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goldengirlls · 2 years

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tidal waves and breast strokes

warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, jewelry kink, hand kink and shirtless daddy rafe cameron in all glory

summary: swimming is a great form of exercise.

a/n: I’m here to get y’all wet. I'm a whore and y’all are whores so here y’all go!! Always use two hands while reading. I feel like I should dedicate each one to someone, so if you have a sport that you love, message me!!

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Just as much you had been ogling over him he had been in fucking heavan the moment you showed up to his house. The second you stepped foot outside you had his attention. Fuck who was he kidding you always had his attention, and right now he was painfully hard. Your itty fucking bitty sheer bikini was driving him crazy. The ties of your bottoms hug your hips in the most enticing way, begging for him to untie them. Your tits standing firm, nipples begging for his lips to be on them. Your gold dainty belly chain that rested on your tan, dripping hips. Earlier you had leaned over the side of the pool, chest resting against the warm concrete; which gave him the perfect outline of your pussy. His pussy.

“Y/n what’s your favorite relay?” Sarah’s attention fully on you as the two of you sat the table, “Mine’s freestyle. Easy but very effective.” Hands coming to rest in front of her.

“Breaststroke. There’s something so enticing about it, powerful in a sense.” Your bambi eyes finding Rafe’s covered eyes. His tongue coming to run on his bottom lip as he sat back, his right leg coming into contact with his left knee and leaning back.

He knew what you were doing, and he fucking loved it. Completely toning out the conversation. He loved watching you swim the breaststroke. The way your tits popped out of the water every time your arms circled in and out of the water. What he would do to have your tits pressed against his face at this moment. Fuck. He was hard and he knew you were soaking wet.

“Sarah, why don't you go find your boyfriend or anyone else to bother for a bit? I need to talk to y/n.” His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“Wait where is Topper?” Her head turned side to side as she looked for her boyfriend, not understanding when he had left this conversation.

“Don’t know. Go find him.”

You popped up from your seat and made your way into the pool swaying your hips as you dove right into the cold pool. Goosebumps littered your skin in the best way possible.

“You’re a fucking tease baby.” His voice low and husky as he made his way into the pool and caged you in between him and the side of the pool. Glasses forgotton and the blue eyes now replaced with ones that were several shades darker.

“Prehaps but, I’m your fucking tease.” Pressing the front of your body against him and pressing a little harder against his hard cock. “And I know for a fact that you love it.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” His bottom lip now trapped between his teeth and his eyes daring you to continue. Two can play this game. Your fingers find the strings of your top and slowly pull your top off. HIs eyes falling to your exposed chest and letting out a deep and needy groan.

“That's why baby.” Eyes flickered between his eyes and incredibly hard cock.

Your arms quickly snake around his shoulders digging your nails into the back of his neck and pressing your puffy lips against his. His fingers teasing your nipples making them harder the more he touches them. Leaving a burning sensation every time he touches you. Your legs wrapping around him, grinding into him begging for him to take a swim in you.

“God so you’re fucking pretty Angel” His voice laced with a smug smirk as he leaned back to take in the sight in front of him. Nipples exceedingly hard, lips tainted with the taste of him and he was positive that he dipped his hand into your bikini he’d find you soaking wet. So he was going to test his theory.

Fuck. He was hard and needed to feel you clenching around him so desperately but he knew he needed to taste you. His hands ripping off your bottoms and grabbing you and placing you on the edge of the pool. Legs draped into the pool, bambi hooded eyes and your chest heaving up and down. Rafe swore he could cum right now looking at you. Naked and needy on the side of the pool where anyone could easily see you.

His fingers gliding down your wet body. Tracing your nipples slowly and delicately and down to your pussy where he plunged two fingers into you and a moan rippled through the hot summer air.

“Fuck. You're soaking wet baby. Both inside and out.” He threw your legs over his shoulders and his lips quickly finding home on your clit and tracing Rafe everywhere all over your clit.

“Fuck me daddy.” You whined out bucking your hips everytime he took his fingers deeper in you. The desire for his hands and fingers was beyond anything you had ever experienced.

“How dare you walk around looking like a goddamn goddess and tasting even better than you did yesterday.” He grunted out as he slammed his forefinger and middle finger into you. The feeling of his cold rings leaving a lingering feeling everytime he pumped them in and out of you. Faster and deeper each time he pulled in and out. You’re mind fuzzy and completely fucked out at this point.

He knew you were close because you began clenching around him and he needed you to cum. He needed to taste you more than anything. Seconds later your orgasm ripped through your body and splashed all over his lips and tongue.

“I swear I’m drunk off the taste of your pussy. So fucking sweet. Just like candy.” His tongue swiping over his lips as your eyes followed every movement he made. “Now get your ass back in the pool so I can fuck you and cause a Tidal wave angel.”

His hands quickly fumbled with his shorts, throwing them somewhere to be found later as you slid back into the pool and connected your lips to his. The taste of you on his tongue and lips now being shared with you. Your dainty hands met his cock as you stroked him, his hands bruising the sides of your hips the more you pumped him. His lips sucking on the side of your neck leaving red marks to be covered later.

“I need to feel you around me now.” He took your legs and wrapped them around him as he eased himself into you. His fingers finding your nipples as he began to pinch and roll them. The moans out of your mouth sounded something out of a porno. This was his porn, you were his porn.

He loved your tits. Absolutely enamored with them. Watching them bounce up and down. Rafe Cameron was very much a boob man and he fucking loved yours. Your nipples just the right size, your tits themselves just big enough to fit into his hands and when his lips found their place around your nipples that sent him into total fucking oblivion. The water rippling around the two of you.

“I’ll never get tired of swimming in you. The way my cock fills you perfectly, it’s like your pussy was molded to fit my cock in you.” His thrusts hard and deep. Filling all of you up. “My favorite fucking girl.” He grunted out.

The words falling from his lips only make you fall into a deeper state of euphoria. The way he talked about fucking you made you impossibly wetter. Each thrust is precise and hard.

“Fuck y/n your pussy just keeps sucking me in. Never wanna stop fucking you. Maybe I should just fuck a baby into you, would you like that?” His hips meeting yours every word he spoke. The only response he received was a moan. “I know I would. Fuck I might just do it. Your stomach filled with the constant reminder that I did that. Your swollen pussy day and night. God your tits would be massive and need me all the time baby. I could give them the attention they deserve. Let me fuck a baby into you Angel.” His forehead pressed against yours as you drove your nails into the back of neck and back.

“Need you to fill me daddy.” Your body pressed against him, “Let me feel you drip out of me.” You spoke in his ear and connected your lips to his sweet spot, right below his ear.

“Need you’t cum first. Be a good girl and cum for daddy right now. I know you want to. I can feel you clenching angel. Cum for daddy.”

Your bambi hooded eyes took in the picture in front of you. His lips parted, his hair stuck to his forehead and his muscles bulging in every direction as he held you up in the pool was all it took to make you cum. Shortly followed by the angelic man in front of you.

“A tidal fucking wave.” He smirked at you.

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing xvi.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: jk and oc :(

words: 5, 820

summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing

a/n:

at the end of the chap!!!

“Babe, you better close your lips,” Yena nudges your shoulders when the two of you approach the football field with treats of your own.

“I’m not … drooling,” you reply lamely, fingers clutching the bag of food and refreshments tightly in your grasp as if it would run away.

“I wasn’t talking about your mouth,” she smirks.

Your head snaps towards her in a flush, ears immediately turning red when she resorts to snickering at your scandalised expression. You thwack her on her shoulder, flustered at the cackles she’s releasing. The food in your hands remains unscathed, purely because you spent a good amount of time preparing it for the boys—knowing that they were entering an important season for their football games.

From where the two of you were walking from, you had a decent view of the football team sprawled across the field, likely resting from one of their many intensive practices. You weren’t concerned with anyone else, and given Jungkook’s flashy hair colour—it was only natural that your eyes immediately fell onto his figure. It also just so happened that Jungkook decided to take his break—shirtless.

You shake your head to snap out of your daydream, fully aware of the way that Yena shoots you a knowing smirk.

“Okay, shut up before you blow my cover,” you hiss.

“You’re telling me that when your face screams I want to lick the sweat of Jungkook’s pectorals—!”

You’re about to drop the food aside, fully ready to attack Yena who looks all too pleased with her teasing, but another voice interjects before you can do any real harm to your friend.

“Is Yena harassing you?”

Yena snaps her head to the source of the voice and immediately narrows her eyes at the smirking figure.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Min,” she snaps.

“Was I talking to you?” He rolls his eyes before turning over to give you a smile, “Hey, ____. Here to feed the dogs?”

You snort, casting a sideways glance to Yena who’s equal parts fuming and red—and you’re definitely sure that it wasn’t because of her apparent anger. The lingering glance that Yoongi rests on her figure with a fond smile tells you enough, and you hide the grin that threatens to appear on your face as you return a kind one to Yoongi.

“Spot on. You’re here to cover their practices?” You make small talk as the three of you make your way towards the football team, most of them too immersed in whatever Namjoon was saying to take note of your approaching figures.

He lets out a deep sigh before nodding, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“You wanted coverage for next months paper, didn’t you?” He teasingly accuses.

You duck your head in embarrassment, remembering the meeting you had with the student reporter union and your exact words. You did need an article written on the football team’s practices for publicity purposes, and you briefly remembered Yoongi and Yena bumping heads on multiple occasions on who was to cover it. Clearly, Yoongi won—or more appropriately, Yena surrendered due to his ‘irritating’ personality.

“I did,” you smile apologetically, “Hopefully it isn’t that bad.”

“All he does is complain,” Yena mutters under her breath.

Yoongi raises a brow with an amused smirk on his face.

“I would’ve been complaining less if I had someone accompanying me,” he says pointedly.

You briefly note the flush on Yena’s cheeks before she grumbles something incoherent under her breath, shoving a fist into Yoongi’s arm in retaliation as he snickers at her reaction. You smile to yourself, eyes turning fond when you realise that Yoongi doesn’t back away even as she bites. All he does is let her have her way, patiently sticking by her side while he placates her growls.

You reach the circle where the footballers were gathered as you quietly tiptoed your way towards the bleachers, setting the food down and taking them out so they could dig in right after they were done. You brought enough for the entire team—but you were still worried since they were male athletes who definitely had an appetite for victory and your sandwiches. You hoped it’d suffice.

Just as you’ve settled down, Jimin spots you when his head snaps up, offering you a wide grin along with nudges to Namjoon and Taehyung’s shoulder. The rest of the team follow the direction of his eyes, and you turn red at the sudden attention of all the men on you as you offer a meek wave, avoiding any real eye contact.

“You came!” Jimin hops towards you, immediately dragging you into a hug as he nuzzles his sweaty forehead into your neck.

You grimace and push him away, scrunching your face at the wetness that sticks to your skin at his contact.

“Ew, you stink,” you whine.

He rolls his eyes before he digs through the food, showing his true intentions on why he came over in the first place.

“And you are an angel,” he coos, pinching your cheeks while you smacked his hand away.

“How was practice?” You hum for the sake of conversation while you watch the boy scarf down your sandwiches like a starved man.

He looks up with stuffed cheeks, pausing in his chomps, “Brufal.”

You offer him a sympathetic smile before squeezing his shoulder.

“All in good time, right?”

He swallows, rolling his eyes in response.

“Said every optimist ever. I just want this season to be over so I can go back to pigging out.”

You snort but you don’t deny his statement. You watch him while he continues to munch on his meal. Something was fulfilling about watching him enjoy your preparations, and you were definitely the type to enjoy taking care of your friends. You were usually the friend that provided advice and comforted people whenever they were faced with a particularly difficult time, and you’ve heard on several occasions from both Jimin, Taehyung—and even Jungkook; that you somehow knew what to do, and say, whenever they were faced with a problem.

It’s nice, to see Jimin happy, and you note to visit more during their practices with food.

“You’re too nice, do you know?” A voice interjects.

You look up from Jimin to see Namjoon walking towards you, with Jungkook and Taehyung trailing behind him. You flush ever so slightly because you briefly remember the last time you saw Jungkook and what happened. It’s been busy for the both of you so you weren’t able to see him much on campus either.

“Stop saying that,” you scowl, “And eat up before Jimin shovels everything down this throat.”

You thrust a wrapped sandwich into his chest that he receives with a dimpled grin. Namjoon wraps a loose arm around your shoulder as thanks and you still grimace at the sweat that lingers on your skin—but you realise that it’s an inevitable part of the role you took, so you sigh and accept it.

“Let’s get married if we both don’t by 35,” Taehyung suggests the moment he’s handed a sandwich of his own as you raise a brow at his proposition.

“So I can make you sandwiches?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Sounds pretty misogynistic to me,” you snort, “Make your own damn sandwiches.”

“But they’re not the same,” he whines, “It’s your essence that makes it taste so much better!”

You laugh at his desperate explanation and the wiggle of his eyebrows at his insinuation. You’re thankful he doesn’t smother you with his sweat and only grants you a grateful mumble of appreciation before he’s joining his other brain cell on the bleachers, immediately bickering away about whatever topic they decided on for the day.

When Jungkook comes up for his turn, you can’t keep eye contact. Especially when he’s still in his shirtless glory while he looks at you with those eyes of his, paired with his cheeky grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you hate him for it.

“Where’s my sandwich?” He asks, propping himself right in front of you, leaving you no space to breathe or to move away from him.

“There,” you point to the bag rather than handing him one like you did with the rest, “Help yourself.”

Jungkook pouts, tilting his head to the side as he chases your expression to search for your eyes. You’re still avoiding his gaze, and you feel like you’re beginning to perspire at the way he’s blatant with his ogling. The two of you were in public, and your friends have sat a few metres away from you with the rest of his football team lingering nearby and somehow the idea of people seeing the two of you so close gives you anxiety.

“You’re not going to give me one?” He asks.

“You have perfectly usable hands,” you gesture, and you immediately regret it because when you turn to look at him—his arms flex under the ministration when he cages you in with his body.

You let out a yelp, head immediately darting to the side to see whether or not anyone else was paying attention. But your friends are still caught in their own conversation, except Yena who somehow has a sixth sense for your embarrassment—and shoots the two of you a sleazy wink before tonguing the inside of her cheek.

Jungkook catches this, and you’re mortified to see the way his eyebrow raises at Yena’s gesture.

“You gossiping about me to your friend?” He teases.

You know exactly what he’s referring to. You scowl in response, sticking your nose up while you glance in the other direction; away from his smirk.

“Gossiping entails that whatever I said was negative. So, do what you want with that information,” you shrug.

Jungkook tuts, shaking his head before he lets out an amused chuckle.

“Always so bratty,” he sighs, “That smart mouth of yours loves to run itself, hm?” The shift to a much huskier tone stuns you into silence because he’s suddenly much closer, more insinuative and daring with the way he leans his face closer to yours until you’re finding it hard to breathe.

“We’re in public, Jeon,” you hiss.

He snickers, “No one cares except for you.”

“I’m not about to give everyone a free show,” you saw pointedly.

Jungkook smirks, “Who said anything about a show? Can’t I just have you close to me without it meaning anything else?”

You freeze. You know Jungkook doesn’t mean it that way, but you suppose it’s the remnants of insecurity that lingers deep in the back of your mind that makes your heart drop ever so slightly. You know how he feels; how his words are meant to be a light jibe towards you. But your collateral mind can only ask, what if?

As if Jungkook’s picked up on the reason for your silence, or perhaps he was just that good at reading you and your body language, he frowns—immediately reaching a hand to your shoulder and squeezing it to get your attention.

“Hey,” he says softly, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You feel bad that he has to clarify himself when you yourself wanted to have faith in him—you did. It was more so that you lacked that same faith in yourself. To be that someone to Jungkook even when he’s made it clear to you about he felt. But you knew Jungkook to be the type that jumped from one interest to another like he was flipping through a brochure, and you didn’t mean it maliciously either.

Jungkook just liked a lot of things and could do well in a lot of things too once his mind is set. You were just terrified if that’s all you were to him. A phase that he’s got to experience in his life because it was interesting to him now.

“Sorry,” you whisper, eyes darting to your feet, “I … I know. It’s just—I’m just overthinking. It’s dumb.”

He frowns, “If it’s bothering you it’s not dumb.”

You sigh.

“No, it is,” you emphasise, balling your fist by your side as he looks at you attentively. You hate yourself a little more for being so unsure. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind just—it just thinks the worst of every situation. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to appreciate the way you’re continuously apologising or avoiding his gaze, so he takes it up himself to reach out his hands to tilt your chin upwards so that you’re looking at him. He’s always loved looking at you, whether you were studying, driving, or even just daydreaming—he loved your eyes and he’d spend most of his days just staring at you.

“I want you. I always want you,” he says and it both takes your breath away and makes your heart pound rapidly against your ribcage, “Everything that I do with you means the world to me. You mean the world to me and I don’t want to fuck this up. I fucked up once and I—I don’t want to mess this up either. So please, if you’re bothered—tell me. I want to know. I want to ease any of your worries now because I wasn’t able to do that before.”

Jungkook speaks so softly that you may have missed the sincerity and desperation laced in his tone, the hushed utterance of his truth that only you were meant to hear. He looks at you so tenderly, so authentically that you feel your heart constrict both in want and guilt. The reassuring grasp of one hand on your hip while the other rests under your chin forces you to acknowledge his sincerity—his want, and most importantly; him.

He notices it before you do, and his thumb wipes under your eyes when you feel the first teardrop. Your face morphs into a wide-eyed expression when you quickly swipe under your eyes to erase the evidence of your heart worn on your face. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you to get far, and he uses his strength to stop your wrists—forcing you to peer up at him with red-rimmed and freshly-swollen eyes.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs.

“Jungkook—” you protest, pushing his hands away but it only makes him clutch you tighter.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, “It’s okay. Just cry if you have to.”

Your face crumbles because Jungkook can be both strict but earnest at the same time. It was conflicting for you not because you didn’t know how you felt but because you cared too much about the prying eyes of others. Even now, when Jungkook only looks at you—your mind strays to the people that talk, to the people that stare and wonder. And you hate it.

“We’re in public, Jungkook,” you say softly through a shaky breath.

You put some distance between the two of you by taking a step back, and Jungkook notices. Of course, he does, especially when space he once felt warmth turns cold. He frowns because he would rather hold you close—show the world and everyone that he loved you. But your eyes stray away, darting everywhere but his face.

“I don’t care,” he huffs, “I want you.”

And no matter how many times he says it, the pessimistic side of you nags at your heart to keep it safe. To keep things under wraps so that you could avoid wandering or curious gaze; especially when anyone could see or say anything.

“I know,” you tell him.

Jungkook scoffs and your eyes shoot up when you realise that Jungkook’s annoyed. The tick in his jaw tells you enough, especially when he takes a step back—placing that distance between the two of you. It sucks when you’re on the receiving end of such coldness and you can’t imagine how Jungkook felt when you pushed him away.

“Do you?” He exasperates, “I’m patient. I am. I’ll wait for you; I told you that and I meant it,” he frowns, “But I just want to hold you. I wanted this for the longest of times and I don’t care where we are in this world because that’ll never make me stop wanting you. I want you when we’re apart, I want you when we’re together and I want you now. When will that be enough?”

Jungkook takes your breath away again, but for different reasons. This time, he sounds tired—desperate, almost. He rubs his hands across his face in frustration and you can tell he’s trying his best to level his breathing. You stand there silent, lips pursed as you mull over his words.

“It is enough,” you tell him, eyes peering up on your own; but this time Jungkook isn’t looking at you and it makes your heart clench. His eyebrows are furrowed and the only thing you can catch a glimpse of is the side of his face. “I just … people talk, Jungkook. I know you’re used to that but I’m not. I don’t like it when people are in my business.”

He scoffs, “And now it’s other people that are standing in between us?” Your eyes narrow at him but the clench of his jaw tells you that he’s not stepping down either, “I am, I’m used to people talking about me whether it be good or bad. And I know you don’t like it—I know,” he exasperates, “But when will we just be enough of a reason for you to take that leap of faith?”

“It’s not that easy—”

“Of course it isn’t!” He exclaims, “I’m not saying it is. I know I fucked up and it made things more complicated than they should be but I’m here now and I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to wait for you because I want to prove myself to you. But if all it takes is just people’s words to get in between us then I don’t know if it even matters anymore.”

You recoil at his words, eyes widening when he finally looks down at you. Jungkook doesn’t look angry. He looks tired, and he sounds tired. Your heart hurts because you don’t know how he feels when all this while you were within arms reaches but not quite. You had the reassurance from Jungkook and your friends that he wanted you—but somehow you couldn’t quite believe it. Was it your fault that you felt this way? Why did you feel this way?

“Jungkook …” you reach out to grab his arm, and he doesn’t push you away. But he doesn’t make an effort to hold your hand like he usually would and it made your stomach drop.

“I love you,” he whispers, “I can shout it on rooftops and announce it to the world if that’ll make you believe me. But when will my love be enough?”

“I want you too, Jungkook,” you reply, squeezing his arm tighter.

“Do you?” He sighs, “It’s hard for me too,” he says as his eyes flutter shut, “I can wait. But it hurts. It hurts because if you really wanted me then that’s all that should matter.”

“Wait, Jungkook—” you reach out to him when he pulls away from you and you feel your heart drop when he doesn’t look at you.

Maybe it was an act of desperation, or your mind telling you to not lose a good thing due to your rumination—but you use all the strength you have to tug him back to you because you couldn’t have Jungkook walk away from you. Not now, when your heart tells you to stop being afraid, to stop being stubborn.

“I need—” he begins with a sigh, but your eyebrows are furrowed in determination when you loop your arms around his neck to tug him down to your level.

And you kiss him.

You think it’s the first time that you’ve initiated a kiss, even when the two of you were messing around. It’d always been Jungkook who took the first step, an exception was your last interaction at your apartment. But if you looked harder, even through the hurt, Jungkook reached out first. Granted, it was never in the way that you wanted—but he always took the first leap, for you and the both of you.

When you kiss him, you feel him freeze under your hold, even when you press your lips harder against his. You don’t think about the consequences, you don’t think about your friends who are likely witnessing your first public display of affection with Jungkook, and you definitely don’t think about the way that the rest of his football teammates gawk at the two of you.

It feels scary—but right. And that’s all that should’ve mattered.

When you pull away, you’re breathing heavy, peering your eyes up to Jungkook who’s stunned to silence with a gape in his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

You briefly see from the corner of your eye the way that Yena is squeezing Yoongi’s arm who looks as surprised as the boy in front of you. You even see Namjoon, with a hint of a smile on his face even as he looks away. Your heart clenches in guilt, but you’ve spent far too long hurting yourself and Jungkook.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you into this,” Jungkook whispers, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

“You … you didn’t,” you assure him with a small smile before you nibble on your lips. “You’re right. This—us—it should’ve been enough for me.” You tell him as he observes you with gentle eyes, “And it is. It’s always been but I’ve always been afraid and honestly? I still am. I’m terrified because this is new for me and I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pulling you closer as your arms still rest loosely around his neck, “I’m scared too. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

You turn a pretty shade of red when you duck your head to avoid his fond gaze. He chuckles when you do so, endeared by your embarrassment even if you were the one that reached out first—to proclaim your affection with your kiss.

But some moments don’t last forever, and they’re not meant to. So when a third party interjects and snaps you out of your little bubble with Jungkook, you freeze.

“You sure she isn’t a two-timer, Jeon?” Jeonghan, who you briefly remember seeing at some of the football games, interjects with a raised brow as he leans on the railings of the bleachers.

You still, immediately loosening your grip around Jungkook’s neck and he realises your hesitancy—sees the fear that erupts just when you found the courage to take that first step.

“What?” You whisper.

Jungkook shoots his teammate a blazing glare that you don’t catch because you’re too busy avoiding his gaze, the attention causing the heat to rise on your cheeks and the sweat to accumulate by your hairline and on your body.

“Dude—it’s not worth it,” he snorts, “What next? She sleeps her way through the entire team?”

Your face drops, and Jungkook finally lets go of you. Your eyes widen because you think for a second that he believes his teammate, that Jeonghan has managed to somehow lure his way into the depths of Jungkook’s mind to plant that seed of doubt within his already muddled mind.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jungkook asks with a menacing glare.

You’re frozen, but Namjoon is quickly at your side—concern etched on his face after Yena noticed the tension arising from your corner. Jimin and Taehyung are right behind him, observing the situation as they see Jungkook’s chest heaving when he stares his teammate down.

“I’m just saying,” Jeonghan shrugs, shooting you a knowing glance, “Wasn’t she fucking captain?”

“Jeonghan,” Namjoon intervenes, voice stern.

“What?” He raises his hand in defence, “Weren’t you about to ask her out?”

You hate this. You hate the attention and hate how he speaks about you as if you weren’t standing there—mortified. You especially hate the way that the rest of the team filters where the tension begins to escalate. They’re curious, for sure—at how their captain and their best player is suddenly caught in this dilemma with Jeonghan as the instigator.

“That has nothing to do with you,” Namjoon narrows his eyes at him in response.

Jeonghan snorts, “Um. It kind of does. You bailed on us for her,” Jeonghan states pointedly, “And now she’s locking lips with the golden boy here. She played you, man.”

Before Namjoon can respond, Jungkook takes a threatening step towards Jeonghan as he basically towers over him. Your hair stands on your arms as you can more or less tell where this is going, especially with the way that Jungkook’s fists clench by his sides.

“Jungkook—” you squeak, hands reaching out to rest on his shoulder.

You snap out of it, purely because you know that Jungkook’s pissed. His ears are red and his jaw is clenched, and you don’t want to know what’ll happen if you remained stagnant any longer.

“Stay out of this,” he snaps.

You blink, and even Namjoon looks taken aback. Jimin has concern written all over his features as he steps forward, likely attempting to mitigate the situation.

“Jungkook, don’t be stupid,” Jimin berates.

Jungkook turns around and all you see behind his usual doe-eyed gaze is now a fire that burns and is threatening to blaze anything in its way. And right now, Jungkook’s glaring at Jimin like he’s a rock in his journey.

“You’re going to let him say that shit about her?” Jungkook snaps.

“What’s fighting him going to do?” Jimin exasperates, eyebrows furrowed, “Don’t dig yourself a deeper hole and calm the fuck down. We have a game in two weeks and starting something now won’t do any of us good.” He raises his voice towards the end as he glares at every single person who has so happened to crowd around the lot of you to see what was happening, “Did you not hear what I said? Mind your own fucking business!”

The rest of the team murmurs amongst themselves, not before shooting you a disparaging glance that makes you feel uneasy. You look away because that’s the best you could do, fingers resting limply by your sides while you shift behind Jimin as if he was able to protect you from the wandering stares.

It was your exact fear, and somehow fate seems to hate you with the way your dream-like state with Jungkook is immediately ruined with your fears being proven.

Taehyung and Yena are by your side, looking at you with worry as you avoid their gaze. Your mind is louder, though you catch the lecture that Jungkook’s getting from Jimin for almost fighting Jeonghan. Even if nothing happened—the indents of Jungkook’s fingernails on his palm proves enough of what could happen if it weren’t for Jimin, or Namjoon, intervening.

“God, he’s such a fucking asshole,” Yena grumbles, pulling you to her side as she rubs your shoulder soothingly.

You say nothing, and you briefly see Yoongi walking over; offering you an apologetic glance that you mildly acknowledge.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks softly.

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you look over your shoulders to see Jungkook already staring at you.

“I want to be,” you reply, “But I fucked things up.”

Yena frowns, “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true,” you exasperate, “If I hadn’t led Namjoon on or—if I just didn’t … if I just didn’t feel the way I did for Jungkook then—”

“And then what?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your rambling as you turn around to see him furrowing his brows at you.

“Jungkook—” you reach out to him, again. He only flinches in response.

“If you didn’t feel the way you did for me and then what?” He whispers voice frustrated, “Then you’d get to protect yourself?”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says sternly, eyes warning.

He pays him no mind, however, as you continue to blink up at him.

“That’s not what I meant,” you defend.

“What do you mean, then?” Jungkook snaps, “Because five minutes ago we had this exact same conversation—and then you kissed me—and now it’s like we’re back to square one. So what do you actually mean because I can’t keep trying to come up with my own answers!”

“That’s what I mean, Jungkook!” you frown, gesturing your arms wildly towards the team who’s all grouped together a good distance from where you were, “That. People talking. God, I want you too but I can’t live with the constant hypotheticals of people wondering how the fuck you could ever be with someone that apparently slept with your captain.”

“I don’t care about what people say!” He says vehemently, stepping closer to you.

The rest of your friends observe silently as they all exchange looks, shifting away to give you some privacy. You were so confused, and tired—and you didn’t even care if you were in public anymore and that people could see the argument brewing between you and Jungkook.

“I know you don’t,” you snap, “But not everything is about how you feel, Jungkook. You can live your life because everyone’s going to be pointing figures at me. Not you. It’s because it’s my name that’s being thrown around like I’m some—like I’m some whore who can’t keep her legs closed and—”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Jungkook snarls.

“—it’s what people are saying!” You cry, “Jungkook. Just a month ago you were with Jennie and I was somehow with Namjoon. What … what will people think?”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of?” He laughs dryly.

“What—?”

“You’re afraid because of what other people may think?” He repeats your words back to you, standing closer as you shift back, eyes avoiding his heavy gaze.

“I’m scared of a lot of things, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“I want to be there for you,” he tells you, voice softer than the previous harsh tone he took, “Me risking my position on this team just now? Yeah, that’s what I would do to protect you. I know people will talk and I know it sucks because your name is thrown in the loop—but you have me. You have Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung and Yena. We all would do anything to protect you so why are you still so afraid?”

Jungkook’s beginning to sound more desperate, especially with the way he’s somehow clutching on your elbows as if you’d slip away.

“I”—what were you afraid of? You seemed to have all the answers earlier, and even after Jungkook’s pleas, you find yourself hesitating. The anxiety of people looking at the two of you and wondering how the hell could it work—or whether or not you were set on breaking Jungkook’s heart; and vice versa. You remember the names of people who’s ever questioned your friendship and if there was something more. You remember Sana, harmlessly saying that it seemed impossible for the two of you to be together.

The entire time, fear plagues your mind, and you can’t give Jungkook an answer because it’s more than just people. It was you. It was you being terrified that you weren’t enough and that he’d see how imperfect you were compared to the girl he thinks he loves. You weren’t the smart, independent girl that participated in every club on campus. You were … small. You were fragile and weak, and insecure.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he says defeatedly, resting his forehead on the crown of your head.

Your heart drops.

“Please don’t say that,” you croak.

You feel the lump in your throat grow, and when you look up—you see a pained expression painting Jungkook’s face.

“I don’t want to say that,” he whispers right before he reaches up to clutch your face in his hands, “But I think I need to.”

“You don’t!” You cry, your own arms reaching out to clutch at the collar of the fresh shirt he’s managed to throw on.

“This doesn’t change the fact that I love you,” he reminds you gently.

You hate that you’re crying. The hot, wet tears that flow down your cheeks is a reminder of your vulnerability. Of how much control Jungkook has over your feelings.

“Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me,” you cry.

He smiles, soft and half-hearted as he pulls you into a hug.

“We aren’t together,” he reminds you. Your heart clenches because you could’ve been.

“I …” you want to say that you could be. You want to tell him that you want him. And you do. But your mouth doesn’t move when all you can hear is sobs escaping you.

“Think about it, okay?” He murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face so that you wouldn’t end up crying all over the strands of hair uncomfortably, “If you … if you’re still afraid. That’s okay. We can be friends, and I can pretend like this never happened. I’ll always respect your decision.”

“But …”

He shushes you gently, wiping at your tears.

“I told you. I’ll wait for you—but I can only do that if you want me to,” he says sadly, “I love you. I do. I spent the past seven years of my life loving you, but I need to know if you feel the same.”

“I do!” You immediately respond, eyes wide.

He shakes his head with a small laugh, “You may love me. But love isn’t always enough.”

His words are heartbreaking, and you feel yourself crumble all over again. But your mind isn’t clear and you’re overwhelmed with emotion. Jungkook’s still looking at you gently like he always had. But it seems different.

“Let me take you home first, yeah?” He whispers.

You stop his movements when he reaches out to pick at your belongings as you grab a hold of his hand.

He turns to look at you with a raised brow and you notice how tired and sunken his eyes look. Your heart clenches for the millionth time and you just want to—

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s funny that you’re the one asking that question. When weeks ago it was him in that same position. You realise how vulnerable Jungkook must’ve felt when he posed you with the same question because you feel the exact same. You feel like your heart is on the floor, exposed to everyone as they examine the ins and outs of your feelings.

Jungkook looks at you softly, before pulling you to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

And like always, Jungkook can’t say no to you.

a/n:

hi babes!!!! new chapter is up and oc and jk are :-(

im sorry for the angst!!!!! but things aren't always great between the two 🥺

i hope you enjoyed this chapter even tho yall may be cursing at me rn 🤣 but i do hope that you see oc's internal struggles with accepting everything and pursuing a potential relationship w jk despite her 'obvious' feelings towards him

as always, let me know what you think in my asks!!! love you all - and have a lovely day ahead of you ❤️

#bad boy good thing #bbgt #bts #bts fics #bts series #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook series

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dudeandduchess · 3 years

Text

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 8]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Note: I have nothing against McDonald’s; I love some of their things (Nuggets!!!). It’s just that the contrast between what (Y/n)’s mother had always had, compared to something so normal makes me laugh.

Warnings: Smut, Making Out, Candy Swapping, Semi-Public Sex (Private Beach), Teasing, Champagne Blowjob, Cum Swallowing

||Sugar and Spice Masterlist||

***

It had been a couple of days since the pleasurable incident at the Rengoku clan’s mountain home and, for the life of her, (Y/n) couldn’t get it out of her head. Especially at night, when she begun fantasizing about having Kyōjurō’s hands all over her again, with his chest pressed flush against her back.

She would never admit it, but she was addicted— after only the barest taste of him.

And she would have devised a plan to wring the same pleasure from him again, had he not called her the following morning to say that something had come up in Osaka. That would have been find, if it only took a day to fix it. But, apparently, it was going to take a few days.

(Y/n) had tried not to let her disappointment show in her tone, but Kyōjurō must have picked up on it, since she had gotten the most beautiful bouquet of pink and white hydrangeas— as well as one of Kyōjurō’s button down shirts— a mere hour after they had said goodbye to each other.

The card had even held the sweetest inscription she had ever received, which she quickly used to cover her face— as she raced back up the stairs to get back to the privacy of her room.

At that present moment, with her already done getting herself ready for the day, she took a brief moment for herself and sat down on the edge of her bed; taking the card where she had left it on top of her nightstand, and biting back a smile as she read her fiancé’s writing.

‘You are much like hydrangeas; Beautiful, but selfish with your love. I hope that I can take a piece of your heart while I’m gone, And I hope that someday I’ll have your love, (Y/n).

P.S. I’m giving you my shirt, so that it will keep a little bit of me with you.

Forever Yours, Kyōjurō’

(Y/n) couldn’t help but bite down on her lower lip, if only to bite back the giggle that threatened to spill from her lips. She had been reading the card frequently, yet it still managed to elicit the same reaction from her; as if she were a lovesick teenager.

It was very unbecoming for her; especially over someone whom she was still getting to know.

Kyōjurō was going to become her husband, that was a fact, but there was a tiny voice in her head that always warned her to not get too close. Thankfully, it had been small enough to bury beneath all of her foremost thoughts; yet when she was alone— like at that moment— it gained enough momentum to make itself known.

And the smile on her face, which brightened up her features, turned down into a barely perceptible frown. It was dangerous for her to fall so easily for a man; especially a man that she knew was still keeping his cards close to his chest.

She knew that; after all, she wasn’t that far gone in her blossoming feelings for him.

It would have been so easy to keep herself in check, to guard her heart and keep herself sane… if only he didn’t make her feel like throwing all caution to the wind so she could jump and fall right into his arms.

Just like he had told her that she made him happy, Kyōjurō made her feel the same; along with feeling protected and appreciated.

Before (Y/n) could delve in deeper into her own thoughts however, she quickly shook herself from her reverie and placed the card back down on her nightstand. Then, she got up from her bed and straightened herself out; after all, Rin hadn’t been coming to her room to pester her about attending events in her parents’ stead.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t been tasked to attend any political functions ever since Kyōjurō had warned her mother to lessen her tasks. It gave her enough time to actually relax during her break, and it felt amazing.

She had to remember to give Kyōjurō a kiss once he returned. And if she were to be honest, she would say that she missed him.

“You’re too invested, (Y/n),” The young woman muttered to herself with a playful scoff, before shaking her head and making her way down to the dining room. It was time for breakfast, after all; her most dreaded part of the day, since she had to sit there and take all of her mother’s ill-concealed jabs.

Her tasks may have lessened, but her family life sure hasn’t improved.

With all her apprehension about going to see her mother, (Y/n) even dawdled a little bit during the walk downstairs; purposely taking her time to admire some of the paintings that caught her interest, until she arrived at the doorway she was trying to avoid the most.

And with a deep breath, she stepped through and expected her mother’s mildly displeased expression to greet her. Only, the first face that she saw had her immediately brightening up; especially when those lips that she missed tilted up at the corners to give her a handsome grin.

“Kyōjurō!” (Y/n) breathed out, just as a wide smile colored her expression. And before she could help it, she already found herself practically skipping over to where he now stood— only to freeze when she saw her mother’s narrow-eyed gaze boring right into her.

Immediately, the arms that wanted to wrap themselves around her lover froze at her sides; while Kyōjurō engulfed her in a tight embrace, before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Did you miss me, princess?”

“I… I did.” She admitted, her smile almost faltering once, as she felt her mother’s glare boring right into her back. However, she was shielded by Kyōjurō’s face, so she allowed herself a little bit of rebellion and leaned in to peck his lips— all while her hands lifted themselves up and settled themselves at his sides in a pseudo hug.

As her mother had kept repeating to her while she was growing up: it was unbecoming of someone of her social status to show too much emotion to anyone, as it gave people a leverage over her. And it was obvious that it had stuck to her, since she could only act normally whenever she wasn’t around any people who gave a damn about who she was.

Thankfully, she was shaken from her reverie by Kyōjurō guiding her to sit down on the empty chair next to where he sat. “Go and eat, baby. You need your strength for today.”

Kyōjurō’s words were innocent enough, but they didn’t fail to make goosebumps raise across her skin. They were so laden with hidden meaning, at least in her mind, that she couldn’t shake the warmth that pooled at the pit of her stomach.

With those words hanging in the air, she turned her full attention to the food set out on the table— holding back a surprised expression when she saw that it was laden with carry-out boxes from McDonald’s. A laugh wanted to bubble free from the sight of the lavish table paired off with something so… common, yet (Y/n) could only purse her lips together as she grabbed the laid-out silverware to serve herself a pancake.

Breakfasts used to be such a droll agenda whenever she was at home, but Kyōjurō had managed to spin such a humorous twist on it that made her want to kiss him.

The best part? Rengoku Kyōjurō had practically forced her mother— the wife of the Prime Minister, and the prissiest woman to ever live— to eat an Egg McMuffin.

(Y/n) would never forget the undernoted look of disgust that she kept shooting the blond at her side; the very man whom, she was naught to admit, was starting to become such an essential part of her life.

“How’s your McMuffin… okaa-sama?” Kyōjurō asked quietly, looking so regal even with a paper cup of coffee in his right hand. And (Y/n) could only get swept into him even more, when he turned to her and gave her the most attractive wink; one that had her heart practically skipping in her chest.

***

When (Y/n) had heard that she should keep her strength up for the day, she had expected so much more than just going to the beach— which Kyōjurō’s family apparently bought a few years ago— and being told that her fiancé only wanted to relax.

If she were to be honest, she would say that she expected to get railed so hard on the blanket. After all, it was why she had worn the sundress that she was sure accented all of her curves; one that would entice Kyōjurō into doing just what she wanted him to.

There wasn’t anything wrong with hoping to get fucked by such a sexy man, but it had been a few days, and she was sure that he was trying to put on a show just to tease her. That was the problem: he wasn’t giving in to her.

He merely laid down next to her on their blanket— in all his shirtless glory— while he kept eating that goddamned hard candy that was in the glass bowl next to him. And to make things worse for her, he looked so attractive— especially with his abs out on display, and his sunglasses framing his face so perfectly.

She would have long straddled his hips and slipped his cock inside her, had she been that shameless of a woman.

It wasn’t much of a statement coming from her, based on how they had first met, but it was different because they were out in the open; where anyone could happen by and take pictures of them humping like rabbits on the beach.

That wasn’t a headline that she wanted the entirety of Japan to see, even if she knew that the property was as secluded and secure as it could be.

Still, Kyōjurō was making it so hard to resist him. And he knew just how badly he was affecting her.

“Do you want to eat something, baby? Maybe a drink?” Kyōjurō asked softly, raising his sunglasses to the top of his head while he turned to look at (Y/n)— whom was no longer scrolling through her phone, and was blatantly ogling his body.

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t like that, or if he said that that wasn’t turning him on.

In fact, he had wanted to push her down on the table at her house, had her mother not been there to keep giving him ill-concealed glares. But he had to keep it in his pants, since he wanted to see how she would react with a little bit of pushing from him.

After all, he could make her so needy for him that it would make for the hottest nights of their life; especially if he kept on teasing her bit by bit until their wedding night.

It was too little too late, after he had already had a taste of her tight pussy, but it only made things much more exciting for him. If only he wasn’t constantly close to asking her to fuck him.

“A glass of champagne would be nice…” (Y/n) answered softly, the flush on her face getting more evident in the shade, especially when her eyes flickered up to meet his own. They were so intense with need that Kyōjurō couldn’t help it…

He cupped her face with one hand and pulled her in to his face, as he sat upright to meet her halfway.

The first touch of his lips to hers had his entire body tingling with warmth, as if it was coming alive under her touch. And it was only made better when their slow and tentative kisses slowly escalated to open-mouthed ones; ones that had him feeling himself getting hard.

Especially when she reached down and cupped her hand over his hardening cock.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Kyōjurō’s lips then, as he got it in his mind to push the piece of candy in his mouth into hers.

(Y/n) was clearly surprised at first, tensing up the tiniest bit, before getting swept up in her fiancé’s pace. His tongue kept prodding at hers, trying to pull the candy back into his own mouth, which she complied to.

Gingerly, she allowed him to take the sweet from her mouth, instantly missing its sweetness, before it was gently pushed right back in— so warm and a little minty, with a hint of something that was uniquely Kyōjurō.

Or maybe that was her lust addled mind talking.

However, before things could escalate further, the blond pulled away with a grin— his candy back in his mouth. “I’ll be back with your champagne, princess.”

To say that she was shocked and feeling cross with him was a total understatement. She was feeling so irate that she wanted to get some sort of revenge on him— which had been fueled by her less-than-innocent searches while he was gone.

So, she stewed in her own impatience— even sitting up on her knees— just so she could take him by surprise when he came back.

Thankfully, Kyōjurō didn’t take too long with getting her drink; grinning right at her even if she could see the obvious bulge in his swim trunks. It provided the perfect opportunity for her to get back at him, at least even a little.

And when he got back on their blanket, giving her the glass of champagne before making a move to sit back down, (Y/n) got up on her knees and placed a hand on his right thigh— looking up at him and licking her lips, before sliding that hand up to cup his hard-on once more.

“You look uncomfortable,” The young woman whispered, as she slowly undid the tie to her fiancé’s shorts and gently pushed them down his hips; much like how she pushed her own trepidations aside, and threw all caution to the wind.

She was on private property. And she trusted, deep down, that Kyōjurō would protect her and her reputation if it came down to it.

So, she let go of her inhibitions— especially when she was greeted by her fiancé’s hard cock in front of her face. It was thick, and long, and a little bit curved— which had her pussy getting so wet already.

Remembering how amazing he felt inside her even had her squeezing her thighs together, if only to alleviate the lust that she felt bubbling within her.

Gingerly, she took his cock in her right hand, pumping it slowly, and using her thumb to spread the precum that beaded at his tip. A low groan was her reward for that, which only spurred her on even more— especially when she saw his eyes close in pleasure.

Just the faintest of touches and he was already like that. She couldn’t wait to see what his reaction was going to be when she set her plans into action.

And when she leaned forward to suck on the tip of his cock, she felt confidence flaring up within her when Kyōjurō moaned aloud— with his right hand making its way into her hair.

It was hot, but she was not going to get swept up in his pace again.

So, before he could try to give her a nudge to take more of him in her mouth, (Y/n) pulled the head of his cock out of her mouth and took a big sip from the champagne flute in her left hand. And with that, she set the drink down on the blanket— hoping that it wouldn’t topple over.

She kept the cool and bubbly drink in her mouth— looking up again at Kyōjurō, whom was watching her with such a lust-filled gaze— before taking his cock in her mouth once more.

That time, however, Kyōjurō actually cried out in pleasure; hips bucking involuntarily as he felt the champagne’s bubbles teasing his cock. Partnered with the coolness of the drink, and the warmth of (Y/n)’s mouth, the blond was on his slow descent to thinking that he was going crazy with pleasure.

His head was already spinning from the sensations, and she had barely even taking his cock.

But when she swallowed around his tip, before circling her cool tongue around the crown of his cock, he felt his fingers curling into her hair. Hell, he had barely even managed to look up at the security camera perched on a light pole, as a warning for whoever was watching to turn away at that moment.

Slowly, pleasurably, (Y/n) kept taking more and more of Kyōjurō’s cock in her mouth— until she was all the way down to the hilt, with her nose pressed against his trimmed pubes.

And he thought that it couldn’t get any better than that, until she took the hand that was on his thigh to cup his balls and start fondling them.

His eyes almost rolled back into his head at that moment, as he threw his head back and lost himself to the heady feeling of her sucking him off; trying to bring him to the most intense orgasm that he was ever going to get from a blowjob.

Instead of trying to prolong his pleasure though, Kyōjurō began to gently rock his hips into (Y/n)’s face; breathing heavily and moaning aloud as he felt his orgasm crawling up on him.

“I’m cumming,” The blond whispered breathlessly, close to outright fucking his fiancée’s face, when she pulled his cock out of her mouth— leaving just the tip inside— before jerking her off with one hand.

All while the other one kept fondling his balls.

It was so heady that Kyōjurō could only cry out “Fuck, baby! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” as he spurted thick ropes of cum right on her tongue. She was white hot pleasure personified, and he was sure of it at that very moment.

Maybe he really couldn’t wait until the wedding night to have her again.

Especially when she made a show of popping her cock out of her mouth, and sticking her tongue out to show him his cum— before closing her lips and swallowing his thick seed.

“How did I get so lucky, princess?”

#rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny imagines #rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku x y/n #kyojurou x reader

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bluemusickid · 3 years

Text

Omfg I am at the beach and all I want is for lifeguard!Chris (or any of CE's characters for that matter 😏😉) to rail me😭😭🥺

Warnings: 18+, smut, MAJOR HOE THOTS, minors pls dni

Imagine tho:

You're on the beach, just chilling, watching the handsome lifeguard pace around, keeping watch

There's something about him, and his rugged features, his scruffy beard and shiny hair

Seeing him makes you feel hot and bothered, and not just because of the sun.

You take your sunglasses off to get a better look; his muscles glinting in the sun owing to a sheen of moisture, his chest with a smattering of chest hair (droolll)

You see him checking you out as well, his eyes roaming shamelessly over your body his naturally stoic face erupting into a grin, at what he saw. The smile evaporated as soon as he saw someone needing help, his impossibly long legs taking huge strides to reach and help. He was very much in charge, which only added to his appeal

You decide to change before you leave, having witnessed a gorgeous sunset and an equally gorgeous man, who you would probably never meet again

You were in the changing room, about to shut the door, when a hand stopped you from doing so. Frowning, you opened the door ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever it was

It was him, Mr. Hot-Ass Lifeguard, shirtless and in all his glistening glory. You realise that you've been ogling him for a good minute or two. Clearing your throat, you ask him with mild annoyance what he was doing

Walking you into the room, he backed you up into the wall, his breath fanning your face. "I saw you checking me out." He says

You stare into his gorgeous azure-blue eyes, mentally cursing yourself for being as subtle as a gun. "I..I don't know what you mean." You say haltingly, again cursing yourself for being a terrible liar.

He smirks, then leans in and crashes his lips to yours, his lips surprisingly soft and plump. You are taken aback by his alacrity, but the feel of his lips against yours makes you lose sense of all rational thoughts

His intrepid hand snakes around your waist, while the other runs over your ass, squeezing gently. You moan, pulling him closer, running your hand slightly over his crotch

He breaks apart, breathing wildly. Panting, he pushes down his trunks, quickly pulling down your bikini bottom

"Last chance to say no, sweetheart" he rasps, watching you with hooded eyes. You grasp his cock, pumping it slowly

"I want you." you say, your voice a mere breathy whisper

You fail to register what happens next, as he hauls you up against the wall, his cock positioned at your opening. Wordlessly, you wrap your legs around him, imploring him to move

He pushes inside your wet heat, moaning as he feels your walls engulf him. You gasp, feeling him move slowly inside, his cock snug against you

After he feels you relax, he lets go, setting a punishing pace. The best you can do is hang on to him, as he fucks you thoroughly and relentlessly, his tongue laving voraciously at your pulse point

You have to stop yourself from moaning out loud at the risk of someone hearing; thankfully, the beach is pretty secluded at this time

He sets you down, curling your leg around his hip as he continues thrusting, his fingers circling your clit, making you feel like your insides are on fire

You bite his shoulder, not knowing how to control the sensory overload this man was invoking in you. He reaches behind and unties your top, his fingers rolling your nipple between his fingers

These added sensation set you off, your walls contracting around him as you drop your head on his shoulder, your nails leaving scratches on his gorgeous arms

You come down from your high, his forehead resting against yours as you see him nearing his climax as well

Leaning down, you run your tongue along his beautiful chest, tasting the salty tang of the sea on his skin. It's heady and intoxicating, and you want to commit it to your memory, coz you're sure you're not gonna meet him again.

Circling your tongue around his nipple, you reach down and scissor his cock between your index and middle finger, adding to the sensations

He lets out a garbled moan as he comes, his hot spend coating your walls

You feel his seed leak out as he pulls his trunks up, helping you dress

Before he leaves, he cups your face, looking deep into your eyes

"Meet me at the beach tomorrow, 8 AM sharp. I haven't had my fill of you yet, pretty girl."

I AM NOT OKAY; I NEED BEACH SEX (although I hate the sand)

Tagging my hoes-in-law (this is all from memory, pls tell me if I've forgotten/accidently added anyone): @donutloverxo @gotnofucks @worksby-d @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @chris-butt @starlightcrystalline @tenaciousperfectionunknown @ozarkthedog @imdarkinme

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leiawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Rowaelin Month, Day 11: Surprise kisses

Word count: 1168

Warnings: Just language, I swear. In apology for what I did yesterday...

When she heard the word “homecoming,” Aelin Galathynius pictured the cheesy and definitely unrealistic scenes of Netflix rom-coms. Assemblies where the entire school smiled and cheered as loudly as possible, the football team dominating Friday night’s game, and of course a packed hall of girls in semiformal dresses and guys in tuxes, dancing and shout-singing along to the fast songs and cooing at the handful of picture-perfect couples who took to the floor for the slow dances.

She really should have known better than to expect Hollywood at Orynth High.

Did they have an assembly? Yes, of course. The student body president sported a rather badly painted depiction of their mascot on his chest, and only about half of the students actually visibly gave effort during the cheer. And the ones who did were clearly ogling the cheerleaders. Aelin snickered, remembering her freshman (and only) season in cheer two years ago, when she learned of the simple and very effective single-finger gesture the cheer squad used to tell the pervs where they could shove their ogling.

Was there a football game? Absolutely. Did Orynth win? Yes, to the utter shock of everyone in the stands, they did. Rifthold High got ahead early in the first half, but somehow, Orynth picked up on defense and on actually receiving the ball, scored three times in a row in the second half, and held Rifthold to only one field goal that half to win 36-24.

It was their first win of the season.

And the dance? Well, it certainly wasn’t as “formal” as the movies showed.

Rowan Whitethorn had never had much love for school events, particularly homecoming, but when one was the star senior quarterback, one made sacrifices.

He’d genuinely thought the team was screwed at the end of the first half. The locker room was quiet, all the guys disheartened by the disaster that had been the first thirty minutes. And the Coach Bryaxis walked into the room, threw his clipboard at a locker, and told the team in very few words that if someone didn’t catch a goddamn pass, every single goddamn one of the goddamn pansies on this goddamn team would goddamn well be running stairs until they shat themselves.

A very different team walked onto the field for the second half. And they won. Coach was so happy that he poured the Gatorade cooler over his own head and yelled something unintelligible that probably meant “My team finally fucking redeemed themselves!”

After a game like that, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to skip the dance, even if it meant being subjected to about thirty different freshmen and sophomore chicks in skimpy dresses, stilettos, and cakey makeup flirting with him. If he was lucky, only twenty of them would be teetering on the edge of intoxication. Sure enough, within five minutes of him and the rest of the team walking into the crowded but shockingly well-decorated gym, a girl who couldn’t possibly be old enough to have a driver’s license sauntered over, her boobs practically falling out of her spangled minidress, and in what she must have thought was a flirty voice, asked if Rowan “wanted to show her his moves.”

Before Rowan could open his mouth to redirect her, Lorcan Salvaterre, his wide receiver, stepped forward in all 6′3″ of his glory and said, “Oh yes, I would.” He was halfway into the crush of dancing bodies before the girl could even squeak out that she hadn’t been talking to him.

As the rest of the team dispersed, finding their way onto the dancefloor, Rowan slipped to the edge of the throng, just close enough that he could pretend he was looking for a partner, and eyed the clock. Thirty minutes, then he could go home.

But then someone caught his eye.

Aelin walked into the gym with Lysandra, Elide, and Ansel, and immediately regretted her choice of dress. The emerald-green, sleeveless sheath hugged her upper body and flared slightly into a skirt that ended just above her knees. It had clear elastic straps to keep the top from falling off, which for her was a requirement. She couldn’t accidentally flash the entire student body of Orynth High at a dance; their Instagram stories would never let her forget it. The moment she and her friends entered the building, Aelin could feel the floor vibrating beneath her three-inch heels. The budget strobes the committee had managed to find in some attic somewhere flashed in a predictably boring rotation of green, blue, violet, pink, yellow, and white.

“El! Some chick’s dancing with your man!” Lysandra yelled over the music.

Elide looked over at the floor, where Lorcan was indeed dancing with someone, his face predictably emotionless. She snorted.

“It’s his gentleman act again; he’s probably saving Rowan’s ass from the little sluts who think they can catch the attention of the big hunky QB. Give me about twenty seconds and you’ll see chica over there running for the hills.”

“Or just the baseball team,” smirked Aelin. Elide winked saucily at her and headed in Lorcan’s direction.

Making her way partially into the horde of dancing students, Aelin smothered a grimace. She’d forgotten just how much she hated these things. Everywhere she looked, there was grinding, groping, body odor, half-shirtless guys who thought unbuttoning the top buttons of their dress shirt made them look hot, and an abundance of awkward dance moves that vaguely resembled, as Ansel so elegantly put it, “Dance Moms on lots and lots of crack.”

In short, a typical Orynth High dance.

She glanced at her phone. Thank God. Thirty more minutes and she could get the hell out. As she danced her way through the edge of the crowd, she ran smack into a solid chest.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn--”

“Aelin?”

“Rowan?”

For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, each disbelieving that the other was actually present at the dance. Rowan ran a hand through his hair. “God, this is awkward. Dance?”

Aelin chuckled. “Sure, but please, for the love of God, over by the doors. I need some real air.”

“Agreed. And an easy getaway.”

So they danced back through the crowd, finally ending up over by the exit doors. When the song changed, Rowan grabbed Aelin’s hand and pulled her outside. She looked up at him, brows raised.

“Done already? Hmm, I thought you had more stamina than that.” There was no mistaking the innuendo in her voice.

Rowan’s voice dropped about two octaves. “Comment on my stamina again, I dare you.”

Before Aelin could make a snarky retort, Rowan’s lips met hers. She sighed into his kiss, twining her arms around his neck. When he pulled back some time later, his eyes were bright.

“Hi.”

Standing outside their high school gym, totally ignorant of the cool night breeze, Aelin kissed her boyfriend again, reveling in his presence.

“You came to the dance for me, didn’t you.”

He smirked. “I’ll never admit it, Fireheart. But yes.”

#my writing #rowaelin month #high school au

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Note

Finally got around to continue on with our universe. Forgive me for my procrastination 😏.

- Rex has this cute, boyish crush on Ms.Tano awww,

- Cody might once or twice call out Mr.Kenobi on his bullshit essay assignment lol (he still thinks it's his fav teacher tho),

- Yoda as a principal omg yes?!,

- like most of the time students and teachers don't know what he is talking about during school assemblies, is he being too philosophical or is Mr.Yoda just straight up high 😂,

- Din becoming a new superintendent of the school district? Honey, that's an amazing idea, duh,

- Now he dresses up to work in this nice, sleek suits, (probably provided by Boba),

- You enjoy this look on him,

- He'd still pull up to his office in this besr up truck of his tho,

- Now you and Din work even closer, given your position in social work,

- So... Office sex? 🥵,

- Din sometimes taking Grogu to his office, letting him wreck havoc while in there , renaming the files on his computer to gibberish and doodling little froggies on his documents,

- You are basically Din's assistant at this point, because he doesn't know how to be organized 😂,

- He'd still visit his old class because he misses his precious kiddos,

- omg Grogu carrying his Mr.Froggers in this cute little, clear backpack, hell yes,

- Din won't abuse his newly given authority, always staying humble and still carrying about children's education and well-being (this is peek bde right there, C'mon, let him finally bring Mandalore to its former glory),

- Rex asking Ms.Tano if she could join them for the library story time,

- Din the tiddiy man to the rescue!

- You won't ever be able to complain about pain in sensitivite breasts during your periods or pregnancy, because his big, warm hands all always ready to take gentle care of the tiddies,

- Omg, Din losing his composure because of your milk factory, he'd love to keep you pregnant for the rest of your lives lol,

- Paz work out routine always ending up in some kind of wrestling with you,

- He'd walk shirtless around the house, flexing his ripped muscles, because he loves how it makes you flustered, cheeky bastard,

- and of course his gray sweats™ deliciously hugging his thighs and other curves 🥵,

- he'd try to teach you some type of arm to arm combat for the self defense purposes,

- but your lessons don't last long,

- his size!kink going berserk when your delicate hands try to overpower him,

- he'd just simply manhandle you onto the floor lol,

- Boba won't admit that out loud, but he loved when you once put your hand around his throat while you were riding on his dick,

- He's dom through and through, obviously,

- But letting his princess take a lead?,

- he'd try to put your hands around his throat from time to time, until you catch on that,

- but don't get too carried away,

- once you slapped his ass,

- let's say he wasn't amused at all,

- ''Princess having grabby hands? Let me show you how it is done'',

- you weren't able to sit straight for the next few days

Sorry, again I went all over the place with those but I hope everyone will enjoy them anyways - 🐣

Its fine darling, I took a break from asks yesterday anyway! 💕

Office sex with Din you say?

Imagine walking into his office in a pencil skirt, and you are talking business but Din is just staring at how fucking perfect your thighs look in that skirt

And how your tits pull at your button down shirt

The next thing you know he's kissing you and locking the door, before wrestling you on his very cluttered and unorganized desk

If everybody didn't hear you, they definitely heard Din and incessant praising of your outfit and body

Now, Din doesn't even know how to understand principal Yoda most of the time, and the dude was there when HE was in school

All the kids have bets going on how old Yoda truly is, but he won't tell anyone

Rex having a crush on his favorite teacher? 1200/10 great idea

Rex totally got ecstatic when she showed up to library story time, and he pulled her down to sit with him

Cody totally teases him for it, but Rex shoots back about Mr. Kenobi and Cody just turns red and walks away

Imagine spending a whole weekend help Din organize his office, only to walk in on like a Thursday afternoon and find Grogu sitting at the desk doodling on papers and a bunch of files scattered on the ground while Din sits on his couch that he has and is reading over things

You'd be so mad and yell at both of them

Grogu's frog is now Mr. Froggers, thats its name

Now we talked about Din and your tiddies, but what about you and Paz's tiddies?

Paz just going about his workout routine shirtless, and the whole time he just knows that you are ogling his chest and arms, flushed and ready to pounce on him

Paz lifting weights? You're watching his thighs flex the entire time his doing squats

And when he's bench pressing, if your not watching hits arms you're staring at the delicious outline in those grey sweats that you can't decide if you love or hate

Joining Paz for his after workout shower, only for him to add to the work out by slamming you into the wall and doing some hip thrusts 😉😉

And Paz trying to teach you some self defense? Man gets so turned on, especially when you land a good punch on him (he loves a good strong and confident partner)

The first time you actually pin him down, he has you flipped and is wrestling you hard from behind as a reward for doing so good, and because you had made him achingly hard

Boba with a choking kink you say?

The first time you did it, it was on accident as you were cumming and you just needed to grab something, you were aiming for his shoulder but in your bliss you missed

When you squeezed slightly Boba was shocked at how much he actually enjoyed it

After that he'd start grabbing your wrist and putting your hand on his throat, but if you squeezed to hard or tried to take control he would grip your wrist roughly as a warning

The one time you smacked is ass, he just growled at you flipping you over whispering what you said in your ear, before wrestling with you the roughest that he ever has

Oh but imagine, sitting on Boba's lap at a club, he's talking business and you're tipsy and horny as all fuck so you move and straddle his leg and start rubbing yourself against him slowly trying to get his attention

Boba just acts like this is normal, placing one hand on your waist, while it was very obvious that the person he was talking to got thrown off guard

That night when you finally get home, Boba wrestles you into bed telling you that you are such a needy little one

Anyway, I got carried away here, woops 🤷‍♀️

(SEND ME THOTS!!!)

#🐣 anon #modern au #din djarin x reader #din x reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader

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cesabutterflywrites · 3 years

Text

Will Bring You to Your Knees

Part [3] in An Angel’s Smile Series

“In his naked glory, the mortals wept at the witness of true divinity-and confessed to their many sins”

Summary: Janus Ethan Dannecker starts college with only a box, backpack, $300, and a ton of emotional baggage that is overwhelming. The broken home he came from cast a shadow on him that he refused to let anyone see. The scars on his body were no match for the scars on his soul. He made it his mission to never let anyone see where he came from. See what he was really made of. See how messed up he would always be.

That is, until Patton Mavers smiled at him. Ao3 [First Part] [Previous Part] [Next Part Coming Soon] [Spotify Playlist]

Word Count: 1761

Story Warnings: past abusive childhood, angst, untreated/undiagnosed mental illness symptoms, detailed descriptions of abuse, cursing, implied/referenced substance abuse. Rated M for Mature audiences. Let me know if I need to add more, and read with caution!

Will Bring You to Your Knees

Janus woke up to the sound of Green Day’s ‘Holiday’. Well, more like he startled so hard he fell off of his bed and hit his head on the desk next to him. The sound of Virgil’s alarm blared in the small room obnoxiously. It was too early for that garage music, in his opinion. The assault on his ears seemed to have no effect on Virgil, who was the one who set the alarm in the first place.

Janus hissed in pain, rubbing the spot and watching his roommate shuffle in his bed to turn off the alarm. Virgil didn't even get up, he just rolled over in his bed and immediately started snoring. Janus took a moment to stare incredulously. Who set an alarm so loud and startling only to just fall back asleep after turning it off?

He cursed himself immediately. He had no right to judge how Virgil conducted his mornings. He was rude for even thinking about it. It was one more thing to hate about himself-the silent snap judgements about something that wasn’t that big of a deal.

He closed his eyes. He was so weary from his fitful sleep. He had once again been dreaming about his true self. The self he hid at all costs- the one who was evil. The version of him who was always screaming in his mind. He had dreamed of what his true self would say to Patton. He would break down. Scream in his face about how he would never be fine.

He sat there, leaning against the desk while he ran his hand through his greasy hair. He hadn’t been able to clean himself for a while before he arrived. He knew that the dorm had community showers, similar to what locker rooms were like. He had read about it in his brochure, and had dreaded the day he’d have to navigate the challenges it would pose.

Janus sighed after he pulled himself up. He had his first class in two and a half hours, he noted after glancing at the clock by his bed. He took out his phone-an old model on its last legs, which would need replacing soon-and gazed at it intensely, as if begging the device to magically tell him whether or not he had time for a shower and crisis before getting to class.

Realizing time was slipping away, he decided to go for it. He’d be in a dorm for a year, at least, and he needed to get over the fear of community showers at some point. It was ridiculous to be so embarrassed. He could probably easily avoid having people see the scars all over his body...he hoped.

Part of him thought it was too early in the morning to be paranoid. The other part laughed, because it wasn’t like Janus could ever settle down enough to let go of his insecurities. It was useless to even think he’d be done with his fear of the world. As long as his skin was marked, he would never be convinced of his freedom.

As he gathered his things, he started thinking of lies he could tell if anyone saw the marks covering his shoulders, back, and abdomen. He could say gruesome animal attack, but quickly discarded that. Too many follow up questions. Maybe a bully at school? No, too much sympathy. He grew frustrated at the lack of preparation for the inevitable question.

There was always the option of...not answering. Of saying it was private. There was the option for answering with that. Perhaps his father had been right after all.

It was better for him to be silent.

Especially his...if the angel were to ever see him bare chested. Those wonderful green eyes losing their light to the horrible sight. Janus conjured the image of Patton’s carefree face curled with disgust at the sight of him. He didn’t think of what he’d do in that scenario, and he wasn’t going to entertain that line of thinking further.

He grabbed his bag and towel. His heart was pounding as the worried thoughts fluttered through his mind like eagles diving towards their prey. He felt his heartbeat in his ears. The halls seemed to grow never ending as he made his way through the groups of students also just waking up. He felt like everyone was already staring at him. Gazes of disgust were surely being thrown against his back as he walked past. If it weren’t for the tags scratching his neck, he’d think he was already naked.

Finally, as if the walk was five years instead of ten minutes, he made it outside the doors to the showers. He steeled himself, put on his brave mask, and walked in.

He nearly ran into a shirtless Roman.

“Woah, hey there Janus!” Roman greeted enthusiastically. His strawberry blond hair was dripping wet, which was a compliment to his wide grin. He seemed a little too chipper for that early in the morning. How was this man with someone like Virgil?

“Hi,” Janus replied lamely. “Um…”

Roman was smarter than he looked, it seemed to Janus, because his face morphed into one of sympathy. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked down at Janus. It was...unnerving.

The pair scooted out of the way as another person came in.

“You’ve never used one of these before, huh?” Roman’s voice was quiet, and he held that damn oversweet sympathy in his eyes. What had Patton said to him?

Janus just shook his head. He felt sick with himself, being so obviously out of his element, and the fact that Roman was being so kind about it made it even more of a slap to the face. Still, he stuck with the shy approach because defensiveness would not be helpful to him. Roman was probably trying to be kind.

“Well, it’s not as scary as it seems. You hang your towel and bag on the hook right next to the door inside your stall, do your thing, and get out to change your clothes in the changing stalls if you don’t want to do it on the shower bench.” Roman winked at Janus, “Unless you forget your shirt like I did.”

“It looks like they’re all in use…” Janus commented, feeling very aware of the time ticking by. What if he was late to his first class? What if he couldn’t do this after all? How much time had passed?

“Patton’s almost done I think, you can use that one after he’s done I’m sure.” Roman eyed Janus, his ocean blue eyes must have noticed more than Janus was choosing to show, because he offered to stay until a stall became available.

It was infuriating, on some level, to have people suddenly care about him. It was a blatant reminder that he was a fake. He wasn’t worth the attention. The only reason he was being treated nicely was because he had fooled Roman and the others that he was a likable person.

Then he had been rude to Patton. The angel with the loveable smile. His easy acceptance of Janus had been a shock, and he was met with dishonesty. Necessary little lies that Janus lived by. It was enough to affirm the belief that he wasn’t worth it. It was enough to make him want to confess it all to Patton-to keep him and the others away.

Janus denied the offer, but Roman stayed anyway. It was two minutes when the angel, that beautiful angel, walked out with a baby blue towel wrapped around his hips. His curly hair was a darker color from the wet, and barely touching his shoulders. The blue streak in his bangs was leaking some of it’s dye-Janus wondered if it would stain Patton’s skin.

He was holding a black net bag that held his things. His arms were thicker than Janus had realized, and it was obvious that Patton did some form of working out. He didn’t have a six pack, but his chest and abdomen were defined-with hints of softness where his hips and waist were. Janus refused to glance further, choosing to look back at the angel’s face again.

Heat of attraction that he never felt before was at the edge of his consciousness. Blood made of desire made its way to his cheeks. He was sure that his heart had quickened its pace. The beauty, the magnificence, the light of this beautiful man’s aura caused Janus to feel grounded where he stood.

Janus’s mask crumbled. He knew he was ogling, but it was as if there was a halo of light in the mist around Patton as he made his way with his clothing bag to one of the changing stalls. The spell broke, and he was grateful Patton hadn’t noticed him. He let out a breath, and looked to see Roman grinning at him cheekily.

“Did you like the view?” Roman teased. He wasn’t being mean, of course. Roman didn’t seem the type to be malicious.

Janus’ annoyance with Roman slipped through as he rolled his eyes. He refused to acknowledge that he was still blushing. “Thank you for your help Roman. Have a good day.”

Janus passed as Patton walked out of the stall dressed in a blue polo shirt with khaki pants. His face was clear of the leaked dye, miraculously. His hair was starting to curl again. He was wearing his glasses, framing his face perfectly. He looked like a baseball dad more than a college student. His hair was still wet, but shaggier from the towel. His face brightened when he caught Janus’ arm.

“Hi Janus,” he smiled, “Hope you have a good day. Good luck!”

Janus held onto that phrase. His arm was caught in tingles from the brief gesture of affection. He hadn’t even flinched! Even after he had acted rude the other night, Patton was still nice to him. Maybe the care the angel had for the stranger was real after all. Or maybe he was just nice to everyone. Either way, Janus felt a spark of what could be considered genuine joy.

“Darn it Roman, where is your shirt?” he heard Patton chastise his roommate. Roman naturally laughed off the question

Janus giggled to himself, and braved his first shower with ease. As he made his way to class after, all he could think about was Patton telling him to have a good day. He hadn’t even had time to worry about how he looked in front of the angel.

TAGLIST: @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth , @deceits-left-glove , @louistownsmyass

Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for this story or any of my other ships!

[Masterpost of all my writings]

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Last Straw (3/12)

Newly married to your high school sweetheart Kylo Ren, the two of you move into Skywalker Ranch, a farm recently passed down after the death of Kylo’s grandfather. The place is charming, and the people seem friendly…but are they?

Content Warnings: NSFW content (shower sex)

----------------

After a few seconds thought, you decide no, you want to help him. Between the two of you, you could splurge on some really expensive parts since you wouldn’t have to worry about paying anyone for labor. And the way Kylo is looking at you, standing there shirtless and sun-kissed, well, you think if anyone was going to be around your man ogling him, it better be his newly wedded wife.

“I was thinking it might be nice if we worked on the house together.” You decide, making him absolutely light up. You take a big swig of your coffee and give him a playful wink as the birds chirp just outside the broken windows, “You know how I’ve been watching all those shows on HGTV? All the renovation ones?”

“Okay but you’re not actually an electrician or a plumber or anything honey.” Kylo snorts into his own mug, and you bite your lip in a chastised grin, reach out your foot and nudge him gently.

“Maybe not, but I can use power tools and I know how to follow instructions like nobody’s business.” You point out, and he does raise his mug in acknowledgment to that with a chuckle.

“Touché.” He says, and you just love him so much, you put the mug down and get up from the small rickety table to get all in his business, press yourself clad in only your robe, up against him.

“I figured you could direct me, Mr. Handyman, and whatever I can’t figure out myself, well, we always have YouTube.” You say, an attempt at being seductive, your lids lowered, and your mouth pouted.

It works, and he sets his mug down on the table hard, wraps his arms around you. His skin is warmed and already a little sweaty from the work he was doing in the kitchen, just some simple tidying up with the broom and a duster. He kisses you, licks into your mouth nice and slow, wet, hungry. He tastes like the roasted coffee beans he always buys, some locally grown brand from the big city that he’s now going to have to give up, living all the way out here in the farmlands.

But he doesn’t care, not if the way he’s holding onto you is any indication, doesn’t care about the coffee, only being here with you.

“You really want to work on the house with me?” He asks, eyes dark and brimming with nervous thoughts.

You know what he’s asking, what he really means.

You really want to live here with me?

He doesn’t need to say it, but he doesn’t need to. You’ve been through enough together, enough shared trauma that you can read him all too well, the best out of anyone. And the unasked question in his smoldering eyes breaks your heart, because how could you not? With all he’s done for you – all you’ve done for one another. How much you love one another.

“Of course I do.” You reply, answering both the spoken and unspoken, answering every doubt he could have had. “This house means the world to you, I know that. If I can do my part to restore it to its former glory, then I will.” You mean it, mean every word, always.

He nods, gives your hand a tight squeeze, kisses you. You kiss him back, right on the edge where the scar on his face is gnarled and brutal, feather light kisses letting him know everything is alright.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky, just, considering everything.” He says, and you sigh.

“Ky, there isn’t anyone I’d rather be with. I know it’s hard, I know it is. But we’re going to get through it together.” You reassure him, “And when it’s all said and done, and the house is put back together, we’re going to go out and get some cattle, maybe some sheep, and I’m going to make us homemade cheese just like Padme used to.” You grin.

He smiles at that, at the memory of the gentle baa-ing of Padme’s flock, the memory of frozen sheep’s milk accompanied by fresh strawberries. You raise your eyebrows in a comforting manner, as if to ask if that’s alright, if he’s alright. He’s not, but he’s trying, you know by the way he nods, and the attempt is worth more than you can say.

“I think our first trip should be to go into town and get stuff to fix the shower.” Kylo says eventually, breaking the heavy seriousness of the moment by catching a whiff of his underarms and making a face, scrunching up his nose. “The water’s been turned back on and the electric works, but that shower…”

“Alright alright, good thing we have deodorant.” You laugh, playfully swatting at his chest as you wrangle yourself out of his grasp.

It takes almost forty-minutes to get all the way into town, into town properly anyway. About half an hour into the drive there are houses that spring up, scattered about. Nothing that could really be called a suburb, not the way you think of it anyway. But ten minutes more and suddenly you’re driving down Main Street, a bustling road filled with people walking, biking, driving.

It’s just the one road, but it’s got all the sorts of stores you might want, anything you might need. There’s a grocery, a pharmacy, the library. A couple store-fronts selling clothes, home goods. There are restaurants, bars, but none of them, nothing on the street is a chain. Everything is mom-and-pop, established signs and plaques boasting over one hundred years of operation.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this? It was always my dream, getting out of the city, out into nature. I love how wide open everything is.” You say, the sun-bleached pavement smooth under the tires of the truck.

“Good, because we’ve got just about nothing but nature.” Kylo replies, as he parks the car in front of the home supply store.

It’s surprisingly modern inside, with all the latest gadgets that one might need when doing any sort of renovations. There are aisles and aisles of all sorts of things, plumping, wood paneling, bolts and nuts and screws, and all the power cordless tools to go along with them. An old woman turns to greet you both when the ding of the doorbell sounds, and she nearly drops her armful of foam insulation tube at the sight of Kylo.

“Bless my soul if it isn’t Benjamin! Benny boy how are ya?” She hurriedly puts everything down, rushes over and scoops Kylo’s six-foot-three frame into her arms, giving him a tight squeeze while his face goes beet red.

“Mrs. Carlton I go by Kylo now, and this is my wife, (Y/N).” He explains, and she nods in understanding, gives a cheeky wink.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You say, holding your hand out for a shake, but she just leans in for a big embrace as well.

You of course oblige, and are surprised to see that while she may look frail, she’s got something of a good grip when she hugs you tight.

“Oh ain’t she a beaut! You got yourself mighty lucky with this one Benny – now don’t tell me, you’re here on account of the ol’ farmhouse needing repairs, ain’t that right?” Mrs. Carlton asks, a wistful look in her eye.

“How’d you know that?” Kylo asks in return, and the woman just tsks out a laugh.

“Oh folks talk, believe me. When I heard that state agents were snoopin’ around your granddaddy’s farm you can believe me and the guys went out to tell ‘em what for. We thought they were trespassing, but then they told us about ol’ Anakin.” She says, her voice going soft towards the end.

You look at Kylo, and Kylo looks at his feet, trying not to get worked up or emotional out in public. Being home in your arms was one thing, being in the middle of the doorknob aisle was another.

“Yeah.” Is all he says, voice thick.

Mrs. Carlton releases you from her hug, and you move over to Kylo’s side, wrapping your arm around his, comforting him.

“I’m real sorry to hear that sonny, real sorry. He loved you very much; you ought to know, any time you’d come over for the summers it’d be all he could talk about.” Mrs. Carlton says gently, and that make’s Kylo’s head snap up, eyes wide.

“Really?” He asks, and your heart breaks all over. All over again, for the way he looks so young, the way he looks like he did back before…well…everything.

“Really.” She nods, and for a moment you think she might cry too, but then she’s walking away, towards the register, the insulation tubing all but forgotten. “Now listen, I know that house has seen better days, so let me tell you what. Anything you need, you ain’t paying full price for it. I’d offer a hand myself to help but I’m afraid the last time I climbed up a ladder was the last time I climbed up anything.” She chuckles on her way across the store, making you frown.

“No, Mrs. Carlton please we are more than able to pay for everything, really.” You insist, not wanting to take any advantage, least of all of an old lady.

“Sweetheart I’m sure you can, but I won’t accept it. Angel!” Mrs. Carlton calls, calls again until a younger woman, probably around your age if a little younger, comes out from the back where she was no doubt on break, “Angel honey, could you please help Kylo and (Y/N) find everything they’re lookin’ for? She’ll take real good care of you.” Mrs. Carlton winks at Kylo, who only blushes all over again.

Angel leads Kylo down an aisle after taking a look at the list he had written up before leaving for town. You’re about to follow them, when you stop and take one more look at the kind old woman who was now busying herself behind the counter.

“Thank you, Mrs. Carlton.” You say sincerely, for the warm welcome, for the kind words, and for the understanding.

She only waves it off, but her eyes are wet when she regards you.

“You both are so young.” She says, and you nod, “Too young to be dealin’ with such heartache. But heartache hits us all, it doesn’t care how old we are, how prepared we are. Love is blind, but death is deaf.” She sighs, and you hum, mull that over.

You begin to walk away, when suddenly she asks with great urgency,

“Can I ask a favor?”

You stop in your tracks and rush back to the counter, eager to help her with anything. She takes your hand in between her own, spotted and wrinkled but soft nonetheless.

“Of course!” You say, because of course.

“If you happen to come across Padme’s old recipe book in that there kitchen, would you make me a sour cherry pie?” She asks, and you break out into a big smile, nod happily.

“Mrs. Carlton I’ll make you a pie every Sunday, if you’d like.” You tell her and she lets you go with a big laugh so that you can join your husband on his quest for two inch pipe.

You both get to work right away, when you’re back home. You smile at that, at the thought of how easy it was to call this place home. You’d not even been there a week, and yet you’re already thinking of how the dishes could go here, the dvd collection could go there. You’re envisioning where to put the vases on which tables in which rooms, where to hang the artwork and the family photos.

You don’t get very far, not the first day. Only the bathroom and the kitchen are dealt with, getting the plumbing cleaned and clear for the toilet and the shower, getting the sinks hooked up, the floors mopped and swept, counters dusted and polished. The fridge in the kitchen works, and you spend an entire hour cleaning it out, wiping it down, making it fit to put the drinks and snacks you’ve stashed in your cooler in the bed of the truck.

It’s dark by the time it’s all finished, the sun having gone down long ago. If you had to guess, it was probably ten o’clock at night. But the electricity worked, so you flipped the light switches on, illuminated the space with the soft golden glow of old bulbs that would absolutely need replacing, lest they burst from years of disuse.

“Shower with me.” Kylo says when you meet him at the top of the stairs, careful to avoid the ones that creak and groan. That’d be a project for another day, you think, replacing the wood there.

But for now, you’re more than eager to shower off the muck and grime and sweat of the day.

Kylo had done a damn good job on the bathroom, the tile all scrubbed and bleached, new shower-head and curtains, even picked up a soft bath-mat to catch the water when you stepped out after you were both clean.

You admire the job he did, but also him, his body, the wat the water runs in rivulets down his sculpted chest and arms, his broad back, those thick thighs.

“Careful sweetheart,” He says, voice low, “You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to have to fuck you.” He says it like that’d be a punishment, like it’d be a bad thing, like you’re not eager, desperate for it.

In response you tug him forward to meet his lips in a searing kiss, opened mouth and hot, hotter than the water which steams up the mirror just outside the shower. It takes so little to get him groaning into your mouth for you, takes so little to get him to pant and his hands to twitch as they reach for you – but they’re reaching for you now, and you let him grope and grab and bruise you under the hot spray, as soapy foam slides down your skin, washing away the stress of the day.

He’s hard for you, turns you around and presses your chest to the cold tile where the water doesn’t hit, as he settles behind you. You brace yourself against the wall to get some purchase, some leverage, as you press your hips back, encouraging him as he slides the head of his cock through your folds.

“Oh,” You sigh happily, suck in a sharp breath when he nudges it further and further into you, hips moving moving moving back and forth to rock all the way into you.

He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, laves his tongue over your pulse as he fucks you steadily, building up momentum and speed. You have to be careful, in the shower, the two of you have absolutely slipped before, and it would be bad luck to get hurt now, on the first fuck in the new house. New home.

He grunts in your ear as he moves faster, really begins to find a good rhythm that has his flesh smacking against yours, has you moaning loud, echoing, bouncing off the walls of the bathroom, fighting the rush of the shower spray.

His cock feels so good inside you, and his hand slips around your throat to squeeze tightly there, to cut off your air flow just enough to make you deliciously dizzy.

Between your panting and his groaning, you almost miss it – the noise.

But there it is again, something foreign, not from your bodies, not from the bathroom. Your eyes fly open and you tense up immediately.

“What was that?” You ask, voice a whisper, and Kylo stops as soon as he notices you’re no longer in the throes of passion.

“What was what?” Kylo asks, immediately shutting off the water, ears trained, trying to listen.

The sound happens again, and you both look at one another, both naked and vulnerable.

“That!” You hiss, scrabbling for a towel, “There’s someone at the door.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Kylo groans, scrubs a hand over his face and gets out of the shower, quickly grabs a towel for himself and wipes down, throwing on his robe that he had pulled out from the suitcase. “Baby stay here, I’m going to see what’s going on.”

“Don’t!” You squeak, towel wrapped around your body, hugging it close, eyes wide. Your heart is racing, and you can’t explain it, can’t explain the sudden anxiety you feel.

“Why not?” Kylo asks, already sticking his big feet into slippers, already combing his fingers through his sopping wet hair.

“I don’t like it, it’s the dead of night what if – ” You start to worry, chew your lip.

Kylo put his hands on your arms to calm and comfort you.

“If it’s the dead of night and they’re knocking politely on our door, they must be in trouble. Folks around here help one another, this isn’t the city where everyone’s out to get you.” He says with a bit of a chuckle.

“Please?” You ask anyway, hoping that maybe if you just ignore them, they’ll leave.

“I’m just going to see if everything is okay, I won’t let them in, I promise.” Kylo shakes his head, those good boy instincts coming through too strong.

“I’m coming with you.” You decide, pulling on your robe too.

Standing on the porch in nothing but the light of the moon are three men; one much older, and two younger ones who look to be identical twins. The twins are boys really, just barely getting through puberty from the looks of it. They’re clearly family, sharing the same crop of red hair and sprinkling of freckles, and when Kylo opens the door they all give you the same smile.

It’s a slightly disconcerting smile, particularly on one of the twins, who looks like he isn’t used to the gesture, like it hurts his face almost.

“Good evening sir, ma’am, we’re so sorry to bother you at this time of night.” The eldest, maybe their father, says. “My name is Brendol Hux, and these are my sons, Armitage and William.” The man, Brendol, has an accent, something thick and heavy but not one you can really place.

“How can we help you?” Kylo asks, shaking the man’s hand, shaking it still even when he won’t let go. When it’s awkward. When the shake has gone on for too long.

“Our car broke down about a mile up the road.” Brendol says, still shaking Kylo’s hand, nails starting to dig in too tight.

Kylo rips his hand out of the man’s grip, and you try your best, your very best not to notice, not to scream.

“Shit, I’m sorry, engine trouble?” Kylo wonders, but the younger looking boy, the one with the long red hair, William, shakes his head.

“No we think we, we think we accidentally hit some nails, our tires busted.” The boy stammers, eyes big and blue and watery. They’re so light that they’re almost see-through. They look sad, you think.

“I’m afraid we can’t help you, we don’t have any spare tires.” You say, already ready to close the door on them, when Brendol laughs.

“Oh no! No that’s not why we’re here,” He says, making you and Kylo both frown, “We were hoping you might let us spend the evening in your barn, just until sunrise when we can flag down a tow-truck or someone who might have a spare.”

“I can call a tow-truck for you.” You announced happily, glad to be able to help and get them off of your property. You had already connected the phone lines that afternoon, so it wouldn’t be any issue, not for local numbers anyway.

“No!” William says far too loudly, too panicked, and Kylo frowns.

“No?” He asks, voice deep, shoulders square.

Armitage and Brendol both shoot William a look, one that makes you wonder if maybe you should call Child Protective Services instead.

“What my son means, is that there’s no one awake right now, no one would answer.” Brendol says easily, smiling politely, smiling in that way that makes you break out into goosebumps, because you feel like you’ve seen that face before, but you can’t place where, or why.

You and Kylo look at one another, and you silently debate what to do.

They looked to be genuinely in distress, and Kylo was right, people helped one another around here. You felt awful about the thought of leaving them to fuck off into the night. They had clearly come to you for help, must have seen the lights on and thought this was their only option, or else they wouldn’t have shown up. If you agree to let them stay, it wouldn’t even be inside the house. They asked to sleep in the barn, which is a good many yards away. It’s not like anyone else was sleeping in there, you reasoned.

On the other hand, you didn’t like the idea of strangers on your property. The phone lines worked, and maybe you could call the police or something too while you were at it. You don’t like the way poor William cowers in fear of his brother, his father. You want to hug him close, but at the same time you want them all to go very very far away.

What will you do?

(If you agree to let them stay, click here) (If you decide to call the tow-truck anyway, click here)

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo x reader #kylo/reader #my writing #dead dove do not eat #last straw

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waitingforatruemirror · 4 years

Text

shirtless in a minute

Aww, can he get any cuter?! Here you go my followers, feast your eyes with this cutie patoot.

“okay, share...”

*whoosh sound on FB*

This is how your girl spends her leisure hours, waiting hours, most of her hours. Today she’s seated on one of Jen’s fake vintage bar stools in her huge kitchen island, in her even huge-r apartment. Jen, bless her heart, went out to get some food. She promised to be back within half an hour. It’s been fifteen minutes of sharing GIFs of Thor in all his glory.

The next minute is very important, two things happen. She hears the bedroom door open, and freaks out. For about a second.

Ah Fuc-!!

“Holyshitjesus-“

He looks up as he hears the sharp intake of a breath and the cussing that follows.

“Hey, sorry! Did I scare you? Sorry!” A very shirtless, and an extremely good looking guy says as he walks towards the kitchen. Fresh out of the shower by the looks of it. If that sheen of water playing with the light is anything to go by.

He’s Scottish. He has a Scottish accent. HE HAS A SCOTTISH ACCENT AND HE’S SHIRTLESS?! WHAT IS HAPPENING? AM I DROOLING? Please tell me I’m not.

Luckily she was not drooling, but her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. They were also following Mr. Shirtlessandhotaf very closely. By the time he reached the fridge, he noticed it too.

“Yeah, sorry- um... let me put on a shirt and come back. This is pretty rude of me...” he laughed nervously.

“Uh, yeah- I mean no. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. That’s all.” She replied, saving herself from ogling him more.

“James, by the way. My name’s James. A close friend of Jen’s. Not a robber.” James joked, extending his hand to her.

She was a bit confused, almost missed a beat.

“Oh right, hi! I am May, working with Jen on a project.” She shakes his hand, and she swoons.

It was a grip to be reckoned with, strong, sturdy and a bit cold from the drink he was holding. She liked it very very much. It was a good grip, not a bone crushing one.

“Okay, I’ll see you back here in a minute.” He had a little sparkle in his eyes making her wonder if she was being obvious and he knew.

“Yeah, okay.” She agreed with a grin. That grin always gets her sociable points.

All caution thrown to the wind, she brazenly takes in his retreating back. That’s when it hit her.

Her thing is for lithe lines on a lightly sculpted body. She always thought that when someone said chocolate abs, she totally got it. But now she knew it for sure, that chocolate needs to have a give between its lines.

As if someone kept the chocolate bar out for a few minutes, and your fingers could feel the sharp lines, but they would give in to you.

*phone dings*

Broken out of her little spiel into James’ shirtless hot bod, she checks her phone.

‘Hey, running late. Might take awhile. I forgot to tell you that my friend’s there, James. Don’t worry. He’s great!’

“Was that Jen?” James asks, pulling a white chair from Jen’s extensive chair collection and seating himself next to her barstool.

He looks pretty good in that black sweater. Too bad he looked better without it, but okay.

“Yeah, she’s getting late it seems. Also, introduced you over a message.” She sounded playful.

“Well, I’m glad that’s out of the way. Formal introductions, huh?” James was playing along, quite happily too.

“So, what are you working on with Jen, or is it a top-secret?”

She replies with a smile, “I wish it was, so I don’t have to talk about it- it’s on theatre diplomacy.”

“Theatre diplomacy?” He sounded confused, “That’s a thing?”

No you’re a thing! Oh god, a confused James is a snack James!!

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I wish it wasn’t. We got our instructions from up above, have to roll with it.”

“Are you from around here?”

“Nope, I’m from Glasgow.”

AARGHH, say Glasgow again!!!

“From Scotland then?”

“Didn’t my accent give it away?” He asked jokingly.

She chuckles at that, “It’s a pretty nice accent.” She is pretty sure James is on to her.

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from Colombo. Do you know where it is?”

James acted indignant, “Of course I do! Isn’t it in Latin America? In Colombia?”

“I’m sorry, that was bad! Sri Lanka, isn’t it?”

“It was a bad dad joke, but I’ll let it go. Yep, you got it.”

“Bet you like tea then?”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. Instead she just let out a huff.

“I don’t actually, I really like coffee.”

James smiled at her, like he got her exactly where he wanted her.

“Great, I know a great place for coffee two blocks down. You want to go there?”

And cue, she was reeling.

Ooh, he’s good. He’s very very good. HECK YES BOY.

She asks, “Like right now?”

He nods a little.

“Yeah sure, let me get my things.” She sounded calm and rational, a decent human.

But we all know, inside her head she was all-

AAFHEHDDLDLCLLFKRJAIZKFKCTHISISHAPPENINNGWOAHHXHSKIFKOSZYEAAASDD.

James looked excited too.

“Okay! Let me put this chair back and we’ll go.”

iwarai.

Fic dedicated to @ily3000-chubbythor ILY TOO

#drabble #fancfiction #jamesmcavoy #giffic #gif #ficrequests

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 5 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Dwayne

(Not my gif)(Requested by like three anonymous askers)

(Sorry if these suck its hard to write for someone who has like no lines)

- You met Dwayne on the boardwalk, the only place anyone has a chance of actually seeing the vamps. Laddie had ran past and knocked the bag out of your hands. As you were picking up everything that had spilled out, two more hands came to help you.

- When you looked up, voila, there he was in all his glory. You realized the boy was with him after he turned around and told him to apologize. You brushed off the apology with a smile, thanked the man and quickly retreated back into the crowd nervously.

- Dwayne decided that he needed to have you the moment he watched you practically run from him, a flustered look on your face and the sound of your quickened heartbeat racing in his ears.

- The two of you bump into each other again later that night.

“...Hi.” He’s never been much of a talker has he.

- The two of you share a small laugh and talk for a little bit before you have to go. As you go to walk off, he stops you and asks if you’d like to go out with him sometime. Because you’re a normal person with a functioning brain, you obviously agree to see him again.

- He takes you to the movies because he doesn’t trust his people/conversation skills. He’s somewhat shy when it comes to new people, especially when he’s alone with them and they’re as pretty as you. You take notice of the fact but to you, it’s kind of sweet and endearing. It’s nice to think that you have some sort of effect on the man who looks like he’s jumped straight out of a magazine.

- You guys keep looking over at each other more interested in the beauty beside you than the actual movie. You end up making out after thirty minutes of “watching” the film. It’s hard not to make out with someone who is just so kissable but I digress

- After that you continue to see each other. You would kiss and all that but he would also sometimes disappear for a day or two and sometimes more with no warning leaving you wondering if he was alive or not or if he really cared about you.

- You guys never put a label on what you had so you didn’t feel like you could really say anything about it or demand to know where he was going. You had fun with him when you did see him so you just tried to enjoy the time you spent with him and told yourself that you you guys weren't serious and that you shouldn't waste your time thinking about “what you guys are”.

- That is until your friends ask about him and whether you’re dating him or anyone else, you can’t exactly say you are since you don’t know so they try and set you up with someone else.

- Dwayne comes to visit you while you’re getting ready for your date and it’s obviously awkward when you have to explain where you’re going and why you’re so dressed up.

- You guys start to argue after he gets angry and when your date comes he straight up goes to the door and tells him to get the fuck off the property before closing the door and pulling you into a kiss.

“I don’t know if you were confused or what but you’re mine. So you never pull that shit again or else I’ll do more then just scare them away.”

- He’s not entirely romantic but you can’t complain, not many guys are but at least you can say Dwayne has his moments.

- He’s a bit temperamental. He’s quick to anger but hides it behind his usual stoic expression although now you’re an expert at spotting when his body tenses up and his jaw clenches.

- Jealous as hell, Paul makes fun of him for it and uses it against him when he’s bored and wants some entertainment.

- Though guys don’t really dare try to flirt with you anymore considering your brooding boyfriend is always behind you or at your side but there’s always a time when you’re “alone” and a guy will approach.

- You’ll be talking to a random guy in a completely polite and platonic manner while Dwayne’s watching on like a hawk as per usual. Paul will them proceed to stroll up beside him and trie to start shit.

“Damn do you see the way he’s looking at her Dwayne?”

“What are you talking about Paul?”

“Well man I’m just saying I would never let a guy look at my girl like that. I’d punch the guys lights out but obviously you’re more patient, trusting ... or just dumb.”

- He probably ends up fighting the guy later because Paul provoked him. You have to sit down and scold Paul because he knows damn well what he did.

- If you work a night shift he is always visiting you, he says he’s just hanging around the boardwalk and decided to drop by.

- You probably find out that he’s a vampire like months into the relationship. He probably doesn’t even tell you, you find out from him baring his teeth at some drunk guy who smacked your ass.

- You spend the rest of the night inspecting his face and teeth while he tries to explain it. He’s kind of scared that you’ll decide you can’t be with him because of the whole vampire thing.

- Intense and rough kisses, he either holds your face or your neck when you kiss.

- He’ll never admit it but he lets out soft moans when you kiss.

- It’s a very intimate and heavy experience, he’s one hell of a kisser and can get you to the point where you feel addicted to him.

- Motorcycle rides, he grabs your ass when he’s helping you onto his bike.

- Night time beach dates with bonfires. You cuddle into his side and watch the stars while listening to the crackling of the fire.

- He loves playing with your hair while you guys lay together, you can hear the slight jingle of his bracelets as his hand moves around your head.

- Wearing his jewelry, he’ll sometimes tell you to keep it when he sees the look on your face when you put it on and the way it looks on you.

- Head kisses, usually right at your hairline or on the top of your head.

- Finger guns

- Constant winking

- He’s like shirtless 24/7. Does he own a shirt? You don’t know.

- It’s sometimes annoying because girls ogle the hell out of him (who wouldn’t). He giggles in a manly way when you get jealous, he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world when you usher him away from girls

“You know I only like you baby.”

- He’d let you put makeup on him. He wears eyeliner himself and is surprisingly good with makeup.

- He also likes doing your makeup, he loves that he can be so close and have an excuse to touch and look at your face.

- You’re usually the one who initiates any affection. He does actually love when your touching on and kissing him especially when you do it to try and cheer him up.

- He feels like he can let his guard down around you and open up more than he ever has with anybody.

- He has never really felt this way about anyone else and he tells you this every so often.

- It’s his way of saying I love you but with more meaning.

- He feels like ‘I love you’ is really cliche and meaningless a lot of the time but if you want to say or want him to he will.

- You’re one of the things that makes him smile the most.

- His laugh can heal people.

- Loves when you straddle him and kiss his jaw and neck.

- Since he likes it so much he does the same thing to you. You can’t say that you don’t like it because lets be honest you do. A lot.

- Husky whispers in your ear or while your faces are close together.

- Little gifts from street vendors, you have a little key chain with your initials on it that he randomly got you one night.

- Thinks it’s impossible to get and stay mad at you. The instant he sees your sad face or hears an apology he forgives you he just can’t stand to see you upset.

- Paul teases him for this as well but he once saw you when you were upset and has never felt the same ever since.

- He can’t stand when your mad at him because he barely sees you as is and if you’re trying to avoid or ignore him how is he gonna spend some quality time with you. He’s very dramatic about this.

- Has literally stood outside your door knocking and calling for you until sunrise where you had to let him in so he didn’t fucking die. You finally talk and he apologizes while your checking that he’s not burnt to shit.

- You threaten to actually burn him if he ever does that again and he just kisses you; happy that you’ve forgiven him.

- He’s always looking out for you and making sure you’re safe

- He actually likes watching romcoms with you because he can see what you wish a guy would do for you. He takes notes ladies and he’ll become your’re ideal man.

- He calls you babe, sweetheart and hon.

- Couldn’t care less about stretch marks, he actually prefers them. He thinks they’re cool like they’re some type of tattoo.

- Staying up so you can see him. He tells you that you should really be sleeping but makes no move to leave or take you home.

- He’s stayed at your house during the day at least once, you spend it cuddled up in a dark room watching movies and enjoying the serenity.

- You surprise him with a room with blocked out windows and his heart melts when you ask him if it could work.

- He’s ready to die for you no joke.

- He mostly tries to keep you away from the guys, he knows they aren’t the safest or most trustworthy company.

- You are the friendliest with Paul out of all the guys, he’s the most easygoing and least ready to fight or kill you. He’s also borderline the only one Dwayne is slightly okay with you hanging out with.

- You only really met them because they found out about you and took it upon themselves to come to your work and introduce themselves. Dwayne could actually feel his heart drop when you told him.

- You don’t get why he doesn’t want you hanging out with them. They were only ever nice to you, slightly threatening but nice.

- He’s just trying to keep you safe and happy for as long as possible before you have to really make the decision between vampire or human.

- He’s willing to get married but would most likely want a small wedding with only close friends and family.

- He’s obviously good with kids. He wouldn’t mind stealing one and raising it with you.

- He might not be the easiest to date but he definitely makes it worth the trouble.

#dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys headcanons #the lost boys headcanon #dwayne the lost boys imagine #dwayne the lost boys headcanons #dwayne the lost boys x reader #dwayne imagine #dwayne x reader #dwayne headcanon #dwayne headcanons #80s movies #80s movie #80s imagine #80s imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

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buckysmusculararm · 7 years

Text

The 5 Times You See Steve Rogers Shirtless

Heavily inspired by @captainrogerss (but without the smut lol)

Here’s Tesla’s version

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none? I thinks. Let me know if you think there should be one??

*gif not mine. Credit to owner.

The first time you see Steve shirtless is after a grueling 3 day mission, in some remote area you don’t even know the name of. He’s sitting in the med bay, shirtless and alone, and has a long, bloody gash that runs along his lower torso.

You can’t help but gravitate towards him, “need any help with that, Cap?”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can turn enough to stitch it.”

You nod, reaching behind him for the medical kit. On the inside you feel like you’re about to throw up, but on the outside you look as calm as you had before you saw him. On a given day, even the most mundane of actions made you giddy inside, so when Steve steadies himself with a hand on your shoulder, you feel like you’re on fire. Your mind turns into a jumble and the only thing you can think is “holy crap, he’s touching my shoulder. Focus! Wait, why does he smell so minty?”

You mentally slap yourself a few times, knowing Steve probably thinks you’re weird for staring at him for longer than you’d like to admit. You carry on with cleaning and stitching, and soon Steve is pulling a shirt back on.

The next time you see Steve without a shirt is purely accidental. Your shower had broken before the 3 day mission, and you’ve had no time to ask about getting it fixed. Coincidentally, Steve’s room is just down the hall and you’re too tired to walk all the way to Natasha or Wanda’s rooms for theirs. Grabbing your clothes and other shower paraphernalia, you head to Steve’s room.

You knock a few times and step back, giving him some time to open the door. After a few moments you knock again.

“Hey Steve? Do you mind if I use your shower tonight? Mine’s broken and I haven’t gotten it fixed yet.”

There’s still no reply and your first instinct is to think he’s probably sleeping. “Steve? Are you alright in there?” Silence. “Alrighty, I’m coming in.”

Thankfully, you know Steve usually leaves his door unlocked, so you let yourself in. You look around to see he’s not there, and you’re about to leave when you hear a loud thump come from his bathroom. You run towards the sound and are about to yank the bathroom door open, when it suddenly swings out and hits you. For a moment, you black out and when you come to, Steve is hovering over you.

His hair is wet, obviously having just come from the shower, and he’s very much shirtless. Water droplets stream down his chest, as he leans over to assess you.

“You alright Y/N? I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

You nod, rubbing at the spot near your temple where you were hit. You sit up, and take one look at him, and sweet heavens, you’re ready to fall back down at how good he looks. Steve puts his hand on your back to support you, and the heat seeps into you, causing that familiar feeling of giddiness to come right back.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine,” you babble. “I was just coming in to ask if I could please borrow your shower? Mine’s broken.”

“Of course. You gonna be alright in there? I think I hit you pretty hard with the door.”

“Yeaaah I told you I’m fine,” you wave him off and stand up. You thank him quickly, before getting up to grab your stuff. On your way into the bathroom, you steal one last glance at him, and end up bumping into the door.

“Oh oops, um, clumsy me,” you mumble, before retreating into the safety of the bathroom.

It’s been a few weeks since your last shirtless encounter, and you’ve all but forgotten the image of Steve dripping wet over you.

The third time you see him without his shirt almost kills you. You aren’t technically a part of the team per se, but you are one of the nurses that works in the med bay, so seeing Steve is a common occurrence. Over time, you guys have grown to become friends, and after the multitude of missions the team has been on, you eventually became well acquainted with the rest of them too. And when you’re invited to join them at the park for a day off, you’re more than happy to accept.

You’re sitting in the shade under a large leafy tree, with a book in hand and a sandwich at your side. The weather is a little warm, and despite the shade, you’re getting a little uncomfortable from the sweat building up on your back.

The rest of the team runs around in the sun, playing flag football or something of the sort. You look up from your book briefly, and catch sight of Steve running with the ball in hand. He’s once again shirtless, and you can’t help but ogle him. He’s glistening with sweat, and you’re not sure whether or not to be thankful for the warm weather today.

“Hey Y/N! You wanna join us?!” You look up to see Bucky running towards you, his hand already outstretched to pull you up. You give him your hand, mumbling about how you don’t know how to play.

“Don’t worry doll. Steve here is an expert, he’ll help you.” He gives you a little push in Steve’s direction before calling out, “hey Steve! Mind teaching Y/N how to play?”

You quickly jibber out, ”no no, it’s okay. I can sit out. I’m not really the athletic type anyways.” But it’s too late. Steve’s already jogging over and before you know it, he’s pulling you aside to teach you how to play.

The rules are pretty simple and you get the hang of it in no time. You’re on the opposite team of Steve, and somehow the ball found its way into your hands. You’re running and running, and you see Steve coming towards you in all his glistening glory. You easily dodge him, and make your way to the makeshift goal they had made, before screaming “touchdown!!!”

You throw the ball down and do a little happy dance, a bright smile on your face. Before you know it, you’re being picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulder. You freak out at first before looking down. Oh. I recognize that ass.

You’re almost embarrassed at how you know it’s Steve’s, and turn bright red when you realize how much you’re touching him. His hands are holding your thighs, keeping you from falling over his shoulder, and your hands are on his upper back to hold yourself up.

“Steve! Put me down!”

You playfully slap his back, causing his grip on your thighs to tighten. You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven, because in all honesty, you really don’t mind the view. Steve’s back is just pure muscle. From the dimples at the bottom of his spine to his firm shoulder blades, this man was seemingly built by Greek gods.

Eventually he sets you down and you can’t help but smile as he grins at you.

“Gee you’re a quick learner Y/N. I might just pick you for my team next time.”

You smile even wider and laugh when he throws you over his shoulder again, and runs to join the rest of the team.

—

The fourth time you get to see Steve shirtless is no accident. Well, sort of. During that day at the park, Bucky had noticed the way you stared at his best friend. Bucky’s no fool, and wastes no time in tricking you into meeting up with Steve.

You enter the common hang out area, having just received a text from Bucky saying he wanted to hang out. When you get there, the only person there is Steve. He’s shirtless again, the AC units being upgraded, as Tony had declared that they weren’t meeting his “standards.”

You awkwardly shuffle around a bit, before Steve beckons you over. He’s watching a movie you’ve never seen, and despite having missed the first part, you find yourself watching it beside him.

A bowl of buttery popcorn sits in his lap and he holds it out to you, with a small smile. You grab a handful and pause, “wait, where’s Bucky?”

“He said he had to go run an errand. He left about 20 minutes ago. Why?”

“Just curious,” you shrug, but deep down you knew he had set you up.

You turn and bring your feet up onto the couch, facing Steve. You quickly glance at him and see he’s completely immersed into the movie. He’s slouching back a bit, but this does nothing to undermine how good he looks. You watch as his arms flex a little at a jump scare, the muscles becoming taut and firm.

Steve notices you looking, but pretends he doesn’t notice. He’s liked you for quite some time, falling for how kind you’ve always been when you had to patch him up after missions. But Steve isn’t quite sure how to pursue anything with you, so he keeps quiet, happily accepting whatever time he gets to spend with you.

—

The next time you seen Steve without cotton to hinder your view of him, is when he’s right in front of you. He’s got you pinned to a wall, his lips on yours and his hands intertwined with your own. You’re melting into his touch, wondering how you even got into this position in the first place.

Oh wait, that’s right. It all started when Bucky had come back from his so called “errand.” You questioned him, thinking it was just you two in the hall. Boy were you wrong. Steve had heard everything and the next thing you know, you were back in his room, stuck between him and a wall.

His hands wander along your hips, pushing you harder into the wall. Your hands snake into his hair, tugging lightly as his lips continue to move against yours. Surely, by now you would’ve been used to the sight of Steve shirtless, but for right now, it just took your breath away.

He soon began to leave small kisses around your face as you spoke. “Gee. No date first?”

He pulls away to grin at you. “Friday. Dinner. I’m cooking.” You smirk back at him before you peck his lips and pull away. Guess Steve’s gotta wait til Friday to see you shirtless.

Tags!

@wordsturnintostories @the-silver-iris

#buckysmusculararmfic #buckysmusculararm #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #marvel fic

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