch the series yet."

"Oh, it's really good,"

The conversation flowed too easily. She wasn’t used to talking so normally with someone she had just met a few minutes ago and moreover without it being awkward, but that was how it was. Y/N told him about the books she planned to buy and the one she was reading now.

"Excuse me, we're going to close," an employee informed them. In London, shops always closed in the mid-afternoon, for lunch, and although Y/N had arrived around eleven-thirty, the clock was almost striking one. "Are you taking the books?"

"Sure, yes," said Y/N at once and turned to Max. "Hold on a sec."

Max waved his hand, telling her not to worry, that he would wait. She paid for the books and quickly returned to Max.

"Do you have plans for this afternoon?" Max asked directly. Y/N loved the confidence in his voice.

"No, I don’t,"

"Can I invite you to lunch?"

"I'd love that,"

Y/N went to leave the bag of books in her car and she and Max walked to a nearby restaurant, continuing their conversation. It still seemed extremely surreal to her, in what universe does she break up with her boyfriend and moments later meet the nicest guy she had ever known?

"What do you do?" Max asked, once they were seated in the restaurant.

"I'm an actress," she pursed her lips. She was still in the phase where it was hard for her to admit she worked in that field.

"I'm not much into movies," Max commented, scrunching his nose.

"Great because I do theater,"

"Really?" he leaned back in his chair, impressed. "I don’t frequent the theater either, to be honest."

They both laughed softly and Y/N sipped her drink. "And you?"

"I work with cars,"

Y/N furrowed her brow, waiting for him to specify a bit more. "In a repair shop or how?"

That caused a small laugh from Max, leaving Y/N even more confused.

"Yes, exactly. In a repair shop," he continued with a wide smile.

"Well, if you like cars, there's some Prix thing here this weekend. There are tourists everywhere, it's terrible," she complained, rolling her eyes a bit.

Max gave her a goofy smile. That was perfect. Simply perfect.

"Really?" he arched his eyebrows slightly. "I had no idea."

"They do it every year. A silly thing," Y/N shrugged, letting the topic pass.

They continued talking for a long time about how Y/N once almost knocked down the shelves in a bookstore.

"Just like in the movies!" Max said, laughing.

She nodded, also laughing. "I swear things like a character in a tragicomedy happen to me."

They continued laughing for a while, then Max squinted a bit, resting his head on the palms of his hands. "And don’t you think it’s very movie-like that someone picks up your books for you?"

Y/N looked around, with sudden terror. "Where are the cameras, Max?"

He threw his head back laughing with a soft scrunch in his nose. The sound of his laugh felt really warm for Y/N.

"I hope nowhere," Max was right. Too good to be true. Too good to happen to her. Her look darkened a bit, and Max noticed it quickly. "Something wrong?"

She looked up and shook her head a little. "It's just… Is this weird?"

"I don’t think so, unless you want to make it weird. I’m pretty good at that,"

Max got a small smile from her.

"It's just that I’m used to…” Y/N thought about that sentence. “To things like this not happening to me. I haven’t been doing too well in love this past year,"

"Oh, me neither," Max didn’t mention the part about being a famous person and everyone wanting to be with him out of pure interest and not because they really liked him. "It's complicated."

"Quite," she pursed her lips. "Anyway… I have a performance at a theater in Soho on Thursday, you could come by. If you want, of course."

Max bit his lip; he had his first free practice that day and likely several meetings and driver duties.

"Oh, I'd love to. What time?"

They exchanged phones after the meal, which dragged on quite a bit, so that Y/N could send Max the location of the theater. And to exchange several messages throughout the day. They didn't see each other again until the day of the performance, but in that time, they had written dozens of messages. Y/N would tell Max about the series or movie she had watched that afternoon and recommended that he watch it, even though it was more than likely that Max hadn't turned on a TV in months.

Thursday arrived, and Max managed to sneak away from a meeting, arriving just in time for the play.

Y/N was nervous, and her co-star wasn't helping.

"Y/N!" Her co-star approached practically running. "I just heard that a famous driver is watching the play."

"Really?" She didn't care too much. She had been without news from Max for hours.

Luckily, he appeared at the door with a kind smile and a bouquet of roses. "Hi,"

Y/N flashed a smile and went up to him, instinctively wanting to hug him. Max, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, left a short kiss on her lips. She instantly blushed.

"Hello," Y/N greeted, with a silly smile. "Gorgeous flowers."

Max looked at her co-star, who was completely astonished.

"Lily, are you okay?" questioned Y/N, still hugging Max.

"Why didn't you tell me you were dating a famous driver?"

Y/N turned to Max instantly.

"What do you mean, 'famous driver'?"

Max pursed his lips slightly. "Aren't you going to call her out on the 'dating' thing?"

Y/N paused for a moment, trying not to laugh at what Max had said.

"Y/N, this is Max Verstappen. The Formula 1 driver!"

She lifted her chin and looked at Max again. "Formula 1 driver?"

Max scratched his neck.

"I think so…"

Y/N paused again for a moment. "And you let me mock your career just like that?"

"It's because you're strangely nice, what can I do," Max shrugged, causing Y/N to laugh.

"Well, I'm not one to deny it," she smiled a bit, then kissed Max's lips a second time. She placed a finger on his chest. "Though we're not dating, huh. We need to have a second date before we throw it all in for each other,"

Max burst out laughing. "Like they do in the movies?"

"Absolutely."

taglist; @theseerbetweenus

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misswynters · 4 months ago

Text

By the fire light

Jacaerys Velaryon x gn!reader

[warning: fluffiness that’s all!

[synopsis: You and jace spent time in the library, talking about nonsense.

[note | send requests and asks. y’all love my jace fics so here ya go! more

The library in Dragonstone was a haven of serenity, its high shelves brimming with ancient tomes and maps. The crackling fireplace illuminated the room with a warm, inviting glow. The scent of aged parchment and burning logs mingled in the air, creating a cozy atmosphere perfect for a quiet evening.

Jacaerys Velaryon and you were nestled in one corner of the library. Jacaerys had managed to find a comfortable spot on a large, overstuffed armchair, while you were curled up in a soft, velvet armchair across from him. A large table between you held an array of books, scrolls, and a few scattered quills, though both of you seemed more interested in each other than in your studies.

The fire's light danced in Jacaerys’s dark eyes as he looked up from the book he had been pretending to read. His gaze drifted to you, who were intently absorbed in a book of your own. Your brow furrowed in concentration, and a small smile played on your lips as you turned the pages.

“Do you think,” Jacaerys began, breaking the comfortable silence, “that if we had a dragon in this library, it would prefer curling up by the fire or snoozing among the books?”

You glanced up, your eyes meeting his with an amused sparkle. You closed your book with a soft thud and stretched your arms before replying, “Definitely curling up by the fire. Dragons do seem to like warmth and comfort, don’t they?”

Jacaerys grinned, leaning forward slightly. “And what about us? Do you think we’d be like the dragon or the books?”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully challenging him. “Are you saying you’d rather be a dragon?”

Jacaerys chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “I think I’d prefer the dragon’s company. Much more exciting than a pile of dusty old books.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible, Jace. Always finding a way to distract me.”

Jacaerys’s eyes softened as he leaned closer. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “But isn’t that what you love about me?”

Your heart fluttered at the gentle pressure of his hand. You looked down at your intertwined fingers, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Perhaps. But don’t let it go to your head.”

He grinned, his smile widening. “I’ll try, but no promises. I do enjoy making you smile.”

You sighed contentedly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you both looked at the fire. The warmth of the flames and Jacaerys’s gentle presence created a perfect moment of tranquility. You felt as though nothing else in the world mattered except this quiet, shared moment.

As the fire crackled and popped, Jacaerys began to softly hum a familiar tune, the melody intertwining with the rhythmic crackle of the flames. The gentle sound was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting the warmth and peace envelop you.

“Jace,” you murmured, “sometimes I think I could stay here forever. Just us and the fire.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a warm murmur in your ear. “I could think of nothing better. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I’m glad we have these moments, Jace. They mean more than you know.”

He pulled you a little closer, his arm wrapping around you protectively. “Me too. And I promise, there will be many more.”

The fire continued to dance and crackle, casting a golden glow around the room. In the heart of Dragonstone, surrounded by the quiet presence of the man you loved and the warmth of the fire, everything felt right.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @thornsandtulips @spn-obession @beebeechaos @diannnnsss @thebenjiblackwoodexpress

banner: @cafekitsune

#house of the dragon #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #house targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #hotd fluff #hotd headcanon

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holylulusworld · 7 months ago

Text

Gun for hire (1)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, being followed, sunshine reader

Gun for hire (Prologue)

Gun for hire masterlist

Lloyd curses himself once again.

He still didn’t get his money. His newest client is an annoying piece of shit. And on top of the pile of shit, this assignment turned into, the exotic beard wax he wanted to order was sold out.

In other words. Lloyd Hansen is fucking livid.

This doesn’t keep him from following his latest target around town.

So far you went to work, bought a muffin on your way to the library, and talked to the librarian for half an hour.

Lloyd yawns, bored beyond belief. He never followed such a boring person. Most of the people he killed were criminals, or at least interesting. You’re just…too nice.

You made it your mission to visit the elderly librarian every day after work to make sure she gets her extra portion of sugar – hence the muffin you bought. Plus, you try to make her feel needed by asking questions about books you already read.

He’s close to calling it a day when a man walks past you and the librarian. The man bumps into your side and has the guts to yell at you.

Lloyd pokes his head around the shelf he is hiding behind to watch you smile at the man. He can’t believe that you smile at a man yelling at you not moments ago.

“Crazy,” he concludes but decides to watch you for a little longer. Assignment or not, he’s got nothing better to do today.

“Sir,” you carefully pat the man’s arm while you speak to him in a low, but soft tone. “Your day must have been hard.” You batt your eyelashes, and smile again. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been so rude, right?”

The man suddenly smiles and apologizes repeatedly. The man’s whole demeanor changed so suddenly Lloyd could not believe his eyes.

“Drugs maybe…or a hidden gun?” Lloyd wonders. No man ever changed their opinion so fast without being under the influence of drugs, or in danger. “That woman must be the devil in disguise or something. She must be more dangerous than I first thought.”

“Come on, do something more exciting,” Lloyd grunts as your daily routine drives him up the walls. He looks at his notes again and sighs deeply.

He rereads his notes and tries to find new information.

“Work. Buying something sweet for Grace, the elderly librarian. Talking to said librarian for half an hour. Going home. Watching TV.”

This is not how imagined his Friday night would look like. He wanted to spend it at his favorite strip club, a pretty girl’s mouth wrapped around his dick.

“She’s so…” he rubs his tired eyes, “boring. I can’t believe someone wants to kill her.” Lloyd ignores the kink in his neck and his burning eyes, or the fact that he’s watching you giggle at something your elderly neighbor said. “I hate her so much.”

He could just end your life or call it a day, but he keeps on watching you smile and giggle. “She’s a fucking ray of sunshine. What the fuck!”

Lloyd shakes his head. Today someone spilled coffee all over your pretty sundress. Your boss yelled at you. And you lost your phone.

Nothing seems to ruin your mood. You are still laughing and joking with your neighbor.

“I should just go over there and kill them both. Less headache for me – a house and a car for my client,” Lloyd is tempted to get his gun and silencer out to shoot you and your neighbor. “Maybe later. I need to unlock her phone first…”

Lloyd rolls his eyes while scrolling through your phone. There are mostly pictures of bees, flowers, and cake on your phone. No interesting or naughty stuff.

“This woman can’t be real. She buys sweets for the librarian; cooks soup for her sick neighbor and has a fucking insect hotel on her veranda. She’s crazy…this must be it.”

He nods to himself. “I need to find out more about her. Maybe some files are password-protected. I know she’s hiding shit from me.”

“Boss, it’s two weeks,” one of Lloyd’s men dares to say. “He didn’t pay.” The man clears his throat. “The woman is still alive too. What is your plan?”

“I need to find out more about her,” Lloyd grunts. He doesn’t need one of his bootlickers to sniff around and find out Lloyd is following you because he’s fascinated and a little grossed out by your bubbly personality.

Your friendliness is hard to stomach, and he wants to find at least one thing you try to hide before he kills you.

“Boss, he didn’t pay,” the man insists. “We don’t work for free. That’s rule number—” A gunshot ends the man’s life.

“Rule number four is to never doubt me and my decisions,” Lloyd sneers at the dead man on the ground. He snaps his fingers at one of the others. “Clean this up. I got a job to do.”

“Boss…” the man nods and goes to work.

“And bring me her boyfriend. He broke our contract and didn’t pay me a single buck. I want to know why he believes he can fuck with Lloyd fucking Hansen.”

“What are you doing at my house?” You take a step back. A stranger is standing in your living room, a gun with a silencer aimed at your head. “Oh…Tommie.” You shake your head and sigh. “He’s such an unhappy man.”

Lloyd cocks a brow at your reaction. You don’t scream or beg. Instead, you are concerned about your ex-boyfriend.

“He doesn’t have the money to pay me back for the house and car,” you conclude and nod to yourself. “But he has the money to pay you?”

You take a step toward Lloyd, taking him by surprise. He backpaddles and aims his gun back at you.

“You don’t look like a guy he found on the street and paid him twenty bucks. You look like a…” You tilt your head to look the man in front of you up and down, “professional.”

“Sorry, but you got to go…” He murmurs, wondering a little about his words. It’s the first time he said more to a target than hello and goodbye.

“Uh-okay,” you wring your hands. “I just ordered takeout. Can I eat it before you kill me?” You cock a brow. “You know, the whole last meal thing and stuff. I got dessert too. Please don’t let me die hungry.”

Lloyd is stunned. No target ever accepted their fate without fighting back. Most of them at least begged and pleaded or offered more money.

“You can have some dessert too,” you softly say. “I guess in your line of business you don’t often get invited.” You giggle. “You know, because you kill all of your clients.”

“I don’t kill my clients,” he sighs. “Fine, have your last meal. You are giving me a fucking headache, sunshine.”

“Aw, that’s a cute nickname,” you point out. “Do you call your girlfriend that too?” You ask while walking past Lloyd. “I’m going to eat now. Please don’t shoot me before I finish my meal.”

“Just shut up,” he grunts and follows you inside the kitchen. “Why are you not screaming or throwing a tantrum?”

You shrug. “We all must die one day. Right?” Watching Lloyd, you smile. “Please don’t shoot me in the face. Someone must identify me, and I don’t want them to see me like that.”

“You always think about others first.”

He watches you prepare two plates of food. You watch him watching you. He cocks a brow, believing you will try to trick him. “It’s not poisoned. I’ll eat it too.”

“Do you want to sort things out first?”

“I got everything sorted out,” you smile. “I’m just worried about my neighbor and the stray cat I feed. They are both old and need help.”

Lloyd shakes his head. “You must be crazy thinking about others while a stranger threatens to kill you.”

“I thought you wanted to kill me, not just threaten me,” you round the counter to place a plate close to him. “I didn’t take you for someone making empty promises.” You run your fingertips over the hand holding the gun and smile. “Right. Mr.…?”

“Lloyd,” he says and drops his eyes to your finger running over his hand. “Are you flirting with me?”

You look him straight in the eyes and smile. “Why would I flirt with my executioner?”

Gun for hire (2)

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #Gun for hire (1)#x reader

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 1 year ago

Text

Dishes

sanji x reader

a/n: fluff. UNEDITED.

summary: sanji and you having an unspoken connection but whose going to confess first?

The Sunny sailed through the night as Sanji placed several plates of food down onto the table; he laid out portions for each crew member and made sure everything was perfect before calling everyone down for dinner. Luffy, unsurprisingly, was the first to enter the kitchen followed by Chopper and Usopp. The cook watched the door behind where Luffy sat, the captain already digging into his food. Sanji’s eyes softened as you walked in alongside Zoro – the latter laughing at something you said. The fact that you could make the idiot swordsman laugh warmed Sanji’s heart, fluttering as your gaze met his. He turned beet red but immediately pulled out the chair next to Chopper and you thanked him.

“This looks so delicious,” you sighed contently, looking up to where Sanji stood over you. His eyes smiled when you reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Mr. Prince.”

He chuckled at the nickname and mentioned a second plate he had put away for you. “You know how Luffy is, let me know if you want it.”

You watched for a moment as he started making sure everyone was settled before Robin pulled you into a conversation about a book, she wanted you to read. The two of you talked quietly amongst each other while everyone else chatted and ate. The food, as always, was divine and Zoro had passed around a bottle of sake. From across the table, Sanji sat between Luffy and Franky, but his eyes were on you. Amused by the way your expressions you were making as Robin was speaking, Sanji could only smile. He wasn’t hungry much and casually slipped his plate to Luffy, heart stopping when you noticed the gesture and gave him a small, sweet beam. His entire body went warm, cheeks pink and he felt like he could split an entire ship in two with his foot.

“Where’s your head at, Sanji?”

Frankly nudged the man and he looked away from you, taking out a cigarette from his pocket. He lit the smoke and looked at his friend. “Sorry, just have a lot on my mind.”

“Oh, I think I know what you have on your mind,” Franky whispered, giving a little laugh. “You two crazy kids.”

Sanji said nothing but got up from his seat. Everyone but Luffy was finished with their meal, so he began to pick up the empty plates. Immediately, you got up and started to help even when he asked you not to. Ignoring him, you gathered a handful of plates and went to the sink while everyone else started to pile out of the kitchen. Zoro stuck around with Luffy, waiting for him to finish eating as he nursed more alcohol.

“Those two could out drink and eat anyone.”

Sanji moved next to you at the sink and placed the stack of dishes down, gently moving you aside so he could start washing the dishes. You laughed when he gave you a pointed smile and said how he didn’t want your fingers getting prune-y. “I know Nami just did your nails.”

“You are very thoughtful.” Holding up your hands, you asked if he liked the shade of color. “I’ve never used blue, but it reminded me of…well, anyways – what do you think?”

He grinned; hands deep into the water. “Any color looks good on you, but that blue – that blue is what I imagine the All Blue to look like.”

“Good.”

That’s all you could manage, so you proceeded to hip check the cook and took over the dishes. He frowned but you told him too bad. “You spent so much time cooking for us, the least I can do is wash the damn dishes. Got it?”

The demanding tone of your voice sparked a flame in Sanji’s heart, and he listened, asking if you’d like some coffee. “I can put the kettle on.”

You said yes and continued the task of the dishes, eyes wandering over to the table where Zoro and Luffy resided. The green haired man smirked in your direction as Sanji put the kettle on and then went to the table to finish picking up. Giving Zoro a quick shake of the head, you knew the teasing spark in his eyes and wanted nothing more than to shut him up with a fat dinner roll. He was the only one who knew about your feelings for the cook, and it had become a long running joke to him – any opportunity he would give you a hard time. Zoro grinned and you wanted to throw the wet dish in your hand at him, giving him a sharp look, which made him roar with laughter and you smile. Sanji, witnessing the exchange, frowned.

Had he been wrong? The signs – the looks, the smiles. Was it all in his head?

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe and the cigarette in his mouth tasted bitter.

Was there something going on between Mosshead and you?

The thought brought a pain in his chest, and he needed air – desperately. Excusing himself, he fled the kitchen through the door that led to the deck, and you watched hopelessly. Eyeing Zoro, he shrugged, and you rinsed off the soap. Drying your hands on a nearby kitchen rag, you pointed a finger at Zoro.

“Finish those dishes.”

He protested but you didn’t respond, heading out to find Sanji. The air was cool, the moon high above the ocean water. The ship swayed as you walked across the deck, spotting Sanji leaning out against the railing to the right of Nami’s trees. He looked pristine in his button up white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Profile delicate and handsome, a true Prince if you have ever seen one. He stared out to the sea, only turning when he heard your boots against the deck. He straightened up and asked if there was something you needed - the warmth from his eyes gone.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, did you want me to go make that coffee for you?”

Confusion held your tongue and Sanji pushed away from the railing, starting back toward the kitchen. He wasn’t cold but something was off with him, and you grabbed hold of his elbow. Sanji stopped but didn’t turn to face you. Instead, his head turned, giving you a perfect view of his profile – again, so devastatingly gorgeous.

“Out of curiosity, something going on between Mosshead and you?”

Laugh. That was all you could do at the mere notion of Zoro and you being anything other than friends, great friends. “He’s like my brother, Sanji. You know that don’t you?”

“I guess so.”

He attempted to walk away but you held it tight. A million thoughts ran through your head, desperate, anxious thoughts. Were you misreading all the looks? Smiles across the room? God, where you that dense! Maybe it was all wrong, maybe he didn’t feel the way you did. Now you were embarrassed but there was something far worse than embarrassment – not knowing. That would be unbearable.

“Don’t walk away from me, please,” you whispered, releasing your grip on him. Your shaky voice prompted Sanji to finally turn, and he nearly gasped at the tears in your eyes. Any somber feelings he had for himself vanished as he stepped forward to wipe away tears with his thumb. Your hands moved around his wrists, forcing him to look at you. “I love you, Sanji. I have for a while now and I thought…. I thought there would be a chance that you’d feel the same. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable and if you don’t feel the same, please can we still be friends?”

Pure relief.

That was all Sanji could feel as the warmth of your fingers around his wrist comforted him against the cool night breeze. His heart pounded as his eyes bore into yours and he never felt happier in his life. He smiled softly and let out a low breath, kicking himself internally for ever making you feel any sort of sadness.

“I’m sorry for making you cry; it will never happen again.” He slipped from your grip and gently held your face, thumb caressing your cheek. “I will always be your friend, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you more than I thought I could love anyone. I love you so much I was willingly to put aside my feelings when I thought Zoro and you were…”

“Never,” you chuckled, happy tears running down your face. Sanji grinned and begged you to stop crying. Nodding, you slipped both arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. He captured it with eyes closed and pulled you closer to him. His lips were soft, he tasted like cigarettes but that was to be expected and you could care less. Nothing mattered now that you were in Sanji’s arms, safe and warm. Loved and at ease. It felt ecstatic, electric – it felt like you were finally where you truly belonged.

Sanji pulled away and kissed you on the forehead, arms holding you tight. “So, you still want that coffee?”

“Yes, please,” you whispered into his chest. He reached up and caresses your hair, giving you another peck on the forehead before reaching down for your hand.

“Come one, I’ll make you a cup and you can keep me company while I finish up the dishes.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the dishes,” you cooed, dipping your head back to look up at Sanji. His eyes were soft again, loving. “Zoro’s finishing them up.”

The mere thought made the cook laugh and you joined in, allowing him to guide you toward the kitchen. He held your hand gingerly and grinned. “I can’t wait to see that Mosshead doing all the dishes.”

.....................

OP tags:

@stuckinthewrongworld

@slytherinambitious

#sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece

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sirianasims · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #samara davies #miranda villanueva

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emlovessid · 6 months ago

Note

I’m so sorry I’m late to the party, but I have a prompt for you, if you’re still interested.

Sirius talking to James about how much he likes Remus and everything he wants Remus to do to him, sexual and otherwise, and Remus overhearing and just being like :o and trying to act normal around him the next time they talk, especially without tipping Sirius off that he heard. Of course, he fails miserably.

This is incredibly similar to an ask I’ve sent in on another blog and I’m sorry for that, but in my defence this scenario plays over and over in my head 24/7 and there’s so many ways it can go.

hi love! you are so fine, sorry it took me so long to get around to this one haha. hope you enjoy <33

“—and I’m losing my mind, James. How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

Remus freezes where his hand was about to push open James’ door to ask him if he needs anything from the supermarket, fingers hovering just over the door handle when he realises he’s about to interrupt clearly a very important conversation. Taking a step back, he’s ready to retreat down the hall when Sirius starts speaking again.

“With being in love,” Sirius sighs. “I thought when people described love as this all-consuming thing they were just exaggerating, but god, they were not exaggerating. If anything, they were under-exaggerating. How does anyone get anything done?”

Remus knows that he should walk away, knows that he most definitely should not be eavesdropping on this coversation right now, but his heart is stuck in his throat as he tries to wrap his head around the fact that Sirius is apparently in love?

Without giving James a chance to answer, Sirius is rambling again, and Remus can almost imagine his manic eyes and his arms waving about as he says, “It’s literally all I can think about, all day. And then I go to bed and I fucking dream about it, about him, about him and his stupid face and his stupid smile and how much I want to just stick my tongue down his fucking throat.”

It’s with a shaky breath and a sting behind his eyes that Remus finally manages to start moving back towards the kitchen, but then the whole world comes to a shuddering stop when James groans, “I don’t need to know about how much you want to stick your tongue down Moony’s throat.”

Moony? Moony?! Sirius wants to stick his tongue down his throat?!! There’s no way—

“It’s not just that. I mean, yeah, obviously I want to snog him, and have him fuck me so hard into my mattress that I can barely walk the next day—” Remus can barely hear James’ complaints over the sound of his own heart beating thunderously in his ears, “—but I also want to just, walk down the street holding his hand and run my fingers through his hair while he’s reading a book and wake up next to him in the morning.”

Remus actually pinches himself on the wrist then, sure that he must be dreaming, because in what universe are his months of pining actually reciprocated?

“That’s great. And I hope you get all that, I really do. But in order to get that you actually have to tell him you—” Remus leaves midway through James’ sentence, his feet finally catching up with his mind and hurrying back down the hall, grabbing a reusable bag and his keys on his way out the front door.

—

By the time he makes it back from the supermarket, he’s successfully pushed down all thoughts of what he overheard to the deepest depths of his mind, piling on top of it his shopping list and the recipe for tonight’s dinner and what clothes he needs to put in the wash later. That is, until, he walks back inside and finds Sirius leaning against the kitchen counter, jar of peanut butter in one hand as he grins at Remus around a spoon.

“There you are!” Sirius cheers, and with just a look and a smile, all of that pushing down was for naught.

“I want that too,” Remus blurts.

“The peanut butter? Sure, let me grab you another spoon,” Sirius says with a shrug, reaching for the drawer behind him before Remus’ hand on his wrist stops him, his eyes wide and searching as they meet Remus’.

“Not the peanut butter,” Remus sighs, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I want – I want to hold hands and feel your fingers in my hair and have your face be the first thing I see in the morning.”

Sirius’ voice is barely a whisper when he says, “Oh.”

Taking a step closer until he’s practically caging Sirius in against the counter, Remus continues, “And I would like nothing more than to stick my tongue down your throat—”

“Oh.”

“—and fuck you into your mattr—”

Sirius doesn’t give him a chance to finish, surging up and capturing Remus’ lips with his own, the taste of peanut butter on his tongue as he licks into Remus’ mouth, but it’s everything Remus had hoped for and more.

follower appreciation – drop me a prompt <3

#i'm obsessed with them #my favourite pining idiots <3 #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #marauders #sometimes i write things #replies

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 10 months ago

Text

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 13

Glorious Magnificent Goddess | Loki x Reader

You and Loki retreat to his hideaway to recouperate after your run in with Lugh. Loki helps you practice your magic again as well as rewarding you for your bravery. But how far can you really escape a God?

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, lots of praise, possessive Loki, making out, teasing, oral ( f receiving), p in v, cockwarming (if you squint), dirty talk but also…angst, emotional hurt/comfort.

A/N: This is mostly smut but there's definitely some plot there too. Please don't judge me for my terrible prophecy writing.

Also this chapter wouldn't have been written with nearly so much smut in it if I hadn't been so sexually frustrated reading @lokisgoodgirl 's The Lakes series. There's no little Tesco here and we're far from The Lakes but this chapter is dedicated to you :)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

—

Somewhere between your sheer terror of being kidnapped and Loki’s sweeping rescue of you from the floor, you’d passed out. When you woke you were lying on a sofa in front of a roaring fire, the logs crackling merrily in time with the soft low hum of Loki’s voice.

You turned your head to see him moving deftly around a small kitchen, pouring steaming soup into a bowl while he sang quietly. At first you didn’t recognise the words, but the more you listened and allowed the song to wash over you, the more you understood. He sang of home, of love and comfort, songs that spoke to the very bones of you until you melted into the cushions and blankets, at peace. Somewhere deep down your memories hummed back, even if you couldn’t remember the words yet.

He turned, still singing the last of the tune, and smiled gently. In the firelight he looked shockingly ethereal compared to his domestic surroundings, his hair glossy and dark, tumbling about his shoulders in almost cherubic curls. The shirt he’d worn under his suit was now only loosely tucked into his trousers, the collar undone and his sleeves rolled up just past his elbows.

“You’re awake,” he knelt next to you, cupping your face in his hands and drawing you close, kissing you so tenderly you thought you might still be asleep, dreaming of being awoken by Prince Charming.

“Was I dreaming? We went on that stupid mission and it was awful -” you scrunched your face the memory. “Do you think it’s always that chaotic?”

“It wasn’t a dream, Darling, unfortunately. We were intercepted by someone.”

It came rushing back, the man’s hands grabbing at you, the blinding light he seemed to be able to control and the spear he wielded. But then, you’d had a spear too, and armour, silver and velvet and flame. You looked down at your clothes, the armour was gone and in its place was one of Loki’s soft cotton shirts.

“I knew him, I think. I saw a memory with him in, and my mother, they were friends. He said his name was Lugh and we were in his home, it was snowing - But I was younger then. And I saw one of the men who - who -”

Loki placed a steadying hand on your arm, remaining by your side, his eyes darting over your face and searching for any trace of pain or suffering. “Hush, darling, let’s not talk of it now. You’ve had a trying time, rest and we can talk of it in the morning.

“But I’ve seen him before, Loki, I have and-” You sighed, falling back on the sofa. “I wish I could just remember.”

Loki kissed your cheek and moved back to the kitchen, “well, this Lugh, he frightened you and I will not tolerate that. Here, I made you soup, you should eat and get some strength back.” He placed the tray on an oak coffee table and piled cushions onto the floor for you to sit on.

Sliding down onto the nest of pillows, you allowed yourself to look around the room, it was small but cosy, furnished with solid oak and thick, luxurious fabrics in velvet, knits and heavy wool plaid. Large cushions backed the sofa and chairs while the walls were lined with books old and new.

“Where are we?” You asked, blowing on the warm soup before taking a small sip from your spoon.

“A secret place, a cabin. We’re still in America, if that’s what you were wondering. Those ridiculous spangled idiots showed up and blew our cover so I needed to retreat quickly. I can teleport, but not very far, and this was the nearest place I could drive to after we were far enough away.” Loki said, matter of factly, before joining you on the floor and dunking a thick crust of bread into your soup.

“Hey, that’s mine,” you reached a foot out to kick him gently and he laughed, pulling it into his lap.

“Share, Ásynja , don’t be selfish,” he smiled, dipping again but offering you the bread between his fingers.

“I didn’t know you lived anywhere else.” You’d always imagined that when he wasn’t at the compound Loki retreated to some icy fortress covered in black and green furnishings. Something dramatic and luxurious, you certainly hadn’t imagined a cosy log cabin.

“I like to have a few retreats, a few bolt holes here and there. Plus Brunnhilde uses them from time to time when she’s on official business, hotels aren’t really her style, she prefers to deplete my stores of whisky and mead.” Loki didn’t look upset though, he seemed pleased to be able to offer somewhere comfortable and inviting.

“I would’ve thought showing off in the lap of luxury would be right up your street.” You teased, Loki liked the finer things in life and there was no way you were complaining when he extended such luxuries to you too. But there was something so satisfying about teasing the god of Mischief.

“Oh, yes, it is,” his smile morphed from playful into predatory, his voice dropping an octave into that rough rumble that made you melt, “but it’s the privacy we enjoy. We’re in the middle of nowhere, my Darling-”

“And no one can hear me scream?” You joked, raising your eyebrows.

“Exactly.” He tugged on your leg again, before reaching forwards and pulling you into his lap. Beneath the wool slacks he was already hard, the firm length of him straining against the zip. His shirt was loose on you, rucked up around your waist to accommodate your spread legs and you were mercifully bare beneath.

“Loki,” you breathed, pressing yourself down into his embrace, moulding your bodies together. Between your thighs he throbbed, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, reigniting your adrenaline.

Loki’s large hands slid up your back, one splayed wide cupping your waist, the other on the back of your neck, tipping your head down so he could growl against your lips, “I love when you say my name,” he nipped at your bottom lip and you kissed back, sucking his tongue into your mouth like you were ravenous. “My Ásynja , take what you need my darling, I am yours, at your mercy, my breathtaking Goddess.”

Together you fell backwards onto the rug, Loki breaking your fall and gently laying you down beside him. His hands ghosted down your side, barely touching you while his magic melted your clothes away leaving you both glowing in the firelight.

“You were magnificent tonight, a true goddess of the Aesir, I -” His hands fluttered over you, his eyes trying to take you all in at once.

You had never seen Loki lost for words before and it was a glorious feeling, knowing that you had reduced him to this.

“I have to have you, darling, can’t keep my hands from you.” He growled, touching every inch of your bared skin.

“I couldn’t have done it without you though, Loki.” You assured him, kissing along his broad shoulders, inhaling the rich scent of him, so close.

“Ah, my darling one, I did nothing.” He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feel of you, each kiss like a butterfly's wings brushing against his skin.

“Wait-” You sat up, “you didn’t do anything?”

“No, did you think I had some part to play?” He looked at you quizzically, “you think I conjured a burning spear? Silver armour?”

“Well - I -” He curled an eyebrow at you, encouraging you to complete your thought. “I did that? That was me?”

“Of course” he laughed out the words, surprised that you weren’t already aware.

“Well. Okay.” You lay back on the rug and stared at the ceiling, unabashed in your nakedness, and Loki fought the urge to simply climb on top of you.

“Hmmm, indeed.” Instead he traced his finger over your sternum and between your breasts, down to your belly button and then over your hip. Tingling goosebumps erupted in his wake and you watched as he skipped from your hip to where the bracelet he gave you still circled your wrist. “Besides, if I had created armour for you, it would be in green and gold.” He murmured, bending to place a kiss on the delicate skin below the bracelet.

“Would it now, have you thought of how you’d dress me for battle?” Now it was your turn to lift an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t you show me how you’d prepare me for battle.”

Loki gave you a predator’s smile before pulling you closer. “Too many clothes required for battle, darling, how about we practise the celebration instead?”

As you drifted in and out of sleep the memory of Loki’s hands on you followed your sleeping thoughts, his hands spread wide on your thighs, squeezing and kneading while he feasted on you, his body supplicant before you, worshipping as he’d promised. You writhed, rolling closer to him and hooking your leg over his. There was still a deep ache within you, a roiling of your magic needing release and bubbling to the surface in your whimpers and bucking hips.

Loki stirred beside you and pulled you closer, your naked body was bed warm and soft compared to his perpetually cooler constitution and it felt good to be thawed by your presence. He cupped your cheek, turning your sleeping face so he could look over your features. There was still a tendency for your eye colour to shift without you realising, but everything else had settled and now every time he looked at you the same beautiful face shone back.

He kissed you on your forehead, revelling in the gentle smile that spread across your lips, he kissed your cheek and nose, moving across your face until your eyelashes fluttered and you snuggled closer, fingers digging into his sides. Slowly, so slowly, he moved down your neck, pressing kisses onto your collarbone and nuzzling into the swell of your breast, he laved wet kisses onto your nipples, blowing cold air over the sensitive flesh just to watch them pebble and tighten before him.

Loki’s kisses were featherlight, meltingly soft but you needed more, craved more. Light flared within you and, behind the grate, the fire crackled in response, burning blue and filling the room with light.

He lifted his head watching you with lust blown eyes.

“Incredible, my darling goddess, do it again,” he encouraged, kissing lower until he could nip at your soft belly, his thumbs pressing into your hips to stop you from lifting upwards. “Do it again and I’ll give you anything you want, name your price.”

“I can’t,” you whined, giving up on struggling in favour of looping your leg over his muscular shoulder.

“You can,” he traced his nose lower, lower, the point of his tongue guiding him until he hovered over your aching core. “You can do it, Ásynja , you are powerful and strong, you control the fire, you control the light, show me, make me tremble before you.” His words were a whisper, a prayer, his eyes locked with yours despite the lewd poke of his tongue from between his pink lips.

Frustrated you dropped your head back onto the rug and the fire roared again, the candles dotted around the room flickered. Between your legs Loki smiled again, murmuring something in the same old norse language that you were still trying to remember. But it was hard to care what he was saying when he was teasing you so deliciously, his tongue writing every sinful thing he wanted to do.

“Please, Loki.” You hummed, tugging on the long strands of his silky hair in an effort to move him.

“A moment more, my darling one.” He cooed, sucking on the inside of your thigh while his fingers entered you slowly, curling into your fluttering walls.

“You promised me anything,” you gasped, heat pooling between your legs, Loki marvelled as your arousal slicked down his fingers.

“I did, and what does my most wonderful Goddess require of me?” He asked, his voice hoarse with lust.

“Fuck me, Loki- ugh,” he felt you clench around him, so soft yet so strong, and he knew he needed to have you just as much. “Fuck me like you mean it, I’m your Goddess, yours, take me, worship me, and make me yours.” You reached down and squeezed his hard cock as you spoke, watching his mouth fall open at the pressure.

With a growl, Loki prowled up your prone body, hooking your leg around his waist as he settled over you. All you could see was the curtain of his hair, the sharp lines of his face and his glittering eyes. The swell of his cock between your legs was hot and heavy, a tease of what was to come. It felt like it had been so long since you were alone together that you were desperate, clawing, inching your hips up until he was notched at your entrance, waiting.

“Please,” you begged, breathlessly and he slid home in a single thrust, filling you to the brim and binding you together. “Oh! Loki!”

“Yes, that’s it my darling,” he began to thrust, rolling his hips to rub against your clit with every movement. “Say my name.”

“Loki, Loki, Loki.” His name became a chant in time with each thrust. “I’m yours, oh my god, never let me go.” You buried your face in his neck, sucking a bruise into the delicate skin as he ground against you, locked together so tightly he could barely pull back before you were bringing him closer again.

“Never, I’ll never let you go, you’re mine now. All mine,” he panted, the feel of your lips and teeth a blissful pain, “and I’m yours, all yours.” The flames roared, their reflection catching in the glass of the lamps artfully dotted around the room, painting the walls in jewelled colours, emerald, sapphire and ruby red.

He sat back, pulling you into his lap so he could kiss your chest and hold you closer. You moved together, riding towards your release as if you were charging into battle, never close enough, never fast enough, chasing your pleasure while Loki looked at you in awe.

With a final roar he buried himself inside of you and the banked fire of your desire burst forth consuming you both. In the fireplace the flames licked out onto the hearth, the candles flared and blue flames encircled you both.

Loki pulled away, his eyes tracing over your face as he always did, checking that you were happy and safe and smiling giddily as he was. And then he saw the flames, swirling like ribbons in the wind.

Guiltily you tried to pull away, but he held you firm, still deep inside of you and as he caught your gaze again you felt him throb against your sensitive walls, “magnificent,” he murmured, before tipping you back against the carpet and continuing his worship.

The morning came too soon, the mist that danced between the trees faded as it got closer to the cabin windows and you let out a puff of hot air against the pane. You set your cup of coffee on the side and drew a heart in the condensation, smiling as it turned green and gold as the rising sun beyond touched the tops of the pine trees in the valley.

On silent feet, Loki crept up on you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder where your shirt slipped away from your collar. Here he planted a wet kiss, squeezing you tighter when you giggled from the sensation. Between you both, you wondered if you’d ever have need to go clothes shopping again. With a flick of his wrist Loki had sent his suit into oblivion and had manifested a surprisingly sensible pair of dark jeans and a sweater. To his own surprise, try as he might, he couldn’t make it green and instead the fibres continued to insist on a rich, dark blue colour instead.

“Loki,” you chided, but you didn’t push him away, your body sought him at all times, reaching for his touch, so you allowed him to set his feet between yours and settled his hands on your hips.

“Darling, we should talk about what happened, now that we’ve had time to rest.”

Loki led you both out to a small covered porch at the back of the cabin, it’d been too dark to see your surroundings when you arrived but now you could see over through the trees to an open vista. A lake took up the majority of the valley, tailing away into a rushing river at its furthest point. Both sides of the valley were covered in dense trees, golden brown patches in the late autumn and dark green pines knitting together the amber canopy, the mist still rose from them while you settled into an old swing chair. The view was incredible, stealing your breath and your words as Loki settled beside you.

“It reminded me of Norway,” he said, casually, “and so I had to have it. Especially as things became so -” he waves his hand, “messy, in Asgard.”

“It’s beautiful, I could stay here forever.”

“As could I, darling, but we must address what happened. This isn’t the first time you’ve been attacked and I grow concerned it could happen again.” Loki was rarely so serious, even in the early days of your training he had been playful and coy, teasing your abilities from you.

You sat in silence, sipping your coffees while you thought of how to proceed.

“So, I suppose we start with the obvious, we know one of the players in this game now,” Loki said, decisively. “Lugh, it is not a pantheon I know well, though my father was always respectful and my mother knew various members. Though it is possible when my memories were taken, I forgot about other gods as well.”

“I suppose... I don’t know why he’d pretend to care now when he had me happily locked away like some fairytale princess.” You huffed.

“He mentioned your mother? That they were friends? With your mother gone, we could assume he is trying to act on her behalf, protect you as she would.I know my father often behaved in such a manner, keeping secrets when he ought to have told the truth, and then calling it protection, kindness.”

“Do you think - do you think he was the one who kept me locked up as well? Despite it all he didn’t seem like he wanted to be violent, I can’t understand how anyone working for him would be violent when he could have killed us both there and then. And then there’s the boy.”

Loki looked at you, his head tipped to the side. “The boy?” You had mentioned the boy earlier as well, but he had thought you were simply delirious.

“When he touched me, Lugh, I saw a memory of us together. My mother and I were at his house, he was kind and gentle. He encouraged me to go outside and play with a boy, it seemed like I was - happy?” You stared into the trees, hoping some clarity would emerge inside you to stop the churning feeling in your stomach.

“I learnt a lot from my father and one of the most important lessons he ever gave me, well, I don’t believe he intended to teach this as a lesson. But I learnt to never trust his mood. One minute he would love me and call me son, the next he would send me away for decades at a time. I would counsel against trusting Lugh, if he’s lived as long as Odin, the time has eaten away at what’s left of his sanity and I don’t doubt he would be kind to you in one moment and lock you up in the next.” Loki shrugged, melancholy at the memory of Odin, and then took a long drink from his mug.

You looked over to see a sad smile tugging at his lips, as if making fun of Odin was easier than the honesty of his statement.

“Perhaps - but, I recognised his eyes, the boy. I saw him again, he came for me. After I got away from those Asgardian’s, he tried to get me to go with him and I refused. He told me to stop using my magic, just as Lugh did, and then I was taken again by - hmmm.”

“If he warned you against the magic and then you were taken again, perhaps it was not Lugh who kidnapped you.” Loki raised his eyebrows and you nodded, silent and contemplative, already wondering the same. “Perhaps he really was trying to protect you?” Loki still hadn’t told you about the sigil he’d seen, about how he knew who your last captors were. How would he explain to you that your betrothed was out to find you? He had no memory of that war between the Aesir and the Vanir, how could he spoil what was growing between you with a fear like that.

“Perhaps. I just wish there was something in my past I could trust and believe in.”

He felt sick lying to you, even if it was by omission.. Loki had promised himself that he would protect you and he would, for now you needed comfort and peace more than you needed the truth.

You lapsed into silence, finishing your coffee and setting it onto the wooden porch floor. The quiet washed over you, the sound of the water and the rustling trees, even the calls of the birds felt perfectly placed to put you at ease.

After a while, Loki spoke again, quiet and low with that same serious voice that was so unfamiliar. “I still loved him, Odin, though he kept many things from me. Just because things are confusing now, doesn’t mean your happier times are forgotten. You used to speak of your Grandfather and now - well - there has been no mention of him for some time. You are allowed to miss him, and your life before this. It is no slight against me for you to have enjoyed happier times with others. I only wish for you to be happy again now.”

Emotion welled within you, “I do still think of him. I miss him so much, even if - I know, I know he wasn’t real. But he was real for me. He was kind.” You stuttered, reaching out for Loki’s hand to ground you.

“I’m glad.” Loki squeezed back, tangling your fingers together and he held you as you cried “ I think we should consider going back to Tønsberg , to show Brunnhilde what you saw. Perhaps she has some more answers, now that there has been time to think.”

“I thought we were supposed to rendevouz with the team again?” You sniffed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “won’t they be looking for us when we didn’t meet to swap cars?”

“Well that’s what we were supposed to do, but they’ve got their item now, I thought we could enjoy some time together here and then, when you’re ready, I shall take you home.” Loki put his arm over your shoulders and held you against his side, the deep scent of amber still lingered on him, mixed with the crisp, clean, scent of pine. You tucked your feet up onto the seat, leaning your weight into his warm, strong body and allowed yourself a moment of peace to think of it, a home for you and Loki.

You hadn’t felt as safe and secure since you first left your flat, any time the God was in your presence you felt at peace, content with the world and your place in it. Loki was right, you needed some time together, and practising your fire skills was exactly the kind of cosy activity the glowing hillside and crisp air required.

You whiled away a few more hours, snuggled together in the early winter air, Loki created a small green fire that glowed in front of you while you practised sending blue sparks dancing around the edge.

Inside the cabin the fire smouldered, warm and inviting. Wood stacked by the fireplace shuddered and a single log rolled off onto the floor surrounded in white light.

Distracted outside neither you nor Loki watched the divine woodwork taking place inside as the log slowly became smaller and smaller, leaving chips of wood in it’s wake. Finally, after an hour of craftsmanship, the light faded and left behind a small wooden box. It grew hot, as it sat before the fire and opened, revealing a misty mirror inside, and a swatch of delicate lace wrapped around a glass sphere.

The lace unravelled, allowing the marble to roll away from its container, bumping against the back of the sofa and coming to a stop before the fire, heating up and then cracking, releasing the secret inside.

A soft voice escaped, “I saw a vision of a flock divided, a tup of pure chaos and a ewe of love, a ram standing watch, a singular lamb frolicking, a lamb with a fiery fleece. It has burnt the farm. But from the ashes rises lush land, strong crops and healthy babes. I have told this vision to my husband, and Lugh, he does not believe me when I say she is no threat, he believes this to be a prophecy of Ragnarok, he cannot see the verdant land beyond the fire. You must hide the girl, my friend, I can protect her no longer.”

Frigga’s voice, lost to the mortality that even the seemingly infinite possess, faded into the quiet of the cabin.

And outside your chatter continued obliviously, happy and full of love.

<< Part 12

Part 14>>

#Loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki/reader #Loki x Reader #Loki fanfic #Loki series #loki marvel #Loki x you #Loki/You #loki fanfiction #Loki smut #The Old Gods and the New

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blizzardfluffykpop · 7 months ago

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Love Letter

Summary: There’s only one thing you love more than the library, it’s the owner’s son.

Oneshot

Fluff, Non-idol au

Possible Warning?: Slight height difference

Word Count: 2,395

Juyeon X Reader

[A/n: I’m currently so soft from this… Anyways, @jinkoh thanks for rotting with me 🥰]

------

If there’s one place in your life that’s remained consistent, it would be the library. You've been going to it since you were five. While you've traveled the world, you'd always return to it because it always felt like a home away from home. While the books on the shelves were ever-changing, it always felt the same. From the warm browns of the shelving to the sage green carpets to the enormous piles of books all waiting to be shelved. Everything felt like it had its place, even if it wasn’t in the correct spot. The books that made it to the shelves were always tightly packed in. But you knew where all your favorites hid.

The best spot in the library was your reading nook. In the furthest corner, near the staircase, was a chestnut table and a lamp in front of a soft armchair where you curled up to read. Like clockwork, by the time you were in the middle of a book, Mr. Lee would check up on you. He'd always bring you something to drink while you read. Or if you were hungry. He’d grab you a snack from upstairs. When you were younger, you used to worry, “What if I spill something on the pages?!” He’d shrug and go, “Well, don’t.” And you’d both laugh before he set your tea down next to you before going back to organizing the ever-growing piles.

There were so many things you enjoyed about the library. The list was never-ending. And at the top of the list was Lee Juyeon, Mr. Lee’s son. While you were in school, you used to see him a lot more often. You both would head to the library for different reasons, walking together and conversing before he headed upstairs to their living area. While you stayed downstairs, either studying or reading a new book before heading home. Sometimes he’d come downstairs to talk to his dad, and you’d secretly look over at him past the pages. And on the lucky occasions, you’d end up studying together for exams you shared.

But since you’ve both gone your separate ways, you haven’t seen him since. It bummed you out every time you’d go in, hoping he’d come down the stairs only to finish your book without a sight of him. But now, when Mr. Lee would give you tea, he’d tell you life updates about Juyeon, keeping you up-to-date about him before asking you what you were up to with all your travels. You’d happily tell him before he’d let you get back to your reading. You’re sure he’d love to hear about your latest adventure, just like you can’t wait to hear about how Juyeon's been.

As you walk to the library, you can’t help but feel excited to see it’s the same as you left it. You chime as you walk in, “Good morning, Mr. Lee!” Expecting to see the friendly man behind the counter. But instead, you see Juyeon standing behind the counter. He awkwardly smiles, “Hey, (Y/n).” And you blink at him, not expecting to see him the slightest, “Juyeon?” And he scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah.” You ask, “What are you doing behind the counter?” He looks over the store before making eye contact with you again, “I own the shop now…” Your eyes widen, “Is Mr. Lee okay?!” He laughs, “Yeah, Dad’s fine. He and Mom are traveling the world now and left it in my hands.” You sigh in relief, “Ah, okay. Well, it’s nice to see you again.” He gives you a small smile, “Same here.” You look behind your shoulder over at the packed shelves, “I’m going to find some stories to read.” He nods, and you walk away, searching for something that catches your eye. When you spot the new title you’ve meant to read after asking Mr. Lee to order it, you take it off the shelf before heading to your reading nook.

It’s been about an hour when you hear something rustling beside you. You peek up and see Juyeon coming down the stairs. You smile at him, and he comes over. “I remember Dad always doing this for you, so I thought I’d um…” You see the teacup and saucer in his hand, and you grin as you take it from him, “Thank you! Sure you’re not worried about me spilling it all over the book?” He shrugs as he puts his hands in his pockets, “You never have before.” You nod, “You have me there.” He nods before backing away, “Later!” You hum as you go back to reading, calming your heart, “Later.”

You finish your tea and book at the same time. Thankful that Mr. Lee got it in for you before traveling the world with his wife. You get up from your spot and find Juyeon staring absentmindedly in your direction. You shrug, not thinking much of it. He’s probably just trying to pass the hours. You put your book away before collecting your things and heading his way. He smiles at you as you walk up to him with the saucer cup and tell him, “Thank you.” He shrugs, “It’s no problem.” You smile, “It was sweet that you remembered that.” He nods, and you give him one more smile before telling him, “I have to get going, but I’ll see you soon?” He grins, “Yeah, I’ll see you when you come back.” He heads upstairs while you head out the door.

—

It’s been over a week since you’ve last been in, trying to find free time to return. All you wanted to do was kick back and read the rest of your day away. When you walk into the library, you see Juyeon putting books on the top shelf with his sleeves rolled up above his elbows. You silently watch him until the door rattles closed behind you, ruining the moment. He turns around with a big smile on his face. And you smile back, “Good evening, Juyeon!” He smiles, “Good evening, (Y/n).” He turns to put more books away, and you look around for something to read.

Nothing catches your eyes until you see a title you’ve read front to back a hundred times. And unlike before, where it usually was on lower shelves, it’s now on the top shelf. You resist your grumble about someone placing it up there. You do your best to grab at it, hoping not to make much noise to alert Juyeon. And just as you manage to touch it, he comes around, “Woah! Hey, let me get that for you!” You gulp as his chest grazes your back when he reaches over you and grabs the book you were struggling to get. You blush as he moves back and hands it to you, “Here.” You thank him quietly as you take the book, “You used to read this all the time…” You nod, “It’s one of my favorites.” He smiles, “It’s been well loved.” You smile down at the book, “Hopefully, by many.” He looks at it, “Just a few.” “Oh...” He continues, “Just you and I.” “What do you mean?” “I mean… I uh only picked up the book 'cause you read it… And uh Dad keeps a log of what books are read by who...” You look at the shelf, “Is that why it was so high up?” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s a comfortable reach for me.” You laugh, “Of course. Did you enjoy it?” He smiles, “It was a beautiful love story. I see why you read it all the time.” You grin as you look at the weathered spine, “Yeah.” He tilts his head back to his work, “If you need anything else off the higher shelves, I’ll be over there.” You nod, and he lets you go to your reading nook. You curl up in the armchair and read it for the nth time.

—

“Oh, Dad said you wanted to read this.” You peek up from the love story you’re immersed in, nearly to the end. And see Juyeon holding the new book that you read last week. You look back down as you tell him, “Oh, I already read that one.” You don’t see his disappointment. But you hear it, “Oh... Okay, sorry.” You quickly go as you lock eyes with him, “But it’s okay if I read it again!” He smiles at you as he puts it beside you before nodding, and as he starts to walk away, you ask, “What if we read it together? If you liked the last romance, you’ll probably like this one.” He lets out, “Huh?” So you reiterate it, “Would you like to read it together?” His voice is soft as he asks, “You would like to read it with me?” You tell him, “Yeah, I’d love to.” He gives you a small smile, “Okay.” You tell him, “I just have to finish these last few pages…” He nods, “That’s fine. Would you like some tea to go along with it?” You grin, “I’d love that.”

As you finish reading the last few words, he returns with two teacups and sets them down. He pulls a chair over as you close your book and ask, “Would you like me to read first, or would you like to?” He shakily replies, “You first, please.” You nod and wait for him to sit beside you and get comfortable before opening up the new book and skipping past the foreword. In a silly voice, you start, “Chapter One~! How I fell in love with him.” He laughs, and you smile before returning to your regular voice and reading the first few pages before handing the book to him. His voice was soft yet rich as he continued where you left off, “I watched as he sorted his papers before returning to my work. How could something so simple be so attractive?” You could ask the same thing about him while he read to you. It wasn’t extraordinary, but because it was him? It made your heart swell. He hands you it back, and you start chapter two.

Every couple of pages, you two would trade-off. You were almost to the middle of the book when you both finished your teas. Juyeon starts reading chapter eight to you and after a few more pages. He hands it back to you. You watch from the corner of your eye to see him resting his head on his arms with his eyes closed, just listening to you read to him. That’s when you start to feel something stuck between the pages. You don’t acknowledge it but decide to read until the page to find out what it is. When you finally turn the page to it. You can’t help but feel giddy. Excited to see what it was until you realize it's a letter.

You tilt your head at it, pausing your reading to open the letter sealed with a heart sticker. And wordlessly begin reading the letter, “(Y/n), I knew I wouldn’t be able to say these words without taking one look at you and forgetting all I wished to say. I’m not sure when I’ll even get the courage to give you this…” You hear him rustle beside you and catch him hiding his head in his arms. You nearly giggle but continue reading, “And I’m not sure what started it all. But I’ve known since I was a kid that I've loved you as more than a friend. You make my heart swell. I can't stop thinking about you. I don’t think I ever have. When I was away, I’d always ask Dad to tell me about what you’re up to. And now that I can see you, it’s like all these feelings came back in full force.” You pause before taking a breath to continue, “You don’t have to reciprocate my feelings, but since we’re both back home. I think it’s best I let you know while I still have the chance to tell you.”

It ends there, and you have to hold your tears back as you look over to see Juyeon peeking his eyes over his elbow, trying not to look you in the eyes as he apologizes, “I’m- I’m so sorry- I thought you’d read it by yourself- and then as you read to me… I forgot that I put it in there…” You shake your head with tears in your eyes, “Juyeon, I’ve always watched you over the top of my books when you’d come down to talk to Mr. Lee. I love this library with all my heart. But every time I come back. It wasn’t just to read. I desperately wanted to see you again. And I’m not sure when it started either... But when you’d walk here with me. I tried to slow my pace. So I could be with you for at least a second longer before you headed upstairs…” He blinks at you, “You, what?” You smile, and a few tears finally break free, “I’ve loved you since I was a kid, too.” His jaw drops, immediately adjusting his posture, “You have?” You nod, and he asks, “Seriously?” He reaches up and wipes the tears that have slipped out of your eyes away. And you see he has tears pricking his own. You put the letter and book down before asking, “Can I make a childhood dream of mine come true?” He whispers, “Which?” You put your hands on either side of his face, mirroring him, “The one where I kiss you for the first time?” He sighs softly, “Please.” You bring his face to yours and kiss him for the first time.

It wasn’t fireworks, but it was soft and tender. Just as you always wished it would be. When you both pull away, he rests his forehead against yours. Breathlessly telling you, “My inner kid is cheering. How about yours?” You grin, “Mine too.” He brings your lips to his, giving you a peck before asking, “Want to continue reading?” You smile as you both pull away from each other, “I’d love to.” You lean your head against his shoulder as he reads to you again. Now, you no longer had to sneak glances at him. You could look at him whenever you wanted.

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yuna542 · 1 year ago

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💫Drabble Challenge💫

~Unbelievable~

By @marked-unknown

Pairing: Han x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Fluff, Comfort, Angst, Sexualising, Mentions of Sex, Swearing

Word Count: 5.8k

Note: I know it’s cheesy and cliché but I couldn’t help myself. Would love to be forced into a long bus drive with Han. ^^

Join my <Challenge>

„He reminds me of this annoying (but very charming) kid in a bus that tries to make you laugh when all you want to do is listen to your sad, depressing emo songs, pretend like you are in a sad music video and read your book (like Picture of Dorian Gray or some french poetry). You are stuck in that bus for couple of hours and there he is - making jokes, giving you snacks, making stupid faces, asking you to read the book out loud for him and so on, until he succeeds and you laugh and talk to him.“

"This seat is taken!" you snapped at the young man with the light hazelnut hair and unnaturally cute face who was about to push aside your bag on the seat next to you. Almost in a panic, you had your arm pressed down on the pile and were glaring at him in warning.

"Really? I don't see anyone here..." he replied dryly, sliding the headphones off his ears so they were around his neck.

You were getting angry again just looking at him. Han Jisung was the most annoying person on the planet, and after a day like this, exactly the last thing you needed.

"Just sit somewhere else!" you hissed at him and he just snorted and dropped onto the pair of seats in front of you where he put his backpack down, only to turn back to you and continue to annoy you, even though all you wanted was your peace and a quiet bus ride to feel sorry for yourself.

The day was already shitty enough, you didn't need his help to make things worse. In fact he did already enough.

"Are you mad about the suitcase? I didn't do it on purpose," he started a conversation with you again, while you pointedly pulled out your airpods and put one in your ear to finally block out his voice.

„It is your own fault. You should have just let me help but you're always so stubborn..."

You sighed in annoyance and put the other headphone in your ear as well. Then you picked a song on your phone. Han finally turned back to the front, apparently having finally realized that you weren't in the mood to talk to him. You looked out of the bus window and watched the other passengers who loaded their suitcases into the bus and also looked for seats. It was already noon, although the bus should start early at 10. Everything was running late and you could only hope to arrive at the hotel in time to try on your dress and prepare for the bachelor party. Otherwise you wouldn't get much sleep tonight. Your best friend was getting married tomorrow and you were the main bridesmaid in charge of planning the party. However, it all took place at a resort by the sea and the bus ride there took several hours. She didn't tell you until the last second that Jisung, her annoying big brother, would also be traveling with you. She knew exactly that you didn't get along very well. When he stood on the platform and waved to you, you would have liked to throw your suitcase right onto the road and yourself right after. Your nerves were already strained and a bus ride of several hours with Jisung sounded like hell. However, this was for your best friend and so you had swallowed your frustration and had been silently putting your suitcase away when he suddenly grabbed it. You ripped it back and had looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"For God's sake let go of the suitcase Jisung!"

"Let me help you," he said, and what should have been a friendly gesture, today made you go full crazy.

"I can do this by myself! Hands off!"

You tried to snatch the suitcase out of his hands again, but he was just as stubborn as you and always trying to tease you to the edge of bursting. Another reason why you probably had friction again and again. He continued to hold the suitcase, trying to pry it out of your hands.

"Just give it to me! Don't be like that!"

By now you were being eyed by the other passengers and the conversations around you died down as you fought like wild dogs over the suitcase, like the last bit of meat.

"Fucking let go you idiot!" you shouted, shoving the suitcase at him with a jerk so that it slammed against his chest. You're face was already glowing with embarrassment.

"I'm just trying to be nice, you ungrateful crumb!" he grumbled back, and as you both ripped at the suitcase at the same time, the clasp snapped and the zipper ripped open with a loud rattling sound. In a whirl of chaos and colorful fabric, the entire contents of your suitcase spilled out onto the dirty floor and you froze, stunned and on the verge of screaming out loud. Jisung's eyes were as big as plates, stammering something akin to an apology, while the other people around you began to murmur and whisper. You wanted to sink to the ground in shame, scream at Jisung or punch him in the face, but instead you just knelt down in a panic and tried to stuff your things back into the suitcase with your head buzzing. Because of the stress, you only noticed after a few seconds that Jisung was also kneeling next to you and collecting your things.

He didn't dare to say anything, until he held a red lace bra in his hands and actually pulled out the matching panties.

"Holy shit... What are you up to with these?" he asked with the more than erotic thong in his hand, which was basically all lace. He opened his mouth to say something stupid again, looking at you incredulously, but by then you were already ripping your underwear out of his hands and throwing them into the suitcase with the last pair of pants, and slammed it shut emphatically.

Without looking at him again, you had boarded the bus until he finally stood next to you again to get on your nerves.

As the bus began to move, you breathed a quiet sigh of relief and leaned your head against the window. While Lana Del Ray sang the sad melodies through your headphones and you watched the landscape go by, you tried to sink deeper and deeper into your melancholic mood. Because that's exactly what you needed right now. You had every right to gaze dreamily out the windows like in a movie and mourn over the crappy day.

"What are you listening to?"

Annoyed, you groaned as Jisung pushed his head between his two seats before you and eyed you curiously with his sparkling eyes. When you didn't answer, but stubbornly continued to look out the window so you wouldn't have to keep looking at that cute face, you felt his penetrating gaze continue on you.

"Aren't you going to talk to me? I asked you a question. Babe don't ignore me. You know that's useless..."

You tried to just tune him out, but this became more difficult with every second he stared through the seats with puffy cheeks and pouted lips, making you blush whyever. So you couldn't concentrate on the song, or your gloomy mood.

"Are you bored, Ji? Don't you have something better to do than annoy me?" you sighed, and the fact that you were finally talking to him he was clearly chalking up as a win.

"Actually, the battery in my headphones died... So I wanted to make a little conversation. And I'm bored."

You should have guessed.

Jisung has never been able to sit still except when he was asleep or listening to music. He always had to do something. Singing, dancing, or just talking nonsense. He had always been like that. Full of energy and charm. Never to be stopped and always with his head through the wall.

"Sounds like a personal problem. Then find someone else to annoy," you said, and he just grinned wryly.

"I only know you here though and you're always so cute when you're angry. Yes! Exactly like that, when you scrunch your nose like that!"

Quickly you averted your eyes, swallowed and tried to get rid of the rising heat from your cheeks. He was driving you increasingly insane. How you could endure five more hours with him was a mystery to you. Only an hour later, you were engrossed in your book. Jisung had fallen asleep. Thank God. Although the book was really good and you enjoyed the quiet moments, you kept catching yourself peeking between the seats and when you smiled at the sight of the dozing idiot, you quickly shook your head and averted your eyes again. He looked really cute when he was this quiet. His long eyelashes cast dark crescents on his cheeks and his plush lips were slightly pouted in sleep.

You tried to focus on the book again. It was a really sensual book. Full of romance, betrayal and a whole lot of eroticism. You were in your own world, the letters blurred into pictures before your eyes and you were completely absorbed in the story. Just as things were getting heated, you flinched violently as Jisung's voice suddenly tore through the film in your mind like a bolt of lightning and threw you back into reality. Suddenly you were back on the rattling bus full of strangers and your annoying companion.

"What are you reading?"

"A book. I know you probably don't know what that is," you replied a little meaner than you really wanted to. You didn't know yourself why you were projecting your anger and disappointment of the last days onto him, but he didn't really make it easy for you either.

Jisung tilted his head to read the title and the back of the book.

"You can read it to me..."

Suddenly he got wide-eyed and you already rolled your eyes, because you knew exactly what was coming now.

"Is this an erotic novel?" he exclaimed louder than necessary. The old couple in the seats next to you looked at you disturbed and the moment you embarrassedly looked around he used and snatched the book out of your hand. Much too late you jumped up and grabbed just the air. He stretched so that you couldn't reach him over the seats and read the page you had just been on.

"Give me that!" you hissed in panic, knowing exactly what he was reading. The scene was hot, violent, and in fact filthy porn.

"What the hell! This kind of things exist in books?", it escaped Jisung and he couldn't take his eyes off the page.

"Jisung! Please!" you pleaded, and by now you were bent over the back of the seat.

He looked at you, grinning at the desperation on your face. You were embarrassed and never wanted to look him in the eye again.

"Is that what you're into? With bondage and spanking?" he asked a little more softly, one eyebrow raised provocatively but he sounded genuinely interested.

"Shit, that's not funny..." you mumbled, and that's when he finally let you take the book out of his hands. As fast as you could you stowed it away in your bag. By now he was sitting turned around again in his seat right in front of you and had his arms crossed over the backrest.

"I remember when my sister and you were secretly watching 50 Shades of Grey and got caught. Your face was just as red then," he smirked, poking your cheek with his finger.

"Shut up!" you whispered, dejected by the shame. Quickly, you crossed your arms and looked out the window again. It was afternoon by now. In a few hours you would finally arrive and then you could avoid him. The rumbling in your stomach, while he continued to look at you with glittering eyes and without averting his gaze, became worse and worse. That's when he held out a bag of chips to you, but you declined, shaking your head.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked, causing you to look up. Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, you frowned in confusion.

"Huh?" was the only thing you could get out. His face was so close to yours that you could see the golden speckles in the chocolate brown of his eyes. Even up close, he was unnervingly attractive.

"Why have you been in such a bad mood all day? You never turn down snacks. What happened?"

"I'm not," you replied quickly. Too quickly. You've always been lousy at lying and Jisung knew you too long to fall for it.

"Oh yeah, so you're always this mean?" he asked, resting his cheek on the back of his hand that was laying on the backrest.

His open curiosity without any condemnation, made you sigh. Why would you lie? You could tell him. Maybe he would laugh at you, but then at least you would have gotten it off your chest.

"I got stood up. I had a date yesterday and he didn't show up."

Han tapped his finger thoughtfully on the blue cushion.

"Maybe he had a good reason," he considered, and that he was trying to cheer you up made you smile.

"It was the third time..."

Directly he got big eyes and pulled his eyebrows together.

"Oh," he mumbled, not knowing what to say to that. Just like you. It was humiliating to wait a whole hour in that cafe just to get a curt message without a explanation. Again.

You looked down at your hands kneading them in your lap, lost in thought.

"I really thought this time it would work out... He was really nice and attentive at first. Turned out he just wanted to sleep with me. I'm so sick of men."

Jisung looked at you concerned and pressed his lips together.

"Yeah... Unfortunately, many men are really too stupid to realize what they're missing. Even if it's right in front of them."

When you looked at him, a bit confused, he averted his eyes and quickly looked out the window. There was a strange tension in the air that you found hard to describe. Like the smell that hung in the air after a thunderstorm.

It sounded like there was more to the words than Jisung wanted to admit, but you were probably just imagining it. Silently, you looked out the window as well, trying not to look in his direction too often, which was becoming increasingly difficult. You had never noticed how handsome he actually was. Friends of yours and his sister's had often said it, raved about Jisung and his charm, but you had always been immune to it. Probably because you grew up so close and he got on your nerves most of the time. But right now you felt this attraction that everyone always described.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you stopped at the next stop and some people got off and others got on. An old lady stopped next to Jisung and pointed to the empty seat besides him and you. Her husband was right behind her.

"Excuse me, are the seats free?"

Jisung smiled his brightest smile directly and before you understood what he was about to do, he said:

"Of course. You can sit here together. I can just sit with my friend."

He gathered his things and came to you, but you just stared at him in bewilderment. Only when the lady and her husband took a seat and said:

"Thank you very much."

You reluctantly pulled your bag from the seat so he could sit down. Now he had made it after all and ignoring him was much harder when he was sitting right next to you.

"You're unbelievable..." you mumbled and he crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back and getting comfortable so his legs pressed against yours.

"I know. I'm amazing," he said with his eyes closed and a satisfied smile on his lips.

"That wasn't a compliment...", you replied, but he pretended not to hear it. Shaking your head, you had to force back a smile with all your might. Why did he make you laugh when you really wanted to be angry? So you put your headphones back in your ears and turned the volume up really loud. After a few minutes, he pressed his leg against yours, but you ignored it, trying to ignore the flattering in your chest, but he didn't stop and put a hand on your thigh to squeeze it. Since you were only wearing a skirt, you got goosebumps directly when you felt his warm hand closed directly around your bare skin. Questioningly you looked at him.

"Can I listen too?"

Directly you tried to look unimpressed, even though your heart was beating harder and harder against your ribs. From the moment he sat next to you, you smelled his scent, which had clouded your mind. He smelled like fresh soap, pungent aftershave, and even a bit of lavender. It wasn't fair that he was so perfect.

"No!" you said quickly. You didn't want him to make fun of your taste in music. Just as he was about to answer something, a message lit up on your display. You couldn't stop him from reading it, and your stomach hurt again when you saw the name of the asshole you thought had liked you.

„Sorry I couldn't make it. Want to come over tonight?“

Angrily you threw your head against the back of your seat and took a deep breath to keep from bursting into tears again.

"That asshole... I'm good enough to fuck," you said in agony, and Han looked at you silently for a few seconds before holding out his hand in demand.

"Give me that."

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

A little suspiciously, you frowned but then handed him your unlocked phone. What else did you have to lose?

That's when he opened the camera and set it to selfie mode. Then he held it up so you could both be seen. Directly he put an arm around you, pulled you to his chest until you were nestled against him. Completely perplexed you looked up at him and there he pressed the shutter. His touch made everything inside of you go muddled. You didn't even manage to form a sentence, especially when he didn't take his arm off you, but scrolled through the pictures he had taken with a smile. His fingers left a trail of heat on your ribs.

"What are you doing?" you asked meekly, completely confused by the fluttering feeling in your stomach. You looked cute in the pictures.... In fact, like a... Couple.

"That's not enough," he mused aloud, holding up his phone again to snap a selfie. Then he looked into your eyes so intensely it made your throat choke. He smelled so impossibly good that you almost buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"If we're going to get back at him, we are going to do it right, yea?"

His body was so warm and close and his lips just centimeters away from yours. Suddenly it was like there was no one but you on the bus. Perplexed, you looked up at him and his smile before he pulled your chin closer with his fingers, bridging the last distance, made your heart explode. It took you an eternity to realize his lips were on yours. He kissed you gently, carefully, but so lovingly that your entire body began to tingle. His lips were soft, tasting like chocolate. No better than chocolate. Before you could return the kiss, it was already over. Completely surprised, you could only stare. As if nothing had happened and it was the most normal thing in the world to kiss your sister's best friend, he scrolled through the pictures he had taken during the kiss and showed them to you.

"The picture is a bit blurry we should do it again..." he said with a teasing grin and finally you found your voice again. His eyes were glued to your lips and you gasped as he ran his thumb over your chin and you felt his breath bounce against your lips again, as he leaned forward again.

"Ji!" it escaped you and you pushed him back a little your hand against his chest to get some distance between you. You desperately needed your mind back and with him so close to you, that was impossible. So all you could think about was kissing him again. He made a funny face and dropped back into the seat, chuckling as he typed a message. Then he handed you the phone again and waited for your reaction when you saw the picture and read the message he sent in addition. The pic was hot... He seemed to be all over you, touching you greedy and heated. When you read the message und smiled softly.

„Sorry bro she's already busy. Should have treated her better...“

It was perfect. Thus the ass would realize that you didn't need him and didn't care about him at all. That you weren't a toy he could exploit for his pleasure whenever he wanted. Besides, Jisung also looked insanely hot in the picture holding you, his hair a mess and the tank top showing a bit of his trained figure.

"Thanks..." you said then, unable to suppress a grin of satisfaction. He smiled too and nudged you with his shoulder against yours.

"You're welcome. You shouldn't be hanging out with guys like that. They don't deserve you..." he said and took out his chips bag again, from which you took a whole handful and shoved it into your mouth. Suddenly everything didn't matter and your bad mood fizzled out. All thanks to Jisung.

"But with you or what?" you asked chewing and he watched you with raised eyebrows.

"Well, sure. I'm great! I can sing, play guitar, rap, and I'm gold at League of Legends. What more could you ask for?"

This time, you actually laughed. It was an honest, chuckling laugh, and Jisung beamed even more when he finally heard it again. Then you took the other earpiece of your headphones and silently held it out to him. His leg brushed yours and he pressed it firmly against yours as he took the earpiecee smiling and put it in his ear. You played some songs that he liked and so you ate snacks together, nodded to the music and he even put in a mini dance routine in between where you choked on a crumb from laughing so much, so he patted you on the back for minutes until the old couple even gave you a bottle of water. He told you about the bachelor party that was planned for the groom, his best friend, and you told him the plans for his sister's. Because your best friend was going to marry Jisung's best friend, he was the best man.

"Probably everyone expects us to sleep with each other..."

"What?" you asked a little too loudly.

Jisung just shrugged his shoulders.

"Isn't that a cliché? That groomsmen and bridesmaids sneak away to fuck at a wedding?"

"Even if that's the case... Then why would I... sleep with you?"

His smile was adorable and you were already staring at his lips again.

"Well... The other groomsmen are the groom's 50 year old uncle and his brother who is gay and married."

"Maybe I'm into older men," you said, putting on a serious face as you licked the remaining crumbs from your fingers and looking at him.

For a moment all color drained from his face, until you snorted and he understood that you had made a joke.

"Admit it already, you actually find me irresistible," he said and nudged you in the side with his elbow.

"In your dreams!" you said, and he pouted, playfully offended.

Amused, you looked at him and had to quickly avert your gaze, afraid he might read your traitorous thoughts in your eyes. He finally persuaded you to read along in your book, and he commented on every scene like a sports presenter, meanwhile trying again and again to figure out, confused, how everything described was even possible.

"In which position does all this happen? That's not possible!" he said, and you laughed so much that your stomach started to hurt.

It wasn't long before you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder and when he noticed that, he smiled warmly, took your headphones and cell phone from you to put them aside. Then he put his jacket around you so you wouldn't get cold and your dress wouldn't somehow ride up in your sleep. Unconsciously you snuggled up to him, as he leaned forward to put his jacket around your waist. Astonished, he froze for a moment, looking at you as you dozed off peacefully with your cheek against his chest, enjoying your touch and warmth. When he watched you like this, your body nestled close to his, he noticed how beautiful you were and how much he had enjoyed the last few hours. You're body just felt perfect against his und he had to force everything in him not to touch you. He had laughed more than in the last few months and right now he wanted to kiss you and hold you forever, but he didn't dare. Actually he had never dared to do that before today.

But he could look at you a little longer, enjoy your presence, until everything returned to normal. He didn't know how long he had been watching you and daydreaming, but when your eyelids fluttered and you seemed to slowly wake up, he panicked. He quickly closed his eyes, pretending he had been asleep the whole time.

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes and only when you yawned did you pause. With your heart pounding, you slowly glanced up to see how close you were nestled against Jisung. Fortunately, he was also asleep and didn't seem to notice. Carefully, your face burning with shame, you straightened up a bit. There you felt his arm around your body as it lay limp at your thigh. You tried to calm your breath. How had it come about that you had kissed Jisung and now you were sleeping cuddled together like a couple. As carefully as you could, you released your cheek from his chest, brushed a strand of hair from your face, and noticed the jacket on your legs. It was heavy, smelled pleasantly of him, and you had not put it there. Thoughtfully, you looked again at Jisung, who was sleeping peacefully. Then a thought occurred to you. It was brainless, naive and stupid, and yet everything in you wanted to cuddle up to him again.

After all, he had tucked you in and not woken you up to push you away from him. If you just lay back down, he would dismiss it as an accident, which it originally was. So you moved in slow motion so as not to wake him, as you nestled back into his arm, leaning your head against his chest and wrapping an arm around his stomach. He didn't wake up. Relieved, you relaxed and enjoyed his warmth. It was strange and completely surreal. Then why did you like it so much?

You listened to his heartbeat and breathing, and after a while you realized, confused, that it was faster than usual for a sleeping person. You looked up at him questioningly and when the corners of his mouth lifted, your heart stopped. With his hand wrapped around your body, he suddenly pulled you closer, ran his thumb over your hipbone, and smiled mischievously without opening his eyes. You almost choked on yourself. You felt caught, but he had also only pretended to be asleep. You decided you would have plenty of time to deal with it after, so you snuggled closer to him, closed your eyes, and couldn't help but grin.

When the bus finally reached its destination it was already afternoon, you startled up from your stupor and felt warm and cozy. You rubbed your eyes and broke away from Jisung with a furtive glance at him, who was yawning. The hotels lined the street and to the right and left was a green park with large trees leading towards the entrances of the hotels.

"We're here...", you mumbled and were almost even a little disappointed that the ride was actually over now and with it what had happened between you and Jisung. Whatever that was. You packed up your things and got off the bus. As you did so, you didn't dare look in his direction. The strange feeling in your stomach wouldn't go away and you just didn't understand what was going on with you.

When your suitcases were cleared out, Jisung got his backpack first.

"Do you want me to take your suitcase?" he asked as you heaved it onto the sidewalk.

"Don't you touch it!" you panicked, both of you laughing at the same time as your eyes met. Then you made your way through the park.

"Why did you only bring a backpack?" you finally asked to break the strange silence. The air was heated, smelled like flowers and warm asphalt. Your hotel and that of the bride and other bridesmaids were already looming in front of you at the end of the park. Jisung's was across the street so the bride and groom couldn't meet before the wedding.

"I don't need that much. Clothes I have on, food is there and I have my laptop with me," he said, smiling broadly at you.

"That's insane," you smirked and the closer you got to the hotel, the more restless you became.

"No practically," he replied and as you came to a stop in front of the hotel entrance, you looked at each other silently. Neither of you knew what to say. It was strange but not awkward. Everyone would go to their hotel and then everything was forgotten. Everything you felt, all the chaos and heart palpitations. He ran his fingers through his hair and stepped from one leg to the other.

"Well then see you at the wedding!"

You nodded quickly and your fingers tightened around the handle of your suitcase.

"See you then..." you mumbled. It felt wrong, unfinished and incomplete just to leave. Like you were missing something you'd never realized before. Like you ended the movie right beforehand the big finale. Still, you turned around after looking at his twinkling eyes one last time and he too started walking in the opposite direction. The tension in your chest made you barely breathe. You put one foot in front of the other, smoothed out your dress and tried to convince yourself that you had imagined everything. But that's when you heard behind you:

"Y/N?"

Questioning, you turned around and saw him drop his backpack on the floor and run towards you. You were about to ask if he had forgotten something when he reached you, cupped your face with both hands and almost swept you off your feet as he pressed his lips firmly to yours. Surprised, you staggered, but he held you tight and this time something exploded in your head, but you were too shocked to return the kiss. Instead, you had a thousand question marks in your head. Was this the right thing to do? And if not, why did it feel so incredibly good? Before you could find an answer to the thousand questions, he broke away from you and looked questioningly into your eyes. You could see how nervous he was and he waited excitedly for your reaction.

"I would have regretted it if I hadn't done that. I'm sorry," he murmured, looking at your face in his hands as if trying to memorize every detail one last time. You still tasted him on your lips and gradually you began to understand. Just as he was about to pull away, you grabbed his chest with both hands and clawed your fingers into his shirt. Roughly, you pulled him to you before you could change your mind and listened to your heart for the first time. You kissed him so passionately that both of your breaths stopped, but he didn't hesitate for a second to pull you to him, his hands firmly on your hips. The kiss was full of passion and the built up tension discharged into electrified energy between you. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling lightly until he hummed softly and your lips met again and again until you felt dizzy. As he pulled you closer to his body, until barely a piece of paper could fit between you and you almost lost your footing, the kiss became more sensual, slower. He let his tongue slide over your lower lip until you opened your mouth a little more and your tongues met. It was a heady feeling and you couldn't believe how long you had been blind for your own feelings. That what you wanted all along, someone attentive, loving and kind, was all the time right in front of you.

When you finally broke away from each other breathing heavily, tightly embraced under the canopy of a large oak tree, your eyes just bubbled over with energy. You both began to grin and giggle. You couldn't believe what was happening to you.

"What are we going to do now?" you asked, smiling and pressing your forehead to his. His hands stroked your back, leaving a comforting tingle and your body melted into his as you clasped your hands in his neck.

"I have no idea... Just want to do this forever."

Again you laughed in disbelief and you shook your head barely noticeably.

"You really are unbelievable, Han Jisung," you murmured, and he tilted his head slightly and winked at you.

"Told you."

Directly you rolled your eyes, but couldn't resist pressing another kiss to his lips. For a moment he broke away from your lips to say:

"Let me take your suitcase to your room... I'll be careful this time, I promise."

You snorted softly and stroked your hands over his chest. You felt more comfortable than you had in ages. He looked at you as if you had hung the sun and moon in the sky yourself, and he made you feel like you were beaming with pure joy from the inside out. Wordlessly, you pressed your suitcase into his hand and whispered, your lips just a finger's width from his:

"Just for once."

Spellbound, he waited to feel your lips again, to taste you and never let go, but you took a few steps back and smiled cheekily over your shoulder as you ran up the stairs to the entrance. Somewhat clumsily, he collected his backpack and followed you into the lobby with your suitcase and the widest grin you had ever seen.

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tearsonmarz · 9 months ago

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Scarian Flirting and Fishing pt. 2

(I know I said I wasn’t going to be adding onto the one-shot-- but that was before Grian’s latest episode came out, so here we are. Don’t hold your breath for another part. Also, I decided that it wasn’t going to be a modern setting, but I’m also too lazy to make either of these historically accurate. I wrote these for fun, they weren’t meant to be anything too thought out. Here's part one if you haven't read it yet. I was also too tired to edit it, but I need it out of my docs because it'll consume my thought otherwise.)

“So, why do you want this book so badly?” Scar was curious since he hadn’t seen Grian before. He had never imagined what would stem from a simple encounter with the sandy haired man.

He’d been following Grian for about a month now. They’d go to nearby streams, scrounge around for the book, spend hours getting excited only to be disappointed once again.

After the first two days, Scar bought a fishing rod to help out. But Grian had insisted that he wanted to be the one to find it, nevertheless Scar fished because it bothered Grian.

“I need it for something important that I’m working on. You know you can leave whenever you want.”

“Still trying to get rid of me, don’t you get tired of it?”

“Don’t you get tired of following me?” He shot Scar a look that only caused him to burst out laughing.

“You just aren’t going to give up.”

“I should be the one saying that.”

Why was he staying this long? There was no reason for him to continue bothering Grian. It’s simply something that had integrated into his daily routine. Every day without fail they would link up, take a walk down to the river and start fishing. They’d eat together, talk together, and enjoy each other’s company. It mainly consisted of Scar ranting to his hearts content, while Grian pretended not to listen. Every now again Grian would forget and chime into the conversation to Scar’s surprise.

Through it all they continued to hang around each other. The other’s presence because comforting and routine. Though Grian would never admit it, he was happy that Scar stuck around. Even if he wasn’t ecstatic about Scar in the beginning, each fishing trip felt a little more fulfilling even without a mending book. He hadn’t wanted to spend this month any other way.

“I don’t think this is the spot.” He dejectedly spoke as he reeled in another fish.

“Are you sure? It’s barely been an hour.”

“No, I’m not sure, but I’m just so sick of getting nothing every single day. It’s so infuriating.” A sigh left his lips as he tossed it onto the pile and put down his fishing rod.

“Why don’t we just take a break. Let’s head into town to eat for a change.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Finish up while I start packing up our stuff.”

‘Our.’ Just that simple word stuck in Scar’s head, enough to distract him from the pulling on his line. Snapping out of it, he reeled in is line. Much to his dismay it was a book. He walked over to his pile, but before he could inspect it, Grian called out to him.

“Ready to get going yet?”

He hid the book in the pile of items he had acquired pretending to sift through it. “Yeah, just let me finish putting everything away and I’ll be good to go.”

“Oh… Alright, I’ll just wait for you then.” Without another word Grian started towards the fishery.

Scar brought the book back out. It had a royal purple coloured cover decorated with golden trim, and an ominous aura to it. Besides, he already knew it was what Grian was looking for. Just in case, he was going to allow it to dry. Once he had gathered himself, he made his way to where Grian was.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything as long as it’s delicious and filling.” Grian sulked as they strolled.

Scar just smiled, leading the way to the nearby tavern. They grabbed something quick to eat, not paying much mind to the time. Scar’s priority was to cheer Grian up after all. Well, that was before he had found what they had been searching for. It felt like it was looming over his head. He knew he had to tell Grian eventually.

“So, G. What are you going to do when you do find that book?” That question earned a coughing fit from Grian. “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. Here-” He passed Grian his handkerchief, urging him to drink water as he tried to calm down.

“Why… Why do you ask?” Grian replied in between coughs. He cleared his throat, quietly thanking Scar and beckoning him to continue.

“Well, I just got to thinking. We’ve been fishing for a month, and it has to come to an end. I was just wondering what would happen to us when it does… End I mean.”

“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about what we would do. I guess, we’d probably go our separate ways.”

They sat there in silence for a moment. Wondering what the other was thinking. The thought of this coming to end was bittersweet and heartbreaking. Scar didn’t want it to end, but he’d be lying if the thought didn’t cross his mind. What was he to do after this? What was his life lie before hanging around Grian? That thought has only caused him more grief.

Scar never stayed in one place for very long. There was never anything keeping him tied to a single area. He was free to do as he pleased without a care in the world. For the first time, he had something to look forward to. Casual conversation, playful pranks, and a type of warmth he hadn’t experienced before. He liked the sense of security he began to associate with Grian. His home.

The thought of something changing, or Grian leaving him was devastating. And the fear began to set in. If he were to show Grian what he had found there was a large possibility that he’d leave him. He couldn’t take that chance. Maybe, if he held onto it for a little longer, he could find another reason for Grian to stay. Just maybe.

#hermitcraft #grian #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #hermitshipping #not edited #but I'll get around to editing it later #later night writing #the name of this two part series isn't the best so if you have a better name please let me know #the name is just what I labelled it in my doc lol

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 11 months ago

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a/n: ….i was supposed to be working or at least working on my fic exchange fic. but yeah. i took a slightly too long lunch and this happened instead. i have no explanation except for the fact that @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech post about nečas all the time and his big brown eyes have captivated me. this is just pure filth tbh and just barely edited so be nice 😅

word count: 2.7k

tw: fingering, oral (male receiving), brief handjob, unprotected sex, innuendo, dirty talk, mild voyeurism - let me know if i missed anything else

summary: you get bored while martin’s playing his video game so you decide to take matters into your own hands, so to speak

You’re bored and horny - a lethal combo. It’s Martin’s day off and it’s pouring outside, so neither of you had felt the need to go out and do things when you woke up and saw the weather. After lazy orgasms in bed, you’d gotten up to get a beef stew simmering in the Dutch oven, something warm and fitting for the weather.

Martin had gone down to the building’s gym for a workout and you’d cleaned out the drawers in your dresser, leaving two full bags of clothes to be donated. But now, Martin’s back in the apartment, showered and settled in his gaming chair with his headset on and a video game on the screen.

And you’re bored and horny.

Sure, you could clean out the closet or read a book or something, but you just want more of Martin. You miss him too much when he’s traveling and the team has a string of away games coming up. Quickly poking your head into the spare room where Martin’s gaming computer is set up, you confirm that he’s not streaming. He’s just playing with who you assume are the boys and when he scoffs into the headset, “ah, Svechy, you suck at this,” your suspicions are confirmed that it’s his teammates he’s playing with.

Happy that you can execute your plan, you undress, tossing your clothes in a pile on the floor for later, and stroll into the room. Martin doesn’t hear you enter, probably because of the chatter in his headphones, and when you step around him to stand next to the screen, he does a double take and his eyes widen before giving you a once over. His gaze lingers on your pebbled nipples and when his eyes land on your bare cunt, his lips turn up in a hungry smile. You cock your head at him, smirking and allowing your hand to slide down over your stomach, fingertips barely brushing between your legs. Martin’s grin grows downright dirty and he says, “go ahead, get in there,” startling you because surely he can’t be talking to you while he’s got the guys listening. But then, after just enough of a pause, he adds, “Fishy, come on. Get in the storeroom.” and you realize he’s going to make this fun for both of you.

He raises an eyebrow at you and flicks his gaze from your face down to where your fingers are lingering, giving you a meaningful look. You take the hint and shift your hand, thumb brushing your clit and burying two fingers into your already wet cunt. A satisfied little sigh leaves your lips and you grind on your hand for a few minutes, leaning your free hand on the desk for support as your knees turn to jelly. You curl your fingers to work up the pleasure building low in your stomach, arousal dripping and making your movements that much easier. You bite at your lower lip to stay quiet.

Martin keeps talking into the headset, but it’s like white noise to you since you don’t understand any of the lingo. He makes a gesture with his hands still wrapped around the controller and your fingers stutter, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you have no idea what he wants. He grins at you and opens his mouth, wiggling his tongue playfully at you.

Oh.

Your cheeks heat up and your fingers are drenched between your legs, but you pull them away - pouting at the emptiness - and hold them up to Martin’s mouth. He wraps his lips around your fingers and sucks them clean, tongue lapping at the pads of your fingertips. You shiver and he grins around your fingers, the devil. He hums, whether it’s a response to a question from the guys or a way to make you even wetter, you’re not sure and you don’t really care. He keeps your fingers in his mouth, lazily licking and sucking at him, while you drop to your knees in front of him and scrape the nails of your free hand over his bare knee. His cock is half hard under his shorts, the tented fabric a beacon for your gaze.

He glances down at you, opens his mouth to release your fingers, and says, “yeah, go ahead. You know what to do.” It’s directed at you and it’s not, his thumbs flying furiously over the buttons on the controller.

You sigh and lean your cheek against the inside of his knee, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. Martin barely moves and you wiggle the fabric down just enough to expose his cock and balls, saliva pooling on your tongue at the sight of him, huge even when he’s not even fully hard yet. You wrap your wet fingers around him and stroke slowly, gently, satisfied when he lets out a little grunt that he tries to disguise as a cough. You smirk to yourself, licking your other palm so you can get two hands on him, stroking him to full hardness. He’s throbbing in your grip, the soft velvet of his skin hot against yours.

Leaning up on your knees, you settle in between Martin’s thick thighs and he spreads them a little more so you have room, one hand leaving the controller briefly to rub the tips of his fingers against your scalp. You nearly purr at how good it feels. Martin’s cock twitches in your grip and you lean forward the rest of the way to place a soft kiss against the slit, darting your tongue out so the tip of it brushes the sensitive head. He grunts again, not even trying to disguise the noise, and bucks up slightly into your face. You tighten your hand around his base, a little warning, and suck the head of his cock into your mouth and hold it against your tongue. Martin groans and you wonder how he’ll explain the noises.

“Yeah, fuck,” he mutters. “I think we could’ve done that faster.”

You’re sure he’s talking to you, but you don’t change anything about your movements, letting saliva pool on your tongue and drool down his length so you can glide your hand over him easier. He feels impossibly thick in your mouth and you can’t wait for him to stretch you out. You never take more than a few inches of him into your mouth, even though you know he wants more, keeps flexing his hips up into your mouth. One of your hands is firm on his thigh, nails digging into his skin every time he tries to thrust his cock deeper down your throat. You keep up your fun until you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, pleasure coiling tight in your body. Martin rests his hands on the top of your head, the pressure keeping your mouth on his cock.

He laughs suddenly, his body shaking, and you gag a little on his cock when it pushes deeper. “Sorry, yeah, I told you the game is fun when you’re good at it,” he says and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard at the head of his cock, pre-cum filling your mouth.

Martin’s had enough fun, you decide, releasing the head of his cock with a wet pop, strings of saliva still connecting your mouth to him. He looks down at you, frowns. You grin wickedly back up at him, slipping your body under his arms and climbing up onto the gaming chair, knees on either sides of his thighs so you can straddle the thick muscle. You’re eye level with him now and he licks his lower lip, looking down at his lap. His cock bobs between your bodies, hard and red at the tip, leaking steadily. Martin’s hands rest at your lower back, just above the curve of your ass, the cool plastic of the controller making you shiver a bit.

“Mhm,” he hums into the microphone, “let’s do a targeted entry. On my count.” He looks at you, a teasing glint in his warm brown eyes. “One,” you reach between your bodies, grasping his cock. “Two,” you slide your palm over his shaft. “Three,” your thumb rubs over the slit on the tip and he groans.

You know he expected you to sit on him at the end of his countdown, but this is for your fun, not his. You can feel his hands moving at your lower back, can hear the faint action sounds from the headset. Your hand works him over slowly and you watch, sliding closer over his thighs so you can press his cock against your stomach, showing you both just how deep he reaches inside of you. He leans down and bites gently at your shoulder, flexing his thighs under you, feeling the rush of arousal drip over his skin. He leans forward to rest his chin on your shoulder so he can see the screen better and press his cock more solidly against your stomach. It throbs against you and you shift your hips so your cunt is pressed against the underside of his cock. You roll your hips a little, getting him slick, so you can lift up on your knees and using his shoulders as leverage, balance yourself just over his cock.

The broad head bumps up against your clit, making you gasp and whine while you line him up at your entrance. Martin kisses your shoulder and you sink down on him, just an inch or so, stretched wide. Your thighs tremble and you can’t keep your moans quiet even though you cover your mouth with your hand.

“Come on,” he says, voice raspy in your ear. “I think we can take it, it’s not too bad.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, with relation to the game, but you know he’s encouraging you to take more of him, so you sink down. Inch by inch. Until your ass is back on his thighs and he’s spearing you to the hilt. It’s hard to breathe, it feels like he’s stuffed you all the way to your lungs, your cunt stretched to the point of near pain, you legs spread wide and then wider when he opens his legs a little more. You hiccup a gasp, clenching around him.

Martin bites at your shoulder, muffling his own groan, before snapping, “go! Move, move, move.” His hands move at your back, working the controller, and you roll your hips, grinding down on him, bouncing over his cock. You’re soaked for him, the glide easy, keeping yourself as full of him as you can. Occasionally, he bucks his hips up into yours, drives his cock deeper, punches a moan from your lips.

You bury your face where his shoulder meets his neck, bouncing on him, the fabric of his shorts rubbing your ass raw, the slap of your skin against his balls surely audible through his headset. You’re dripping around him, so close, clenching around his length. One of your hands drops to your laps, finding your hard, swollen clit and working at the nerves with two fingers, sliding through the wetness. Pleasure and pressure build up in your stomach as you ride him, the throbbing of his cock matching your pounding heartbeat.

It just takes a few more seconds of his cock and your fingers until you’re gushing around him, your orgasm exploding in your body. You’re panting against his neck, your pace slowing down as your orgasm hits and your legs get tired. Martin thrusts up into you a few more times, keeping you bouncing on his lap even as he’s giving directions to the guys. Your hand is still between your legs when he comes, finishing inside of you with a muffled grunt and a hot flood. He keeps fucking up into you, pushing his cum both deeper and out of you.

You can feel his cum on your hand and you wipe it a little on his shirt, slumping against his chest. You’re exhausted now. Your eyes flutter shut, cheek pressed against his shoulder, cunt still throbbing.

“Fuck, nice,” Martin crows, startling you a little. “Good win, boys. Gonna log off and spend a little time with my girl.”

He pulls the headset away from his ear a little and you can hear a voice - maybe Svech, maybe Sebastian, you’re honestly not sure - say, “think you already spent some time with her, huh, Neci?” There’s some laughter and you blink, entire body flushing with heat.

“Ah, she’s a good girl,” he laughs a little. “Deserves my full attention.”

His hand is warm on your asscheek, patting gently. You bite at his shoulder and he pats you again, not as gently. The headset is back on his ear so you can’t hear their response, but you thought you had been quiet enough.

“Should’ve told me I was so loud,” you mutter when you feel him take the headset off completely. His arms tighten around your back.

“When did I get a chance, miláček?” He asks, nuzzling his nose against your temple. “I didn’t have a warning before you decided to use me as a sex toy.”

His hands knead at your ass, keeping you close. You can feel his cock start to throb inside of you, getting harder the more he touches you. Your hips move subconsciously over him, drawing a grunt against your temple.

“Was horny,” you mutter, gasping at the rough feeling of his fingers between your legs, pushing into your entrance along with his half-hard cock, filling you up.

“Did I not pay you enough attention this morning?” He asks, sounding genuinely concerned. He mouths at your neck, teeth scraping your skin, and you shiver in his arms.

“Just wanted more of you,” you pout even though he can’t see your face. “Miss you when you leave.”

Martin sucks a little mark behind your ear, “ah, moje sladká holčička, I miss you too.” He kisses down your neck again and your nipples pinch painfully. “How about I take you to bed and make sure you have something to think about when I’m gone?”

You can feel your body react to his words, wetness pooling between your legs again. You nod and Martin stands up, easily holding your weight and keeping his cock buried inside of you. Your legs lock instinctively around his waist, arms around his neck, and hold tight while he carries you back into the bedroom. He settles you onto the bed, kneeling in between your spread legs, hands wrapped around the backs of your knees.

“You know,” he says, lips curved in a teasing smile, “I had one of the best game scores while you were riding me, maybe we should make that a habit.”

You let out an embarrassed giggle and shake your head, “I definitely don’t need the guys hearing me again.”

Even as you say it though, the thought of the other guys listening sends a little thrill down your spine, your clit throbbing. Martin watches it twitch, carefully flicking his thumb over the bundle, making your back arch off the mattress.

“I think you liked that,” he rasps, “didn’t you? Liked the boys listening to your sweet little noises, knowing you were using me to get off.”

“Ngh- ah- no,” you manage to squeak out with Martin’s fingers continuing their assault on your clit.

He clicks his tongue. “No lying, miláček. Next time, you’re going to be even louder. Going to let the boys know how much pleasure you get from riding my cock.”

You grind against his hand, overwhelmed. “N-next time?”

Martin nods, free hand grasping the base of his cock, stroking himself until he’s hard. He bumps the head of his cock against your clit and you scream. “Good girl,” he murmurs, lining up at your entrance and pushing just the tip in. “Like that. You’re going to scream so they can hear you.”

You clench around the tip and he leans down to kiss you, driving his cock deeper, making you gasp into his mouth.

“But for now,” he says against your lips, “you played your little game, it’s my turn.”

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