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gretavanlace · 3 years ago

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Princess

Sammy Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex, dom/sub, impact play, edging, listen I’m a mess and you know it

*special thanks to our beautiful @greta-van-yeet for the gorgeous mood board

“Don’t pout.” you shake your head at Sam, as he yanks a water bottle out of the fridge.

“Not pouting.” he lies, striding past you to start off towards your shared bedroom. “Just tired.”

“Sam.” Your heels click aggressively on the hardwood flooring as you head after him.

“I hate it when you call me Sam.” he snaps, pushing the bedroom door open so swiftly it bangs against the wall. “I said I’m not pouting. Leave it alone.”

“No.” you fold your arms across your chest and lean into the door frame. “I’m not leaving shit alone. What’s wrong?”

“What could be wrong?” he’s taken on the snottiest of tones and you aren’t pleased with it. “I had a lovely evening watching my girlfriend’s coworker eye fuck her all night at dinner. Better than that, I could tell she liked it, so that was extra fun! You should call him and see if he wants to come over and fuck you while I watch tv or something, really round out the evening.”

“Should I?” You smirk.

“Fuck you for that.” he laments without venom, it sounds as though he regrets his words the moment he speaks them into existence.

“You understand that I have to watch girls literally lose their fucking heads over you at every single show, right?” you point out, making your way across the room so that he can’t ignore you as easily. “With you lapping it up the whole time.”

“That’s different.” He doesn’t sound like he’s even convincing himself. “Anyway, don’t try and turn this around.”

“I don’t think I like your attitude.” you lower yourself down onto the edge of the bed, watching as he begins to shed his dinner attire. You clock him curiously; even after all this time you’re enamored with him and a slave to the graceful and decidedly feminine way he moves.

“And I don’t think I care.” he mutters, yanking his belt through the loops of his dress pants with a zipping hiss of leather.

Your eyes widen, but not in surprise...breaking Sammy’s bratty tendencies has proven to be a futile task. Truth be told, you adore his mouthiness, though you’d never let him in on that little secret.

“Excuse me?” you question with a calm firmness.

His pants drop to his ankles and he kicks them away, somewhat akin to a disrespectful child throwing a mini tantrum. “You heard me.” is his flippant reply. Very unwise.

Completely finished with his display of insolence, you rise to your feet, silently taking hold of the authority in the room. Then you issue a quiet directive. “Kneel.”

Without hesitation, he goes to his knees. There is no conscious thought behind it, he is Pavlov’s dog, your voice the bell. There is a void of verbal complaint– as there should be –but he rolls his eyes subtly.

“Don’t sass me.” you snap. A soft apology feathers out of him as you move closer.

You remain fully dressed, right down to the heels still adorning your feet. Making good use of them, you nudge the tip of his semi-hard cock with a black suede toe. “Pick up your belt, princess.”

The apples of his cheeks bloom a pretty peach shade and your hands can’t help but cradle his godlike face.

“You like being my pretty princess, Sammy?” you don’t wait for him to respond. “You’re so gorgeous, I wanna dress you up like a doll and parade you around. I’d like to buy you a set of pearls and make you my sweet little housewife.”

A tiny smile quirks the corners of his velveteen lips, but, true to form, he just can’t help himself. “We’ll see how pretty I am in a little while when you’re bouncing on this princess’s dick.”

Snatching the belt from his grasp you bend forward to meet his eyes on level. “Sammy darling, if you were any prettier, I’d be getting ready to suck on your cunt rather than your cock.”

“Fuck...” the expletive hushes from his mouth on the smallest of sighs. Straightening back up, you eye him for a moment, toying with the belt. “Palms up.”

“Come on.” he whines. “I said I was sorry.”

“Palms. Up.” you repeat, running the leather through your fingers.

He offers his hands to you, palms on display.

“Good boy.” you nod, drinking him in for a breath when he blinks up at you, grateful for your praise. “You’ve been awfully mouthy and unruly tonight, princess. Do you think four sounds fair?”

“Yes.” it shakes out of him, but you know the tremble stems from excitement, not fear. Tapping the belt gently at his cheek, you remind him of his manners. “Yes, what?”

His eyes flicker up to yours and steal your breath, they are so stunning, honeyed and swimming with a mysterious depth you hope to never reach the bottom of. “Yes, ma’am.”

Your fingers travel through his glossy hair approvingly. “That’s better.”

You don’t give him a chance to complain or try and talk his way out of his punishment, and instead, you choke up on the belt until it is shortened into more of a strap in your hand and bring it down with a harsh, cracking snap against his right palm, then his left quickly.

A hissing gasp explodes out of him, but he remembers himself and licks his lips with a soft, “Thank you, baby.”

A curt nod is the only indication you give that you’ve even heard him, and then the belt makes swift, stinging contact with his hands in rapid succession.

“Fuck!” he growls, yanking his hands away, he strokes them together and glares up at you.

You meet his eyes and tilt your head thoughtfully. “It almost sounds as if you’re complaining, Sammy.”

“No...” he shakes his head and holds his hands out to you, silently asking for more, should you see fit.

“That’s my princess...so good for me.” you place a heel on his thigh in reward for his obedience. “Undress me.”

“But, my hands hurt.” There’s that whining he can’t seem to stop. Just when you’ve bestowed praise upon him, he goes and screws it up with his bratty back talk.

Grinding your heel down into the muscle of his leg just hard enough to inflict a dull ache you curl your finger under his chin, guiding his stare up to your face. “I didn’t ask about your hands, I said undress me.”

His mouth moves and hovers dangerously close to your stocking covered thigh, “Can I, baby? I just want to kiss you.”

“You can’t help it can you, Sammy?” you tease, pulling him in closer, but holding him by the hair just far enough away from your leg that he can’t make contact. “That mouth of yours gets you into so much trouble.”

“I’ll do better,” he lies. “I promise. Let me make it up to you and show you how sweet my mouth can be...wanna taste you. I swear I can smell you, you must be soaked.”

It takes every fiber of your being to deny him (and yourself) he’s right, you’ve completely ruined your panties and you can feel your slick all over the insides of your thighs. Yes, it takes absolutely everything you have, but somehow you manage. “We’ll see. I said undress me.”

With an eager nod, his hands slide your dress up over your hips and begin working at the straps of your garter attached to your thigh highs...you’d be lying if you said you weren’t imagining him popping the snaps and toying with the silk when you slid them on earlier in the evening.

“You’re a fucking goddess...” he breathes, smoothing his hands down your leg, dragging a stocking slowly down to your ankle. He takes a heel in his hand, removes it, pulls your hosiery away, and then replaces your shoe. “You’re my goddess and you’re so beautiful. Please love me.”

He begins working to rid your other leg of silk as you pet his hair and whisper words of praise down upon him. He soaks it up and nuzzles his forehead into your knee like a touch-starved kitten.

Once your stockings are tossed aside, he tugs your garter belt down and then reaches for your panties, but you stop him with a tsk of your tongue. “Those stay on for now.”

“But I want to taste you.” Ah, there’s the cheeky insubordination you’ve grown to expect from him.

“And you may.” you dangle the metaphorical carrot in front of his bewitching face, and watch him light up.

He reaches out once again to pull the soaked scrap of lace down, but you flick a fingernail against his cheek and his attention snaps up to your eyes. “You may lick me through my panties. If that isn’t good enough for you, then you get nothing.”

You catch the beginnings of a rebellious groan, but he cuts it off just in time and leans in, running his nose between your legs. The groan he suppressed now shudders out of him, but for a very different reason. Without being told, his eyes seek your gaze as he flattens his tongue out and drags it slowly over the lace, pressing harder against your hidden clit when he gets there.

“Such a good boy.” you sigh, raking your fingers into his locks.

“You taste so good, baby...” his voice is quiet, and delectably raspy and when your stare drops down, you are greeted with his beautiful cock, hard and straining against nothing but the cool, air-conditioned air.

He crawls forward, moving closer to your center but you shove him back with a heel on his chest. “That’s enough. Dress.”

That’s all the directive he needs and he’s up, tugging your dress up and over your head. He kisses along the length of your neck without permission, but you allow his momentary lapse of obedience, mostly because his mouth just feels too fucking good to scold him over.

You watch his eyes scan the rounded tops of your breasts displayed just right by your bra. “Would you like to see them, Sammy?”

He nods and runs the slick underside of his tongue over his bottom lip and then tugs it into his mouth by his teeth.

Your bra becomes a thing of the past with a flick of his fingers once you’ve given him your blessing to do so. “Would you like to kiss them?” again, he nods. “You wanna suck them with your pretty mouth, princess?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he moans melodically, setting your cunt on fire.

“Do it, then, pretty boy...” you draw him in with a gentle hand on the back of his head. “Make me feel good.”

His tongue, warm and wet, laps along your tightened nipple as you push his hand down between your thighs, allowing his fingers to play along your covered clit to quell the aching need pulsing there. He sucks and spoils them, nipping with his teeth, spiraling his tongue, humming softly as if there is nowhere on earth he’d rather be.

“So sweet, Sammy.” you ghost your fingers over his cut-glass cheekbones lovingly. “Feels so perfect, your mouth is heaven.”

The pleasure he draws from your praise alone is astonishing. You watch his eyes gloss and flutter up at you as his breathing accelerates, warming over your breast in heated little puffs as he sucks at you.

You pull him away from you softly and drop a gentle peck against his kiss swollen lips. “I think you deserve a reward for being my sweet boy and listening so well, don’t you?”

His reply pants out of him, a sexy, nearly silent whisper. “Whatever you think I deserve.”

“Lay down on the bed, princess...I want to see your pretty cock.”

The fevered pace in which he moves brings a trace of a smile across your face, that is rapidly replaced with a low sound of desire when you rake your eyes over him.

He looks like a god, stretched out and flawless with his unblemished skin and graceful lines. He looks more like a painting than a living breathing man, like if you touched him, the oils of your skin could mar the integrity of the art before you. If there is a god in heaven, he must gaze down at your Samuel each and every day and marvel at his exquisite creation.

“You are so breathtaking, Sammy.” You hush, taken aback by his beauty just as you always are.

His arms stretch up over his head, putting himself on display. “More.”

Your dear, Sammy...he gathers up adoration like the sea swallows the rain. “You are all the poems in history, every song, every smile that ever was...and I love you so.”

“Thank you,” his lashes flutter gorgeously in your direction. “...and I love you, too.”

Your line of sight travels slowly down his lanky frame and lands on his cock. Hard and thrumming with what looks to be an almost painful ache. Even his cock is captivating and perfect. “It looks like you’re in need of something, princess.” you tease. “Would your cock like some attention?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he shakes his head up and down vigorously. “Please? May I have your mouth? Just for a minute?”

“Only for a minute.” you concede. “And only because I want to suck it so badly. It looks delicious, so swollen and dripping all over your darling tummy.”

A muffled rumble of need quakes out of him. “Please, don’t make me wait. I’ve been so good for you.”

“Yes, you have.” you agree, crawling up to straddle his shins. You allow your breath to fan over his length and pull back when his hips arch away from the mattress in an effort to force your mouth to touch him where he needs you most.

“One more misstep like that and you’ll be falling asleep this hard tonight, Sammy.” You warn with a harsh edge that proves to him you mean business. “Don’t make me leave you this way.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.” he whimpers desperately. “I just need you so badly, please touch it. Fuck, please!”

Taking pity on your beloved, you trace the flat of your tongue up the underside and then place a chaste kiss into the plush skin of his head.

“Again, baby...” he begs, frantically clutching at the blanket below him in effort to keep from thrusting closer to your mouth. “Please, please, please...”

He sounds close to tears already, but none are apparent in his eyes just yet when you lift your focus to his face. “Please, what princess? Tell mama.”

“Put your mouth on it...” he huffs, red-faced now and glistening with a sheen of sweat. “Suck me into that gorgeous mouth. Fuck, I need it.”

You lick a winding trail up, and then back down his length as it jerks and twitches, hot and needy.

“Goddammit!” he clenches his teeth and shoves his hands into your hair, stopping just short of forcing you down. “Just do it already, suck my cock, please, baby, please...” he trails off and sinks deeper into the pillow when you raise your gaze, studying his face with open disappointment.

“You were so close, too, Sammy.” you sigh. “I was just about to swallow you down. I was so looking forward to letting you fuck my mouth.”

Sitting back on your heels, you look him over as he begins to writhe around in frustration, yanking on the bedding and thrashing his head back and forth on the pillow, tangling his hair into a halo of knots as he pleads with you for clemency.

“Settle down.” you order, not unkindly, but you certainly aren’t babying him either.

“I can’t.” he argues back, whining like he hasn't learned a thing all evening long. “I–”

He starts to smart off further, but you cut him off firmly. “I said settle down.”

Growing reluctantly still, he fights to chase his breath down.

“Good job, princess.” you soothe, running a calming hand down his dewy chest. “If I climb up onto your lap and sit on your sweet cock can you behave yourself? Hmm? Can you be a good boy if I ride you?”

“Yes.” his flushed eagerness endears you to him further, though you wouldn’t have thought it possible. “Yes! I promise, baby...I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be so good for you. I’ll be your good boy...just, fuck, please!”

“Tell me what you are.” you purr, climbing up to throw your thighs over his hips. “You know what I want to hear.”

“I’m your princess.” he sounds so meek and broken...fucking perfect. “I’m your pretty princess and I’m never prettier than when I’m inside your cunt. Fuck me, make me even prettier for you, mama.”

He rarely calls you mama, and when he does, it ruins you...isn’t he a sneaky fuck tonight?

True to bratty form, he gets his way and without further torture, you yank your panties to the side and grab his cock with your free hand, sinking straight down without bothering to ease either of you into it.

“Can I...” a sharp choking breath interrupts him, but he centers himself quickly. “Can I touch you? Please?”

You nod with your head tossed back in utter bliss, but he catches it and his hands fly to your waist. His long, slender fingers dig into your hips and you absolutely cannot wait to admire your bruises in the morning.

“Fuck, Sammy...” you pant, nails digging into his chest, grappling for purchase to hold yourself steady as you pound yourself down into his lap frantically. The room echoes with your hitching breaths, curses floating nonsensically past both of your lips, skin smacking together in an ever changing rhythm as neither of you are of sound mind enough to keep any sort of tempo going...it’s all moans and grunts and hisses of unrecognizable words as you tear each other apart, until he growls out, sounding pained...

“I’m gonna cum...” his hand snakes up your back and yanks you down against him so that your lips are flush against the shell of his ear. “Please, tell me I can cum, baby...please...fucking say I can cum...”

“You can cum, princess.” you lick at the lobe of his ear through your words. “Come on, Sammy, cum pretty for me. I’m so close.”

The whiniest sound groans out of him followed by a choked “Oh fuck, thank you, baby...” and that, combined with the heat of him spilling inside you shoves you over the edge right behind him.

You grab onto his hair, holding on desperately as if you’re afraid he might vanish into thin air, a beautiful mirage you’ve imagined beneath you...for surely this ethereal man cannot be real.

When at last your bodies begin to slow, you’re both quivering and stroking one another’s faces with unfettered worship, you are each other’s deities, you are the whole world to him, and he to you.

Silence falls over the room as you stare into his eyes in the faint moonlight creeping through the window. Words have no place here in these moments, no purpose.

Soon, one of you will break the spell. Sammy will rise from the bed and fetch something warm to clean you up with. You’ll laugh and tease each other. Maybe you’ll go straight to sleep, or you might curl up in bed and talk, or watch something mindless on TV, but for now, you are quiet together, and these are your favorite stolen, secret moments with him.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @gardenofgreta @greta-van-chaos @moonlightbrekker @theweightofstardust @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @shesalrightshesouttasight @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @kdarling1 @jake-kiszkas-smirk @pardeeinsaginaw @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @loofypoofy @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @ohgotthisfeelingthatyoucantfight @prophetofthedune @gretavanflowerpower @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @greta-flanveet-admin @alisonwonderland29 @agirlwithmanytastes @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @janegvf @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @avagvf @gretasmokerising @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @trplshotofdopamine @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @dakotadovato @joshkiszkas @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @kiszkashorizons @rhythm-of-space

#greta van fleet #fanfic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #sam kiszka #sam gvf #sammy gvf #sam kiszka smut #sammy kiszka #sammy sunday #gvf imagine #gvf one shot #gvf x reader #gvf smut #gvf #gvf fic

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oh-katsuki · 4 years ago

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Cum. (Inumaki x Reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Inumaki x Reader

Summary: Toge’s cursed technique is good for things other than fighting.

Content Warnings: Overstimulation, dub/noncon (curse use), consentual noncon (consentual use of his cursed technique), oral (female receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, dumbification

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: heheeee my first new fic on this account, enjoy. tuna tuna or whatever. for those of you who were tagged wondering why you were tagged, I just took the taglist from my old account so hello!

thank you to @murmikaa for beta reading this for me! ilysm

Toge was not a man of many words, but when he did use them, when he did expend his cursed energy for reasons some would deem frivolous, it almost always resulted in you having a good time.

He liked to respect your boundaries, so as the words “turn over” slipped from his lips, you recalled your safe word. You both needed it. Toge’s cursed technique could have you doing just about anything he wanted and he had insisted the first time you both tried this that there be a safe word, just in case.

His palm moved up the back of your thigh, ghosting over your pussy and coming up to smack your ass lightly. He admired the way the skin bounced, the way the meat of your body seemed to sway forward and back with every little motion of his.

“Toge,,,” You whined out, turning your head to face him, “Need more.”

He lifted his eyes to yours, lips pulling upward into a teasing smile as he ran his fingers through your slick, earning a gasp from you. Toge lifted his fingers from you, watching the way strings of arousal stuck to them. He returned his gaze to you, flushed and on your hands and knees in front of him. He said nothing, but the smirk on his marked lips had you squeezing your thighs together as he lowered himself onto his knees behind you. His hands ran down the outside of your thighs as he positioned his face behind your soaking cunt.

You pushed back against him, desperate to feel his mouth on you. He’d been teasing you for so long, his hands running over every dip on your body, fingers and tongue teasing your nipples until they were raw. Toge loved to take his time with you, it made using his cursed technique all the more fun, he thought you always looked so pretty begging for it, so no matter how badly he wanted to give in and make you feel good, he always found that the wait was worth it.

Toge put one hand on either side of your ass, tutting slightly at how impatient you were being, a silent warning that if you didn’t behave, he would make you. His stare was so intent as he licked a long stripe up the back of you, starting just before your clit and licking all the way up and past the entrance to your cunt. Your head fell forward, thighs twitching and a breathy moan leaving your lips at the much needed stimulation.

He smirked into you, tongue delicately pushing at the folds of your cunt, teasing your weeping hole with the tip before dipping down to circle your clit. Toge’s mouth was so experienced, the wet muscle dipping back and forth and giving attention everywhere he knew you liked it. He built you up so slowly, taking his time with savoring the taste of you and the way you struggled to keep your legs spread for him.

His hands kneaded the soft flesh, manicured nails occasionally ghosting over you, sending chills down your spine as his tongue worked your pussy. He squeezed the soft flesh, spreading you open slightly so he could clean up every single drop of what you had to offer between your legs. The room was dominated by the gentle wet sounds from where his tongue met your body and you could hear each time he swiped it over your clit. You needed more though, and Toge knew that. Your hips started to circle slightly over his face, grinding your ass onto his open mouth, pressing your pussy against his tongue.

He obliged, starting to lap at your folds faster as he dipped a finger, then two, into your weeping cunt, curling it forward to find that spongy spot inside of you. He loved the noises he pulled from you, whines so high pitched and sweet that it made his cock throb. Toge started to grind himself against the bed. He’s just so hard for you, so needy at how obedient you’re being, ass up in the air for him, cunt clenching around his fingers with each curl.

Toge was so attentive, eyes trained up at where your shoulder blades dipped, watching the way you turned back to look at him. It was almost too much, the way he watched your reactions so attentively as he rutted himself into the bed. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling you further onto him as his tongue swirled circles around your clit. Toge’s other hand was curling inside of you, towards your stomach, as if he was trying to bring you closer to him with each pull.

You were so close, teetering on the edge as you babbled to him, nonsense falling from your lips. The coil in your stomach was turning over, pressure building as you ground down against his mouth. You let out a whine, your fingertips and toes growing warm with the weight of your impending orgasm before Toge is pulling his fingers and lips from you, standing tall.

“Hn- fuck- why?” You whine out, toes curling in frustration as your orgasm is ripped from you. “Need it, Toge. Please, please.”

He watched the way you squirmed, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes before his lips parted. The word tumbled so smoothly from his mouth, tattooed tongue peeking through slick coated lips.

“Cum.”

The word hit you so forcefully, curse seemingly moving through your body and rushing to your cunt which started to seize around nothing. You could feel the way the curse swam around your head, moving through your body in a single wave and sending you over the edge so suddenly.

Toge simply watched, head tilted and hand roaming the fat of your ass as you shook beneath him, legs trembling and elbows growing weak. He fisted himself in his hand, pulling up and down on his cock and spreading precum down from the tip. He loved that he could do this to you, hearing the way you practically screamed from the shock of it was worth any throat discomfort he had to endure. Just as the wave that ripped through your body began to ebb, Toge was back down between your legs, marked tongue sliding between your sensitive folds.

He loved the way you tasted, cum spreading across his tongue with each fluid movement, but he didn’t like your squirming. It made it hard for him to get a proper taste, to really feel the way that smooth skin grows wetter with each flick of his tongue.

“Don’t move.” He spoke into your cunt, words gripping your chest and making you seize up, put at his mercy.

You’d heard him use the phrase before when exorcising curses, but having it used against you put a new type of feeling into you. Despite trusting Toge with your life, everytime he uttered those words to you in the bedroom had you on edge, heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you tried to balance this feeling filling your head and the way he assaulted your overstimulated cunt.

All you could do was whine, a high pitched shout leaving your mouth as he tongue fucked you into another violent orgasm, this time without the use of his curse technique. You wanted to move away from him, kick him off to give you a moment to breathe but you couldn’t, instead only collapsing forward onto the mattress, ass stuck up in the air for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, stop. Stop.” You managed to choke out, voice growing in pitch as a low hum escaped him, sending vibrations through you.

Your head was spinning, so consumed by the control he had over you, literally and figuratively. Toge made you dizzy, always had.

By the time he came up to kiss you, finally satisfied, you were a babbling mess, unable to form coherent sentences. You were too weak to move. Not because of the curse, but because of the countless orgasms Toge had pulled from you with his tongue alone.

He tasted like you when he kissed you so gently. He pulled you into his arms, fingers dancing across your skin to wipe the tears from below your cheeks. How could someone be so nice but so mean in bed?

“I love you.” You exhaled, puffy eyes meeting his own, lashes wet with tears.

“Salmon.” He affirmed, smiling gently at you. You buried your face in his chest, heat rising as a laugh bubbled up through your chest. You knew what he meant, but that doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.

tags: @namrekcaivel , @murmikaa , @keisukez , @veroyktv , @honeyzawa , @marviesss , @erenstellar , @female-titan , @kiyoobi , @pancakesv , @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

Text

Let Me Show You - Bucky Barnes x F! Reader (smut)

Gif by @buckysbarnes

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for a few months now, and the man has given you everything - literally. One night, Bucky encourages you to let go of your anxiety and let him show you just how sinful that mouth of his can truly be.

Warnings: 18+!!! Brief mention of drinking, Swearing, smut!!: Oral - f receiving, fingering, praise kink, arm kink, (Bucky kink?), unprotected PinV sex, fluff, encouragement

Word Count: 4k+ - I got carried away.

A/N: Aaahhhh, my first ever request from @kaylee-krystal I hope I did your idea justice and this is what you were hoping for. I added my own ideas for backstory and such, so I hope it’s okay 🙊thank you again, so, so much for requesting!!! I have reread this a couple times, but I’ve no doubt missed something somewhere, so apologies in advance.

Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood

James Buchanan Barnes.

Now there was a topic you could talk about day and night.

And probably even in your sleep.

You’d been dating for a few months now, and everyday was better than the last, even it did sound cliché.

You’d met in a local Brooklyn bar, having frequented it now and then with your friends for relaxed nights out or after work drinks.

The first time you’d seen the soldier, he’d been sitting at the bar alone, brooding over a beer.

It had taken you a few moments, but you’d suddenly realised who it was.

Bucky Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier, Avenger and now often seen with Sam Wilson.

THE Bucky Barnes was sitting in your local.

And instantly he had taken your breath away.

A set of cheekbones that could cut glass with a jawline to match. Plush lips that looked irresistibly soft - and sinful.

A tangle of dark hair that was begging to have a pair of hands run through to mess it up.

You could see the broad line of his shoulders from where you were situated in the booth, and you went home that night imagining everything else about him.

The next time you saw him, it was about a week later. You were waiting for your friend to arrive and had gone up the bar to get drinks ordered.

And there he was, just like the last time.

Only now, you saw that he had a pair of gorgeous eyes, a blue like the Arctic Ocean and just as deep.

And they were settled on your face with a cheeky little smile, which only grew when you looked at him.

Moments later, you were seated next to him, lost in conversation about whether the Hobbit was better than Lord of the Rings.

After laughing at one of his jokes, he’d asked you out on a date, instantly enamoured with the way your eyes lit up like the Brooklyn Bridge and you radiated goodness.

And the rest was history.

One date fell into two, and then three, and then just like that... you were dating.

Boyfriend and girlfriend.

Picnics in Prospect Park and afternoons at the Smithsonian.

Nights watching all the movies and tv shows he still needed to catch up on and mornings where you joined him on a run.

It was beautiful. Sure, you had a few tense moments where you might disagree, or he might have a bad day where memories crept up and he lashed out, but you never backed down. Never ran from him or looked the other way. And he did the same for you. Holding you when you needed him to but firmly expressing himself if you ever went too far.

It was healthy, enriching and you had both grown so much in just a few months.

Especially in the intimacy department.

You weren’t lacking knowledge or experience, not by any means but it was just... some things you were a little uncomfortable with.

It wasn’t that you had bad memories of the past or had been hurt, it was more a personal thing.

And you had explained some of these hang-ups to Bucky, who’d taken them all in his stride and been amazing about it.

When you were in these moments, he would ask if you wanted to try something and if you said no, he respected it and moved on. And if you said yes... well. Then you got a lesson in just how good he could make you feel.

Bucky had learnt your body in no time at all and... He was mindblowingly good. He knew exactly how to make you cry out his name like a plea, a prayer and a sin all in one.

It had gotten to the point where you’d drift off in the day, your mind taking you back to the way his lips mouthed over your skin, the way his fingers arched and curled inside your walls just right to reach that spot that hard you arching from the bed all the whole those baby blues were locked onto yours, watching you fall apart with an adoring fire blazing in the blue depths.

The man only had to give you that killer smile and you’d be instantly soaked.

He was going to be the death of you one day.

“Bucky!”

The sound of his name bounced around the walls of your bedroom, high and keening as the fingers of his vibranium hand stroked your inner walls with a relentless rhythm and pleasure.

“C’mon baby, that’s it..” he mumbled the sweet nothings against your chest, his mouth pressing kisses across your hot skin, over your collarbones and breasts.

His hair tickled your neck as your tipped your head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth parted in pleasure.

He was working you to your second orgasm of the night already.

The man had practically pounced on you when you walked through the door of your shared apartment and you were only too willing to drop everything - underwear included - and lose a few hours.

Your hips jerked against his hand, bucking in time with his fingers. The heel of his hand was pressed to your clit, applying delicious pressure with each pass of your hips as you chased down your release, feeling it coil tighter and tighter in the base of your spine.

You slid a hand up into his hair, knotting your fingers in the silky chocolate locks “Fuck-“

God, you were so close, so, so close-

Bucky already knew, and he scissored his fingers inside you, sucking at your nipple and triggering your orgasm, gently pushing you over that edge.

Pleasure tore through your body, making your blood sing and his name bounce through the room again. Every single orgasm he gave you made your body catch fire, and you felt it from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. Through the haze, you heard his lust roughened voice, cooing those praises that only succeeded in making you come harder, “Good girl. Look at you... you look like a goddess. A fucking goddess that deserves to be worshiped every single day.” His hot breath fanned over your skin, “Make me want to do this all the time, give you everything, baby.”

He kept moving his fingers inside you, the noise filthy and almost forbidden as your slick coated his vibranium fingers. He moved and moved until you pushed lightly at his hand, the sensation almost too much.

Bucky met your eyes when they opened, and he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking at them and he moaned low at your taste, a wicked grin spreading around them when you groaned. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

Of your taste.

You let out a soft huff of a laugh, feeling your body hum still as you beheld the sight of your boyfriend sucking your juices off his fingers, all dark eyes and ruffled hair. “You will be the death of me one day, you know that right?”

His chuckle was husky and he kissed your neck gently, “Oh, I know. But you will too, so the feeling is definitely mutual, doll.”

His lips brushed over your belly button and a ripple of apprehension tickled down your spine and you struggled a little to focus on his words. “Every day since, you just blow me away. Everything you do. The way you’re so determined, the drive you have.” His kissed above your hip bone, tracing his tongue over the skin and he drew a little heart with his saliva, “You make me want to be a better person. You make me feel brave enough to make amends, to let go of my past and accept it.” His words were so heartfelt, so meaningful that they threatened to bring tears to your eyes.

But then his lips brushed lower, and you knew where this was going.

He had tried before, a couple of times now in the last few months and each time you’d stopped him.

And each time, he did so without hesitation and just moved on.

Your eyes snapped open, spine locking up, “Bucky.”

Instantly, he stopped. His head lifted as he heard the hesitancy in your voice, the apprehension, “What is it, baby? Are you okay?” His lust-blown eyes were wide, a frown between them as he looked over your face for the cause of you stopping him. He realised what he did and his face softened, “Shit, baby... I’m so sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Your heart was pounding through your chest and you were convinced he could hear it. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not you... I just... um..”

Oh, you wished the ground would swallow you up.

Bucky’s warm, broad hand rubbed soothingly over your thigh and he felt the tremble in your body, “Hey... relax. It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me... .”

You swallowed, shame tinting your cheeks and you stared at the ceiling light, too afraid to look at him. But he had shared so much with you... and you wanted to share this with him, “No one... no one has ever...” a cringe took over your features, “Gone down on me before.”

Silence.

Oh, god.

Your voice came out quiet, hesitant, “Bucky...?” Gathering your courage, you peered down at him.

He was staring at you, that frown still between his eyes as he looked over your face. He had his suspicions as to why you didn’t like it, but he was never sure. “Is it because... Have people refused to? Because if they have, they were not worth your time. You are beautiful, completely and utterly beautiful and deserve to have someone worship you like that.” there was a tone to his voice, like he would go and tear into anyone who refused to give you such pleasure.

Oh.

Shaking your head quickly, you sat up on your elbows, “No! No, it’s not that. They’ve asked to it’s just... me.”

It was true.

You had partners who asked to go down on you all the time but... something in you just couldn’t. You weren’t sure entirely why.

Whether it was the idea that someone would be so close... there.

What if you weren’t... pretty enough?

What if you didn’t taste good?

What if.... you did something wrong?

It had always been a bit of a hang-up, and even when your friends described how unbelievable good it felt... you just couldn’t do it.

Bucky’s eyes danced between your own, as if he could read all of this in your expression. He let go of your thigh, crawling up your body and he slide a hand around your jaw, his fingers resting behind your ear, “Baby... you have nothing to worry about. You are absolutely gorgeous, so, so beautiful. Every single thing you do, it blows my mind.” He stroke his thumb over your cheek, “You can walk to me in sweatpants and my hoodie and I’m struck dumb.”

You laughed a little despite yourself and he copied you, eyes lighting up when you did, “Having someone go down on you... it’s like the ultimate act of worshiping. You are in control. You tell me when to stop, pull me closer or push me away... On my knees for you, tasting you and taking you to that edge.” He cocked his head, “It’ll feel a little odd at first but when you’re used to it... Oh, doll, it’ll feel so good.”

His words filtered around you, moving through you.

You knew he was good at his craft, at reading your body. And you also knew he would never make you feel uncomfortable and he would always stop if you asked him to.

And god, there was a part of you that so desperately wanted to feel it, to feel someone’s tongue between your folds, moving inside you, between your thighs...

An image came to you, his dark locks nestled between your thighs, rumbling moans vibrating against you as you arched above him...

“Okay.”

He blinked, perhaps not having expected you to accept so quickly., “Are you sure? If you’re not-“

You swallows, lifting your hand to his on your cheek, “I... I want to. Show me. Show me how good it feels.”

Bucky looked deep into your eyes, checking for himself and when he seemed satisfied, he nodded gently. “Okay... Okay. If you feel uncomfortable, if it hurts or it’s too much, please tell me to stop. Use the safeword, hit the top of my head, kick me, anything. Okay?”

God, he just cared so much didn’t he.

Heart melting, you nodded again, a smile mixed of anticipation and a little bit of nervousness on your lips, “Okay. I promise.”

Sndjcidks djcocks djckc

The approach of your impending third orgasm was almost painful, the heat in your belly tightening impossibly, every single muscle in your body locking up and screaming for release.

Bucky was there, already reading it in your body and his free arm lifted from across your waist, reaching up and sliding through yours.

You tightened your fingers around his cool metal ones, your hips now free.

An instinct came over you, and you began to rock your hips against his face-

Heat and shame flushed your cheeks and you opened your mouth to apologise, to try and stop your hips from moving -

But then Bucky let out a rough moan that reverberated through your walls, through your clit and you realised - he liked it. He liked you fucking yourself on his tongue, smearing your slick over his chin and lips.

Holy fucking god.

You wanted this, you wanted this all the time, him all other time.

Bucky rubbed harder at your clit, running tight circles and his tongued slide over your folds and then speared inside you, like white hot fire. The tip of his tongue stroked that spot, that spot that he seemed to have a direct route to and then - you were falling apart.

Your orgasm barrelled down into you relentlessly, searing through your body and turning you to light and stars and something entirely ethereal.

It felt like every cell in your body exploded, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that just didn’t end.

Bucky took it all, took every ride of your hips, every clench of your thighs around his head and he worked you through it, tongue lapping up your juices like a man starved as you came apart above him.

He didn’t let you go, holding you steady in the whirlpool of pure sensation as you ever so slowly came down back to Earth.

You panted softly, your eyes slowly opening to the familiar ceiling of your bedroom.

Fucking hell.

Fucking. Hell.

A stunned laugh escaped your lips and you unclenched your fingers from Bucky’s hair, rubbing over your face.

He pressed soft kisses to your thighs, trailing up your body and then lightly pressing his lips to yours.

You could taste yourself on him, and it was intimate and a little filthy and god - you loved it. You loved him.

Kissing him back with equal fervour, you couldn’t stop grinning.

Bucky matched your wide smile, his body held up over yours and he brushed back your damp hair, “How do you feel?” Always looking out for you. He pulled away gently from your lips, trailing his mouth over your jaw.

You chuckled again, breathlessly, “I feel... amazing. Like my body is singing.” You shook your head just slightly in awe, “I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without that. You’re fucking good...”

You felt his shit-eating grin against your jaw, his teeth lightly nip your skin, “See... I told you. You deserve to be worshipped, baby. And I plan on doing it again and again, on my knees, under you, over you... like the goddess you are.” He brushed his lips over the shell of your ear, his voice a rough, husky whisper, “And I plan to carry on right now.”

The rest of the night fell away as he slipped back inside you effortlessly, and you climbed to the sky together again and again, and all you could think was... This was it.

You’d only been with him for a few months but in that time he had shown you more than anyone ever had. He had lovingly and carefully peeled back your layers and revealed such a shining light beneath, the light that had always been there and he had seen since that first meeting.

You wanted this forever, all the time. His love, his trust...

And his lips and tongue.

#my first ever request 🥺#oh god I hope this is okay #*nervously waits*#you just know I had to put the vibranium arm in there #look we all have an arm kink and that’s okay #we are nurturing not shaming #Bucky barnes smut #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x reader smut #Sebastian stan x reader

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voxmortuus · 4 years ago

Text

Bath Time Puppy

Geralt of Rivia x F!Reader

The Witcher (Netflix)

TW: Language | Fluff | Smut... I'll leave it at that. You know the drill lol.

It's a short one.... less than 1k

Scar gif created by @demivampirew the other two I am unsure. Please if you know who they belong to help me give them the correct credit! <3 thank you.

Please don't sweat that it was taken! I posted it to my @rebloghappy blog. It was supposed to be posted to this one!!! Follow for more!!! <3 Sorry for the mixup!

He is the filthiest thing you've set your eyes on by far and you've seen many travelers come through this place. Covered in blood, dirt, mud, and who knows what else this man was covered in you look him over. Licking your lip he was great to look at, easy on the eyes and you were sure he cleaned up nicely.

"You good Sir need a bath." You smirk.

"Mmm." He responded.

"Come on Puppy, let's get you into a bath."

Furrowing his brow he watched you and narrowed his gaze on you as you took his filthy hand and dragged him into a room.

"Must we do this again Y/N?" He asked you.

"Hey, I've got to put on a face. After all, I've got a reputation to uphold Puppy." you smirk again.

"I hate it when you call me that." He groaned a bit.

"No you don't. Now let's strip you down." You smile as you untuck his shirt and pull it from his battered scared body. You look over his face and smile tucking a few strands of white hair behind his ear leaning in on your toes and kiss him softly before undoing his pants letting them drop. "In you go." You smile looking over the water.

As he gets into the tub he looks at you and smirks. "You're going to wash me?" He asks.

"Anything for you, how do you want it this time?" You ask him.

"Thorough." He states. "Pay close attention to the delicate parts." He smirks.

"Of course." You bat your eyelashes. Grabbing the sponge and a cup filled with water you pour it over his head washing his hair first. He groans in pleasure, enjoying the sensation of your nails against his scalp. Rinsing him off you take the sponge and wash his chest, arms back, and your hands go under the water, with your lips pressed against his neck your hands grabs his thick semi-erect cock and you being to stroke him in the tub as you are leaned over behind him, kissing his neck nipping his hands grip at the side of the tub.

"Fuck." He groans his head resting against your shoulder as you have a firm grip on him as your thumb graces over the sensitive tip and you jerk your hand in an up and down motion hearing him groan he moves his head to kiss you deeply, grabbing your neck he moves to stand up and literally rips the dress from your body tossing it to the floor beside the tub. Lifting you he moves you to wrap your legs around his waist as he thrusts into you before falling to the bed that was in the center of the room as he thrusts deeper into you. You let out a loud moan as your nails dig into his skin.

Your hips move with his, his hands reach up and pin yours above your head, watching your breasts bounce as he thrusts roughly into you, feeling your hips spread welcoming all of him you dig your heels into his lower back and you lean up to nip at his jaw. He jerks you back down onto the bed with one of his large hands he grabs your wrists and with the other he grips at your hip. Letting out another moan you move your hips to meet his.

"Fuck." You let out. Without thinking he pulls from you and flips you over hiking your hips up he presses into you thrusting up a bit as he pulls your arms behind you using them to glide in and out of you feeling you grip around him his grunting and groaning becomes very distracting as he thrusts with this great ease, feeling him as he essentially owns your body at that moment, him using you for his satisfaction.

Screaming his name, screaming out in pleasure he wraps an arm around your waist the other in your hair pulling you close to him while he pumps his cock in such a way that drives you crazy, hitting that spot against the front of your pelvis he groans with the pressure he's feeling in return, your legs begin to quake as he gets rougher, faster, harder. Moaning loudly he finishes with this burst of energy that fills the room. You scream through your own finish and drop to the bed. He falls next to you and you turn over to cuddle with him.

In a brief moment, he had fallen asleep, per usual. With a small chuckle, your fingers trace over his scars, watching him sleep he seems so peaceful. You slowly get out of bed and put a robe on and sit in the chair just observing him while you pick up a few things around the room tidying up. You make your way back to the bed and climb in next to him. It wasn't but a moment that he wakes up and looks at you.

"You're beautiful in the candlelight." He speaks as he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses you softly. "Thank you for that." He states honestly and sweetly.

You smile looking at him. "Always a pleasure." you think a moment. "Tell me a story Puppy, tell me a story about this one." You asked running your finger delicately over one of his scars.

Tagging @luciferslittleastre

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eremiie · 4 years ago

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hii ! 🥺 could I ask for a scenarion with timeskip Armin and his s/o, she manages to get him to sneak off with her just so she could spend time with him and give him kisses? thank you sm! ❤️

a little bit more;

❥ armin x reader | fluff | 2k words | canonverse

❥ yes you can, i’m sorry that it took me a literal millennium to write this, but i hope you still see and enjoy this anon<3

"yeah, i'm not hungry today, i'm just gonna head to bed a little early." you told mikasa, her hold on your hand dropping.

"are you sure?" she replied, eyes studying yours, watching the way you pursed your lips and tried avoiding her gaze.

"mhm, yeah!"

"you don't look sick."

"i didn't say i was sick, i just wanted to get a little extra sleep in."

mikasa's gaze raked your figure before letting a silence wander over the two of you. she nodded her head, although something felt off to her she would let it go for the meantime, i mean— you couldn't be up to any harm, right?

once mikasa turned the corner you made your way towards the boys barracks, hoping to meet armin halfway in the hallway, your feet guiding you hastily.

that's when you spotted him, speaking to hange in the hallway, a slightly worried expression on his face that you could tell even from a distance. you made your way towards the two, grinning slightly once armin's eyes landed on you, his eyebrows lifting slightly in awe at the mere sight of you coming towards him, almost as if some relief was lifted off his shoulders. hange looked towards you as well, smiling and adjusting her glasses.

"______," armin said, his hands subconsciously reaching out to enlace in yours, hange looking down towards the entangled digits with another small smile before speaking.

"okay, i'll leave you two or whatever— i'm gonna catch dinner, wouldn't wanna miss that!" hange exclaimed patting you on your shoulder before pointing a finger towards armin. "and if you ever get a little time come see me so we can talk a bit more."

you and armin watched hange leave, you beginning to pull armin into a hug once she rounded the corner. "hi, armin." you said, brushing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes watching your nimble fingers smooth over the skin before letting them come back to your face with a half smile.

"hi, are you okay?"

you nodded your head, turning around towards the direction the commander went before turning back towards armin. "i'm fine, are you? what was that about?"

armin shrugged his shoulders, bringing a hand towards the buzzed hair on the side of his head, smoothing it over before letting it drop back down. "just titan stuff, and you know... the whole war, all of that." he let out a sigh, his hands squeezing yours a little more, a small frown detailing your face before you pulled him into a hug, your head burying into his neck.

"hey, let's skip dinner."

armin's hand rubbed up and down your back, his nose smelling your natural scent, bringing a sense of calm over him while he let out a small chuckle at your statement. "why?"

you let your arms squeeze him tighter, then pulling back a little to rest your chin on his shoulder, the blonde hairs on his nape tickling your cheek. "i want to spend some time with you, we can go out for a little, just take a little walk."

"how about we spend time in the dining hall together, while eating dinner? am i not talking to you enough? or—"

"no, no armin, you're okay," you giggled, pulling back and pecking a kiss to the tip of his nose, letting your warm hands come up to grab his cheeks, while you looked into his pretty blue eyes— the ocean he always longed to see were a mirror of them. "i just want to spend some time with you like i said, we can just walk and talk and take a breather." you let go of his cheek with one of your hands, letting it drift up to run through his hair, feeling the silk like locks run between your fingers while he let his head tilt more into your palm.

"i want to, but i don't know... people might ask where we are,"

"armin, we'll be okay. we won't take long, just the two of us for a little bit, let's just forget everything for a little."

armin let his eyes meet yours again, pulling the hand in his hair out before pressing a kiss to it. the kiss felt more like him simply pressing his lips to your skin, letting it linger a little before pulling away, watching your smile grow wide causing him to reciprocate. "okay."

so you pulled armin along, your hand gravitating back towards him as you grasped it in yours and led the way down the hall, your pace quickening once you spotted the large doors that would lead you to the outdoors. you turned your head around to face armin as he stumbled after you, you dragging him towards the door. "sh!" you joked as you carefully opened the door with your back, causing armin to smile a warm smile that made your heart flutter while he caught up beside you once the doors shut.

"i'm gonna take you to the trail we used to run laps on."

"okay."

"you're not gonna ask why the trail?" armin reciprocated your movements earlier, rubbing your knuckles as your hands both felt clammy from holding onto each other for so long; as if one of you would disappear the minute you let go.

"if it's special to you, i like it too."

you looked down to your feet watching you and armin's feet move toe in toe as you made your way down to the trail before looking back up to the sky that was quickly darkening, the sun venturing to hide behind the many mountains and large wall keeping you captive. if you turned around and looked closely you'd be able to see the moon fighting to appear in the sky as well, but you didn't you kept your eyes trained on the scenery in front of you instead, then to armin; his cheeks slightly flushed, red focused on the tip of his nose while his blonde hair blew like dandelion seeds once you would make your wish. he had a permanent smile in your presence that you absolutely adored and you unconsciously leaned closer into him, saxe eyes fixating on you from the side. "well, it's special because one time when levi made me run laps i took a break without him knowing since he head inside. there's an area that leads to a little hill. there are some pretty flowers over there, wanna see?"

"_____... you're gonna take me anyways. but yes, for you, even though we shouldn't even be out here."

"that's what i like to hear." you kissed his shoulder, your lips being met with the metal shoulder of his uniform, but he could tell your intentions anyways. "diverge from the trail, up the side." you used your clasped hands and the push of your body to guide armin off the track, and he obliged stepping off the dusty surface and into the grass that was having a hard time growing near the track, yet the further the two of you walked up, the more the grass climbed your legs.

"you see the flowers in the distance?" you watched armin's neck peer up trying to spot a burst of color in the green field, his eyes widening and lighting up like sparks when he saw the array of flowers get closer, tickseeds littering the grass.

"yeah, i can... i actually can, i see them!" armin's pace quickened him this time pulling you forward as the two of you strode towards the pretty yellow flowers, armin collapsing at his feet once the two of you met the most densest group of them, pulling you down with him.

"pretty right?"

"yeah, of course, i like them." he said as he let his free hand brush through the field, his past worries of getting caught lingering only in the back of his mind. he plucked one of the flowers, twirling the plant in his hand before pulling you forward by your hand that he still was holding onto before finally letting go, the cool breeze washing over your warm hand while he brought your face forward, wonder swirling behind his eyes, placing the decoration behind your ear. "wow.."

you pursed your lips as he studied your face, bringing your hand up to touch the flower, then touching armin's face. "you too," your hands maneuvered in the flowers until you pulled one up as well, placing it behind armin's ear. his hand laid on top of yours near his ear in pure awe, more at the sight of you adorned with nature than at your actions.

"you're so beautiful." he murmured.

you didn't respond, pulling him in for a chaste kiss, your lips meeting his softly as both of your eyes closed, relishing in the feeling of your lips touching together.

"______..." armin's eyes fluttered as you pulled away slightly, the red on his face only growing while he settled his hands in your lap.

and with that you pressed another kiss to his nose, forehead, cheek, the other, and lastly his tinted lips again. you could practically feel the butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach at the mere gesture you were making, and you knew armin could feel them too, just by the bashful expression gracing his face before he pulled you into another hug. "beautiful." he repeated.

"'wanna kiss you again." you muttered into his uniform as your arms dangled around his neck, pushing him down until he fell backwards, blonde locks bouncing framing his face, whilst you straddled him.

"well... you were just doing it, i don't see why you're asking me now." armin let his arms travel down yours, from your shoulder down to the ground below him, trying to hide his slight nervousness he still felt despite the countless times you've landed in this position with him.

"shush." and you leaned down, attacking him in more kisses, letting your lips decorate his skin, the constant smooching sound making armin giggle as you trailed your pecks across his jaw, to his neck, back up to his lips, always ending there.

"okay, okay, my turn." armin tucked the flower further behind your ear before it could slip then grasped your face with his palms, leaning you down to press his mouth to yours a little more fervent than you, letting you indulge in the kiss, gripping the grass and pulling a couple stray weeds up before coming up for air and letting out a shudder.

you closed your eyes and laid your head against his chest, squeezing them tight, trying to relish in the moment for as long as possible before the words could escape armin's mouth.

"we have to go now, the sun set, dinner's almost over."

you didn't even look up, you knew the sun had set, but you didn't want to see for yourself as it would confirm that, yes; it was time for the two of you to go. your hand trailed down to grab armin's and place it around your waist. "i love you."

"i love you too, _____."

"i love you, i love you, i love you, i love..." armin's hold on your waist tightened.

"i love you too... we have to go."

"i don't want to go."

with a sigh, armin reluctantly picked himself up you still on top of him. "i don't either, if i could, i'd stay here with you and put flowers behind your ear all day. i would kiss you all day, and not worry about any duties, any war, or... anybody else. but that's not how it is yet... i will come back out here though— with you, another time, okay?"

you untucked your face from where it was buried in armin's chest as he patted your back for you to stand up with him, and you did, letting him pull you by your hands before repeating himself more solemnly. "okay?"

"okay."

a little bit more duties, a little bit more war, then you could spend some more time in the pretty yellow field with your pretty boy.

#armin arlert #snk armin #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin fluff #armin arlert fluff #armin x reader fluff #armin arlert x reader fluff #attack on titan

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after-witch · 4 years ago

Text

Take Flight [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Title: Take Flight [Yandere Nikolai Gogol x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re a fantastic actress when you’re on the stage. But your captor isn’t fooled when there’s no stage magic to hide your real feelings.

For request: request for anything with BSD!Gogol please!

Word Count: 1772

notes: Yandere, kidnapped, noncon implications, implied torture/physical abuse

You look so beautiful when you’re immobile. Especially when you don’t know what you’ve done to deserve it, when your eyes are widened in fear, your mouth whimpering behind the tight cloth gag; your mind no doubt racing, searching for what you’ve done and why this is happening.

You look especially beautiful when he opens his coat and pulls out a few tools. He deliberately lays the hammer on the far end of the table, next to your feet. Now that makes you beautiful, as you cry out as much as possible behind the gag, some drool making its way past the increasingly soaked cloth your chin. Your muffled “no” is music.

He hates to clip your wings like this. But it’s only temporary. And, really, you’ve brought it upon yourself. Not by acting up--oh, no, definitely not that. He smiles to himself as he thinks about what a good birdie you’ve been lately. How obedient. How submissive. How sweet.

It took a lot of effort. A lot of punishment. A lot of pain. But on the surface, you’ve transformed into the sweet swan that he’s dreamed about keeping in a gilded cage. Literally and otherwise. Of course, he’s not that easily fooled--he knows you still hate him, fear him, on the inside. No matter how much you embrace him or let him have his way with you, no matter how much you try to please him with words and kisses, you’re still fighting him in your heart. Beating against your cage with your wings when his back is turned, as it were.

And you know something? It’s just not good enough. His life is already a game of duality. And he wants only a singularity with you, a single reality where you are broken and his for however long he wants to keep you. What would be the point of throwing you away when you’re still fighting him?

And thus, it’s only fitting that you’re currently bound to the table where you’ve received your other punishments. He’s not much of a cleaner, and there’s still the odd blood stain lodged in the wood grains. A handy table with straps on each end that keep your wrists and ankle immobile. He’s even given you a pillow, because why not, why not?

It’s easier when you’re tied up to see the real you underneath, the desperate, terrified person that only wants to stay alive. That only wants to avoid pain. The remnants of blood stains underneath you are a testament to that.

You do put on a good show, otherwise. But not quite up to par, he admits, hence his critical review. If he was a theater critic, he might call your efforts “valiant, but not worthy of the highest acclaim.” Or perhaps “They clearly need a little more time to develop, but it’s a good effort.”

You can kiss him. You can perform for him. You can let him touch you and hurt you, when he wants, without complaint. But you can’t hide all of the little things that give you real state of mind away. The way your jaw trembles ever so slightly when you stand up on your toes (so precious) to give him a kiss. The quarter-second that your eyes drift away before you tell him you love him, you adore him, you never want to leave him. The slight hint of revulsion, always covered with a smile in an instant, when he enters your cage at night.

Did you think you’re fooling him? He hopes you did. He loves the idea of snatching the rug from underneath your feet, nimble as they may be. You’re good at acting on the stage--he could wax poetry about how ethereal, how in-the-moment you look when you’re dancing; when you’re practically flying across the stage, your tulle skirts swishing and the thin soles of your shoes slapping against the hard floor.

But when you’re off the stage? The magic is lessened. There are no stage lights to cover up your occasional tired expression, no swelling music to add emphasis to your movements if they become too strained. No stage tricks to hide your face from the audience for a moment of reprieve. It is no good, after all, for Odile to seduce the prince with her arms, her legs, the fierceness of her fouettes--if her face gives away that she finds him repellent.

Without the trickery of the stage, you give yourself away. Which is one reason why he’s decided to be oh-so-cruel to you today. The other? He’ll never tell you. Maybe you’ll guess it someday, if you happen to glimpse the expression he holds as you pirouette across the stage, no limits, no boundaries, only the music and the motion and the buzz of the audience to lift you up high.

But, he muses, picking up the hammer--the noises you’re making, oh, how fun!--it’s time to get back to the task at hand.

“Or at foot,” he says, giggling. But you don’t get the joke. He approaches the head of the table and your muffled pleas grow louder. They’re so soft, so confused. What did you do? What did you do? Please, please, please. He’s heard it all before, but it’s still enjoyable to take in. Like a comforting book.

He trails a gloved finger along your cheek, spreading your tears around like a child tracing lines on a foggy car window.

“I know you want to fly away from me.” He keeps his tone light and teasing. You immediately shake your head in denial, and Christ in heaven is that fantastic, the way you want him to believe you no longer desire escape, no longer desire true freedom.

He tuts at you, wagging the tip of his gloved finger in front of your face before leaning in closer. “If I let you fly away, would you still be my pet? If you fly away on your own, would you be free?” It’s rhetorical, and your expression betrays your lack of understanding behind his words.

He does want to hear your voice behind the gag, so he swiftly undoes the tight knot and tosses the soaked fabric aside.

“Please, I love you,” you say immediately, voice weak and pleading. “Nik--Nikolai, I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?” You hesitate for a moment, but then you continue. “I’m so sorry, whatever it is. I must have… disappointed you.” You lower your eyes and the downcast expression, the defeat in your gaze, makes him wish he had a camera on hand.

You’re so submissive. It really is beautiful. But you’re submissive because you want to avoid being hurt. You’re submissive because he’s got a hammer resting next to your precious feet and you don’t want him to lift up that hammer and bash your bones until they break.

Where’s the fun in that?

He hums to himself as he begins a deliberately slow walk back to the end of the table. He trails his fingers down your body and enjoys the sight of little goosebumps rising on your flesh, enjoys the way you squirm, just a bit, when he pokes at your sensitive side.

When he picks up the hammer, you begin to babble. The words aren’t important--he’s listening to the tone, the way your voice is thick with sadness and fear. Please, no, don’t, I’ll do anything; all words that run from your mouth like water through a stream. He ignores them and instead holds one of your feet still with his hand. There’s a power in your feet, thanks to the years of dancing and even more years of training. He thinks about taking that power away. About what that would mean. About what it would do to you.

When he rubs the end of the hammer against the top of your foot, you groan, a guttural sound of pure horror. The sound of someone whose entire reason for living, whose heartbeat, rests on the ability to dance.

Your breath is sharp and scratchy when he suddenly lifts the hammer up and brings it crashing down on your ankle--where it immediately compresses and squeaks, high and childish.

It’s rubber. It’s a rubber toy. Nothing more.

Your breath comes out in short, harsh puffs. He takes in your expression, which is at once horrified and confused and relieved and even a bit angry.

“What--”

His sharp, pleased laughter interrupts you. And when he laughs, you laugh, just a little. He’s surprised that he can’t tell if it’s a genuine laugh of pure relief, an attempt to mimic him to stay in his good graces, or a sign that you’re losing your mind. Maybe it’s a mixture of all three.

He wastes no time in undoing your straps, and he pulls you into a sitting position. Your entire body is trembling, an adrenaline crash turning your legs to rubber as he helps you to your feet and loops your arm around his shoulders for added support.

You don’t even have time to process the fact that he didn’t hurt you before he starts leading you out of the room and back to your pretty little cage and your pretty little bed. He drops you on the bed with a flourish, and you bounce slightly on the mattress--face still in shock, still processing.

“That was fun, right?” he says, voice once again teasing. “Now let’s play a little more.” He begins undoing his belt buckle, and what would have been the normal flash of revulsion on your face is replaced by something new: relief. Relief that you can dance? Relief that you didn’t earn any new scars, any new injuries, any new pain? He’s not sure that the exact reason matters. It’s something new, and it’s a step closer.

He grins and begins making quick work of his clothes. You’re already on your knees in front of him.

Relief, after all, comes in many forms.

#yandere #yandere nikolai gogol #yandere bungou stray dogs #nikolai gogol x reader #yandere x reader #afterwitch writes

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tommybaholland · 4 years ago

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“my anxiety isn’t that bad” aka little habits their s/o has that they help to try to relieve

featuring: kuroo, kenma, akaashi and bokuto

inspired by this post. this is not to try to romanticize anxiety and/or mental illness! hopefully this will help anyone who experiences any of these behaviors and possibly provide some distraction with your fav hq boys! hope you enjoy <3

kuroo

winter is beautiful, but the dryness it caused to your lips was definitely a low point. especially when the uncomfortable feeling of the chapped skin against your upper lip was enough to make you vigorously pick at it. sometimes you pick at them so much the skin breaks and bleeds a little.

it hurts but it’s never really bothered you that much. however, kuroo had to say something after tasting the liquid metal on your lips.

“kitten, have you been picking at your lips again?”

“... you’ve noticed?”

“of course, sweetheart. i think you do it more than you know.” he holds your chin while pulling your lower lip down to see the little scabs along with a fresh spot with dots of blood painting the skin.

“oh kitten,” he frowned. “you don’t have to tell me but i want to better understand why you do this to yourself. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

“it’s okay, tetsu. i dunno why i do it. like you said, it’s kind of second nature at this point. but i guess it mostly happens when i’m thinking about something. i’m sorry if it worried you..”

“no, no, no kitten. you don’t have to be sorry,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your head. “but thank you for telling me. now what’s got this pretty little mind so mixed up that those pretty lips are bleeding, hm?”

it was always something different but nevertheless, you were constantly worrying about something. and if you didn’t worry about it, something bad or inconvenient would happen.

“i’m sorry you feel that way, babe,” he soothed, the tips of his fingers drumming on the middle of your back. “you can tell me about anything that’s bothering you...or i can get you some chapstick so everytime you feel like picking you can just put that on and eventually it’ll replace the habit!”

“but for now...lemme distract you with some kisses,” he spoke against your lips. “mmm, c’mere gorgeous.”

kenma

you liked playing games with kenma but sometimes you just liked to sit and watch him as he played. until one hour would become two, two became three. boy could play for literal hours on end, no matter who was with him or the time of day. so it could get a little tiring after a while and you could feel the urge to do something else, something a little more active.

your leg began to bounce against the edge of his bed.

“y/n, you’re doing it again,” his soft voice spoke up, his attention unbroken from the tv.

“oh sorry, ken. just feeling a bit restless.”

you moved off the bed and onto the floor, resting up against the side of the frame so your leg bouncing wouldn’t bother him.

kenma played for a few more minutes before completing another stage, sighing with sudden boredom. he then looked over to see that you had disappeared.

“y/n?.....there you are,” peeking over the side of the bed to see you playing on your phone. “what’re you doing on the floor?”

“my leg started bouncing a lot and i didn’t want to bother you.”

he sighed before reaching out his hand. “c’mon snuggles. get up here.”

you took his invitation and climbed back up onto the bed where he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling him.

“you know, you never bother me,” he grinned. “but you can let me know if you wanna go do something, okay?”

you nodded, copying his grin before giving him a few small kisses and pulling him into a hug.

“do you want to go for a walk? we could go to the park or something.”

you agreed immediately, ready to stretch your legs a bit. you excitedly climbed out of his lap, stretching as soon as your feet hit the floor.

he smiled and chuckled softly at your sudden perkiness. “okay, let’s go cutie.”

akaashi

you always had your phone on you. you never went anywhere without it and never missed any notifications you would receive, even if it was a dumb spam email. and if you didn’t have you phone, well--

“keiji, where’s my phone?” you asked your boyfriend while feeling around the couch to see if it had fallen in between the cushions.

“what’s wrong, baby? aren’t you enjoying the movie?”

“i am but i just need to— you have it don’t you?”

a smirk crept up on his pretty face as if he was trying not to laugh. “i don’t know what you’re talking about—whoa baby.”

he giggled as your hands began patting him down, trying to locate the device.

“please kaashi, i need it—”

“baby, stop. you know i’m ticklish,” he grabbed your wrists to cease your movement. “why do you need it so bad?”

“i just wanna check it, you know, to make sure i haven’t missed anything or anyone’s tried to reach me.”

his hands released your wrists and found their way around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “baby, i promise you, nothing’s happened. everything is okay.”

“but how do you know?”

he reached behind him and pulled out the thing you were looking for. “because it hasn’t vibrated once. do you want it back?”

“yes, thank you-- wait...please tell me it wasn’t down your pants.”

another smirk appeared. “maybe...you’d have to find out for yourself.”

“okay nevermind, you can keep it,” you replied, moving off him.

he captured you back into his arms before handing you your phone. “no, no baby, i’m just kidding,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek. “you’re so cute.”

bokuto

“babeeeeee, can we please stop for a minute? my feet are about to fall off.”

and hiking was his idea.

“i thought i was with one of the top five aces in the nation, but it seems like you’re out of shape to me,” you teased, looking back to your boyfriend.

“ i am NOT out of shape, babe,” he retorts. “besides, maybe i’m just enjoying the view..”

“okay, i’m really about to leave you behind--”

“i’m kidding! i’m sorry, beautiful. you do walk very fast though and to be honest, i really underestimated your stride.”

“i always walk like this, kou.”

he jogs to catch up with you, taking your hand in his. “i know, babe. but can we please take a break? my feet do hurt.”

you finally agree and he leads you off the trail. you sit down on dry ground, where the light was hitting just right.

“move over here, lemme put my arm around you.”

you move over into his side, wrapping an arm around his torso. the scene was rather picturesque: wind softly blowing through the trees, birds chirping and the sound of flowing water from the lake in front of you.

“see, isn’t this nice? so now you can rest your pretty legs,” he remarks, rubbing a hand over your thigh.

“you know, i love that you’re into being active and i was so excited when you agreed to come on this hike with me. but we’re not in any rush..it’s okay to slow down.”

“i’m sorry--”

“no need to apologize, babe. it’s okay,” he reassures, rubbing your shoulder. “but also i just don’t know how to keep up with you. i’m fully admitting it: my s/o is a badass.”

“well, yeah, maybe i’m just trying to keep you on your toes, literally,” you laugh. “but i’ll try to take everything in a little more. i definitely don’t want to miss anything with you.”

you try to resist when he attempts to bear hug you. “nooo, i’m all sweaty. kou, stop.”

“it’s okay, i like that you’re sweaty. actually, i love it.”

you giggle as he begins to kiss your neck, nibbling lightly on the skin. “okay, now it’s your turn to slow down, big boy.”

hellooooo haikyuu night! requests very much welcome

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo blurb #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma blurb #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #akaashi blurb #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #bokuto blurb #tommybaholland

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hornime · 4 years ago

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twinkle tits | tanaka saeko x gn!reader

she laughed again, causing a strangely warm feeling to bubble in your stomach. “i like you, you don’t take anyone’s shit.” her expression turned darker. “i’d love to break you.”

warnings: 18+, timeskip!saeko, kinda dom!saeko, titty sucking, mentions of unsafe driving

w/c: 1.8k

a/n: furudate told me that it’s canon that saeko has tit piercings in the timeskip.

you grumbled in annoyance as a red chrome motorcycle cut in front of you on the highway, forcing you to slam on the brakes and hold down your horn, probably for a bit longer than was necessary. as you both decelerated to stop at a red light, the rider, visage hidden by a mysterious black helmet with a tinted shield, turned back to look at you, making you seize up behind the steering wheel.

they seemed to think something over and rotated back to face forward on the seat, before raising their right hand and flipping you off.

are you serious? you thought. you’re the one who cut in front of me.

all you wanted was to give this person a piece of your mind, but you knew that 1) road rage just wasn’t worth it and 2) doing so would do nothing but make your commute unnecessarily complicated. it was one of those mondays, and the last thing you needed was to get pissed off before getting morning coffee in your system. all you wanted to do was forget about the incident and move on with your day.

unfortunately, the fates weren’t keen on making that happen.

to your frustration, the annoying bike, with, to your newfound knowledge, the even more annoying rider, turned into the lot of your office building, parking in front of a recently sold lot, which was conveniently located right next to your workplace. you debated for a second over where to park, for all you knew, this biker could be crazy or something, but you decided that, at this point, you really didn’t care.

you turned off your engine, gathered what you needed for the day, and stepped out of your car, intending to look straight ahead and get through the doors of your building with as little conflict as possible. thoughts bounced around in your head as the revving of the motorcycle a few spots away quieted: don’t engage, don’t engage, don’t enga—

“hey! you!” a voice called out. you cursed internally, before spinning your head towards the yell.

a woman with brown eyes that glinted dangerously and blonde hair that shone in the early sun was tapping her foot, the incessant click of her black stiletto on the concrete becoming more and more irritating. stiletto? you thought. how the hell was she wearing stilettos on a motorcycle?

your eyes couldn’t help but trail downwards towards her chest, her crossed arms accentuating her soft, leather-clad curves. as you were distracted by her body, she walked up to you, snapping a pair of red nails in your face and bringing back to reality.

“hey,” she insisted, a hint of amusement evident in her voice. “my eyes are up here.”

you looked up, embarrassed at being caught ogling her, and made eye contact. shit, you thought, losing yourself in her sharp features. she’s really hot. suddenly, you remembered what this crazy lady had put you through: and she almost made me crash. “hey,” you responded tersely. “who the hell taught you how to drive?”

you cringed at your bluntness, so much for avoiding conflict, while she raised an eyebrow in challenge, a spunky smile turning her lips up. “who taught me how to drive? what about you? you barely checked if anyone was gonna turn in.”

you chuckled in astonishment. there was no way this bitch was trying to flip this on you. “you’re kidding right? you drive like a literal madwoman.” you thought back, in hindsight, maybe you hadn’t looked to see if anyone was coming, but that wasn’t the point! isn’t it her job to be a defensive driver?

she threw her head back and laughed, a strangely charming sound for how loud and taunting it was. “yeah, i get that a lot. too fast, too reckless, and too cocky. i think it makes life more interesting.”

“well, i think it almost killed me.”

“lighten up,” she snarked, digging the tip of her pointer finger into your chest. “you look like someone that takes life too seriously. you gotta take a risk sometime!”

“a risk that might send me into my grave,” you deadpanned, “no thanks.”

she laughed again, causing a strangely warm feeling to bubble in your stomach. “i like you, you don’t take anyone’s shit.” her expression turned darker. “i’d love to break you.”

you flinched at her change in tone. what?

“well,” she continued. “i gots’ta go. lots of lives to ruin! yours is just one of many.”

you called out as she swiveled to walk away. “wait!” she cocked her head towards you. “where d’you work?”

she gestured to the lot she’d parked in front of. “saeko’s cycles. i’m saeko and i sell cycles. motorcycles. ‘s a work in progress. you?”

you nodded at the building next to hers. “there.”

she approached you again, extending her fingers to dance on your shoulder, sending hot chills down your spine. “we’re work neighbors then.” she grinned devilishly. “guess i’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

you gulped. she really was hot.

“guess you will.”

you both went your separate ways.

for the next few days, the pattern repeated: saeko would cut you off, you’d honk, she’d flip you off, and you’d engage in some banter before heading off to work. you looked forward to interacting with the driving demon everyday; you thought about her throughout the day, on the way home, at night in your bed with nothing more than your imagination, your hand, and an incessant ache for sex... she was driving you crazy.

on saturday morning, you grumbled at the sound of your alarm: you had to drop off some paperwork at the office. reluctantly leaving your bed, you drove your way to the building. a scarlet flash caught your eye, and you were surprised to see saeko’s motorcycle parked in its usual spot. why’s she here? it’s saturday. after completing your task, you reached for the handle of your car door, then stopped. saeko’s probably working in her shop, you thought. it’d be nice to stop by.

you peered in the doorway, hearing the clattering of what you presumed to be tools coming from the back. “saeko?” you called, making your way through shelves of biking equipment and gear. “it’s me.”

the blonde poked her head out from the other side of a muddied motorcycle, hair pushed back with a headband. “hey!” she stood up, wiping her hands on a damp cloth, approaching you in a red-lined vest and a black headband. she looked dressed up, almost for a performance.

“what’s with the getup?”

“oh,” she said, looking down as if she’d just noticed what she was wearing. “taiko clothes.” at your confused expression, she clarified: “taiko’s a kind of japanese drumming. i’m captain of a local team. this,” she pointed at her vest, “is a happi. and this,” she tugged at the headband, “is a hachimaki. i just came back from rehearsal.”

you stood, speechless. she looked really good in those clothes, but you were sure that she’d look even better with them off.

she cleared her throat. “you have a nasty habit of zoning out on my tits. like what you see that much?”

your eyes shot back up to her, the heat of humiliation creeping up your neck. “um, uh. i-i...”

she chuckled at your shame. “no it’s okay, i like the attention.” her gaze turned predatory. “and i like you, too.”

within an instant, saeko was on you, your mouths melding together in a raunchy and needy kiss, tongues clashing passionately. lips locked within each other, she guided your movements, leading you to a small room at the back of the shop.

suddenly, she shoved you off of her, raising her leg so that the toe of her black stiletto teased lightly at your crotch. she gently increased the pressure, causing you to yelp in surprise—and an odd form of pleasure.

“why don’t you take a seat, babe?” the pet name made you shiver. saeko continued pushing you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the leather of a swivel chair, and you fell onto it.

eyes wide with lust and lips bruised with her animalistic desire, she thought you looked absolutely perfect, gazing up at her with a look of pure want. her eyes narrowed as she approached, towering over you. her hand grazed your throat before grabbing it. her hachimaki was hanging off the top of her head haphazardly, and she reached up and took it off, placing it on a neighboring table. she did the same with her happi, leaving you with an enticing view of her top half, clad in nothing but a lacy black bralette.

you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her, fervently tracing her delicious breasts. the area over her nipple was covered in a mesh fabric, and you could see—was that silver?

your head jerked up in shock. “you have tit piercings?”

“hell yeah i do,” she teased, climbing onto your lap and spreading her lags on either side of your knees. in this position, her bust was at your face-level, the barbells sparkling hypnotically. “you like?”

you swallowed dryly, convinced that she knew exactly what she was doing: spurring on your already overwhelming desperation for her body. “...yeah,” you whispered breathlessly. “i like ‘em a lot.”

she crossed her arms and lifted the erotic undergarment over her head, bare flesh now tantalizingly close to your mouth. “give ‘em a taste then.”

she didn’t have to tell you twice. your lips swiftly latched onto her right nipple, tongue swirling around the bud, and you moaned at the metallic taste of the piercing. you raised your thumb to play with the other one, and she gasped at the contact.

“you—you’re really good at this,” she panted. “you look cute like this. all needy for my tits.”

you mewled at her praise, releasing her nipple with a pop! and moving your mouth to work the other one. “i like you, saeko,” you mumbled into her skin. “i don’t even mind that you’re a shitty driver.” you looked up at her, eyes blown wide with arousal. “you’re really cool.”

“yeah, yeah, i know,” she giggled. unexpectedly, she pushed her body off of you and landed on her feet.

“why?” you pouted, trying, and failing, to conceal your disappointment, mouth feeling empty.

“oh, stop whining,” she chided, pulling her clothes back on. she motioned to a nearby motorcycle helmet on the corner of her desk. “put that on.”

“wha-where are we going?”

she sighed, kneeling to scrub some dirt off her shoe. “i know i said i’d break you, but i didn’t realize you’d get this dumb just from some sucking. we’re going to my place.”

she turned to glance at you, ravenous gaze reflecting her intense desire. “and once we get there, we’re gonna have a lot more fun. if we survive the drive, of course.”

you let out a sigh of amused exasperation. she’s gonna kill me.

#feeling ultra super gay today #for one woman only #this one #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #hq saeko #saeko x you #saeko x reader #saeko tanaka #saeko x y/n #saeko

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magalidragon · 3 years ago

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paris is always a good idea | a Jonerys Drabble

Thank you @youwerenevermine for my wonderful birthday gift, I love it so much and I love Paris so much and Jonerys and you for making this for me so I felt inspired and wrote a quick little drabble thing, lol. It’s only the fourth time I’ve written Jonerys in a modern, non-Westeros world, but it was fun! And I wanna’ go back so much! Paris, je t’aime!

They met while in university, oddly enough, as fate would have it, on her birthday.

She had been there to study art, for a year abroad, savoring every last second wandering the wide, arched hallways of the Louvre, staring at grand masters for hours on end, burning the vibrant colors and mesmerizing brushstrokes into her memory, wishing she could be as good as them one day. One day, someone would have her art in their house, and proudly boast they'd gotten it back when she was but a nobody, painting on the streets or in the grassy parks.

Since it was her birthday, she decided to treat herself, and instead of heading straight to the university to get some time in the studio, she decided to get an ice cream at Berthillon, heading to the Ile-St-Louis instead of to the metro, taking her time to admire, as she often did, the glory of Notre Dame, it’s gargoyles and buttresses.

At the glacier she took her time selecting a flavor, did not even mind paying the exorbitant price and shouldered through tourists taking refuge from a cold rain that had begun to fall. She savored it, the clean water bouncing off her peat coat and the beanie she’d tugged over her silver hair.

She was about to set off, to eat her ice cream and wander into the Marais, perhaps drop down into the Latin Quarter— maybe take a trip to Chanel or Dior or Celine to admire the creations she couldn’t afford— when her ice cream went flying, straight onto the wet sidewalk. Where a mass of pidgins attacked it with gusto.

“Merde! Faites attention!” she shouted, stomping her Doc Marten on the ground in petulant annoyance.

The man who had bumped her because he’d been roughhousing with another friend had been apologetic. He bought her another and said his name was Robb Stark. He was from Scotland, was on spring break with his buddies, which she didn’t care about. To apologize he invited her for a drink, especially when the worker who she’d told it was her birthday had commented on it again when she got another ice cream.

She figured why not? He was attractive, sorry, and nice enough so she agreed, although she had commented his French was terrible best to speak English. “You’re English?” he had teased.

“Half and half,” she answered. English father, French mother.

At the comptoir where she suggested they meet, in Montmartre, she brought her roommate Missandei and Missandei’s boyfriend Grey. It was just a drink and they’d leave and go to the dinner Missandei planned to take her to anyway.

Except that’s where she met him.

The dark, brooding figure at the tiny table in the corner, ignoring Robb and Robb’s friend Theon, and a couple others, favoring silence and his drink. He was in all black, barely acknowledging her and slipped out for a smoke when Robb began to shamelessly flirt. She didn’t care about Robb, she cared about him.

Jon.

She exited, saw him lighting a cigarette against a lap post. She flicked her coat collar up and sidled towards him. “Puis-j’en avoir un?”

“Sorry I don’t speak,” he began, and his eyes— black in the orange lamplight glow— flicking to her. He smiled gently “French.”

She smiled and repeated her question in English. “Can I have one? A smoke that is?”

He stuck the cigarette between his pouty, sinful lips, framed with a cropped dark beard, and reached into his coat pocket, removing a pack. She took one delicately and he lit it, cupping his hands around the tip so the wind didn’t blow it out.

A stream of smoke escaped her nostrils when she puffed and she smiled up at him, hoping he got the hint. “Do you like Paris?”

“Not especially.”

“Aw come on,” she teased. She hummed, closing her eyes and taking in the cold night. The electric buzz is people on the street and at the cafes and bars around them. “Paris is always a good idea.”

“Someone famous said that.”

“Audrey Hepburn.”

He sucked on the cigarette and smiled, a tiny one, the curve of his lip sly rather than shy. “You aren’t in there with the rest of them.”

“Because it’s my birthday and I want to do what I want to do.” She stubbed the cigarette out on the post and turned, disposing it in the bin by the door. A quick text to Missandei: I’m going to skip dinner, I think I have a date, she turned and studied him. “I’m…”

“Dany,” he said. He shrugged, finishing his smoke. “I remember.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were listening when Robb introduced me.”

“I was.” He pulled the tartan scarf around his neck tighter. He glanced towards Sacré-Cœur, illuminated white in the lights around its base. He smirked at her. “You going back in?”

She shook her head. “No,” she drawled. She followed his gaze to Sacré-Cœur. “Have you been up there?”

“No.”

“You should. Some of the best views of Paris.”

He chuckled, voice tight. “You should invite Robb.”

“I think he might be a third wheel.”

It took him a second, the gears in his mind turning, understanding what she was saying. He cocked his head. His black curls were in a mess around his face. A few scattered rain drops landed on them, and he shook it free like a dog. Or a wolf, she thought, noting the animal embroidered on the edge of his scarf.

He narrowed his eyes again. “I told you I don’t really like Paris.”

“Why?”

“It’s loud. Busy. Dirty.”

She laughed. “Every city is like that but in Paris it’s different.”

“Why?”

Her bravado got the better of her and she stepped towards him, linking her arm through his. If he didn’t get it now, he was a stupid fool who deserved it when she kicked him into the gutter. “Because,” she murmured, rising to her toes, trying to gaze as directly as she could into his eyes, which she now saw were actually gray. His breathing quickened. “You’re with me.”

The wolf got the point with that comment. He allowed her to keep her arm around his and lead him towards the cathedral. They spoke of nothing and anything on the long walk through Montmartre to the highest point in the city.

He was in Paris for a research trip. He was studying medieval weapons and was going out to Bayeux to study some relics. His cousin Robb and friends came along for the free trip. They spoke about being starving artists in their field-- her literally an artist as it were. They talked about Paris-- how much he disliked it, how much she adored it. The top of Sacre-Coeur might have changed his mind, but he pretended he still didn’t get the appeal, so she dragged him back down to the streets, to her favorite all-night boulangerie, into the metro and across town to the Eiffel Tower, spinning in circles on the Champs du Mars. They ran across the Pont-de-la-Concorde and across the Tullieries. They wandered down the Seine, smoked cigarettes in the doorsteps of old buildings in the Latin Quarter, and drank cheap wine in one of the tourist-cafes near the Jardin du Luxembourg.

They meandered back through the streets, the city oddly quiet, the rain stopping, and she brought him to her garret studio in the Bastille, up the six flights of stairs to the top of the building, where she shed her coat and boots adn scratched her fat cat Drogon’s ears, leading him to the wrought-iron bars in one of the four windows she had, pushing the window open and crawling out, up onto the roof where she wanted to show him something.

“Look,” she directed, when he climbed up next to her-- less gracefully-- pointing to the lit-up Eiffel Tower.

He cursed under his breath. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s my favorite place in Paris. The rent is steep, but it’s worth it for this.” She chuckled. “And it has the best view.”

He whispered. “Yes, it does.”

And to her surprise, since she didn’t realize the time, the tower began to twinkle, the 20,000 lights across its metal beams flickering and she glanced sideways; he wasn’t watching the tower, but her face. She arched her brows. “You know, the lights twinkle for five minutes every hour, on the hour.” She smiled and shrugged, whispering. “It’s a sign that you’re supposed to return to Paris.”

Instead of saying anything, like how silly that was, he leaned in and cupped her face in his wide palm, callused and warm, bringing her face to meet his, kissing gently, in the twinkly glow of the lights. He pulled back a moment later, breathing, “I think I like Paris. And you’er right...this place has the best view.” His eyes were wide on hers, focused. She chuckled, nodding in agreement, and pulled him back to her for another kiss.

That night she savored every moment with him, as they pulled each other’s clothes off slowly, kissing and touching, every smooth curve and muscle of each other, each hard ridge and plane of his strong, muscular body or her soft, lean one. He touched her and kissed her and stroked her in ways she’d never experienced, bringing her to heights she’d only dreamed about. It was intense, the lights behind her closed eyelids when she came, over and over, gripping his shoulders, hair, the bedframe behind her. He rose up and over her, in and out, their bodies moving as one, thrusting and arching.

She didn’t know if she’d see him again; if this was a one-time, romantic Parisian adventure, but in the morning when she woke, she found him coming back inside from getting pastries and coffees, the faintest scent of cigarettes and her toothpaste on his lips when he kissed her good morning.

They exchanged their information, vowing to speak daily, and he would see her when he got back from Bayeux. She couldn’t believe when he did call and he kept his word. “When you lie, words lose their meaning,” he’d explained, obviously reading her surprise.

And when her year ended in Paris, she found herself in London, back at university, dreaming of their magical time there, even when they made time for each other, going back and forth from London to Edinburgh; and he from Edinburgh to Paris during the last couple of months of her year there.

They made it a priority; every single year they spent time in Paris, like they were students again, on that magical night.

They grew older, no longer needing to find the cheapest drinks and cigarettes, or staying in studio garrets, eventually able to experience some of the best hotels and restaurants the city had to offer, as he sold books and became a well-known author and professor, and her dream of becoming a famous artist came true, when sure enough, someone bought one of her paintings on the side of the Seine, someone who happened to be an art dealer in New York.

It was their city, where they met, and where they could remember.

After they married, about fifteen years after that fateful birthday, they visited again, and spun together on the Pont-Neuf, kissing and murmuring how they loved each other and always would, and he took her back to the tiny studio garret, which was now theirs, and sat on the rooftop and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle.

“Paris is always a good idea,” she murmured, head in the crook of his neck, her back to his front, wrapped in a warm blanket, and his arms tight around her middle. She tilted her face up to his, sated, and still hopelessly in love with him. “Take me to Paris, Jon.”

He nuzzled his nose into her cheek, whispering. “You are Paris, Dany.”

As it was the city where they’d met, fallen in love, and found true happiness, she grinned, because that was his way of saying how much he loved her. She brushed her lips over his, sighing, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And they kissed, as the Eiffel Tower lit up, and she curled up into him, falling asleep in the city of love and lights.

#jonerys #jonerys au #jonerys drabble #Erika's gorgeous moodboards!#my random drabbles #Paris is always a good idea #Paris and jonerys is a better idea #happy birthday to me lol

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lin-nin · 4 years ago

Text

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 12

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 12: Called In Favors

< | Previous Chapter The weeks had blurred together once you had properly settled into your new home. Your days were spent often either reading something you found in the library that wasn't at your castle, or training with Techno. The training had been rough on you, horribly so. Bruises were blooming all over your body, especially your back. Despite getting better on your feet and with your response time to Techno, he never failed to knock you down at least a dozen times before calling it a day. It was frustrating, but definitely served to motivate you.

The boys had taken to watching you sometimes, with Tommy and Tubbo cheering you on. Wilbur would sometimes call out advice from the sidelines, and it was something you were thankful for. Beyond the training, you often met with Eret to go over wedding plans. The two of you had grown extremely close over the weeks, swapping stories as he fussed over your dress. You appreciated his friendship like no other, extremely content to have made a proper friend.

The wedding was only a couple of days away now, and you were giddily pacing around Eret. He laughed at you, moving to grab your arm to stop you. “Relax, pacing isn’t going to make them show up any sooner,” He murmured, and you couldn’t help the impatient way you twirled.

“I know. I just miss them and want them to hurry up,” You practically whined, toying with the sleeves of your dress. Dream and George were supposed to be showing up today, and staying for about a week. Excitement coursed through you the moment you had woken up, the excitement blatantly clear in your eyes.

“You miss them, don’t you?” He gave you a soft look and smile, letting go of your arm to let you pace again.

“Always. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I still miss them. George is my brother, I naturally miss his guidance. Dream is my partner in crime, we’ve always been joined at the hip. I feel lost without him by my side.” You paused by the window, peering out at the courtyard. Tubbo and Tommy were squaring off, pointing swords at each other. It was always interesting to watch them fight, how seriously they could take it, swinging as if they had the intent to take a limb off each other. Only to turn around a few moments later and tackle the other and laugh, as if they weren’t practically at each other's throat. It was endearing in a sweet way.

“I see. I suppose your restlessness would make sense, then.” He wandered over to stand beside you, watching Tommy and Tubbo as well. The two swung their swords at one another, practically anticipating one another’s movements. You yearned to have the added danger of sharp objects in your training. While you did enjoy the hand-to-hand, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as what you were watching.

“Do you think Techno will let me fight with my dagger any time soon?” You mused, turning to look at Eret. He hummed, shrugging slightly.

“He’s probably going to try and make sure your hand-to-hand is nearly perfect before he lets you actively touch your dagger.” You pouted at that, huffing a little.

“That’s boring, it gets so repetitive. Not that it isn’t useful, of course it is. I was just hoping to learn to use a weapon much sooner.” You grumbled, moving away from the window. The ballroom had most of its decorations up, leading to it feeling like a completely different place. You ran your fingers along the table, tracing the grain on the wood.

“It’s good if you’re finding it repetitive. He might actually let you use your dagger soon. Ask him about it later,” Eret laughed, following behind you. As he did, you could hear Tommy yell obscenities at Tubbo, making you shake your head. Loud as ever.

“He better. Wonder if he’ll let me show off for Dream and George.” You gave a crooked grin. You could already imagine the frustration on their faces as you trained. Your training sessions were nearly daily anyways, and you hoped that Techno didn’t choose today of all days for a day off. You really wanted to show off and make it known that you could hold yourself in a battle. Especially with Techno.

“He’s cocky when it comes to his fighting, he’ll want to show off. You won’t even have to ask him.” You couldn’t help but grin at that, eyes alight. Good. You really wanted to be able to see how the two would react. You had a rough feeling on how Dream would react, but you really wanted to see if he would be proud after all of it was said and done. After all, learning to fight from literally nothing wasn’t a small task.

“Good! That’s all I ask for the time being. I’ll ask about my dagger later, then.” Eret only gave you an amused look, watching you return to wandering around the room. You were just incredibly eager to see your brother again. Even though it was for your wedding, a thought that had your stomach flipping. You still had trouble picturing it as your own wedding, despite the fact you had helped through every single step of it.

“It’ll probably have to wait until after your marriage. It’s already bad enough you’re all bruised up before the wedding, we don’t need any cuts showing up,” Eret teased and you huffed, acutely aware of how it would look. Neither George nor Dream would be pleased about the bruises on your forearms from blocking hits from Techno. Not that you cared too much what they thought about them. You were happy that they were there because it meant you were learning. You were improving on top of it, too. You had to be.

“I suppose I can be okay with that. After the wedding I better be using my dagger, or Techno is gonna have a few problems.” You settled your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest.

“Somehow I doubt you could give him very many problems.” Eret’s laugh was contagious, easily breaking through your initial pout.

“Maybe I could, you don’t know!” You wandered to stand beside him, peering as he messed with some of the decorations, making sure they sat as he wanted. “Do we need to do a final dress fitting?”

“No, the only thing you need to do is take it easy and prepare yourself for your wedding tomorrow.” Eret reached over, patting your shoulder. You huffed. You had been antsy the entire time, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. While it was an arranged marriage, it was still your one and only wedding. You were going to make sure things were perfect for it. As much as you could, anyways.

“That means do nothing until George and Dream get here. Who knows when that’ll be,” You whined, dramatically leaning against him. He laughed, head shaking.

“Realistically? Anytime soon. Didn’t the prince say they were planning to leave early morning?” You nodded at the question, craning your head towards the main hall. They would be arriving soon, and it caused excited butterflies to swirl around your stomach. Eret noticed, pushing you gently towards the door. “Go wait for them before you wear a path into the floor.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, grinning thankfully at your friend as you took off towards the door. The morning sun beat down on the ground outside, and you giddily went to the same spot Philza, Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur had stood for your arrival. You rocked back and forth on your heels, staring down the stone path expectantly. As if they would appear if you so much as blinked.

“You seem excited,” A voice mused from beside you. You yelped in surprise, jumping a little. Techno stood beside you, looking down in amusement at you. When the hell had he snuck up on you? Were you really that focused on Dream and George’s arrival?

“I am, I missed them,” you replied, turning your gaze towards the path again. A fond smile was painted on your face, eyes bright with excitement.

“They should be here soon. The carriage was seen pulling into the capital not too long ago.” The words only fuelled your excitement, and it took everything in you to not start pacing again. You really were restless with the excitement, the movement felt like the only way to expel it. Other than being able to hug George properly. You simply continued to rock on your heels, excitedly listening out for the sound of them. Under the assumption you didn’t see them first.

You heard the steady pace of horse hooves before you saw the carriage, though you stood on your tip-toes. You grasped onto Techno’s arm for balance as you craned in an attempt to see. From your peripheral you could see him look at you, that amused smile on his face. His hand covered yours on his arm, allowing you to properly look for the carriage as it pulled up.

You were practically bouncing when it came to a stop, fingers curling into Techno’s arm. You didn’t even care who came out of the damned thing first, you were going to hug them. Techno laughed as you stared, watching the door open with such eager anticipation. You launched yourself away from Techno, throwing yourself at the man who stepped out of the carriage.

Arms wrapped around you, a startled laugh ringing in your ears as you were spun around before your feet returned to the ground. “Good to see you too.” You pulled back a little, grinning at George fondly.

“I missed you so much,” You held onto him tight, not wanting too much to part.

“It’s been a rough few weeks, hasn’t it?” He reached up to ruffle your hair, much to your protest.

“Did you miss me too?” Dream’s voice called as he stepped down onto the stone. Excitement lit up your face as you untangled yourself from your brother.

“Dream!” You called excitedly as you threw yourself at him next. He picked you up as your arms wrapped around his neck, holding you tight against him. “Of course I missed you, idiot. You never replied to any of my letters.” You buried your face into his neck, relishing the familiar scent of fresh linen and roses, as well as the sharp tang of metal. It was comforting to smell it again.

“I was busy with a few things, but I promised I read each and every one of them,” He assured you, hands squeezing your waist. Techno cleared his throat from behind the two of you, and you sheepishly pulled away from your friend at that. You offered Dream a gentler smile, turning to offer it to Techno as well. The same look he had given Dream back when you set off in the carriage, except it was a little more off putting now that you could actually see his facial expression. The down tilt of his mouth, the way his eyes were narrowed. It was enough to make you take a few large steps back from Dream, closer to Techno.

“I’m glad to see you made it here safely. I take it the trip was okay?” Techno mainly addressed George as he spoke, and you wandered back to his side. Standing between George and Dream held a different feeling than it had previously. George followed when Techno moved towards the castle. His hand settled in the middle of your lower back to guide you, an action that made heat rise to your cheeks. You were used to him resting a hand on your back, but it was always between your shoulder blades.

“It was, thank you. Have things been fine here?” George upheld the conversation, and you just let the two of them talk. Between the hand on your back and the heated stare you could feel burning holes into you, you didn’t think you trusted your voice at the moment.

“I’ll let you show them around. Come to the courtyard when you’re finished,” Techno addressed you, hand finally moving away from your back. You missed the touch just the slightest, but met Techno’s pointed look evenly. For training. He meant to meet him there to train. A smile blossomed on your face as it clicked.

“Alright, I shouldn’t take too long.” You watched him leave towards the courtyard, but not before he narrowed his eyes at Dream once more. It was going to be a long week, wasn’t it? You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on showing them around.

“He’s much less intimidating without the mask,” George mused, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s only intimidating when he wants to be.” You led them towards the east wing, entirely forgoing the west wing. It was mostly just servants quarters and work rooms, so truly Dream and George didn’t need to know too much about it. You informed them as much, too.

“Where’s your dagger?” Dream questioned as you lead them into the dining hall, causing you to look at your hip. You hadn’t been wearing it since you never used it yet, and taking it off during training was just an extra step you didn’t care for.

“I haven’t learned to use it yet, though I’ll probably start learning to use it after the wedding.” You grinned bright, and George made a sound of disagreement.

“I still don’t think you need to be learning to fight. Surely you won’t be in a position where Technoblade can’t protect you.” You shrugged, leading them down the wings and pointing out various rooms.

“I don’t think I will be put into the position, but it doesn’t hurt to have the knowledge should it be needed.” You led them up the stairs next, heading towards the rooms they would be staying in.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt. I don’t want to get a letter about that.” Dream gave you a pointed look and you laughed, head shaking.

“I won’t! I take good care of myself!” You defended, watching them examine the rooms. When they were satisfied and returned to your side, excitement bubbled in your stomach. This meant you were closer to training, all you had to do was change and head to the courtyards.

“Going to come with me to the courtyard?” You asked with an excited smile, heading in the direction of your room.

“I don’t see why not. You seem awfully excited.” George raised an eyebrow and you grinned, peering out of the windows as you passed the ones that overlooked the courtyard. You could see the training patch from here, and you could very clearly see Techno on it, across from Philza. Both had swords drawn, practically dancing around each other and calculating the others movements. They moved with a sense of clear familiarity, around both each other and their blades. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Techno train using his sword, but it always enraptured you every time.

“I am.” Your voice was soft as George and Dream also glanced out the windows to see what you were looking at. Just in time for Techno to knock Philza’s sword out of his hand, the weapon bouncing along the ground. His shoulders heaved, a cocky grin on his face when his uncle raised his hands in defeat. He sheathed the sword, hand raising to wipe sweat from his brow. He’d clearly been training from the moment he’d been out there.

As if aware you were watching his gaze tilted up, looking towards the window. More specifically, towards you. He gave a grin your way, hand raising in a small wave which you couldn’t help but return. He raised his eyebrows, almost as if a silent question on if you were almost done and you couldn’t help but nod excitedly. From beside you, Dream huffed, especially at the smug smile on Techno’s face. You didn’t care, simply moving away from the window to move to your room faster.

“I have to change, but then we can go to the courtyard.” You practically ran into your room, eager to change into your pants and boots as opposed to the dress. You eyed the exposed bruises on your forearms, knowing full and well the reaction you were about to get. You slid out of your room, grinning up at George and Dream. “Okay, so, I may be about to go train-” You slowly started, warily eyeing their reactions. George made a noise of protest, eyes going wide. Dream shot a hand out, grabbing your wrist and lifting your arm up. The dim lighting in the hall illuminated the bruises of varying shades, as well as the scowl on Dream’s face.

“This is what happens when you train? You’re covered in bruises!” Dream demanded and you flinched a little, slipping your arm from his grasp.

“It’s from blocking hits, it’s not like he’s trying to hurt me,” You grumbled, sidestepping the blonde. The look on his face had made you uneasy, and you didn’t want to look at it. You just wanted to get to the courtyard.

“You don’t know that! There’s no telling if he wants to hurt you or not!” Dream persisted from behind you. You took a breath, pausing on the stairs and looking at him.

“Dream, I am absolutely fine. You’ll see.” You didn’t give him too much time to react, darting down the stairs. You didn’t want a lecture- you wanted to train. You wanted to have fun. You could hear the two following behind you, as well as George’s soft muttering. Presumably he was reassuring the taller, but you didn’t care to listen to what they were saying.

The warmth of the sun was definitely welcome as it hit your skin. It was a familiar feeling, and you couldn’t help the eager grin on your face as you looked to Techno. He offered you a faint smile as he messed with his hair. He tugged it back, looping it into a loose bun. You raised an eyebrow at it, coming to stand across from him. “Taking this seriously enough to pull your hair back?” You questioned, swinging your arms across your chest in a stretch.

“I have to show your brother how much you’ve improved, don’t I?” He shifted, taking up a fighting stance once more. You naturally fell in line, mimicking his stance. George awkwardly stood to one side, Dream watching with a glare and his arms across his chest. Back behind Techno stood Philza, curiosity clear in his gaze. He hadn’t particularly watched the two of you train in the past, so it seemed now was the time he picked. Tommy and Wilbur were sat on the ground at his feet, watching with varying curiosity and interest.

You rolled your shoulders, before charging at Techno as you often did. You didn’t even have to think too much anymore, feigning to one side and shooting a hand out to clip his side. He had made sure very early on you learned to use your size to your advantage. That showed here as he turned, moving to hit you. You narrowly blocked the hand with your arm, jumping back as his foot shot out. The hit would have landed on your calf had it landed, and you were kinda thankful it had missed this time.

He didn’t relent on you as you danced on your toes, exchanging hits evenly. You stumbled when his hand passed your face, making you dodge to your best ability. You swung a fist out in retaliation, and he easily caught it. He swung it, pinning the arm behind your back. One hand moved towards your neck, hovering as if he had a knife. If he did, the blade would be very near your neck. Blood rushed in your ears, the adrenaline pumping. You were effectively trapped and defeated.

"I think I win this round," He murmured against your ear, and the blood rushed to your face. You were suddenly very aware of the way your back pressed to his chest. You were also vaguely aware of Tommy making disgusted gagging noises from the side.

"It would seem so," You managed to say back, voice barely short of a squeak. He unhanded you, allowing you to slip away from him. Your heart thundered as you took up your spot once more, looking at Techno’s family. Philza had this bemused look on your face, whereas Wilbur looked almost bored and Tommy looked disgusted. Your ears flushed and you focused in Techno once more, hands raised.

"Fight me," Dream's voice interrupted as he stepped into the middle of you and Techno. You blinked up at the blonde, turning to look at George. George had simply shrugged and you looked back towards Dream. Techno had stepped around him, an almost agitated look on his face.

"I was under the impression you didn't want her fighting?" He levelled Dream with a glare, which Dream only seemed to take in stride. Your stomach twisted anxiously, eyes darting between the two men.

"I don't but clearly you're going to teach her anyways." The way venom practically dripped from Dream's voice was worrisome, a trait you had only seen in him once or twice before.

"Well her future is here, so I think it matters more what I want and what she wants." He inclined his head, looking at him down the bridge of his nose. Tommy had leaned over to whisper to Wilbur, glancing at the two uneasily. Techno's fingers had twitched towards one of his swords, and it seemed like Dream was thinking similarly.

"Hey, its fine! I'll train with him! It'll be good to fight someone I'm not familiar with!" You exclaimed as you moved forwards, slotting yourself between them. You pushed at both of their chests, hoping to diffuse the situation. Dream gave Techno a smug smirk, and Techno simply sighed with a nod.

"Fine," He relented, taking a few steps back. He stood beside Philza, looking none too pleased. You stepped back from Dream, returning to your spot. You could, at the very least, spar with him. So long as it kept the situation from escalating. He didn't wait for you to be ready like Techno often did, instead going straight for you.

You spun on your toes, yelping and dodging out of the way from the hit aimed towards your stomach. You rebounded from the initial shock, spinning again to smack your heel against his thigh. The slight wince that crossed his face immediately brought satisfaction bubbling up, a smile on your face. You weren’t given much time to celebrate the hit, though. You had to react fast, meeting each hit with your own. You winced a little as he struck your wrist, cursing under your breath.

His hits and timing were a lot less forgivable than Techno’s, having an edge to him that you were never quite prepared for. Your eyebrows knitted together as you punched at his shoulder on his bad side, knocking him off balance. His hand shot out, grasping onto your wrist and dragging you down with him. You yelped in surprise, his back slamming into the ground. His body padded you're fall, a small thing you were thankful for.

You weren't given too much time to contemplate the next course of action, getting thrown off of his chest. He rolled the pair of you over, leaving you pinned to the ground beneath him. His hand moved, mimicking as Techno had earlier. Like if he had a knife it would be pressed to your neck.

"I win," Dream whispered and leaned down, smug smirk still on his face. You huffed beneath him, shoving slightly at his hand at your defeat.

"Alright, you win. Now get off of me," You grumbled. You pouted a little and pushed at his shoulder, ignoring the way the smugness vanished. He complied, getting off of you and allowing you to sit up.

"You still have a lot of work to do." His voice came from above you, and you rolled your shoulders. You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I haven't been training that long, of course I still need to learn." You placed your hands up under you, moving to push yourself up. Before you could, Techno’s all too familiar hand came into sight, offering to help you. He had inserted himself between you and Dream, a frown tugging at his lips. You easily took his hand, allowing him to pull you up. You stumbled as he did so with a little more force than necessary, colliding into his chest with a squeak.

"She did fine. She's not some delicate flower who needs you to keep her thorns clipped." He hardly seemed bothered by you being pressed to his chest, only seeming focused on staring down Dream. You carefully pulled away from Techno’s chest, though you continued to linger by him.

"I never said she was,” Dream spat, causing your nervousness to rise.

“Dream-” George started, moving to grab his friend’s shoulder.

“You didn’t say it explicitly, but your actions said it well enough.” You raised a hand, gently pressing it on Techno’s upper arm.

“Techno-” You murmured softly, moving to push him away. The two glowered at each other, though Techno did allow you to move him. You ushered him towards his brothers, glancing back at Dream nervously. Whatever tension was between these two was quite dangerous, and you didn’t like it. “Dream, maybe you and George should go to your rooms for right now.” Your voice was tense, unsure if the blonde would listen.

“She’s right, Dream.” George’s voice was low as he moved the younger back. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to refuse. Dream pushed George off of him, turning and heading towards the castle. George shot you an apologetic look, chasing after him. You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into him,” You apologized to Techno, who finally looked to you again.

“What a dickhead,” Tommy chimed, a frown on his face as he looked towards the castle. You sighed, not even knowing how to respond.

“Is he always like that?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow at you, drawing your attention to him.

“Not usually. He’s never done any of that before.” You turned back to Techno, watching him closely. His brows were furrowed, irritation sparkling in his eyes.

“Enough about him. We need to keep training you. Philza.” Techno turned towards his uncle. The older man walked forward, raising an eyebrow. “Go tell Ranboo I need a favor from him. Keep an eye on him,” He muttered softly, eyes cutting towards where Dream had left. Philza followed the gaze and nodded, leaving Techno’s full attention to focus on you.

“Round two?” You questioned softly with a smile, eager for distraction. As Philza left towards the castle, Techno took up his normal stance and motioned for you. Sparring was better than dealing with whatever dramatics Dream had, and easier than wondering what this favor was that Techno called in from whoever Ranboo was.

Next Chapter | >

#dream team #dream smp #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #reader insert #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

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Who Needs Luck?

A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)

Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff!

Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

____

I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.

But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.

The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.

I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.

“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.

“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.

“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.

At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.

“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.

While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”

She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.

“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?

“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.

“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-

Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”

“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!

“Roadtrip!”

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.

“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.

That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.

“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”

“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.

“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.

“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.

“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.

“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.

“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”

***

“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”

To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”

We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.

“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.

The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.

“You said you took this train when you were little?”

“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”

“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.

***

“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”

She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.

“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.

“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.

“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.

“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.

“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”

“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”

“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.

***

“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”

I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.

***

Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.

“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”

___

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wlntrsldler · 4 years ago

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I Want You To Love Me (James Potter x Reader)

PROMPT: hi, i finally did it. this is part two to tell me that you love me!

A/N: i do prefer the first part but i also enjoyed writing this.

WARNINGS: angst?

WC: 3.7K+ (sorry again)

HP MASTERLIST

i’m doing a writing challenge!

i want you to love me (j.p one shot)

“Y/N/N, let me in!”

You lifted your head from your pillow to speak into the distance separating your bed from your door, “Go away, Pads! I’m staying in.”

“You said that last weekend… and the weekend before that,” you heard Sirius groan from the hallway. He continued to bang against the wooden door, rattling the metal components of it, “We miss you, Y/N/N! Come out to Hogsmeade with us!”

“No, I want to stay in,” you yelled, falling back into the solace of your bed, “Sirius, please just go without me. I’m sure my less than happy attitude would kill the mood anyway.”

“I’d rather have the mood be killed than not have my friend with me.”

You smiled a bit at his words. Sirius always did know how to cheer you up. A part of you wanted to give in and spend the day with your friends. You did miss them terribly, as you’ve done nothing short of avoiding them for the last month. You even went so far as to switching out of the classes that you had with them. You were surprised you got permission to do so, but you had to thank your long-standing and pleasant relationships with your professors for that.

As you opened your mouth to agree to Sirius’ offer, you began to remember who else would be there— James. A month in isolation was not enough time to mend a broken heart. So you sunk back in your bed, pulling the covers up to cover your chest, and squeezed your eyes shut.

You heard Sirius sigh, disappointingly, before his footsteps echoed down the corridors. You were relieved he gave up, at least for the day. You didn’t know if James had told them about that night, you didn’t really allow yourself to be in the same space as any of the Marauders for enough time to have a conversation beyond “hi’s” and “hello’s.” Sirius was tired of it, as was Peter and Remus, but Sirius took it personally. You two have built a good friendship over the years and he didn’t know what it was that caused you to pull away from them so rapidly and so out of the blue.

He had a hunch. He figured it had something to do with James, as the boy flinched every time someone was to mention your name. Not to mention the way James had changed drastically, more subdued and mellowed out ever since the night of the party. He hasn’t chased after Lily since, and it puzzled a lot of people, Sirius especially. He had to hear about James’ incessant pining for years and all of a sudden, Lily seemed to cease to exist? Something wasn’t right.

Sirius talked about it to Remus and Peter but the two boys were just as lost as he was. Nobody knew what happened that night between you and James. And although they all had their theories, most of them being absurd, James never talked about it to anyone, nor did you. So your friends were left in the dark, wondering and guessing what on earth transpired.

It wasn't until an hour after Sirius’ supposed departure did you hear a knock on your door again. You groaned, not wanting to have this conversation twice in the same day. You sat up, “Go away, Sirius!”

Another knock.

“Padfoot,” you warned, “Go away, please!”

He seemed to ignore your rebuttals, continuing to pound harshly on your door. You closed your eyes, pushing two pillows against both of your ears to try to drown out the noise, forgetting for a second that you were a witch with the knowledge of a simple spell to do the trick. When you realized that the pillows weren’t working, nor did he show any signs of stopping, you got up from your bed and marched angrily to your door.

You swung it open, looking down at your feet. You huffed, “Sirius, I’m really not in the mood—”

It wasn’t Sirius.

James’ back was turned, evidence that he’d been pacing in front of your door after he heard your footsteps. When he heard the familiar creaking of your door opening, he turned around, an unexplainable look on his face. His eyes were brimmed red, like he’d been crying. His curls were tossed around, not neatly styled the way he always did them. James wore pajama pants and a fluffy sweater. It was unfair, really, how good he still looked even when he quite literally just rolled out of bed.

The two of you didn’t talk, not one word. You just stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence. You became so aware of how you must’ve looked— pajama pants that went past the tip of your toes, a large hoodie that you were half-sure belonged to James once, and your hair in disarray from spending the entire day and afternoon in bed. Subconsciously, you hid behind your door, trying to hide yourself from the boy who watched your every move.

The silence was deafening. It was awkward and uncomfortable. It was like neither of you knew each other anymore, like you didn’t spend years being friends or months being wrapped up in each other’s arms in the most vulnerable way. You stared at James Potter, not recognizing the man who stood in front of you.

This man was unsure of himself, not carrying himself in the confident way that James usually does. His back was hunched over like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. He looked small. He had this guard up in front of him and a face that you couldn’t read. This was unusual for the both of you. You weren’t used to not knowing James.

You forced yourself to be okay with that thought as you stared him down, knowing that you had no choice but to accept that you two will be strangers to each other one day. Soon, even. But truth be told, you didn’t like it. You didn’t like not knowing him.

You gulped, starting to close the door, little by little, in hopes he wouldn’t notice. At first, he didn’t. He was too preoccupied staring at your figure, your face, your being, that he didn’t realize that the door was shutting. When James finally did, he stuck his foot in the crack, right before you could close it. He hissed at the pain, but kept his foot there, not daring to move.

“I miss you,” he finally said, breathing out every word, “And I-I won’t lie to you, I don’t know if there’s a word for what I’m feeling. I’m not even sure I fully understand it.”

James pushed the door open, letting himself walk in despite your silent protests. You walked backwards, stopping right before the back of your knees hit your bedpost. He continued to talk, looking down at his feet, distraught, “All I know is now I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t stop worrying about whether you’re alright or not. And I think I’m going crazy, Y/N/N.”

“James..”

“No, let me finish,” he shook his head, looking into your eyes. His eyes were clouded by tears making your breath get caught in your throat. He paced back and forth in your dormitory, “I haven’t slept in weeks because every time I close my eyes I just see you and I don’t know what it means! I’m so confused and I just— nothing makes sense anymore. I keep looking for you everywhere I go and I expect you to be there next to me and when you’re not, I just feel so empty.”

You sat down on your bed, tears flowing down your cheeks. You twiddled with your thumbs in your lap, unable to look at James who stopped his pacing and stood in front of you. You didn’t say a word. You didn’t think you had any words to say.

After his rant, James looked at you. His heart ached as he watched you retreat to yourself, cowering after every word that he said. He ran to you, ignoring the warning signs that were flashing in his mind. “Y/N,” he whispered, crouching down to be eye level with you, “Please look at me.”

You couldn’t do it. You gulped, biting your lip to stop the cries that wanted to escape. James wrapped his hands around yours, engulfing them in the familiar warmth you’ve missed in the time you were apart. He kneeled in front of you, his head hanging low. Neither of you said anything, the silence and the sounds of muffled cries bouncing off the walls of your dormitory.

James began to shake softly, his chest rising up and down as his tears began to drop onto the floor. You watched the wood under your feet become pooled with his tears. He placed his forehead on your knees, his lips kissing the fabric of the pajamas you wore to cover your legs.

“Y/N, I miss you. This month has been hell without you and the only thing that makes sense to me right now is that I need you in my life,” he sighed, lifting his head to place his chin on your lap, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“That’s not fair, James,” you sobbed, pushing him away. It took all your might not to scoop him up in your arms the minute you saw his hurt expression. You never once denied him, never once pushed him away, until now. You still couldn’t keep eye contact with him, his glossy eyes and trembling lips made you putty in his hands and for once, you wanted to put yourself first. You crossed your knees under your thighs, sitting uncomfortably on your bed, “It’s not fair that you just came in here and said all that.”

He sat in front of you, knees up to his chest. He respected your wishes and kept his distance, “Why?”

“Because I know what I’m feeling,” you stated, lips quivering. “I’m sure of what I feel and you can’t just come in here and say that you miss me without knowing what it is you feel! I don’t want to keep thinking that there’s something here when there’s not, James. It’s not fair to me.”

“How am I supposed to figure out if there’s something here if I haven't seen you in a month, Y/N?” he replied, frustrated with the lack of communication between the two of you. “I haven’t seen you for weeks! You disappeared on me. I didn’t know what to think. The only thing I could think about was how I didn’t want you gone from my life. I tried, Y/N/N. I tried so hard to talk to you but you weren’t around anymore. I asked Minnie where you’ve been and she said it wasn’t any of my business—”

“Because it isn’t,” you interrupted.

James rolled his eyes, ignoring your snarky comment, “The last time I saw you— if you even count that glance as seeing you— was when you helped bring Moony inside after the full moon. And the minute I tried to talk to you, you bolted! I felt like you didn’t want me around anymore and that killed me, Y/N/N.”

You felt a bit guilty, knowing that you did everything that he stated. You sniffled, finally getting the courage to look at him. James was staring at you intently, resting his cheek on his knee. His cheeks were squished, making him look so adorable with his red nose and messy curls. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, eyes widening in realization.

“Merlin, you haven’t even been in the Great Hall for meals! How do you get away with that? Have you been eating?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his worried tone, not expecting that to come out of his lips. James always did have a motherly instinct when it came to you and the Marauders. He was shocked at the sound of your laughter, the worry in his eyes subsiding for a second. He missed that sound so much.

A lopsided smirk appeared on his lips. James looked at you, quirking his eyebrow. His tone changed as he spoke again, “Well?”

“Well what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, dropping your smile. You remembered why you were in this conversation in the first place.

“Have you?” he echoed, “Have you been eating?”

“I have.”

“Good, good,” he nodded. His voice never returned to his frustrated tone, as if that little moment between you two was enough to cure his broken soul. He awkwardly waddled closer to your bed, not bothering to get up as he inched to where you sat. James sent you a sad smile, “I missed you.”

“James—”

“You know,” he interrupted, ignoring the way you wanted to roll your eyes at his antics, “The only times you’ve ever called me James was when I’ve pissed you off, or when I’ve done something, or when we’re talking about something serious. Which makes sense since we are talking about something serious right now—”

To push his buttons, you decided to do the same to him, “Does this lead to a point?”

“Yes, if you would let me talk,” James scoffed, a playful tone in his voice, “As I was saying, you only call me James when I do something... That night in the Common Room was the first time you called me James for not doing something. And Merlin’s beard, every night since then, I wished that I did.”

You wore a puzzled look on your face, not understanding what he was saying, “What?”

“I wish I did something that night, Y/N/N,” he confessed, “I wish I didn’t leave you on your own. I wish I sat down and talked to you that night. I wish I kissed you when you asked me to. Something! I wish I did something instead of just walking away.”

You stayed silent as you let yourself process his words. You didn’t want to feel the butterflies in your stomach, but when you realized that he regretted that night for the opposite reason that you did, you couldn’t help it. You regretted that night because you lost James. You lost the years of friendship and history that the both of you shared because of one too many shots. You swallowed your pride and asked him to kiss you so you could have something to remember him by, something to keep you connected with him, even if it was nothing more to him than a memory.

He regretted that he walked away from you despite the growing ache in his chest. He shut out the rest of the Marauders, hoping that he’ll have enough courage to face what he was feeling for you, rather than hide away and cower behind his far-fetched fantasy with Lily. James regretted that night because he let you believe that you lost him when in reality, he was completely and wholly yours to take.

“Y/N?” he whispered, focusing on nothing else but you, “Please, say something.”

“You can’t do that, Prongs,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes twinkled with glee when the nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. You blushed, embarrassed, “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

“Never apologize for that,” he shook his head, testing the waters by sitting down on your bed beside you. You didn’t push him off, which he took as a good sign, “Never break that habit either. It comes naturally to you and that’s what I want between us, Y/N/N. We fit together so naturally.”

You closed your eyes, letting out broken breaths. You clutched your chest, feeling yourself crumble to his feet. James couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wrapped his arms around your shivering figure, only holding you tighter when he felt you stiffen under his touch. He cooed into your hair, sweet nothings that didn’t make any sense, but it was enough.

James kissed the top of your head, letting you beat your knuckles on his chest in frustration. He knew he deserved this. He deserved your anger and your rejection and your denial. He deserved to be left for dust, as he did to you. But for now, he had you in his arms, and he’d take that over anything else in the world.

You cried into his chest, “You’ve hurt me so much, James Potter.”

“I know.”

“It hurt so much to watch you run after someone else while I was just standing there, waiting for you to see me.”

“I know.”

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about why I wasn’t good enough for you?” you croaked out, not having the energy to pull away from him. You stayed idle in his arms, except for the occasional wiping of the tears that stained your cheeks, “I know I’m not Lily but Godric, I thought I would be good enough for you.”

“You are,” he replied, holding your face in his hands. James pulled you away, hoping that if you were to see the sincerity in his eyes, you’d see how much he meant it, “Y/N, you are too good for me. I’m the one that isn’t good enough for you. I’ve been such a fool.”

“James,” you pushed him away, creating some distance between you. The few inches that separated the both of you might as well be oceans because James had never felt so far from you before.

He reached out for you, a ghost of a touch caressing your hand before you pulled it away, “Please, stop pulling away from me. Y/N, I’m trying.”

And he was. You could tell he was trying to figure out what it was he felt for you. He stared at you differently this time— not in the way a friend looked at a friend or the way he used to look at you with lust clouding his eyes. This time, this time was different. James stared at you in adoration, like if he were to be separated from you again, he would lose all his senses. His eyes yearned to look into yours, hoping that if he looked into the swirls of your eyes long enough, he’d be able to see the future he desperately craved with you.

“I know you are,” you smiled, though it didn’t reach your eyes. You leaned over to trace patterns on the top of his hand. “And I appreciate that you’re trying to figure this out but James, like I said, I can’t be ten steps ahead of you. I can’t wait for you to figure out what you’re feeling for me while I watch myself fall deeper and deeper in love with you because I love you, James and I—”

James’ breath got caught in his throat. The minute those words left your lips, his other hand placed itself on top of yours. He squeezed it, “Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“Say that you love me again.”

You shook your head, flustered that you confessed your unrequited love for him a second time. You tried to take your hand back but James held it in place, staring at the way your limbs seemed to melt together.

He spoke again after he realized you weren’t going to, “The night you told me you were in love with me, I felt something that scared me. At first I thought it was just shock and confusion, maybe, because I didn’t think you could ever fall in love with me. I stayed up trying to figure out what that feeling was in my chest because I couldn’t sleep, Y/N. There was this pressure in my chest that I’ve never felt before.”

James locked his eyes with yours, “And when you said those words right now, I felt it again— that pressure, that something in my chest. Now, it makes sense. It all makes sense. You, your words, your love, is the only thing that makes me feel this way.”

“What are you saying, James?”

“I’m in love with you, too,” he chuckled, breathily. His eyes pooled with his tears, the overwhelming feelings of realization too much for his emotions to handle, “I’ve been so blind all this time, trying to hide it behind an infatuation that could never and would never touch what we share— what we have.”

“You can’t say things like that without meaning it. Just a few minutes ago you showed up saying that you didn’t know how you feel and suddenly because I said three little words, you have it all figured out?”

“No,” he said, truthfully, “I don’t have it all figured out. I don’t know how I can make you trust me again. Or how I can show you how much I truly mean it when I say that I love you. Or how I can convince you that we can move past this. But those three little words helped me become more sure of myself than I ever have been this entire month and I would do anything for you to give me a chance to prove myself.”

“I don’t want to get hurt,” you mumbled.

His hopeful eyes wandered to yours, “I’d rather hurt myself a million times over than hurt you again.”

Finally, after fighting thoughts, you gave in. You nodded, scooting closer to him. James let out a laugh, completely overjoyed that you found it in your heart to give him a chance. He wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you down onto your messy bed with him. He held you so close to his chest, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat and the way his chest rumbled as he spoke to you.

“Thank you,” he murmured. James caressed the side of your face. He inched closer, darting his eyes to your lips. He swallowed back his fears, taking a leap of faith as he asked the question, “Can I kiss you?”

You found yourself lost in his eyes, lost in his presence. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the boy in front of you, the boy you loved who you watched love another. The boy who was now in front of you, staring at you in the way that you always craved. It took you a minute to find the right words. When you eventually did, you nodded, hovering your lips over his, “As long as it’s not the last time.”

TAGS: @littlegasps @sleep-i-ness @belledawnidk @heloisedaphnebrightmore @chudleycanons @emcchi

#frances writes #frances song fics #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #james potter fanfic #james potter x reader #james potter x yn #the marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #idk how to feel about this #kinda like it kinda dont?#never been one for happy endings #does this even count as a happy ending LOL

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

orbit, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and (maybe) get an education. And Jeon Jungkook could do all those things. It was great. Until the moment he encounters an inescapable gravity, the kind of gravity that had already trapped all six of his friends... but left him out in orbit, circling alone.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (too much) alcohol consumption, slow burn; smut (fem reader, dry humping, m-receiving oral, striptease, cock-warming, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - university!AU; a LOT of buildup; longhaired!Jungkook likes getting his hair pulled a little too much; Jungkook’s POV Technically BTS x reader, but we’re focusing on JK. :)

“Hey, you’re Jeon Jungkook, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

The slim, pretty hand slid into her backpack and she held out an iPhone to him.

“You’re friends with Kim Taehyung, right?” Her voice seemed a little hoarse. She was wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “He left his cell at my place.”

Jungkook took it from her, frowning. “Ah, he’s not usually that forgetful.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wanted someone trustworthy to give it back to him.”

That was their first conversation.

When Jeon Jungkook entered university, he knew it was going to be different from high school. Bigger classes, more work, and completely monotone teachers as he struggled to stay awake during mandatory studies like Physics. What adult in real life uses physics anyway (besides physicists, of course)? At least he went to the same university all his friends went to, either as undergrads or as graduate students. Being with his friends was awesome.

Being smashed with his friends was even better.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the corner of the party. It was at someone’s house with way too many people in it and everyone only vaguely knew the host. He was celebrating the first complete week of university by getting absolutely plastered (as one does). He noticed her right away because she was wearing a thick black choker with a silver ring on it and an oversized band tee. She wore a gray flannel over it like a jacket. Chunky combat boots, very different from the other girls in their high heels. The sharpest black eyeliner he had ever seen, paired with a red-stained lip.

She was also taking shots.

Surrounded by guys, in some sort of contest. She was throwing them back and two guys were beside her at a table, absolutely fucked. Heads on the table, unable to touch their shots, looking green. She clinked her glass down triumphantly and slammed her hand on the table, curling the other towards her.

Jungkook watched as money was slapped on the table.

She grinned and gathered it towards her, pocketing it in her flannel’s chest pocket.

“Nice try, boys.”

Jungkook looked away, quite impressed. Then Park Jimin fell over at something Kim Taehyung said and Jungkook had to catch the smaller man. He was laughing way too hard that something only mildly funny, but everyone was laughing because they were losing it. The night went on. Someone had retrieved a beach ball from the backyard and was throwing it around the party, making a fucking mess. The beach ball bounced off of Min Yoongi’s red face. He looked incredibly disgruntled and Jung Hoseok lost it, rubbing Yoongi’s nose soothingly even though he wasn’t hurt. Kim Seokjin threw it back into the chaos by headbutting it.

And Kim Namjoon was nowhere to be found.

Jungkook frowned. Also, he needed to pee. He yelled around for the bathroom and someone pointed in some random direction. Jungkook followed it, his bladder ready to explode. Eh, if worse came to worse he could just find a random bush in the backyard or something. He opened random doors, but they either had more people or people in various stages of fucking. Then he saw the open bathroom door down the hallway and two people two feet away from the doorframe.

The two people being Kim Namjoon and the young woman he saw earlier.

Namjoon had his fingers curled around the silver ring on the choker, pulling down as he pressed her against the wall, making out with her exposed shoulder. His beige sweatshirt already had a red kiss print on the collar, paired with a purple hickey. Her palms were pressed flat, snickering as Namjoon rolled his hips into her ass.

Jungkook turned around and decided to find a fucking bush.

The second time he saw her, she was wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt, no pants, scratching the back of her head. Black ankle boots with black thigh-high stockings. He was at the dining hall, waiting in line. She sat at the of the tables, across Jung Hoseok. Even though it was the middle of the day, she still wore sharp black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain. She was nodding, one of her hands playing with Hoseok’s pastel tracksuit sleeve. Hoseok was blushing, looking a little sheepish. She just shook her head and said something. Hoseok’s cheeks grew redder and she leaned over.

And kissed him.

Jungkook blinked. The cashier snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Oh! Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

When he looked back, the table as empty.

The third time he saw her, he was at the club. He was knee-deep in an argument with Kim Taehyung about how building Iceborn Gauntlet was a lot more useful on Ezreal than Triforce because it allowed you to get off more autoattacks with the slows and helped you survive with the extra armor. Plus, the twenty-percent cooldown! Taehyung was rolling his eyes and telling him building damage was much better.

“Then build Infinity Edge if all you care about is damage!” Jungkook roared.

Park Jimin’s eyes were glazing over. “Guys, can we stop talking about League of Legends? I have no idea what you’re saying anymore…”

She caught his eye because she was wearing a pastel track jacket with a black t-shirt dress under it. And because she was pressed against Kim Seokjin in a booth, making his ears red as he spoke to her. The same sharp winged liner and a wine-red lipstick. She hooked a bare leg over Seokjin’s jeans. The older man jumped, but didn’t push it away. The silver tipped toe of her black boots rubbed against his other leg as she smiled. Her hand was on his navy t-shirt, tracing the embroidered white flowers. She placed her lips against Seokjin’s ear and whispered something. Seokjin’s plump lips opened into a small ‘o’. Her pink tongue slid out from between her lips and she licked his earlobe. Seokjin turned his head sharply to face her.

And she kissed him.

“Hah, here, got you a beer.”

Taehyung clinked the beer bottle down, still pouting. “I still think you’re wrong, but for Jimin’s sake I’ll shut up about it.”

Jimin whined. “Thank God, because I was starting to fucking lose it.”

When Jungkook remembered to look back at the booth, Seokjin and her were no longer there.

The fourth time he saw her, Jungkook was pissed.

He had gone to bathroom and came back to no friends. The fuck? Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had just fucking disappeared. Like, yes, Jungkook had to throw up to prevent himself from getting alcohol poisoning and had taken longer than he anticipated, but still. What month of university was this? Whatever, not late enough to get fucking abandoned. He could understand if one of them was trying to get laid, but they were not drunk enough to forget he existed without so much as a text.

Earlier, Jungkook had been dared to shotgun way too many beers in a row compared to the amount of money he won. He still won though, so that was lit.

Anyway!

He had to throw up because it was disgusting. And now he felt much better, except for the fact that his friends were fucking gone. Dumbasses.

This party house was much bigger, much louder, and much rowdier. Whoever owned this house was loaded and they had tons of alcohol. Jungkook even swore he had seen drugs, but his friends told him to be careful and not fuck around. Getting expelled wasn’t on Jungkook’s list of things to do anyway, so he didn’t even bother to look.

Instead, he went on a familiar routine of opening random ass doors to random ass people, either way too drunk to notice him or way too occupied with fucking to care about his existence. Whatever. Where the fuck were those two loons?

And then he opened the door Jimin and Taehyung were behind.

They didn’t see him. Jimin’s head was tipped back against the headboard of the king-sized bed, hands clasping the hair of a woman Jungkook was beginning to see way too often. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, and her head was between Jimin’s legs, her hands clutching his pink dress shirt and Taehyung railed her from behind, eyes closed, white t-shirt drenched with sweat. The rough movements made her shirt flutter. Jungkook spied the white, embroidered flowers amongst the navy folds.

Jungkook closed the door and decided it was time to go home. Fuck those guys.

Not literally.

Well, it was happening right now. Technically.

Jungkook sighed and marched back downstairs, trying to figure out how he was going to scrub his eyeballs to erase the image from his mind forever.

Jungkook liked to hang out at Min Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi didn’t live in the dorms because he was older and a grad student. Jungkook often went there to study because Yoongi practiced piano and guitar all the time. It was nice to study to some background music. Yoongi usually didn’t care if he was there or not. He had opened the door in a dark gray t-shirt with a skull graphic, yawning. The shorter man looked even shorter in his baggy black sweatpants.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yoongi mumbled. “Come in.”

Jungkook made himself at home, taking out his papers and textbooks on Yoongi’s coffee table. Yoongi busied himself around the apartment, making himself a coffee before going back to his bedroom which was also a makeshift studio. Soon, Jungkook began to hear synth beats, samples, and Yoongi’s pensive noises he made when he was thinking. This was fine too. Yoongi also often mixed music or was in the middle of making his own. Jungkook missed the piano, but rapper Yoongi was just as cool as piano Yoongi.

Jungkook stayed there for a while. Yoongi bought him lamb skewers for dinner. Sweet.

Maybe he shouldn’t party so much. This was nice too.

And now, a week later, Jungkook was staring at the same dark grey t-shirt he had seen that night at Yoongi’s. He was sure it was the same one, because he could see the skull graphic on the center of the shirt underneath her leather jacket. He tilted his head and frowned. She nodded and turned around, walking away from him. She didn’t say anything more.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung’s iPhone and then at her retreating back.

The fuck?

So, he waited.

Clearly, she knew who he was, because she had said his full name when they talked. Jungkook was going to ask Taehyung when he returned the phone, but Taehyung had just shrugged.

“Just hanging out. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet it was the end of the semester and…

Nothing.

The next semester started and still.

Nothing.

Jungkook saw her all right, wearing a pink dress shirt over a white t-shirt as she walked to the library, black backpack slung over her shoulder. Not just there, but fucking everywhere, at all the parties, all the clubs, in the hallways, and on his way to class. Wearing the clothes of his friends like they were badges of her conquests. They had to be, otherwise why the fuck would she have them? And none of his friends said anything. Nothing! Obviously, every single one of them had hooked up with this woman and every single one of them acted like they hadn’t. Even Min Yoongi, who was too lazy to even go to most of the parties or outings. How she had managed to bang him was beyond Jungkook.

And the fact that she didn’t even try to hook up with him was beginning to infuriate him.

He knew he wasn’t ugly. Jungkook received enough compliments to assure himself of that (plus his mom always reminded him, thanks Mom). He had drunken sex just like everyone else. It wasn’t like he didn’t make himself available. He was in her vicinity. In her orbit. Always on the periphery.

And she did nothing to acknowledge his existence.

Why?

Jungkook didn’t get it. And he didn’t like it either.

“Newton’s law of orbital motion.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glazing over. His professor’s voice was the equivalence of white noise. Why was Physics split over two semesters? Ugh. Whatever. That wasn’t the problem right now.

The problem was, he was going to get laid by this mysterious woman and he was going to do it at this weekend’s party.

Yeah, well, that was as far as Jungkook got with that. How was he supposed to start the conversation? Yo, you fucked all my friends, what gives? What about me? He could try to pick her up normally, but his ability of picking up women was talking to the ones he knew were interested in him first. And she was evidently not that, because he was just a damn asteroid floating mindlessly in her space. Probably not even an asteroid. Just a fleck of space dust.

He groaned and slumped down on his notebook, copying the stupid equation with a grumble.

Yoongi had a hickey and Jungkook knew who it came from because she was wearing the same black-and-white long-sleeved shirt Yoongi was wearing yesterday. Yoongi yawned and shrugged his jacket over it, but Jungkook saw it immediately.

What the fuck?

Jungkook fumed into his beer, the plastic cup shaking. How? Why?

And Yoongi again?

She was in the kitchen, chatting with a guy, stretching her arms he placed a mojito in front of her. The action made her shirt ride up and the short, short black shorts became visible. The hem sunk into her soft thighs, just a tad too small. It made Jungkook’s mouth water.

She thanked him before wandering back into the crowd, holding her cup. Ponytail bouncing, high-fiving some guys. Yoongi was on his phone, texting. Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t make it because of dance practice and Namjoon was working on some sort of seminar paper. Taehyung and Seokjin had dragged Yoongi out – “Eh, I have to watch out for you idiots anyway,” was Yoongi’s grumble as he picked up his car keys – and Jungkook tagged along because he was bored. Taehyung and Seokjin were playing was very drunk Twister for some reason and Yoongi had declined – “You’re all idiots” – leaving him with Jungkook. Which was fine, because Yoongi had a comfortable energy about him. Jungkook liked being in silence with him. Yoongi wasn’t drinking because he was driving.

So Jungkook was spacing out, watching her move amongst the crowd. Her free hand absentmindedly flicked up the back of her long shirt – well, Yoongi’s shirt technically – and pulled out her phone. The curve of her ass was clearly visible against the white parts of the shirt. She looked at it and typed something, hands tucked into the sleeves.

Yoongi’s phone buzzed next to him.

Jungkook’s mouth thinned into a line. He snuck a glance at Yoongi who, completely expressionless, responded. She was peering at her cell again and smirking.

Was it possible to pop a vein just by standing there?

Jungkook finished his beer.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook didn’t see Yoongi raising as eyebrow as he stalked off.

Was he overthinking this? Was it a conspiracy? His brow furrowed as he moved closer to her. She turned her head in his direction and her eyes widened.

And she bolted.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Jungkook ran after her, pushing through the crowd, but she was much faster and knew where she was going. Twenty seconds in and he had lost sight of her. He stood in the center of the packed patio, confused as shit. When he got back to Yoongi, Yoongi was listening to something with his headphones.

“Something happen?” Yoongi asked absentmindedly.

“Who’s the girl you fucked last night?”

Yoongi paused. He removed a headphone from his ear. He tucked his tongue in his cheek and looked up at Jungkook, who was putting on his best annoyed face. Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the crowd and then back to Jungkook. He shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

“Why is there a woman wearing your shirt?”

Yoongi frowned. “A shirt’s a shirt. Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?”

Jungkook made a face. He narrowed his eyes as Yoongi gave him a confused look.

“She just ran from me…”

Yoongi shrugged again. “I mean, you look really angry. I’d run from you too if I was a stranger.” He went back to his phone, scratching his cheek with his free hand. “Maybe she thought you were someone else.”

Was he going crazy?

The, uh, fifty-seventh? Who cared, Jungkook had lost count now. Once again, he spied her from across the sidewalk, in the crowd of students, holding three folders stuffed full with papers and balancing a coffee and her black backpack. Red crop top with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. At least it didn’t look like she had stolen anyone’s clothes this time… unless that jacket was from someone… Or even the crop top, because it wasn’t like Jungkook knew what her sexuality was to be honest.

Anyway!

Jungkook stopped walking. Their paths were going to cross if she continued walking. She took a sip from her coffee, leaving a red lipstick mark. She scowled at something on her folders. A piece of paper. She clicked her tongue, lashes looking downward, the same winged liner as usual. The paper flapped in the wind and she pushed it against her chest, looking perturbed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Er, hello.”

She didn’t even look at him. She was chewing her lip, thinking. Jungkook had to stand in front of her for her to realize he was speaking to her.

“Oh.” She snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking, tilting her head at him. “Um… Jeon Jungkook, right?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

She nodded. “Kim Taehyung’s friend, right?”

And Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin’s friend, he thought with annoyance.

She blinked at him.

“What do you want?”

To FUCK because obviously you fucked everyone else!

Jungkook didn’t say that. His id definitely wanted to say that, but his superego told him to shut the fuck up. So that left Jungkook scrambling to think of an answer.

“Ah… I just so happened to see you last weekend. At that big party in the white house.”

She blinked and nodded. “Uh… huh.”

She did not seem to remember that she ran from him. Okay, fine. Take two.

“The shirt you were wearing… it’s Yoongi-hyung’s, isn’t it? He asked if I could get it back,” Jungkook lied.

She frowned. “Min Yoongi? You know him too?”

“Yeah. He’s my close friend.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Huh. Alright, I’ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.”

Or fuck him, he thought bitterly. “You could just give it to me.”

She chuckled. “For one, I don’t have it with me. And, for two,” she continued, small smirk on her lips. “I’m not giving it back. Thus, Yoongi and I need to have a little discussion about that.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyway. Gotta get to class now, so see you, Jeon Jungkook.”

She brushed past him.

Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He spun around. She was already ten feet away. Students milled about, hurrying, hurrying. He didn’t have any classes after this.

He followed her.

He sat outside the lecture hall. It was an upper-level psychology class. He could see her from the small window in the door and fiddled with his phone. There were less than thirty students and everyone was listening intently to the animated professor. She was focused, writing notes and answering questions when asked. She looked… normal. Just a normal student with normal priorities. She didn’t look like someone who could take shots like a champ and fuck literally every single one of his friends.

Maybe Jungkook was the crazy one.

He frowned, staring at his phone. Why would Yoongi lie to him? Well, it wasn’t like he was obligated to tell Jungkook anything about his sex life. In fact, he was probably thrown off by Jungkook asking him straight out, because who the fuck does that? To top it all off, she didn’t actually have to fuck him if she didn’t want to. If for some reason she wasn’t attracted to him (possible, Jungkook thought), then why was he trying? That was just rude.

Jungkook spun his phone around in his hands. Then he got up and grabbed his bag. His eyes flickered to the door.

She was staring straight at him, one hand under her chin, smirk on her plump lips.

And she winked.

Jungkook froze. What? That was literally the only attention she had initiated with him during all his time at university. The class seemed to be on break, with students talking amongst themselves and the teacher sipping his coffee at his desk. She cocked her chin at him and then raised her phone, tapping the screen. He looked down at his, not even realizing he had a new message.

From Min Yoongi-hyung.

Why are you lying and involving me?

Jungkook jerked his head up, but she was facing the other way now.

He ran.

“Kind of weird that you don’t want to come to the party, but, okay, man,” Taehyung was saying. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Yeah, because if she was there, Jungkook could not look her in the face. He also couldn’t look Yoongi in the face either. Not that Yoongi ever brought it up again or even sent another text after that. Jungkook hadn’t even responded to it. He ran a hand through his long hair, staring in the mirror as Taehyung chatted with him.

“Alright, I’m off. Let me know if you decide to show up.”

Jungkook sat in his dorm, shirtless. He didn’t have a roommate – he had one of the few single rooms to himself. He didn’t really want a roommate and none of his friends lived on campus anyway. He liked his own space. Plus, it made fucking someone a lot less awkward if he was living alone. He fell back against the bed. He didn’t actually have a paper to write. He had written it earlier and it was good enough. He just…

Didn’t want to make a fucking fool of himself again.

Jungkook rubbed his forehead. This whole situation wasn’t even a situation. It was him in his head dreaming up stupid shit. It didn’t actually matter. It was only filling his head with confusing thoughts and indecision.

But still… why?

He placed his right forearm over his eyes. The black script tattoo was healing and he was planning to add more soon. He sighed, thinking. He worked out. Had a (more than) decent face. Got pretty good grades (for someone who didn’t try very hard). So, why? Did she really not consider it, not even once? They were around the same people, the same crowd, and never? Not even in a drunken stupor? Jungkook clicked his tongue. Did she have a type? It didn’t seem like it; everyone in his friend group was very different, looks-wise and personality-wise. She was attractive, of course. You couldn’t sleep with that many people and not be hot. Juicy thighs, perky ass, nice shape to her tits. A playful face with a smile that made you fall in love. Dimples on both cheeks when she laughed really hard. Ugh. So cute. Lovely-shaped lips that reminded Jungkook of Jimin’s.

Okay, that last thought was a little weird.

Anyway!

Jungkook sighed again. He sat up, intending to get on his computer and play something. Maybe Overwatch or League. He looked down at his gray sweatpants. Oh.

Well, maybe he should jack off first.

Before he could decide however, there was a knock on the door. The RA? He got up, shaking his sweatpants. Hopefully the bagginess would mask it. Plus, talking with the RA wasn’t sexy, so he was pretty sure his dick would pass out by then anyway.

Jungkook opened the door.

She smirked at him.

Jungkook closed the door.

She shoved her black boot in the opening, preventing him.

“No, you don’t, Jeon Jungkook.”

He backed up, shell-shocked. She pushed the door open and walked into his room. Hair over her shoulders, the same winged eyeliner and red lip stain. The black collar with the silver ring, the same one she had worn the first time he saw her. Pink dress shirt, the one she grabbed as Jimin face-fucked her. White t-shirt underneath, the one Taehyung had worn as he fucked her from behind. Both too big for her, so she wore no pants. Just thigh-high white socks and her thick-soled black boots with the silver tips, the ones she wore when she sat in the booth with Seokjin.

In short, Jungkook’s dick snapped to attention like a scared newbie army recruit.

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and raised her eyebrows at him. Jungkook seemed to come back to reality and slapped his arms across his chest. He was shirtless, after all.

“H-how did you figure out what dorm I was in?” he sputtered. “And w-what room?”

She tilted her head. “Friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend… of a friend,” she said slowly, tongue poking out a little from between her lips when she paused. “I know some people.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly. “W-well, why are you here?”

She kicked his door casually behind her. It slammed shut, making him jump.

“Because,” she drawled, holding up her hand, lowering a finger as she made each point. “One, you decided to speak to me, only to lie to my face. Two.” Another finger went down. “You stalked me outside my Psychology of Anger class. Three.” Down it went. “When you realized you got found out, you ran away. Four.” Down. “Every time you see me walking around campus, I see you throwing yourself in the opposite direction as if you’re being attacked. Yeah, I notice, because you’re not subtle about it,” she added, chuckling. Jungkook felt his ears turn red. “And finally, five.” Her hand was a fist now. “Before that, you gawked at me every time I happened to be within eyesight of you. With your big round eyes, almost as if you were spacing out. Sometimes with your mouth open.” She twisted her lips to one side for half a second. “Kind of disorienting, really.”

Jungkook thought back to all those moments. Her eyes on him when he saw Namjoon press her against the wall. Her eyes flickering towards him when she was at the table with Hoseok. The shift when she was kissing Seokjin at the booth. Oh, God. The half-second before he closed the door, her eye on him as she sucked Jimin off. The light on her face as she was reading Yoongi’s text on her phone, her pupils on him. She knew. She knew, she knew, she fucking knew.

Jungkook’s lips parted. “Then why… why did you run?”

She raised her eyebrow. Then she nodded her head slowly, finally understanding. “Ah. Yes, that time at the party. I thought you were some kind of weird stalker, honestly. I really don’t have time to spend on creeps.”

A shameful shiver slid down his back. She thought he was a creep. Of course, she did, because literally everything he witnessed was sexual in nature and he was fucking ogling the entire time, holy fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the rest of the guys straightened me out.”

Rest of the guys? What? THEY ALL KNEW TOO?

“You just want to fuck.”

God, Jungkook thought. If there is a God, please just open the Earth and throw me in Hell right now.

“I-I don’t–what–that’s preposterous–how would you even know–”

Jungkook was tripping over every word as she stood there, tapping her foot against the ground. He lost track of his thought and made a strange noise of defeat. Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Well, technically, I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I guessed and it looks like I guessed right.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh holyfuckingshitcrap.

If Taehyung or Jimin were witnessing this right now, they would have face-palmed.

She licked her lips. It made Jungkook’s stomach flutter uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I figured it would be better for you to be alone when I told you this.” She shrugged. One shoulder of the pink dress shirt fluttered down, revealing a shoulder. “It seemed like it might have been embarrassing for you, and judging by your beet-red face and tomato ears, I am correct.”

Jungkook slapped his hands on his cheeks. “W-what, of course not, hahaha…”

“You got a tent in your pants, kid.”

He looked down and tore his hands from his face to place them over his crotch. “Erm.”

She chuckled and shrugged again. “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll leave you be then. Just didn’t want things to be weird between us, that’s all. And found out you aren’t a creep. Only a shy, awkward boy.”

Then she turned around and reached for the door handle.

Jungkook crossed the space between them within two steps and slammed a hand on the door, preventing her from opening it.

“Wait.”

He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair had a warm, herbal scent. He could see the slope of the pink dress shirt, outlining her shoulder blades under the thin white t-shirt. He was so close that he could even spy he straps of her pink bra underneath the white fabric. Looked even further and he spotted the point that the dress shirt stuck out a bit from the curve of her ass.

“I’m not… a boy,” he said slowly. His voice came out lower than he thought.

He heard her make a light scoff.

“You expect answers without asking the questions,” she replied, still not turning around. “Not everything will be handed to you just because you’re cute.”

Pause.

“Boy.”

Jungkook knew how she managed to sleep with all of them now. She pressed every single one of his buttons, perfectly, within a single conversation. He placed his other hand on the door, fingers spread out. Took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, relishing in the softness. One of his hands slid down and snaked between the space of the door and her face, cupping her chin. He pushed it up so her eyes met his. Her teasing, perfect eyes.

“Wanna fuck, then?” he breathed against her forehead.

Her lips curved into a slow, foxlike smile. For a half-second, Jungkook thought she would say no.

“Now we’re talking.”

Jungkook had experience. He knew what women liked. But he did not know what this woman liked, because this woman was the embodiment of a fucking enigma. And at this point he was quite sure she had him mostly figured out. For instance, she pressed back against him, ass perched right on his cock, making him gasp. Her hand came up and she slid his fingers up her chin, opening her mouth slowly. He stared, transfixed. Her pink tongue slid out and she pushed two of his fingers in her mouth, wrapping her warm, wet tongue around them.

Sucking on them. Slipping her tongue around his fingers, single eyebrow lifted as she drenched them with saliva, so wet that his cock twitched at the thought of being in that hole. She placed her lips around them and used her tongue to push them to the roof of her mouth, sinking down to his knuckles.

Jungkook really couldn’t breathe, watching his dirty display of power.

Her hand was still wrapped around his. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, strings of saliva snapping as his fingers trailed out with a small pop. Jungkook shivered. The pink dress shirt was sliding down her arms, onto the floor.

She straightened her head and turned around slowly. She kicked the shirt aside, looking up at him through his lashes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was going to beat out of his chest.

“Why… why do you take their clothes?” Jungkook whispered.

She grinned. She looked down at his bare chest. Reached out, fingertips dancing in the air. Her nails slowly made their way up the ladder of his abs, eyes finding his once again.

“I like to remember who did a good job fucking me,” she replied steadily, so calm and cool that it was ruining him, driving him insane. “Let’s see if you’re so lucky.”

She flattened her palm against his toned pecs and let it slide up. Jungkook couldn’t look away from her face. She snaked her arm around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. She pulled his head back roughly.

He whimpered.

Help.

She got on her tiptoes; lips so close. Her other arm came around his waist. She rolled her hips into his. Delicious, sweet friction. Held him there as she dry-humped him, agonizingly slowly, breathing against his shaking lips. The only thing holding him up was his one hand against the door.

“You like that, little one?”

Jungkook wasn’t little. She was saying it to provoke him and it was working even though he didn’t want it to. He tried not to gasp or make any indication that he was enjoying it, but his hips were already moving, pushing back, frantic for more. Her tongue slithered out and brushed against his lips. He moaned. Had he ever been more desperate for a kiss? More desperate for anything more than just simple dry-humping at his fucking dorm door? Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling a little harder.

“What if I leave you here?” she taunted, digging her nails into his side. “What if I let go and leave you here, needy and lonely, without me to take care of you?”

What was going on? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to end up. Why couldn’t he collect himself?

“Please don’t…” he whined. His hand on the door balled into a fist. “Please.”

She kissed him.

Oh, fuck.

Lips so soft, barely any pressure, tongue on his lips. Poking, teasing him. Jungkook moaned, mouth opening and the tip barely thrust in. His whole body shivered as she slid it in and out between his lips. There wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough pressure, not enough tongue, not enough forcefulness. He whined, jerking his hips into hers, trying to suck her tongue into his mouth, but it slipped away every time. Then her lips pressed fully against his and she mouthed the words on his lips. He knew what she said even before the sound touched his ears.

“Want more, little one?”

Yes. Oh, please, yes.

But he couldn’t say it because his lips were trapped against hers. She softly kissed him, over and over, hardly deep enough or passionate enough for his liking, infuriatingly not adequate and all of it on purpose. She pushed him into the room, away from the door, making him stumble. Jungkook could only break apart for half a second to choke out one word – “shoes” – but she was already removing her arm from his waist, zipping down her boot and kicking it aside, and then the other, pushing his head down to hers the entire time so she could make out with him.

Then, she pushed them apart.

He nearly tripped, forced to take several steps back. He was panting, out of breath as if he had been running for a long time. Jungkook lifted his head to her crafty expression. He could be the dominant one. He knew he could. But she wasn’t letting him. She had him in the palm of her hand, even now, even in this slight second of breath, the single moment of sanity, and then it was gone because she was lifting her shirt, the white t-shirt crumpling and thrown aside, landing on his desk, on his laptop. The pink, polka-dotted bra molded to her sinful breasts, so innocent-looking. They matched the tiny pink polka-dotted panties that pressed into her skin, complimenting her white thigh-high stockings that clamped around the softness.

His brain?

Broken. It was frozen at this image of this hot-as-fuck woman dropping to her knees and crawling on her hands towards him. Each movement a little closer, a lion stalking her prey and he was the frozen antelope, unable to run. She stopped right in front of him, straightening. And then, the smallest detail, spreading her thighs so he could see the faint wet spot between her panties. He could see her cleavage, the curve of her breasts as she trailed her hands up her thighs, her stomach, bending around her breasts, up her neck, tracing the silver ring and black leather of her choker, mouth opening to her wet tongue, a single fingertip touching the end.

“Wanna be in here, little one?” she murmured around her finger, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck yes.”

If Jungkook could gather his last two brain cells, he would have sounded a whole lot less desperate, but at the moment those two brain cells had abandoned their post, leaving him an absolute mess as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and dragged them down, down, exposing his leaking cock out in the open. Fuck, she looked so smug and he couldn’t do anything about it as she leaned in with a soft kitten lick, wiping it away.

“Let me ask you something before I start,” she purred.

Jungkook blinked. “O-okay…”

“Were you upset that I fucked all your friends and never, ever asked you?”

His eyes widened.

She smirked and wrapped her lips around his cock. His brain cells came back from their lunch break to Jungkook screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, deep, slow, wet. Tongue rubbing all around him, hands gripping his hips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t want to mess with her pace so he curled them into fists, sinking his nails into his palms as he moaned, feeling the head smack the back of her throat, muscles squeezing him hard and tight. Because she had been so soft and teasing less than ten seconds ago, Jungkook was not prepared for this wild intensity. She was literally deep-throating his cock like nobody’s business and he was trying very, very hard not to bust his load within seconds because that would be fucking embarrassing as shit. He forced his eyes open to look down at her, panting.

“S-stop…” he pleaded, but she wasn’t stopping. “P-please, stop, I want to f-fuck you.”

The slightest tick of her eyebrow. She stared up at him. It was too sexy. He chomped down on his tongue, anything to feel something else than the overwhelming pleasure from being in her mouth.

“P-please… want to fuck your p-pussy…”

She slowed, still making eye contact with him. She didn’t completely stop until she was all the way down his cock, saliva dripping out and down his balls. She didn’t get off him. Just watched him, pulsing her throat around his dick. Jungkook got it. She wanted him to beg. Her throat squeezed him extra hard and he whimpered. He bit his lower lip.

Pride? What pride?

“Please…” Oh, God, was that him? That wretched, pitiful whine, so wrecked and barely anything happened. “Please, let me fuck your pussy. Let me inside you. Let me pleasure you.” She blinked slowly. Not enough. “You made me wait so long…” His eyes raked over her sensual body, his skin burning. “You fucked them all and made me wait, made me want you, made me think about you all the time, made me crazy knowing everyone had you, but me.”

What even was this? He had never begged like this in his entire life, but he was ruined and destroyed by this beautiful woman whose red lips were around his cock.

“I want you to use my cock and make you cum, just for me. Want you to watch me when I fuck you, want you to moan for me, want you to say my name with those lips.”

Her eyes sparkled. She drew back, slowly. His cock achingly, deliberately popped out of her tight, wet mouth and he cried out softly, almost regretful that he didn’t ask for her to finish him then. She got off her knees, sliding up his body, his cock hitting her stomach and then her thigh, smearing saliva and pre-cum on her smooth skin. She pursed her lips against his, the tiniest peck, and he could taste himself, a slight hint of his own cum.

“Alright, Jungkook,” she said slowly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a condom. Of course, she had a condom in her bra. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

She smacked the warm foil packet against his chest.

Fuck, the way she said his name. So velvety, so wanton. She moved past him and Jungkook turned around, condom in hand, watching as she faced him, unhooking her pink bra. It peeled off her body and dropped to the floor, tits bouncing. She pressed her hard nipples in between two fingers and tugged, giving him a little gasp and a peek of her pink tongue from between her plump lips. He followed, swallowing hard as she backed up to his bed, hopping up and sliding back. Jungkook made it to the end of his bed and watched as she linked two fingers on the sides of her panties and pushed them down, lifting her legs up and together as she slid them off.

Thus, providing Jungkook with a shockingly clear view of her glistening pussy lips.

She lowered her legs and spread them. Wearing nothing but those white thigh-high socks and the black choker around her neck.

“Holy fuck.”

She smirked. “Come here, little one.”

At this point, he was beginning to enjoy this nickname. Either that or Jungkook was so horny that she could call him anything and he was still going to climb onto the bed, chewing on his lip, hand over hand, breath hitching as he neared, smelling her arousal. His eyes flickered to hers. She tilted her head and nodded. He bent down and licked her slit, long and slow, groaning as her sweet, thick taste coated his tongue. Oh, if only he had more patience to eat her out. Instead, his cock was dripping an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his sheets, so he got to his knees, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on, somewhat grateful for it so that he wouldn’t explode within two seconds of being inside her. He positioned himself at her entrance, lifting her legs.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

He shifted his attention to her face. He felt her hand reach down and guide him to the correct angle.

“Look at me when you go in,” she said, smirking.

His eyes widened as he pushed inward, slow, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her warmth cover him and shake him to his core, her eyes boring into his, satisfaction glittering in those orbs as he gasped at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. Breathing so shallow Jungkook felt like he was ready to pass out, thrusting the last of his cock inside her so he was fully buried, his entire length squeezed by her pussy.

She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his long dark hair. She pulled lightly and he moaned, lips trembling.

“You like that, little one?” she murmured, lips against his cheek, licking him lightly. “You like your hair pulled?” She kissed his chiseled jaw, clenching around his cock.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “A l-little…”

Her tongue wrapped around his earlobe, playing with his earrings. He could feel her hard nipples rub against his chest as she pressed her body against him. She pulled again and he moaned into her ear, shuddering as she paired the pain with the pulse of her pussy.

“I like the sounds you make,” she whispered. “Let me mark you, little one.”

He swallowed, still unable to move because he was in her gravity now, lost in her smokey voice.

“Yes, please…”

She kissed down his ear softly, lips against the pulse point under his ear. She bit his skin, sucking hard, rolling her hips onto his cock. His eyelids fluttered as she bit him, hard and unforgiving. Sharp, wet sounds. He whimpered and she ran her tongue over the bruised skin before kissing down further, finding the spot where his neck and shoulder connected. She pressed her lips against it and he swallowed in anticipation.

“Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah?”

He could feel her lips form the words she was spoke into his skin.

“Your cock feels nice inside me.”

She bit him again, hard. His eyes rolled back into his head, cock swelling at the compliment and the pain radiating through him as she pulled on his hair, sucking his skin, rutting her wet, tight pussy onto his cock. The euphoric ecstasy was unlike anything Jungkook had ever felt before. It was just a hickey and some hair pulling while he was cock-deep into a woman, but it was so much more, the soft kitten licks as she soothed the irritated flesh, the rubbing of his scalp, and the throbbing around his cock.

She finally let him go, leaning back. Her hair fanned out on his pillows, lipstick smeared, tongue between her teeth. He really thought the first time was going to be at some shitty party where he was half-drunk and confused, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. Instead, she cocked her chin at him, giving him an open-mouthed smirk as she looked up at him from his bed.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He began to move, starting slow and deep, gasping at the feeling. Her eyes drifted from his face to his cock moving in and out of her, then back up to his face. She was letting him do as he wanted, he knew. Jungkook could tell from her expression, giving him the reins for once. He scooted up, still fucking her leisurely as he lifted his hands and touched her nipples with his fingertips. He pushed them in a circle, rubbing them, closing his eyes. They were hard but soft, so fun to touch as he thrust his cock inside her. He pinched them and he whimpered as her pussy squeezed him. He did it again and felt it again. He cupped her breasts and did it again, pulling a little his time. She made a breathless moan and he opened his eyes, seeing hers shrouded with lust. He held her nipple between his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to rub the hardened nub. She gasped softly, whispering his name.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jungkook panted, feeling his hips thrust harder, spurred on by her noises. She pressed her head against his pillows, crying out as he increased his pace, rubbing her nipples harder.

“Harder, little one,” she purred, rolling her hips into his. “Want to feel your cock in the deepest parts of me.”

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she moaned with a teasing smile as he let go, placing his hands back on the bed for leverage. His long hair brushed into his eyes but he didn’t care, ramming his hips into her, hearing the harsh, loud slap of their bodies. She hissed out his name, tipping her head back as she lifted her arms above her head, clutching his pillows.

“That’s it, Jungkook,” she panted as he pounded her into his bed, feeling her pussy tighten and throb around him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

He did, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

“Need you to cum for me,” he growled, surprised at his own rawness. “Need you to cum all over my cock. Need to feel you.” A hint of desperation juxtaposed with his order. He wanted her to fall apart with his cock, wanted to watch her unravel as she came with his cock.

She cracked her eyes open and wrapped her legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him. Oh, fuck. Eyes that said, go for it. Do it if you can.

He rammed his hips into her, pounding into her over and over, so hard the bed squealed at the force, so deep her fingers gripping his sheets were white, her moans filling his room, imprinting in his memory.

“A-ah, Jungkooooook.”

His name dragged out, mixed with a moan, cock twitching at her back arching, tits bouncing with his thrusts.

“So good, so good… Gonna cum for you, just for you, Jungkook...”

And then he felt it, the heated, throbbing squeeze and the instant squelch of liquid dripping out and sliding down his balls, soaking into his sheets. The scent of her sex so heavy and sweet that he was drunk, slowing so he could feel her pussy pulsating around him, vibrating his entire length.

“W-why do you feel so good?” he whined, shoving his cock so deep she jerked up his pillows. She chuckled, but he kept going, back to his rough pace, because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to cum. He needed it now, deep inside her pussy, her scent on his skin, her foxy eyes on him.

“You wanna cum for me, little one?” she panted out, licking her lips. “Want to feel your cock get milked by my pussy?”

Jungkook sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as he nodded fiercely, unable to respond. She reached up and he knew what was coming and he wanted it, wanted it so fucking bad. His long hair was smacking him in the face but she collected it back, only leaving a few strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Fill me up.”

And then she yanked on his hair, hard, tearing a gasp from his lips. The pain shot through him, igniting every nerve, the pleasure of her pussy clenching him as he kept going, slapping his hips into hers, feeling the pull on his hair every time he sank in. Jungkook was doing it to himself now and he loved every second of it. The familiar tightening coiled inside him, so sharp and sudden that he almost screamed as he came, the orgasm racking his entire body as she pulled his head back with his hair, moaning with him as she came again, throbbing as he shot into the condom, cock jerking with force against her walls.

His whole body shuddered as the aftershocks faded. Oh, shit. He was winded, throat dry. Someone must have heard. Holy fuck. Jungkook had never cum so hard in his entire life.

Her hand let go of his hair. She rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes, his body rising and falling as he exhaled.

“Did I live up to your expectations, little one?”

The next day, Jungkook ran into Taehyung at the usual coffee spot. It was the weekend, so Jungkook hadn’t expected to see him. Taehyung looked super hungover and barely alive as he ordered a coffee in his raspy, deep voice.

“Damn, are you dead?” Jungkook asked playfully as Taehyung stumbled to him, trying not to spill his coffee. Taehyung hated coffee, so he must have really needed it for some reason or another.

“Probably. I forgot I have a paper due on Monday.” He took a sip of it and made a disgusted face. “I hate this shit.”

Jungkook spied her walking up to the counter. She rubbed her chin and ordered a tea, handing over her card. She was wearing a white crop top, black baseball cap, and short leather jacket.

And his gray sweatpants.

Taehyung squinted at his neck.

“The fuck happened to you? Someone punch you in the neck?”

Jungkook slapped a hand over his hickey. “Er…”

She breezed past them, not looking at them as she hurried along, checking her phone for the time. Taehyung whipped his head around, recognizing her instantly. And the sweatpants.

“Yah! She told me she was going to study!” He whipped his head back to Jungkook, who looked away immediately. “Study your dick, apparently!”

“Uh…”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and grumbled as he walked away.

“Well, get in line, bitch.”

sister story: meteor, m | myg

masterpost

note: Yes, I am aware League of Legends has changed the entire item inventory for 2021 preseason. I haven’t played the new patch since I wrote this. Just pretend this all happened before the preseason patch, okay? lol

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic

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