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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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one night stand (stoncy)

The morning after he hooks up with Jonathan and Nancy, he wakes up alone.

He stretches towards the still-warm spot in Nancy’s bed, until he realizes no one’s there. His other side is cold. He’s pretty sure he fell asleep in the middle, so whoever was at his back has been gone a while.

He tries not to feel any specific way about that. He fails.

“Shit,” he says out loud, and tries to suffocate himself with a pillow.

When that fails, he gets out of bed. His clothes are all on the floor, leaving him uncomfortably exposed in a room that feels colder than it is. Usually he doesn’t have an issue with nakedness, but apparently flying too close to the sun will have you faceplant in ways you didn’t know were possible. He didn’t even put his underwear back on after.

Did Nancy? Did Jonathan? He can’t remember, and it bothers him.

His shirt is missing. There’s a different sweater in its place, though, a little too small but stretched wide in the shoulders. He lets himself take a moment to press it to his face, breathing in, before shrugging it on. It makes him feel marginally less alone.

Clothes on, he ventures down the stairs.

Nancy and Jonathan are talking in hushed voices in front of the stove, stopping as soon as they see him. The back of his neck prickles uncomfortably at the secrecy. Were they talking about him? They must have been, both their cheeks flush when they’re caught.

He’s pretty sure he knows what that means.

“I, uh.” He licks his lips, mouth dry. Nancy’s wearing his sweater. The dark blue looks good on her, makes her lips redder and her eyes sharper. Jonathan is wearing his own shirt he must have left here another time, because Steve’s wearing the one he had on yesterday. “Good morning?”

Nancy’s lips quirk, like she can’t help herself. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Jonathan echoes. His eyes meet Steve’s for an instant before flickering away. “How’d you sleep?”

As soon as he says it, he winces.

Steve can’t help laughing a little, even as it hurts. He’s just so cute when he’s awkward. “Pretty good,” he admits. “Longest I’ve slept in…a while, I think.”

No nightmares that he can remember, but he’d woken up with a weight on his chest that set him on edge. Still, it’s better than he’s been getting lately. And he slept for almost eight hours, a near unachievable feat these days.

“That’s good.”

“Jon’s making eggs,” Nancy blurts out, as if he can’t see the carton sitting on the counter. “Scrambled. There’s jam in the fridge, if you want toast.”

Scrambled eggs are his favorite. He wonders if Nancy remembers that, or if it’s just a coincidence.

“Thanks,” he says, scrubbing the back of his neck, “but I gotta go to work.”

They both freeze. Jonathan’s fingers turn white around the fork in his hand. “I thought you worked in the afternoon.”

“Picked up a double. Thanks for the offer though. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Nancy opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She swallows. “Yeah,” she echoes, “see you later.”

Jonathan turns back to his eggs. “Bye, Steve,” he says. His shoulders are tense. It’s a clear dismissal, and not one he’ll ignore.

He gives them a dorky little salute he immediately regrets and tries not to make it look like he’s too eager to escape.

Not even ten minutes after he starts his car he’s knocking on Robin’s window. Maybe he should feel bad about lying to them, but he needed to get out of there almost as badly as he needed to talk to her.

She shoves it up so quickly he doesn’t have time to stop knocking and nearly gets a first to the face. “What the fuck,” she hisses, but he’s already tumbling in.

He doesn’t even bother getting up off the floor before he declares, “I had sex with Nancy and Jonathan.”

She drops to the floor by his side.

They lay there in silence for a good few minutes. It may be the longest they’ve ever been quiet. He loves Robin’s rambling, loves how it fills up the empty space in his house and his head and his heart until he feels like he could sing with it. To exist here without it feels unnatural, makes him feel tense as he waits for her judgment to rain down on him.

“Shit,” she finally says.

That about sums it up. He rolls over and laughs until he cries.

“Okay, say that for me one more time.”

“We had sex,” he says. He doesn’t think she wants the details of that. “I woke up alone. I told them I had to go to work and came straight here.”

“So you lied and left.”

“They left first.” He doesn’t care if he sounds like a whiny kid right now, he hates waking up alone. He spends most of his nights in bed with Robin, either here or at his house. If she wakes up before him (a rare occurrence), she shakes him so he doesn’t have to open his eyes and be confronted with an empty bed.

“They don’t know, Steve,” she says quietly, tugging slightly at his hair to get the message across. “It sounds like they wanted you to stay. They made your favorite breakfast food.”

Nancy knew. He’d told her, forever ago. “They didn’t.”

“How do you know?”

He has a feeling she’s not going to accept “they just can’t” as an answer, so he doesn’t say anything at all.

She hears it anyway. “Is it really so hard to believe they might feel the same way about you as you feel about them?”

“Yes,” he sighs, rolling away from her probing eyes.

“Why?”

People who love you aren’t supposed to break your heart. They aren’t supposed to call you bullshit, or sleep with your maybe-maybe-not girlfriend, or ignore you for years afterwards and only talk to you when the world is ending. They’re not supposed to insult your family or call you a slut for the whole town to see either.

God help him, he fell anyway.

“They love each other,” he finally says. “They’ve always loved each other. There’s not- I don’t fit there. They made that pretty clear.”

He thought he did, for a bit. For the time it took for him to run back into the Byers’s messed-up house and fight a monster. The three of them had been so in sync, he thought briefly it could always be that way.

Until Jonathan pulled away from them. Until Nancy told him she didn’t love him. Until they both left him behind, holding the pieces of his shattered heart in his hands and wondering what went wrong.

Tommy wasn’t lying, when he called Steve a runner. He thought he’d gotten over it, gotten better at not taking the easy way out, but apparently when there’s no adrenaline rush it’s a hell of a lot harder to stick to your guns. He’s not willing to break his own heart like that again, even if it’s already too late. A little denial never hurt anyone.

He sees them again later that day. It’s so awkward he almost wishes another portal would open under his feet just so he could escape the conversation.

“Hey guys! Fancy seeing you here.” The fake cheerfulness in his own voice is enough to make him wince. Then, because apparently he loves twisting that knife in his chest, “Looking for something for date night?”

“Looking for you, actually,” Nancy says flatly. “You weren’t here this morning.”

Shit. He didn’t think they’d come look for him. Why didn’t he think about that? He was obviously lying, why wouldn’t they call him out on it? He cuts a panicked glance at Jonathan, but he’s got the same intense, upset look on his face that Nancy does. If he wants someone to save him from Nancy’s ire, it won’t be him.

Every second he goes without answering, Nancy’s glare deepens.

“Must have been on my break,” he finally says, and immediately kicks himself.

“You— on your—“ she opens and closes her mouth in disbelief, so mad she can’t talk. Shit, he’s definitely going to die today.

Jonathan puts a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Steve,” he says. There’s a slight tremor to his voice. Steve put that there. Steve made them so upset. He’s a fucking monster, God. No wonder they're mad at him. “Where did you go?”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I went to Robin’s.”

“Why?”

He gives him a look.

“But why would you go to Robin’s?” Nancy spits.

Woah, woah, woah. The fuck was that suppose to mean? He thought Nancy liked Robin. “Why are you saying it like that?”

“Saying what like that?”

“Her name,” he says, hackles raised. “What the hell, guys? What’s your problem?”

“You want to know what my problem is?”

“Nancy…” Jonathan warns, trying to pull her back. She shrugs him off.

“My problem,” she says loudly. He’s so lucky the store is empty, “is that you went to talk to Robin instead of us!”

“What is there to talk about?” He demands. It’s a genuine question, but he realizes as soon as it’s left his mouth that it’s not phrased as one.

Nancy makes a noise not unlike his mother’s tea kettle. Well, he lived a good life. At least Robin knows where his will is.

“You know what?” She finally snaps. “Fuck you, Steve.” And with that fun little note, she turns on her heel and leaves the store, bell ringing in the silence left in her wake.

When he looks at Jonathan, he’s clearly torn between following her or staying and talking to Steve. Well, he can help with that decision. “You should probably go after her.”

“I don’t…”

“It’s fine, man,” he says when Jonathan trails off, clearly at a loss. “I get it. It was just a silly mistake, right? No harm, no foul.” He smiles to show that he means it. It pulls at his cheeks uncomfortably, but it works. Probably because Jonathan isn’t looking at him.

“Right,” he echoes. “A mistake. It was just a mistake.”

He hovers for another minute, waiting for Steve to say something, but he’s too preoccupied with the lump in his throat. He knew that was all it was, but hearing it was like a punch to the gut. It takes all his self control to keep the tears at bay.

Finally, Jonathan swipes his wrist under his nose. “Right,” he says again, and leaves without another word.

Steve puts his head in his hands.

Forget Nancy. Robin is going to be the one to put him in the dirt.

“You told them it was a mistake?” She screeches. They’re so lucky they’re at his house. Or maybe not. It means there won't be witnesses to his murder.

“He agreed with me!”

“You told Nancy there was nothing to talk about? You said that? To her face?”

“Not technically,” he says. It’s a weak defense. “Besides, she was being weird about you! Like me talking to you was somehow insulting.”

“Yeah, because she wanted you to talk to them,” she insists, waving her hands around. “Dingus!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Uh, yes I do. You think Nancy and I don’t talk about you when we hang out?”

Wait, what? He sits up. “What the fuck? Did you tell them—“

“No!” Robin looks shamefaced. “Well, I sort of said you might be open to that kind of thing. I didn’t think it’d end up like this!”

“What the fuck? No, seriously Robin, why the hell would you do that?”

“Because I thought it would be good for you! I didn’t think you’d run away.”

He’s going to kill her. What is it about him that both of his best friends called him a coward? Whatever look is on his face, it makes Robin’s mouth shut with a click.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she swears. “I just meant…you have a habit of running away from things that will hurt you.”

He thinks of Tommy’s kiss-swollen lips, the look in his eyes when Steve walked away. The same eyes in an older face as he shouts at him for the last time. “I have some scars that would say otherwise.”

She nudges him gently. “You know that’s not what I meant. Just…think about it, okay?”

He hasn’t thought about anything else.

He doesn’t see them for another three weeks. They’re doing a stellar job at avoiding each other.

At least they were until Robin became a filthy traitor.

“You left,” Nancy spits, choked up. “You woke up, and you lied to us, and you left, and I thought—we thought—“

“Oh,” Steve says, “yeah, I kind of thought you were going to tell me it was a mistake and I didn’t want you to see me cry.”

“Steve.” Jonathan sounds downright heartbroken, eyes big and mouth turned in a frown that Steve feels awful for putting there.

“I thought you’d be nice about it! It’s not like I pictured you spitting in my face and calling me stupid for thinking you’d ever want me.” He totally did. He had a whole dream about it. Robin told him it was stress. Steve told her he’d give her something to stress about.

Jonathan gives him a look like he knows it’s bullshit. “We wanted you,” he insists. He looks at Nancy, and she gives him a nod. “We… we want you.”

“Oh.” It catches him off guard, even if the whole conversation was building to this anyway. He’s not stupid, he could read the signs just fine, but somehow hearing it out loud is what takes his breath away. “Cool.”

#one night stand au #stoncy #steve harrington #robin buckley #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #SO MANY COMMUNICATION PROBLEMS #if it seems like Steve is being deliberately obtuse it’s because he is hope that clears things up #Like in my head he knows Nancy and Jonathan want him to stay he’s just preemptively breaking his own heart before they can do it for him #stranger things fanfic

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itwasthereaminuteago · 2 years

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|| 02. Floor Sex ||

Kinktober Masterlist

Matt Murdock x female reader

Warnings: 18+ p in v sex.

After weeks of hinting, then nagging, and then threatening to sign up for a dodgy looking class you found on Craigslist - Matt finally agreed to teach you how to fight. Just a little. He’d been slightly worried that you might go looking for situations to test out your new skills after you’d gained more confidence, but you soon knocked that out of him.

“You honestly think I’m that careless?” you snark, circling around him in the musty boxing ring of Fogwell’s.

He tracks your movements and hears you bounce lightly on your feet as you pass him.

“No, I just remember what i was like when I first felt ready… I was uh, kinda reckless. I wanted to prove myself.”

“That was you. I’m not that silly, Matty.” You grin, darting to the side of him and throwing your first punch, aimed at the side of his ribs. He dodges it easily of course, turning and grabbing for your forearm but you yank it away just before he can catch you.

“Hah! Try harder baby.”

He smirks as he hears you dance away from him then circle back again. “I just want to be able to defend myself, if I'm on my own, without my darling devil looking out for me.”

He nods. “I know, I wish I could be there for you all the time but… please be careful?”

You duck to the floor, sweeping your leg around in a swift semi-circle, smacking his own right out from under him and sending him on his ass with an undignified thump. You leap on top of him pinning him down to the mat and basking in the glow of your victory.

“Maybe you need to take some of your own advice, huh?” you smile and lean down to peck him on the lips but he grabs you and rolls you both over so he’s now got you pinned down.

“Hmm, what was that you were saying?” He grins, kissing you back. A challenge. It turns heated in an instant and you're soon fighting to tear off every item of clothing so you can get at each other. Matt’s got you caged against the floor of the ring, both of you in your underwear, every heaving, desperate breath pressing his body against yours and you can feel how much he wants you.

"Do you submit, Murdock?" You ask between fervent kisses. He's working his way down your body, his mouth eagerly exploring every bare inch of you, unclasping your bra, sucking light marks across the swell of your breasts as he pulls it away, and licking down over your stomach to the waistband of your underwear. He tugs at it with his teeth and you lift your ass and help him whip them off. You shove his down too, yelping as once they're off he rolls you over again and has you straddling him.

"Yeah, I submit, sweetheart.”

“that's a good boy.” you purr, and Matt groans as you waste no more time, taking his thick, hard cock in your grip and sinking all the way down till he’s deliciously buried to the hilt inside you.

It’s a frenzied, fast, and dirty fuck. You can never get enough of how he feels, how he looks and sounds when you’ve got control over him. You set a furious pace, fucking him as if the world’s going to end at any moment. His hands run all over you, squeezing your ass when you lean forward and tug viciously at his lower lip with your teeth, caressing and cupping your breasts. He finally settles on gripping your hips to ground him, to try and slow you down because he can’t take this pace for long, can’t keep up with your singly focused lust.

“Fuck-”

He feels you tense and squeeze him inside you as you reach down between your bodies to get yourself off, circling your clit and fucking yourself on his cock like he’s a toy just for you, using him to make yourself feel good, make yourself cum. And by fuck if he doesn’t love that. It’s the hottest thing to just lie there and have you let out all of your frustration on his body. It’s all he can do just to hold on until you get what you want.

Your eyes flutter closed, head falling back on your shoulders, the fingers of your free hand gripping tightly and marking welts into the meat of Matt’s bicep with your nails as everything comes to a head. “Shit, Matt… oh god-”

You undulate your hips, the sensation of his cock dragging so deep inside is so good you wish you could bottle the feeling. When you look down at him you know he’s right on the edge, just one or two more rolls of your body and he’ll break right underneath you. It’s the heavenly little gasp he makes that sets off the chain reaction, that has you moaning his name, quaking around him as he grabs hold of your hips and can’t help but thrust up hard and fast, grunting as he unloads inside of you in a feverish crescendo of desire.

Tired, sore, and sweaty, the two of you lay in the ring. Then, after a while, he finally speaks.

"Don't think they’d teach you that at the Craigslist class."

#matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil x female reader #daredevil smut #kinkwasthereaminuteago #matt murdock x reader

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butterfluffy · 2 years

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“kiss me!”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· painting your lips red like your lover's, kid falls enchanted, and as if a spell was casted on him, he dived in for a spicy kiss just as he wanted.

⠀⠀➧ fluff, suggestive | eustass kid × gn!reader | oneshot

⠀⠀➧ warnings — suggestive, and ofc, swearing and mistakes may be present.. so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed until further notice!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: welcome to “kiss me!” special made to celebrate this account reaching 400+ followers! visit it to see more.

[ special mention : @kotaro16 ]

An amused chuckle left your mouth upon seeing your lover, Eustass Kid still sleeping on his bed—hair messy, same as his room, and his face all calm and peaceful, unlike when he's awake.

But the most eye-catching thing on this rare sight is no other than this one part on his face. Specifically, his unpainted lips that is always seen in a red shade.

Shit. You said to yourself, a blush creeping up your cheeks. Kid—he just looks so beautiful like that, so how can you not fall in love all over again with this tulip-haired bastard?

“Oh my, Kid. I fucking love you, you damned tulip...” You whispered, setting yourself down his bed and caressing his exposed back riddled with battle scars as your eye wandered around his room before falling on his lipstick.

“Oh?” Raising your brows, you then took the make-up. Holding it up and looking at it with full interest, lips curving up to a cheeky smirk by an idea you had.

The perfect idea to surprise this pirate. And it is to wear his lipstick to see his reaction on this.

So now applying the red lipstick on your lips carefully, you then smacked your lips, finishing up in an instant while your lover groaned, shifting around, waking up.

“..Ugh.” He groans, brows stitching to a frown the moment his eyes cracked open, the light blinding him.

“Ah, Kid. Good morning to you, sleepyhead.” You snicker, painted lips smiling to the red head who looked at you blankly, still sleepy and confused upon waking up.

“...Huh? Uh, hey. Morning.” Kid mumbles, tone confused as his eyes remained fixated on your face, your lips. Processing what he's looking at right now.

“Are you gonna eat breakfast or you wanna wash up first?” You ask, scratching Kid's red hair as he sat up straight, facing you in silence before speaking up—

“I'd rather eat you up right now, darlin'.” Kid says with a grin, causing you to widen your eyes in shock, turning into a blushing mess. “W-Wha, wait, why don't you wash up first—mhph!”

Immediately landing his lips on yours, Kid hungrily devoured your lips, smudging the red paint on it by his ministrations.

“Fuuucckk..! Now this is what you call a good morning, haha!” Kid laughs, licking his lips that had some traces of the lipstick you wore.

“Mhmp, shut up, let's just get breakfast.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes playfully, causing the red head to sneer, leaning forward to you once again while his hand rest on your leg, caressing it. “..Yeah, sure. Now c'mon, let me have it..~”

#ੈ♡˳· butterfluffy #ੈ♡˳· fluff's milestone special!#ੈ♡˳· “kiss me!” · special #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader #eustass captain kid #kid x reader #kid one piece x reader #eustass kid fanfiction #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #self indulgent fic i wrote bcs i badly need to kiss this tulip 🌷💗

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pretendingtoknowhowtowrite · 1 year

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TITLE: A familiar Scent (part 2 - part 1 here)

Summary: Dean and you just finished having some alone time (part 1) but, unfortunately, the lights were off. He thought that watching you properly was needed.

TAGS: Dean Winchester x Female!reader - smut - 18+ - oral -> female receiving - anal - fingering - uhhhh really smut - domdean with a bratty tone, still the dork he is. Fluffy moment at the end, 100% recommended if you have daddy issues (as always)

Words count: 1.5k

English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

I adore feedbacks, so feel free to comment/say stuff anonymously

Dean stared at your body with a smirk. <<Tell me, why didn't we turn on the light before?>> he said while looking at your sweaty waist. You chuckled and shook your head while looking at that smile. <<Come here, dork>> you replied and pointed at the bed again. <<Yes, ma'am>> he giggled and laid on his side. <<Soooo>> he added <<I meant it. I didn't taste you yet>> he continued with his hushed tone while gently caressing your thighs. His hand rapidly went between them, and reached your sweet spot again, his fingers moving around your lips, sending shivers up your spine. A moan of pleasure left your throat, and he took his fingers out and licked them slowly <<Sweet>> he smirked while looking at you <<and delicious>> he added and proceeded to spread your legs wide open. Dean kept his eyes locked on your body; your hips, your thighs were naked for him to observe. He sank his hands into your thighs and went closer to your slit with his face, you could feel his breath on you. The embarrassment and thrill made you crumble, and you quickly tried to cover your face while looking at Dean's. The moment your eyes met; a warm flood reached between your thighs. Dean noticed that and picked up your juices with his fingers. <<Light can be really arousing, uh?>> he said while rubbing his fingers with your juices, his eyes locked on yours. Dean licked his fingers and went down on you. He started tasting you slowly. He quickly found your clit and sucked it a bit, licked it, and bit it gently. Moans of pleasure were filling the room again, and your hands were already grasping the bedsheets as you were screaming Dean's name. You could feel his smirk against your pussy, and shortly after he was tasting your insides, you could feel his hot tongue moving inside of you, searching for your g-spot and savouring every movement.

<<Oh Dean>> you whined and ran your hand through his short hair. The moment Dean felt your hands he looked up at you, his tongue still inside of you. His green, lustful, and craving eyes met yours and another sigh escaped your throat, making him grin while going down on you. He started using his fingers too, in a moment he was pinching and rubbing your clit while his tongue was moving inside your womb.

You couldn't hold it anymore since his experienced fingers didn't let go of your clit for an instant. Shivers went down your spine, knees started weakening and trembling at the same moment. <<Good girl>> He whispered to you, raising his head up to see your face properly <<you did so good... cumming on my tongue and fingers>> he added and went in for a kiss. Your juices mixed with his saliva melted in your mouth, making you crumble with pleasure. <<How couldn't I?>> you asked Dean with a lustful look on your face. <<Oh, Stop looking at me with those eyes Y/N>>, Dean told you while biting his lower lip <<You have no idea how hard I'm gonna fuck you...again. You're so gonna regret this>> he added with a grin. He started touching and folding all your body, taking his time to look at it this time, staring at your curves and your beautiful imperfections, he watched carefully your moles, your skin, your breast, your hips and thighs, all of you. <<You're so fucking beautiful>> he said while fondling your body. Dean Winchester telling you that made you melt. You truly believed he was one of the most gorgeous human beings on earth, and he believed you were a goddess, that thought alone was enough to make you fall apart.

His hands were practically sinking into your skin, he let out a moan just looking at you and then said <<Please Y/N, please tell me you're into anal>>. You burst out laughing and looked at him <<Dean you could have said it in any other way, and you choose that one??>> you replied while smiling. He looked at your face, a bit red with embarrassment, did a downward smile, and added <<Just being honest and making sure you like it>>. You covered your face with a hand and answered <<Yeah Dean, I'm into that>>. Even though you weren't looking at him you heard his giggles of excitement, <<Oh you're so so so going to be the death of me>> he said and started kissing you again. Your bodies were pressed against each other, and you could feel his hard cock against your waist, apparently, Dean's refractory period wasn't too long... <<Baby, turn on your back for me, please>> he said while looking at you with his forest green eyes. He asked for it with such a gentle tone, so you just did it. The moment you were laying on your stomach he smacked your ass, and a gasp left your throat. He began folding it, his gaze was so heavy...you started dripping wet again. <<Oh, look at you>> he said while holding your waist <<so fucking pretty... I'm gonna start slowly, okay?>> he said and pushed one digit inside your ass. A whimper left your body, but you wanted more. Dean got closer to your ear and whispered <<relax Y/N. Everything is gonna be all right>>, as he said that one of his hands went down your waist and reached for your clit, he really wanted to be sure that you were relaxed.

He started rubbing it and stroking it with his fingers while his other digit was stretching your ass. The moment you started slightly trembling he shoved another digit inside of you. Another moan left your body. <<Atta girl>> he whispered with a smirk in your ear. His heavy breath and his sweat were soaking your body, his fingers weren't letting go of your clit and your body was on the verge of collapsing. <<Please Dean>> you whimpered <<put it in>>.

He didn't wait for you to repeat that, and he pushed his tip inside of you. His girth wasn't 2 fucking fingers, and a yell escaped your mouth. He gave you time to adjust around his width and started kissing your back <<Relax baby...do that for me, would you?>> he added and started to slowly push all his length inside of you. You were gripping the bedsheets, sinking your fingernails in the fabric. The pain and the pleasure were filling your mind and your body started trembling around Dean's cock and his experienced fingers. That man wasn't letting go of you for an instant, and it was driving you absolutely insane. His cock was twitching inside of you, Dean started moving slowly but his pace increased. He was moaning in your ear and your lewd noises were filling the room, the pleasure was too much to handle. Dean kept going inside and outside of your ass while biting your neck, stroking your clit, and moaning your name. <<Please cum inside Dean>> you said and turned your head to look at his face. Sweat was dripping from his jaw, his mouth was open to catch a breath, his gaze locked on your bodies, you wanted that moment to last forever. Dean looked at you the moment you said that, and he pulled out in a hurry, turned you on your back, and lifted your legs. He kissed you while keeping your legs up and pushed his dick inside your ass again. His pace was faster, his thrusts were deeper, and you started yelling his name in pleasure. You cummed again while looking at his lustful face, your body tightened up around Dean and his member, so he couldn't help it but to reach the climax, a growl left his throat, and he filled you up with his hot semen. He rested his body against yours; your heavy breathings were echoing in the room.

<<I'm not regretting this>> you giggled. Dean laughed softly and pulled out, you whimpered at the same time, his semen started dripping from your ass. <<Now look at that, how could I have seen that with the lights off?>> he said and went in for a kiss again. This was a gentle one, that made your chest warm and your head light.

<<Let's go take a shower Y/N>> he whispered in your ear and picked you up in his arms. Oh, how much you loved how he could carry you around everywhere. You curled up in his chest and kissed it in the meantime. <<I love you Dean>>you whispered.

<<Me too baby, me too>> he said and turned on the hot water for the two of you. He took care of you, washed your back, your hair, your body, gently smacked your ass (he couldn't help it) and kissed your forehead. You did the same for him but he had to lower his body or you couldn't reach his hair, that silly thing made the two of you chuckle. It was such a sweet moment that made you realise how much you loved Dean Winchester.

#dean winchester x female!reader smut #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #smut #spn smut

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bardnuts · 3 months

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17: Twill Slips Away

In which Twill communes with livestock

Be Gay, Do Drugs, Hail Satan - Chapter 17 - bardnuts - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

“And that’s how I fulfilled my oath and discovered the true meaning of friendship,” says Wyll. “Not a story for the faint of heart, I know, but there it is. What about you?”

It’s the dead of night. The air is frigid but the three of you are seated around Wyll’s tiefling friend Karlach, who has a medical condition of some persuasion and puts out enough heat to roast a sausage on. You’re camped in a low hollow off the enclave’s main cavern, safe inside the palisade. Wyll has spent the past hour spinning a yarn about his time since the nautiloid crash, something whimsical involving devils and mechanical organs and a case of mistaken identity, and you have hardly heard a word.

Your thoughts are a morass of red and black fluids, sliding around each other inside your head. The sound of your own pulse is a persistent beat at the base of your skull. Something is terribly wrong, and you can’t make it go away.

Astarion doesn’t look much better. He isn’t just pale, he’s translucent. He licks his lips every time he speaks. How often do vampires need to feed? Clearly more often than this.

You sit hunched on your bedrolls in a kind of covalent misery, subdued by your respective blood hungers.

Wyll seems to be having a wonderful evening.

Karlach is snoring.

“What about us, what?” asks Astarion.

You, at least, are certain your hunger has a cure. You’re sure the tadpole is causing it. If Halsin can extract your parasite, your urges will cease and you’ll be in command of your own mind again. You think you’re running out of time. Your face keeps making expressions on its own: a scowl, a grimace, an evil smile. Vile words bubble up on your tongue and you have to force them back down. You’re scared of yourself.

“Tell me about yourselves! Who you are, where you’ve been—before our untimely capture, I mean.”

Who are you, really?

No one you want to be.

Your hands tremble. You don’t have the wherewithal to reach for your lute, and you can’t remember how to play.

“Ugh, nobody and nowhere worth fawning over,” says Astarion. “I’m a magistrate back in the city. It’s all very tedious. But you …” He levels a slender finger at Wyll. “The Blade of Frontiers. My, my. Did you choose such a dashing title for yourself?”

Wyll laughs awkwardly. “Uh, well, you see …”

Your vision is swimming. Strange shapes dance at your periphery, vanishing when you turn your head. Hallucinations? You look down at your hands. They’re bruised. They’re clean. They’re covered in blood.

What is wrong with you?

You blink, and an hour has passed. Wyll and Astarion have moved to a more distant corner of the hollow and are chatting amiably with one another. You frown. You’ve agreed to join Wyll and Karlach’s venture to find Halsin—you’re all running on the same hourglass, after all, counting down to illithid-o’-clock—but you’re surprised by Astarion’s instant gravitation toward Wyll. He hasn’t so much as glanced your way since you left the druids’ sanctum. Why, you wonder, does he find Wyll’s enthusiasm so charming but yours so irritating?

Perhaps he’s afraid of you.

Good. Yes, excellent! It’s about time you received the respect that you’re owed. But you could do so much more to enforce your reputation. these aren’t your thoughts Tonight you will—

“No!” you snap. Astarion and Wyll fall silent at once. Karlach sits up with an aborted snore.

“SssnUGH—what? Somethin’ wrong?”

You lick your lips. Your mouth is full of paper. “All fine! Spider got on my … shoe …”

“Well, don’t hurt her,” mumbles Karlach, settling back down. “We’re in her house, you know.” The snore resumes before the end of her sentence.

Astarion is staring at you intently.

You collect yourself. “Does Gandrel know?” you ask Wyll, pointing to your eye. “About the worms?”

Wyll glances toward the hollow’s entrance. “No,” he says after a moment. “I think he knows we all fell from the nautiloid. It’s the only thing we all have in common. But I don’t think the other fish has swum into the net yet, if you get my meaning.”

“Ehm—no, frankly,” says Astarion.

“I mean he hasn’t worked out why a group of totally disparate strangers would be on a nautiloid in the first place,” whispers Wyll. “I think some of the refugees from Elturel have, but they have bigger things to worry about at the moment.” He shakes his head. “We need to find Halsin fast. Those kids don’t have long in there.”

“Oh please, it’s no contest if it comes to a fight,” scoffs Astarion. “Not when half the druids in the enclave are decorating the inside of a fishbowl.”

“It isn’t funny. If the wrong person finds them, they could be killed.”

“Darling,” says Astarion, placing a hand on Wyll’s shoulder, “call it tragic if it makes you feel better, but don’t you dare tell me it isn’t funny.”

Wyll sucks in his breath. “All right, it’s a little funny.”

Astarion smiles. “There you are.”

They both chuckle. Your head begins to swim again. You focus on their conversation to keep your awareness from slipping inward, into the yawning morass of yourself.

“Why stay?” Astarion asks. “Here, I mean. You have the same unwelcome houseguest as the bard and me, but instead of looking for a healer you’ve been—what? Hunting gnolls for a group of strangers? Why?”

“Because they needed my help,” says Wyll.

“I’m sure they will appreciate it very much when you explode into tentacles in front of them,” says Astarion dryly.

“It hasn’t happened yet. Besides, there’s something different about our parasites. We ought to have symptoms by now—hells, we ought to be insensible, shivering on our bedrolls as our skin peels off, layer by layer—”

“Eugh.”

“A grim portrait, I know. But …” Wyll shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Maybe they’ve died,” suggests Astarion.

You all know that isn’t true. Even if you couldn’t feel it moving around in there, the four of you are connected, peripherally: you feel Astarion’s presence in the world like a phantom limb, and you’re beginning to sense Wyll and Karlach in the same way. Your illithid worms are binding you together.

Wyll chuckles again. “We can only hope. And we can only hope Halsin knows of a cure. And that Halsin forgives what those kids have done to his people. Gods … I have a headache.”

“Do you want something for it?” asks Astarion. He produces a small bottle. “It’s amazing, what druids leave lying around in locked drawers in their private quarters.”

Your head is pounding. You need a distraction. Someone to pull you out of this. Anything. You shuffle gradually to your feet, drawing curious glances from Astarion and Wyll, and mumble, “Going for a walk.”

Suddenly you are standing by the oxpens in the larger cavern. You don’t remember coming here. Your awareness stutters in and out like the sun passing behind thick clouds. You fold yourself over the fence, saliva pooling in your mouth as nausea overwhelms you.

You’ve held yourself in for too long. There is a smirking edge to this thought. Did you think that was a real solution? Behind the dam, the pressure only builds.

Why can’t you simply be normal?

You do a very good job pretending to be a person. It serves you well.

You aren’t pretending anything.

Oh, but you are. You know when to smile and when to frown, which questions to ask, where to tease, where to commiserate … but it’s all paper dolls, isn’t it? Authenticity is for organs and offal. If anyone knew what you really were—your true self, under all that decoration—they would run from you in terror.

You don’t want anyone to be afraid of you.

No, you have never been interested in power, only in praise. But what good is being liked, if it comes at the expense of yourself? Of your birthright? Your purpose? You feel a stir of air on your cheek, almost like a gentle caress. Love yourself. Be true to your art. Tragedy and blood: that is your craft, and people are your medium.

You shiver. If you wished, you could be the savage ghost that haunts this grove. Sweep through and slit a few throats, then slip away in the small hours before the morning watch. You gleefully consider your options, who to leave alive and who to kill for maximum effect … Arabella, but not Mol. Zevlor—so there’s no one to lead the refugees.

no no no no no

That tiefling bard you played with—she’s much too talented to live. You always hated them, the ones who played better than you, and it will be a good

what is wrong with you

first step back toward your old self. The first rung on the ladder, so to speak. And you’ll need to fix your mistake with the Ravengard boy. Pathetic of you to stoop so low. Irresponsible, irredeemable behavior, but you can set it right …

these are not your thoughts this is not

what is it what is wrong

with me

There is no “me.”

There is only you.

One of the oxen snorts, its hot breath steaming up in a cloud. You raise your head and meet its glittering eye. Then, behind you, someone speaks:

“Can’t sleep?”

You turn and find Gandrel leaning against the fence a few paces away.

Your voice comes out remarkably steady. “I can’t ever sleep.”

“Aye. Me neither, it seems.” But he’s still dressed in his leathers, his sword belt still fastened. He’s awake on purpose. “Forgive me, but you seem unwell.”

He needn’t worry. You’ll feel much better, very soon.

“I’ll be fine.” You offer him a strained smile. “I suffer from … night terrors. Nausea.”

Gandrel watches you implacably for a moment. “My daughter had the same ailment. Do you want to know what helped her?”

You nod.

“We tried bedtime stories. She loved tales of roving heroes and daring adventurers. Those tales didn’t work on her night terrors—her dreams always managed to twist them into something horrifying. No, what worked in the end was laughter. If she woke up in tears, we’d ask what made her cry, and whatever it was—monsters in the dark, a drowned cat, Papa dead and gone—we’d sit and find a way to make a joke out of it. Very bleak jokes they were, too, sometimes. But they worked, so long as they got her laughing. The nightmares lost their power over her.”

“Hm. Know any good ones?”

“I’m not privy to your nightmares,” says Gandrel. “But you’re a bard—I’m sure you can cook up a few.”

You force out a noise similar to a laugh. He ought to leave now, if he wants to live. But he doesn’t. Instead he leans in closer.

“Tell me,” he says quietly, “you and your pale friend fell from the nautiloid, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I had a feeling the ‘roving bard’ story was an act. You both look too haggard and you’re too ill-equipped to have come here of your own volition, and your timing … well, everyone saw the nautiloid fall. If it weren’t for all the other dangers plaguing this place, it would be all anyone was talking about.” Gandrel toys absently with a loop of leather on his belt. “How long have you known your friend, really?”

“Not long.”

“I see. And …”

This is it. The two-hundred-dollar question.

“What’s his name?”

You meet Gandrel’s probing gaze. “His real name? To be honest, I don’t know. I never thought to ask.”

Deception: success

“Hm,” says Gandrel. “Master Twill, you took an interest in my work over lunch. Do you want to know why I’m hunting this particular vampire spawn? This ‘Astarion.’”

“If you’d care to tell me.”

“He’s the servant of a master vampire active in the lands around Baldur’s Gate. Cazador Szarr is his name. I don’t know how much you know of vampires—a fair piece, I’m guessing, given your education—but they are cruel, capricious, tyrannical creatures. They feed on trust and procreate by deception.” Gandrel takes a breath. “A great many of Cazador’s victims have been taken from my own community.”

“Seems like Cazador is the one you should be hunting then, doesn’t it?”

“He’s untouchable. And I don’t choose who I hunt. My people sent me after Astarion for one purpose: to capture him, bring him back alive, and open a pathway to his master.”

You count the tap of your fingertips against the fencepost. One-two-three-four. “A noble cause. Do you have any strong leads?”

“I have no record, no physical description, no information apart from his name and his race,” says Gandrel. “No leads, except for one: he was likely aboard the very same nautiloid whose destruction you have survived. It isn’t often a vampire spawn is separated so completely from his master. For my people, it represents a rare opportunity.”

You’ve always hated lying outright. Not because it’s wrong, of course, but because it’s sloppy. There is no artistry in a bold-faced lie. No interactivity. The best lies, you’ve always felt, begin with the truth.

“Do you know, Gandrel,” you say, speaking to the watching ox in its darkened pen, “I hope you find him. I really, really do.”

He pats your shoulder. You bide your time. “Thank you,” he says. “For working with me. I hope you’ll come to Baldur’s Gate with us when the road is safe for the refugees to leave. I think we may be friends indeed.”

“Yes,” you murmur, “and sooner than you think.”

Gandrel nods. “Good man.” He seems about to say something more, but instead he nods, pats your shoulder again, and slips away into the dark.

You smile to yourself.

#bg3 #twill cavander #astarion #the dark urge #be gay do drugs hail satan #read my drivel boy

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khazadspoon · 4 months

Text

Incident of the Coffee Shop Abomination

Don’t ask I have no idea what I’m doing. Full disclaimer I have no idea what goes well together in coffee so this is just my own blend of madness. And yes I will be developing this au in my head for my bedtime stories.

———

Few pleasures in life matched the pleasure of a good cup of coffee. Whether it was an expensive roast, cheap instant stuff from a tin, or something with several pumps of flavoured syrup, coffee was second to none. Or at least that was Gil Favor’s thinking on the matter.

He didn’t have the most sophisticated palette but he enjoyed coffee to an almost ridiculous degree, and he figured that meant he was well within his rights to single out places that did it well. One such place was a coffee shop in Texas, one he passed most months whilst travelling in his eighteen wheeler. It served pretty much anything and Gil spent more money there than he possibly should have considering he was trying to save for his two daughters to go to college. He hadn’t had the chance as a young man, so he wanted them to at least have the option.

But, coffee.

He mostly drank it black, no sugar, hot if he could but cold if it was forgotten in his cab for a few hours. Every so often he orders something a little different to satisfy his sweet tooth. Today it is up to whoever was making the thing to decide. It might be a mistake, might be the best decision he ever makes, but either way he hands over the cash to the cashier and drops his change in the tip jar.

The barista, if the kids that work here can be called baristas, has his back turned as he makes the drink. Gil waits, glances up every so often to see long fingered hands using various bottles and contraptions to make his drink. Gil mainly focuses on the puzzle game Maggie had insisted he buy and promptly gave up on when it got too difficult. He clears a level, mentally congratulates himself for being smarter than a twelve year old (at this, at least), and fumbles to put the phone away when his name is called.

“Favor?” The young man, not a kid at all really, pushes a take-out mug towards him with a slightly confused expression. “You sure about this, mister?”

He shrugs, takes hold of the mug, notes the name on the badge in front of him. “I don’t know, Rowdy; you put somethin’ in here I should be concerned about?”

Rowdy blinks, looks down and remembers his name tag, then grins. It’s the brightest grin Gil’s seen this early in the morning. “Nothing dangerous, but it’s my least conventional concoction yet. Just… take a sip before you leave, I wanna see what it does to you.”

Gil levels the barista with a look that would make any other man step back a little. Rowdy stands his ground, however, and gestures at the unknown coffee.

“Well? C’mon, mister, I’ve got other coffees to make and meetings to get bored in.”

“Alright! Alright, jeez…” He picks up the mug, blows through the little hole and knows there is whipped cream on top immediately. It’s a point in the drink’s favour, he does love a topping.

When the liquid hits his tongue the first thing he feels is confusion.

It is sweet, very sweet, but not like anything he’s had in a coffee before. Then he tastes salt in a way that reminds him of popcorn. He takes another sip, larger than the first, and finds himself wrapping both hands around the mug. For some reason he feels like he’s been handed something made purely to bring comfort.

“You, uh, you like it?” Rowdy asks in a small voice.

Gil swallows the mouthful of sweet, rich and creamy beverage and nods. “What in the name of all that is holy is it?” He manages to say, licking at his lips and staring at Rowdy with disbelief probably written across his face. “Please tell me you know and it wasn’t all random.”

Rowdy flushes a soft pink. “Blueberry, a pinch of salt, dash of black pepper, vanilla… whipped cream and a spoon of condensed milk, I think. You sure it ain’t the worst thing you ever tasted?”

Rowdy reaches out to take the mug and Gil pulls it close to his chest, cradles it like precious cargo, though he genuinely thinks it is. He plans on writing down whatever was in this thing and asking anyone he can to recreate it until the next time he passes through. “It’s good, great even, but… why ain’t I seen you here before?” He’s been driving through for a few years at least, dropping into the shop each time, and he can’t remember ever seeing Rowdy before. He thinks he would have remembered, the young man is as tall as Gil himself and if he makes drinks like this… Gil might need to buy himself a machine and write down the recipe.

“I’m usually out the back or upstairs. Deputy manager, not actually supposed to be out front but when someone calls in sick,” he shrugs, leans on the counter with his elbows, grinning wide again. “Can’t ask anyone to do something you wouldn’t do yourself when you’re acting as the boss.”

“Yeah, you’re right there.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it anyways. Nice to meet you, Mister Favor, maybe I’ll see you next time you drop by.”

Gil tips his hat and works his way back to his rig. As soon as he is in the cab with the coffee set in a cup holder, he takes out his phone and calls the only person who might understand the madness he’s experienced.

“It’s a bit early for an emergency, can it wait an hour?” Pete mumbles. He still answered on the second ring. Pete never left a call unanswered in his life, and Gil would know since he makes most of them.

“Pete, you remember those folks stories about tricksters and fairies and the like?”

A beat of silence. “I guess so, the ones we used to read to your girls? Why?”

“I think I just met one.”

Pete laughs at him until he hangs up.

Gil drinks the rest of the coffee as he rolls down the highway and wonders if he can swing another job on this route sooner rather than later.

#rawhide #gil favor #rowdy yates #Pete Nolan #coffee shop au

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blondiest · 3 months

Note

Strange ask, but what if Near was shy in bed?

mm. in a sexual context i don't usually think of near as shy so much as awkward / stilted, or occasionally bashful / self-conscious -- all of which can be elements of shyness, i suppose, but i think his character calls for some nuance here. i guess i mostly hesitate to describe him as simply shy in this case because i do not see him as innocent or naive (which i feel the phrase "shy in bed" can obliquely imply), but rather inexperienced and understandably nervous.

once he and mello are a solidly established couple / once near is no longer quite so inexperienced i can imagine he might affect some sort of demureness in. uh. a kinky way (<- thinking in particular of holdyouhostage near but possibly applicable to any number of universes) and i also think he probably has a bit of a thing for (mild) humiliation / degradation which -- that isn't the same thing as shyness, exactly, but there's a degree of embarrassment involved, so it feels linked? i guess?

i think it's probably easier to explain what i mean by examples, so i'll be including below the cut some snippets from already-posted works (plus one from an unposted WIP)

from i want to hold you hostage:

Near, despite his flushed cheeks and shaking hands, manages to give him an amused look. “I thought you said you weren’t going to be gentle with me this time.” Mello glares. “That doesn’t mean I wanna fucking injure you.” “Ah.” Near pauses awkwardly. “No, I wasn’t too sore.” “Good,” Mello says. “You could’ve just answered the first time instead of being a brat about it, you know.” Near pushes himself up onto his elbows and affects what Mello guesses is meant to be coquettishness. The actual result of the attempt is a comically strange expression, looking mostly like a mixture of clumsy flirtation and confusion, the oddness of it all enhanced further by Near’s very obvious erection tenting the front of his boxers. “Are you going to punish me?” He asks, and— it’s clearly meant to be a joke, and it’s meant to be a fucking stupid one at that, but there’s a thread of blistering vulnerability strung through the middle, one that wraps itself around Mello’s heart and tugs. The rush of unwilling affection quickly sours into frustration, so he pushes Near down flat on his back, then crawls over him, leering. “I’m going to ruin you,” he vows, a mean flash of glee hitting him when Near’s eyes dilate and the line of his throat bobs. “Now take off your underwear, and open your fucking mouth.”

from shot in the dark:

“Relax,” Mello mutters, pausing his assault on Near’s mouth momentarily. “I don’t bite. Or— not as hard as you do, anyway.” Near watches through his lashes as Mello smirks, amused by his own cleverness, and closes in again, nipping Near’s bottom lip. It’s a joke, but Near can’t tell if he’s being laughed at or if he’s meant to find it funny, too. Though he does try to relax, he fails quickly and miserably— if anything, he grows stiffer, more uncomfortable as he wallows in the knowledge of his own ignorance. Less than ten seconds into the renewed bout of attention, Mello withdraws, frowning. “What’s wrong with you?” He pokes Near in the cheek with the barrel of the gun. “It’s like kissing a fucking plank of wood.” Near bristles and turns his head, breaking Mello's grip on his face. “I don’t know what to do,” he says, irritated. The smug look that Mello gives him in response to this confession does not reduce his irritation. “Aw. You’re blushing.”

from nothing hurts like you do:

“You’re even pretty here,” Mello teases. Then, without warning, he presses a wet kiss to Near’s entrance. A stuttering, shocked gasp escapes Near, his fists tightening in the sheets. He was expecting to maybe feel Mello’s thumb, slicked with spit, not his tongue. “Mel— Mello,” he turns his face to the side to say, openly scandalized. Mello just hums and licks at him again, slow and languid. Near goes hot all over.

from early arrival:

The instant Mello’s fingers wrap around him, Near makes a sound. It’s too loud, but he can’t stop it. He can’t stop from thrusting into Mello’s grasp, either, or from shuddering and spilling over the older boy’s fist before he can stroke him even once more. When Near manages to open his eyes a second later, his first instinct is to be self-conscious over it. He’s twenty-one, and coming with little more than a single touch, keening and whining, seems immature, unbecoming, but— “Holy shit,” Mello hisses. “Near, holy shit, that was so fucking hot, I—”

and finally, from a mysterious mysterious femslash WIP:

“What do you think about?” Mello asks. Near has never felt so shy, but she’s eager enough to please Mello that she stammers out an answer anyway. “I— k-kissing, and— touching.” “Touching where?” Mello asks, batting her lashes coquettishly as she ever-so-lightly traces the slight curves of Near’s body through her baggy clothes. “All over,” Near says hoarsely. “You’re so cute, getting off just thinking about kissing and touching me,” Mello smiles coyly, a little condescending. “That’s barely even dirty.” Mello is absolutely patronizing her, but Near doesn’t really mind because she sounded like she meant it when she called Near cute.

#asks #meronia #thanks for the ask!! <3 #nsft

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robobarbie · 2 years

Note

Actor quest and actor mc play love interest

And quest confess that he never acts when it's a love scene with mc, because he is actually in love with them

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

"Darling," Quest murmurs. His hand cradles your cheek and you peer up at him through your wig.

"We can't do this," you respond half-heartedly.

"We can," he replies in an instant. His eyes flash with something -- you aren't sure what. "All you need to do is let me."

You swallow. His lips part and your eyes fall to them for a moment.

"Let you... let you do what?"

He smiles softly, tilting your head a bit and leaning in closer.

The microphone above you adjusts to make sure it catches every whisper -- but you barely notice it as you get sucked into this scene. Into the hungry gaze of your costar.

"Can I?"

You pause for a moment, acting out your character's brief deliberation, then hesitantly nod.

Quest surges forward and locks your lips with his, hands roaming your body. He breaks the kiss to nip and lick down your neck, and you allow the two of you to fall back to the bed behind you.

His hand touches a particular spot on your body that he hasn't grazed before and a soft cry escapes you. "Eric-!"

He pulls himself up. Something has shifted in his gaze -- it's gotten a bit... darker? Your heart pounds as he stares down at you.

His jaw clenches and then in an instant the darkness is gone, cleared away and replaced with the charming character Eric Wright.

"My name is a dream on your lips," he whispers, and kisses you again.

--------

That night, there's a knock on your dressing room.

"Come in!"

In the mirror, you see Quest open the door and close it behind him. You smile and turn.

"Hey! Still tired?"

"No, I'm good now," he waves his hand and takes a seat next to you.

"You seemed pretty drained after the scene today, so... I'm glad you got some rest." You turn back to the mirror and rub some moisturizer into your skin. "Haven't been getting much sleep lately?"

"Eh, it's alright. Some bad days recently, I guess."

"Yeah, there's been--"

"I need to talk to you."

Your fingers pause and your eyes slide back to your costar -- he's got that familiar look on his face. That I-have-to-get-this-off-my-chest-for-moral-reasons look.

"Okay, sure." You turn fully to face him again and take his hand. "What is it?" You trust him in these moments. Quest has always been good, and the things he says in these moments only heighten your opinion of him.

He bows his head and brings his other hand up to fold over yours. "I'm really... I'm struggling with the, uh... love scenes."

"Struggling?" You blink. "You? Are you joking?"

He shakes his head. "Not joking."

"But, everyone loves your work. Hell, I love your work."

His hands tighten a bit.

"You pull me into the scene so smoothly," you continue. "I've always wondered how you do that. Generate that instant chemistry."

"I don't generate it."

Your brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

He lifts his head with a sad smile. "I don't. It's all just... here. Always."

At your confused expression, he leans in, lifting your hand and placing it over his heart.

"It's... I'm not..." he struggles.

Your eyes search his. "You're not... what?"

"Acting." He chokes out the word, and you can see his jaw tighten again. "I'm not acting."

"... H-huh?"

You can't look away from him, and neither can he from you. The room is electric now, and you're acutely aware of the sound of your own heartbeat.

"Every night, I see those scenes, replay them..." A faint blush paints his cheeks as he forces himself to continue. "But I see you with me instead. In my room. Saying my name. My. Name."

"You--"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I want you. Bad. And not just... for one night." He swears under his breath and grips your hand tighter over his heart. "I want to be with you every night on this earth."

He lets one hand drop from where he holds you to settle on your thigh, tracing up.

"I don't know when it happened. Genuinely, I don't. But I need you. I want you. But I won't pursue anything if you don't feel the same--"

You lean forward and press your lips to his, cutting him off. He freezes in place -- he's waiting.

You tilt your head and open your mouth. His arms wrap around you then and pull you closer.

He pulls back for a moment. "Are you sure?" he breathes.

"Stop thinking. Of course I'm sure."

His blush deepens as he nods, carefully leading you back to him.

#LETSGO #bp ask #anon ask #bp goes to hollywood #quest

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out-of-control · 2 years

Text

PRESENT

words: 1397

warnings: unsanitary (?)

summary: jax’s birthday is february 27.

“Happy birthday to me,” Jax sings, coming over and flopping down on the couch, head in Jim’s lap. “Happy birthday toooo me, happy BIRTHDAY–” Jim presses a hand over Jax’s mouth to shut him up, so Jax licks it. Jim is a stone cold motherfucker though, because he doesn’t even flinch, so Jax just grabs Jim’s hand and yanks it off himself. “Tyrant. Guess what.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“No. I mean, yes, correct, but no. I’m getting myself a present. Guess.”

“Concert tickets.”

“No.”

“A ten inch dildo.”

“Jesus Christ, no.”

“A new coffee machine.”

“That would be smart, but no.”

“A puppy.”

“Aw, fuck, I wish.”

“I give up.”

“Lame,” Jax says, stretching. “A new tattoo.”

“Ooh,” Jim says, somewhat more interested. “Of what?”

“It’s gonna be, like, a sexy demon lady,” Jax says, spreading his hands. “Right on my arm.”

“What, you going straight now? Good luck with that,” Jim says, teasing. Jax swats his chin.

“You’re a close-minded bigot,” he says loftily. “And women love me.”

“Lesbians love you,” Jim replies.

“And they’ll love my new tattoo. You should come with me.”

“Hm?”

“To my appointment. It’ll be fun.”

“You sure you don’t just want a ride?” Jim says, arching one eyebrow.

Jax shrugs innocently. “Can’t a guy just want quality time? With his car-owning friends? On his birthday?”

Jim shoves him onto the floor.

–

Jax always gets excited at tattoo appointments, and chatters away at the guy as he’s prepped, arm shaved and wiped down. Jim’s quieter, responding when spoken to but mostly just looking interestedly at all the supplies laid out at the guy’s station; gloves and wipes and needles and ink and all the rest.

As the stencil is laid down, Jax nudges Jim’s shin with a boot. “Does it look good?” he asks, gesturing with his chin.

Jim considers it seriously. “Yeah,” he says finally. “It looks really good.”

Jax gets a Pavlovian little kick the instant the needle starts up, before it’s even in his skin. Heart pattering with anticipation, he watches, entranced as the needle gets closer and then, finally stabs in. He lets out a slow exhale as black lines begin to cover blue. Soon she’ll be a part of him.

The whole process lasts a couple hours. After the final wipe down, Jax takes one look at the irritated new tattoo, red skin and black ink, saucy arrowhead tail and sly little smile on the woman’s lips, and he falls in love. He thanks the guy profusely and tips as much as he can possibly afford, and then he drags Jim outside so he can do a little dance in the parking lot.

“I’m gonna name her Beverly,” he says, and tries to dip Jim, who is too tall for him to effectively lever down.

“Congratulations to you and Beverly,” Jim says, grinning.

–

On the drive home, Jax keeps picking at the tape keeping the bandage on.

“Cut that shit out,” Jim says, glancing at him before returning his gaze to the road. Jax sticks his tongue out, but stops fiddling.

They drive on for a few more miles in companionable silence. Abruptly, Jim puts his right turn signal on and steers the Tercel towards the shoulder.

“Uh?” Jax says, as Jim rolls the car into the grass on the side of the road and shifts it into park. Jim turns, unclipping his seatbelt, and squints at Jax. Jax, scratching his bicep, returns Jim’s gaze, an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Dude, you’re–”

Jim lunges forward and suddenly Jax is being kissed, wetly and kind of crazed. “Alright,” he tries to say, but Jim’s tongue is mostly in his mouth, so it comes out more like “Glaarbh.”

Jim crawls over the divider between the seats and drops himself fully in Jax’s lap, somehow all without breaking contact with Jax’s mouth. Jax wraps his arms around Jim’s waist and happily lets himself get mauled. Finally Jim has to come up for air, and says, breathless: “Christ, you’re hot.” A warm feeling trickles down Jax’s spine from the top of his skull to his pelvis, and he says, “Thanks, but, like, what–” Jim kisses him again and he melts utterly.

One of Jim’s hands scrabbles at the door, until it finds the handle and the door swings open, freezing February air making Jax suck in a displeased breath. “Hi?” he says, as Jim levers off of him and unfolds his long body out the door. He frowns, feeling bereft, but then Jim opens the door to the backseat and sits down and Jax thinks, Fuck yeah. Ignoring the open door, though, he just unclips his seatbelt, climbs right over the back of the passenger seat, and tumbles into Jim’s lap. “Idiot,” Jim says sort of fondly, and reaches over to close the door himself. Then he grabs Jax around his waist and bodily flips him over so that he’s lying underneath Jim, which is very, very hot.

“Happy birthday, shithead,” Jim breathes in his ear.

“It kind of feels like you’re the one getting the presents,” Jax says, as he is ground against. Then Jim grabs the hem of Jax’s shirt and yanks it off him; no easy feat since Jax is lying down. Jim places a palm over Jax’s hip, right over the roses, and Jax moans, Christ, he’s putty in Jim’s hands. Jim dips down, puts his lips on the dagger inked against Jax’s ribs, and it turns out Jax is putty in Jim’s mouth as well. Jim skates his teeth over bone, sharp little canines scratching the skin; traces each line with his tongue. Then he raises his head back up and kisses Jax, slipping a hand under the back of his neck to crush them deeper together. It feels carnal, predatory, like Jim is trying to devour Jax whole. His fingernails dig into Jax’s thighs. Jim rears back, holding himself over Jax, and his eyes flash orange in the setting sun. He grabs Jax’s arm, roughly, and turns it over, staring at the plastic-wrapped wound on his bicep. He licks his lips, then stretches his neck out and slowly swipes his tongue along the tattoo, bottom to top, through the plastic. Jax shivers.

“Hey,” Jax says, voice raspy. “Hey.”

“What,” Jim says, sounding equally ragged.

“Is that the most you’ve ever done with a woman?”

Jim snorts. “That’s a fun mystery for you to ponder.” And he kisses Jax again, so fiercely, licking into his mouth like a wildfire. Jax, who doesn’t mind the risk of getting burned, reaches for the hem of Jim’s shirt.

–

“So,” Jim says later, in the car with the lights on, seeming strangely awkward. “I did actually– I did get you something.”

Jax stops moving, one arm through his t-shirt. “You did?” he says, stupidly.

“Yeah,” Jim replies, ducking his head. Or, rather, Jax thought he was ducking his head, but actually, he’s bending down to reach underneath the seat and pull out a brown paper-wrapped package, which he drops in Jax’s lap.

Jax finishes putting his shirt on, darts his head forward, and kisses Jim on the ear, excitedly. “No shit.” And he tears it open. Underneath the paper is a plastic baggie, filled with about two dozen vintage novelty buttons.

“For your jacket,” Jim says, the tips of his ears turning pink, “or whatever else. If you want them.”

Jax pulls out a button reading, IF AT FIRST YOU DON’T SUCCEED, TO HELL WITH IT. “Dude,” he says reverently. “These rule. Thanks.” He pulls another button out, then reaches over and pins it to Jim’s jeans. I ♥ NY, Jim’s thigh now proclaims. Jim makes a face. “I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe?” he says.

“Good answer,” Jax replies. “Very Jersey of you.” He tucks the bag away in his pocket.

Jim looks over at him, tucks his hair behind an ear. “I didn’t fuck up your tattoo, did I?” he asks, sounding kind of guilty.

Jax cranes his neck to look at the plastic. “No, I don’t think so. The wrapping is waterproof. You freak.”

“You’re a freak.”

“You can’t call me a freak,” Jax says. “It’s my birthday.”

Jim sighs. “I guess not.”

Jax knocks his knuckles along Jim’s jaw, lightly. “Don’t worry. When it’s your birthday it’ll be your turn not to get called a freak.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Jim says.

#words

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bluinary · 2 years

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H0rny vent, minors don't read pls :)

#ok ok ok so i am dying of thirst lately right #and i have this friend who all we tend to talk about is sex bc were both thots #and hes gay and cis so he has many questions about female biology #and me and him and our str8 friend were all swimming together in his apartments pool #and mind you the str8 friend is like a little bro to me. hes my best friend aand dating my other close friend.#i set them up actually #but we were all hanging (all of us are old friends) and me and mark (the gay friend) have a history of fucking our friends #just out of curiosity and yknow. thottery.#so the question came up if me and str8 friend would ever hook up. and we agreed out loud that the answer was no #but uh. ive been getting an energy from him. hed never bc he has self control and were better off friends #i esp felt him staring in my swimsuit and trying not to. and its one of those things thats like no its never going to happen #bc itd be odd and its better off not happening. but ofc theres a small fantasy element now bc of that #so me being off my birth control. im extra horny. and when the boys fall asleep im on okcupid #find this dude whos willing to hook up that night. and oh. my. god.#first of all: hes huge. 6'2. broad shouldered. a dick i cant even get all the waway in my mouth #like the fucken chinchilla with a banana meme lmfao #second of all before we start he holds me by my waist while he stares up at me from the edge of the bed #and he licks his lips and says 'you look good'. so uh. instant turn on.#we start making out and grinding and he says under his breath 'imma have to see you again after this. youre too fine for just 1 night'#and ughhhhhhh how his huge hands felt on my waist. he hit thee spot that has me screaming #when i topped him he lifted me up and like. brought me back down on his dick. reprepeatedly. like i weighed nothing #and when i was riding him myself he goes 'you look so good while you do that'#then i gave him head (after he topped me and just fuckin wrecked me) and when he was close he told me to sit back #and just look pretty for him #he lifted up my chin and just started jerking himself off to me 😳#oh not to mention how he ordered me to look at him while he fucked me #oh my god. he just checked every kink box i had #oof including calling me a good girl #im just like. still reeling. like just the memory gets me wet lmao #i became such a bimbo around him.

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pottersfia · 3 years

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stress relief | hp x fem!reader

summary: after feeling stressed, harry comes to you for some time alone and reveals a new kink

warnings/content: making out, praise kink, switch!harry, sub/dom, mommy kink, oral (fem receiving), dry humping

a/n: this was my first smut so ??? it was really fun to write tho, i’m a whore for sub harry. also how ironic i’m posting this on mother’s day 🧍‍♀️

you were sitting in your bed, reading your favorite book when your attention was caught by the sound of your door opening.

you saw your boyfriend, harry, standing there with the key you gave him to your dorm. he locked the door as it closed and turned to you flashing a lazy smile. you smiled back at him and closed your book, marking where you left off.

“hi harry.” you greeted him.

“hi love.” he began to walk towards you and you moved to the edge of the bed, settling on your knees. you reached your arms out to him and he gladly wrapped his arms around you as you hugged him.

“you ok?” you asked him. he sighed and pulled away. you had your arms around his shoulders and he placed his on your waist, rubbing your skin slightly with his thumbs.

“not really.” he replied. you gave him a concerned look.

“what’s wrong?” harry shrugged.

“there’s a lot going on and it just feels like too much, you know?” you nodded at his words understanding what he was referring to. you were in your last year at hogwarts and no one really anticipated the pressure the end of this year would have to offer. you and harry hardly had time to be alone anymore.

“come sit on the bed.” you gestured to the side of the bed your pillows sat at and he nodded, pulling away from you to sit on your bed. you moved over to him and straddled his lap, leaning your head in the crook of his neck. you wrapping your arms around his torso and he returned the gesture.

“do you want to talk about it?” you asked him.

“no, i just want you right now.” he lifted your head and you pulled back to look at him.

“i love you.” you said.

“i love you too.” he smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. the moment was warm and comforting and you made sure to show every bit of your love for him in it. you lifted a hand to rest on his cheek and he softly put his on you chest near collarbone.

in almost an instant the energy of the room changed. harry bit on your bottom lip causing you to open your mouth and his tongue entered it, turning the moment into a heated make out session. his hand lifted to go around your neck, something he often did when he wanted more. you loved the feeling but sensed he was slightly letting you have more control in the kiss than normal.

you and harry had talked about your likes and dislikes as soon as your relationship got to a more intimate stage. although he was always in the dominant position, he expressed that he’d like to try being submissive. the two of you never got the chance to yet but in this moment you decided to take the initiative.

you moved your hips a bit to get more comfortable but in the process harry let out what seemed to be a whimper. you looked down, breaking the kiss, and saw the print of his growing boner in his pants. you felt a bit of accomplishment and wanted to break the dominant front he still had up. you moved your head up and connected your lips again into a passionate kiss.

you grabbed the wrist of the hand he had around your neck and pushed it down. from that action he was clearly startled and you smirked into the kiss. you pulled away from his lips and placed kisses on his jaw. you moved to leave wet kisses on his neck until you reached a spot that made him groan. you focused on leaving a hickey there as you moved your hips against him.

“y/n...” harry moaned out and put his hands on your waist, helping you keep the same pace. you lifted your head and smiled at the spot that was forming on his neck. you noticed how he tugged on the bottom of your, really it was his, sweatshirt.

“you want to see my tits, baby?” harry’s lust filled eyes looked straight into yours and he nodded eagerly.

“use your words, please.” your thumb rubbed his cheek.

“yes. i- uh, want your tits.” he said. you lifted the sweatshirt over your head and threw it off the bed. you studied his reaction as he saw you weren’t wearing a bra. he reached his hand up to touch them but you grabbed it before he could. he looked at you with wide eyes.

“i never said you could touch me.” harry knew what you were doing but he wasn’t go to let you get there all the way yet.

“i’ll touch you if i want to.” he snapped back. you raised your eyebrows at this and quietly laughed. you rubbed your hand on his boner making him close his eyes and whine at your touch.

“that’s what i thought.”

harry finally let go of whatever form of dominance he had left and let you takeover. you pulled the bottom of harry’s shirt up until it came off and began to unbutton his pants. he help in pulling them off and you admired the boy under you. he was anticipating your next move and looked completely desperate. his hair was messy and his chest moved up and down in an attempt to control his breathing.

you moved back to straddling his lap and harry’s breath hitched as you sat directly on his boner again. you moaned at the feeling and began to rub on him again, moving your hips.

“c-can i please suck on your tits?” harry whimpered out. you nodded.

“go ahead, baby.”

he put his mouth on your left boob and swirled his tongue around your nipple. his hands were back on your waist and he let out moans at the feeling of your clothed pussy on him. you rolled your eyes back at the stimulation you felt in your core and you chest.

“you’re doing so good harry. being such a good boy for me.” you moaned out. he let out a low groan and mumbled something incoherent.

“what was that?” you asked. harry stayed silent. you held his chin forcing him to look at you and let go of your tit.

“i asked a question, pretty boy.” you saw that he seemed nervous as he struggled to repeat himself.

“i said, erm,” he took a breath in and out through his nose. “i said yes mommy.” his face grew even more red than it already was and you smiled at the name.

“so my good boy wants to call me mommy?” you gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“is that ok?” he asked you.

“more than ok.”

you moved back off of him.

“harry, lay down for me.” without hesitation he did as told, placing a pillow under his head. you got back on top of him and rocked your hips. you were determined to make him cum right there. you leaned down, leaving kisses on his neck. harry was under so much pleasure that all he could do was let out uncontrollable moans and whimpers.

“oh my-, m-mommy you’re gonna make me...” he whined, unable to finish his sentence.

“be a good boy and cum whenever you need to. i’m right here, it’s ok.” you whispered in his ear and placed a kiss under it, picking up your speed.

“fuck!” you felt his cock twitch through your thin shorts. “ahh- i’m cumming,”

“cum for mommy, baby.” you prompted him. harry cried out as his orgasm reached him. you felt the small wet spot in his underwear grow as his cum shot out of him.

harry’s breathing slowed back down as you stopped moving and left kisses all over his face.

“you did so good harry. i love hear your pretty noises.” the boy whined at your words.

“thank you, mommy.” he breathed out.

you got off of him and pulled his underwear off.

“you made such a big mess, baby.” you licked some of the cum the dripped on his cock off all while keeping eye contact with him.

“merlin, y/n..” harry moaned and his cock twitched from still being sensitive.

“do you want to nap, harry?” he looked back at you and bit his lip.

“what about you?” he asked. you smiled.

“seeing you cum is enough pleasure for me.” you sat back next to where he laid down. he leaned up on his elbows.

“i want to eat you out mommy, please can i?” he said.

“well when you ask so nicely like that, how could i say no?” he smiled at your words and moved down between your legs.

he pulled off your shorts and groaned softly at the sight of the wet spot on your underwear.

“you’re so wet.” he practically whispered as he took your underwear off. he kissed your inner thighs slowly getting closer and closer to your needy pussy.

“stop teasing harry.” you whined out. he finally licked on your clit and watched as you moaned. he attached his mouth to it and sucked on your clit. you put a hand in his hair, slightly pulling on it causing him to let out a moan that only added to pleasure you received.

“look up at me, harry. mommy wants her pretty boy to watch her.” he looked up at you through his glasses. you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows as you felt yourself getting closer to your high.

“please cum on my tongue.” harry said and he moved his tongue to lick your hole and go inside you as his fingers rubbed your clit.

“oh, i’m so close-” you arched your back and moaned out. the grip you had on his hair got tighter and your legs shook as your finally reached your orgasm.

your breathing was heavy and you whined slightly as harry licked your sensitive pussy clean.

“you taste so good.” harry moved so he was hovering over you.

“thank you for being so good, baby.” you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

harry leaned down and laid so he was half on top of you, half not, and his head rested on your bare chest.

“shall we get cleaned up now?” you asked, running your hand gently through his hair.

“mmm, not yet. it’s really comfortable here.” he replied and left a kiss on one of your tits. you laughed slightly as you recalled everything that happened.

“well goo goo ga ga then bitch.” you joked. harry’s head shot ip and he looked at you with an “offended” facial expression.

“this is on me, love.” he smiled at you.

“you’re the one with the mommy kink!”

“you’re the one that agreed to it!”

you both burst out in laughter and he put his head back down. you sat in a comfortable silence, taking in the moment of being in each others embrace.

“can you stay here tonight?” you asked in almost a whisper, not wanting to break the silence quite yet. he nodded.

“whatever you want mommy.” he teased.

“harry!”

#harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter smut #harry potter smut #harry potter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry james potter

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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so, SO, Hear me out. This has been stuck in my head for DAYS. Can i request a Sapnap x reader smut, BUT Incubus!Sapnap. My brain is mush. Perhaps reader doesn't believe in demons etc, so they're trying to prove to themselves that these things indeed don't exist by trying to summon a demon, what type of demon? they don't know. Unfortunately(fortunately) for them, the ritual works and Sapnap is summoned. Afab reader with any pronouns, and Dom or switch Sapnap.

i literally love this idea sm. thank you for trusting me with it. [thank you to a friend of mine who helped me w some of the plot elements.] I hope you enjoy and happy reading! xx

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓. ⛧ 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐬!𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐧𝐚𝐩 (18+)

pairing: incubus!sapnap x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of an Ouija board, blood, oral (fm. receiving), smut, domination, choking

Your fishnets clung to your legs, yet provided little protection against the nipping breeze dragging icy fingers across your skin. You rubbed the arms of your jacket, attempting to generate more warmth as your breath fogged around you. Your friends giggled and kicked at each other, hanging around their shoulders and acting drunker than they actually were. It felt like icicles picked your heart each time you faintly felt like you were enjoying yourself, all because of Him.

His words echoed in your head each time a man approached you, finding yourself nearly too suspicious to believe they wouldn’t end up like He did: cold, distant, and arrogant.

The club had been too loud, in your opinion, but you’d be damned to let one of your friends know. They were focused on finding you a squeeze to preoccupy you while you got over Him. You didn’t need a distraction, you just needed to get rid of the thought of him.

One of your friends grabbed your arm, dragging you down a portion of concrete steps and into a lower-level shop. You briefly caught sight of the neon sign above the door, LOCAL PSYCHIC blinking in bright pink piping to welcome in tourists. You scoffed to yourself as you shrugged through the beaded curtain over the door.

The shop smelled of incense and a potpourri of unfamiliar herbs. A slender woman with long black hair looked up from a magazine, gold eyeliner sparkling in the dim lighting of the store. She watched the group of you carefully as your friends went straight for the Ouija boards in the corner. As you looked over her various shelves of exotic species of crystals, you could feel her eyes burning into your shoulder.

You sighed quietly, grabbing a green hued crystal and approaching her in lieu of your group. “So, this will get rid of my bad juju if I stick it in my bra, right?” You quipped jokingly, making her smuggly grin.

She straightened up, revealing a metal band t-shirt that you couldn’t pronounce the name of, let alone knew. “Gorgeous, you’ll need a fist full of moldavite to cleanse what you’ve got going on,” she jested, voice raspy and surveying. “Give me your hand,” she stated, more than asked. You reluctantly reached for her, her boney ringers cupped your hand, rings catching the candle light beside the cash register.

“Does it say I’ll disappear mysteriously after a boating accident?” You leered, making her bite her lip.

You could practically feel her breath on your skin. She studied your palm closely, wetting her lips. “I think I have something better than moldavite, though,” she quirked before digging her nail into the center, making you hiss. She drew a bit of blood from the wound, placing a business card against the spot. The center of the card oozed the crimson color seeping from the cut. “Call this number when you get home and all your bad juju will clear, my love. Him included,” she whispered. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“Of course not,” you answered, your eyes locked on hers as she smiled darkly at you, almost forebodingly. You flipped the card in your hand, a number plastered on one side and “REVERSE YOUR REGRETS,” printed boldly on the other. Your eyebrow perked at her. “What, is this a demon calling card?” You quizzed almost sarcastically.

Her dark, full lips twisted up. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

Your mouth ran dry as she smirked, fingers brushing against your own as your hand slipped from hers. You found it hard to speak on the bus ride home, or even form sentences while you were crammed between two of your friends as they all sparked chatter about their upcoming finals. One of the main reasons they bought the Ouija board was to ask a ghost to write their history and philosophy theses.

Your apartment was dark and alluringly quiet compared to the night of bright lights and ridiculous EDM you had endured for most of the night. You let your jacket slip to the floor as you switched on a lamp, washing your hands as your mind relayed what the woman from the shop had said. As you dried your hands, your eyes traveled towards the living room, the dark fabric of one of His hoodies peeking out from between the couch and the wall. You bit your tongue, anger flashing into your veins. “Even Him…” you thought, remembering what she had told you.

You grabbed your phone, slinking over to where your jacket was and fishing the card from your pocket. The red smudge of blood almost perfectly split the phone number in half. “You don’t believe in demons do you?”

“No, what kind of respectable adult believes in demons,” you grumbled to yourself, dialing the number. You turned the card over again, eyeing the words as you waited for the call to connect. Instead of ringing normally, three long dial tones sounded over your receiver, sending a shiver down your spine. Dogs of your apartment complex began to bark, sending feral noises of discomfort into the air.

An automated voice began to speak, startling you slightly. “Thank you for your call. Your sacrifice is pure and has been accepted. Congratulations.”

Sacrifice? The line went dead, your power fizzling out as well. You froze, your feet feeling as if your shoes were filled with cement. In an instant, your array of candles sparked to life, brightening the room. Your heart thundered in your chest, unsure of what was happening. Sacrifice?

You held your breath, waiting for what was to come. It seemed as if your apartment had been removed from the city outside, instead an eerie silence settled in the room, making it almost suffocating to be alone.

“Hello, dove,” a dark voice called from behind you, making you jump a foot in the air, chest wheezing from the jump scare. A man smirked at you, resting his chin in his hand as he looked at you. He dominated one of your chairs, his other hand drumming his fingers against the leather. His suit was well tailored, but he wore it rather lazily with his crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He wore dark nail polish, making his fingers appear longer.

His eyes trailed your body, pressing his lips together as you realized how tightly you were clutching your phone and the card. “How did you get in here?” You asked, your voice barely audible.

He stood, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. He walked over to you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your breath was measured, your body drawn to him as if you were an animal in heat. “You summoned me, puppy,” he answered, voice dipping an octave before dragging the card from your fingers. Your skin burned and sparked at his touch. His smell was intoxicatingly enticing, making your mouth water.

He held the card between two fingers, his eyes locking to yours indefinitely. “You even bound yourself to me,” he noted, letting his finger pad draw across the blood stain on the card. “Little minx,” he mumbled.

You swallowed. “What are you?” You managed, words uneven and almost jumbled.

He turned slightly on his heel, circling around you slowly, fingers dragging against the fabric of your shirt before snaking around the back of your throat. His thumb teased against your skin almost as if he was restraining himself from ripping you in half. “They call me Sapnap. Some might categorize me as a demon, but that seems rather exaggerated, don’t you think?” He responded. “I’m here to help you reverse your regrets.”

You inhaled sharply. “What does that mean?”

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Baby, I’m here to make you feel good again,” he divulged, the heat of his breath skimming against your neck, urging you to submit to him. "I'm here to make you forget all about Him."

In an instant you found yourself pinned beneath him, the sheets on your bed cast aside along with most of your clothes. He watched you sternly as he slipped his jacket off his shoulders, unbuttoning his collared shirt, pupils blown with lust at your hungry appearance.

Sapnap ground his hips against yours, tugging on your thighs to bring you closer to him. Your back arched slightly, fingers digging into the sheets as his lips traveled from your neck to your chest, one of his large hands palming your breast. You stifled a moan, hips bucking against him. He pressed his tongue against your navel, licking a strip against your skin before he was in your ear again. His fingers curled around your waistband. "Uh uh, dove. I wanna hear you."

He leaned back on his knees, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs as he trailed towards your core. His eyes danced up to yours, briefly gauging your reaction before slipping his finger between the skin of your hips and your lacy undergarments, tugging them down your legs. He pressed open mouth kisses to your thighs once more, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh with a restraint you had half a mind to egg on.

He hooked his arms around your thighs, burying his face where you needed him the most. Your body reacted to the pleasure of his tongue almost instantly, fighting to clamp your legs around his head as your toes curled. Sapnap was taking his time with you, eating you out as if you were his last meal, humming slightly to send vibrations against your nerve endings.

You threaded your fingers through his dark hair, rolling your hips against his mouth and muttering his name. He moved, teeth sinking into your thigh as he pressed his finger into you, making you moan incoherently. You tugged at his hair, earning a groan in pleasure as you noticed him grinding against the mattress. His lips were back on your heat as his finger curled inside of you.

He added another finger, finding your sweet spot almost as if your body had been made for him specifically. With each swirl of his tongue and his moans at the sight of you enjoying the chase of your orgasm, the more the tension began to build within you. He quickened his pace as he watched you pant, coaxing you closer to the edge.

Sapnap moved his head from side to side, flattening his tongue for more friction, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Cum for me, baby," he commanded, breath hot against your core. You relinquished control of your body, letting your climax rip through your body, leaving you breathless and stunned.

He wore the devil's smile as kissed the inside of your knee, praising you heavily for heeding to his demands. "Good girl," he cooed, voice dark and drawn with lust as he moved to press his lips against your shoulder. "Such a good girl."

His lips traveled beneath your ear, nipping at the skin before pressing his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands holding your chin.

He discarded his pants, spitting in his hand and stroking himself a few times as his eyes burned into yours. He dragged you towards him, gripping onto your hips before driving himself into you. You groaned at the pressure, grinding against his hips and earning a smirk from him. "So needy. Have I not been good to you thus far?" His words dripped with a god complex you had yet to taste.

You whimpered slightly before he rolled his hips against yours. He retracted himself before slowly thrusting into you, watching with pride as you writhed for more of him. "I could kill you, you know?" He stated, thrusting into you harshly, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head.

You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around one of his wrists. "You won't," you moaned as he set a pace, digging his hips into yours.

Sapnap's other arm moved, wrapping his hand around your neck and squeezing slightly, as if showing you he could do worse. "Says who?" He provoked, pressing his lips against yours, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier, deeper as he buried himself into you. "Me," you answered. He grinned deviously, pinning your knee to your chest and pounding into you, basking in your moans like they were personalized ego boasts. "I can take it," you groaned quietly, enticing him. He tightened his hold on your neck, causing your vision to blur in pleasure as heat rushed through your body, his roughness a perfect catalyst to your cardinal hunger.

"That's right, sweetheart," he grunted, eyes seeming to burn brighter with your submission. "Take it," he mirrored, his pace relentless against you as if testing your limits. He pressed his thumb in your mouth, moaning as your teeth rested against it, tongue darting out against it. You focused on his eyes, trying not to roll your own as your body ached to climax.

You could see the veins in his neck becoming more prominent and he removed his thumb only to grip your jaw in his hand, shoving his tongue into your mouth to lap at your whimpers. His hands moved to pin your forearms to the mattress beside you, his lips melding against yours as the two of you pushed each other to orgasms. You could feel his pleasure coming undone within you, finally acting as the jumping-off point for your second climax.

You panted, hurriedly attempting to catch your breath as he pulled out of you, sighing in pleasure.

He moved to begin dressing, holding your card between his teeth as he buckled his belt around his waist. Your mind blurred in bliss, still riding your high. It didn't really bother you if he left or stayed.

He finished buttoning his shirt as you sat up on your elbows, watching him straighten his appearance. "I'll call on you soon," he stated, tucking the card with your blood on it into his breast pocket.

You quipped an eyebrow at him. "This is a normal thing now?" You questioned, the situation seeming different.

He patted his pocket to gesture to the card. "You're mine, dove. I get you whenever I want," he smirked. He rested his knee on the edge of your bed, leaning down to press his lips against yours possessively.

#sapnap smut #sapnap fanfic #sapnap x reader #sapnap imagine #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n #incubus #demon au #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #🍭 anon

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

i'm not the winter soldier anymore, i'm james buchanan barnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

SPOILERS — 1x03!!!

you help Bucky with a panic attack, after coming back from Madripoor.

word count: 1.145 words.

warnings/tags: ptsd situation, panic attack, reader insert.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

It wasn't inevitable for you to not notice that Bucky had been absent-minded since the three of you came to the bar. The beers were rolling on the table as the chat turned from their mission to Sam's war stories. You were having a good night, sharing laughs and past adventures, disconnecting from work, until Bucky stood up while having a long sip from his bottle. I need air, he just said, causing your other partner and you to look at each other a little confused. You glanced at him leaving the place before putting back your attention on Sam. He waved his head to the exit, urging you to follow the soldier outside.

You didn't need anything else to do it, leading your steps throughout the crowd of people there to find Bucky. Once outdoors and zipping up your jacket, you glimpsed a shadow coming into the next corner to a dead-end street. Rubbing your nose, you continued to the alley without hesitating, hearing some grunts echoing between both buildings. He was there. Hands placed against the wall, head bowed and eyes closed. His chest rose and fell furious, trying to breathe. You didn't think about your actions, putting a foot wrong when you rested your fingers on his middle back.

His whole anatomy shook, walking away from you almost sweating and scared, but ready to attack. Until Bucky laid his eyes on you.

“It's okay, it's okay… It's me”. You intoned using a soft and calm tone of voice.

“Sorry, uh… I just… I can't bre— breathe”. He waved the vibranium hand close to his chest, gasping like a fish out of water.

He was having a panic attack and you knew exactly why. Taking two long strides, you landed a hand on the back of his head and grabbed his flesh hand strongly, guiding him to the closest wall to rest him on it.

“Hey, hey, James… James focus on me, c'mon, focus on me”. You called him, sliding your fingers across his neck to force him to look at you. “Breathe with me, okay?”

Fixing your orbs in his, you show him how he had to do it. Inhaling through your nostrils, holding the air for three seconds, and exhaling it by your nose. He followed your instructions, once and again, until he was respiring quietly and normally.

“Now, repeat with me. I'm not the Winter Soldier anymore, I'm James Buchanan Barnes”.

“I'm no— not the Winter… Soldier anymore… I'm James Buchanan Barnes”.

“That's it… That's it... One more time. Can you say it for me one more time? Please”. Your honeyed tone made his pulse slow down, nodding with his chin.

“I'm not the Winter Soldier anymore. I'm James Buchanan Barnes”. His voice was firm now, finally believing his own affirmation.

“You back?” You whispered caressing his rough cheek using your thumb.

“Yeah… I just… had all those voices… screaming inside my head. I couldn't shut them up”. He explained, squeezing your hand between his digits, rested close to his heart. “That… That… I, uh… In Madripoor… I… I heard Zemo saying how easy was for me to… y'know, come ba—”

“Don't do that to yourself, Bucky. You've worked really hard to be where you are right now”.

“You mean in an alley that smells like peed and puke, having an atta—”.

Again, you didn't think about your actions, slapping his face with your free hand and furrowing towards him. Bucky's mouth dropped to the floor, more than surprised and gulping a complaint.

“Why…? Did you just…? What the hell?”

“You were wandering again”. You excused your gesture. “Want another, uh?”

“Hell, no!” He pouted at you, looking through his eyelids trying to make you feel sorry. “Why a slap? Did you think that was a good way to calm somebody? Why not a kiss?”

“Oh, god… here we go 'gain”. You couldn't help but roll your eyes with the intention of drawing some distance between both, but he pushed you closer till your chests were practically stuck to the other.

“'M not stupid”. He scoffed securing his vibranium arm around your lower back to not let you go.

“I was worried, Buck”.

“See? You call me like that”.

“Like what? It's your name”.

“Uh… Not actually”. The soldier replied, shaking his head to both sides briefly. “Only Steve called me like that, he was my friend”.

“So am I”.

“Are you?”

His gaze made you feel weak, breaking down the walls around your heart that too much time costed you to build. You licked your upper lip with resignation, leaning and resting your forehead on his clavicle. You afforded to close your eyes and tour his neck back to his scalp to tangle your fingers there, slowly, gently, fondly. It was a step to admit your real feelings for Bucky, and he accepted it without refusing.

The soldier kissed your temple to put his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter and rolling down his eyelids to only focus on your caresses. For an instant, everything disappeared around you. The world got emptied. The noise got shut down.

“I was scared. Not for me, but for you”. You confessed, not needing to explain why. He was conscious about your reasons because he was too somehow. “But that's not gonna happen again”.

At the moment you raised your face, Bucky took the advantage to press his lips on your forehead. “How could it, if I have you to remind me who I am?”

“I'm just a plus, Buck. Don't give me a credit you earned by yourself and your constant work. You did it alone, I just supported you”.

“Like fewer people did, and like fewer people do”.

“You've never cared about people's opinion”.

“Yeah, till my relationship with Sam changed. And till I met you”. Bucky affirmed very securely.

“But don't forget you're a fighter. You're strong, you deserve good things to happen to your life”.

“I won't”. He responded, bringing your hand tangled to his flesh one to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of yours. “Thank you…”

“You don't have to”. Clicking your tongue, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. “Let's come back to the bar, we need another round of beers”.

“I can't get drunk, remember?”

“You have so much fun watching me being drunk, remember?”

“How could I forget it? You always make that… horrible impression of my arm, with those… robot noises”. Bucky chuckled, pinching your side and causing you to jump slightly under his grip. Your laugh made him feel better.

“C'mon! You love it!”

“Oh, yeah, I do”. He opened his eyes a little more, nodding his head while placing his vibranium arm on your shoulders, but without loosening the hold around your other hand. “I'd like to see you imitating Sam tonight”.

“Nasty boy…” You joked with a giggle.

feedback is appreciated. lemme know in a comment if you enjoyed it. and REBLOG!!! 🤍

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader

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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

oh no, mr suh, please don't spank me

johnny x fem reader

cameo: taeyong

genre: !!smut!!, roommates au, fake enemies to lovers, a little tiny fluffy angst bc it's my brand apparently

warnings: a lot of mutual teasing, finger sucking, sexting, solo f and m, spanking, marking, dry humping, hand job, fingering, slight cum play, not protected, overstimulation f and m, multiple orgasms, penetration, manhandling, oral m and f, tiny degradation (sparse use of ‘little slut’), rough

words: 7K

it’s finally here!! this one is very juicy haha good luck I guess :) keep your panties dry challenge

taglist: @comically-sleep-deprived @strawberrymilkandcigarettes @theworld-accordingtocasey @kibumingi

_____

"Johnny, get lost."

You raised your eyes to meet Johnny's peaceful face in the middle of the corridor, one of them still twitching for waking up so early.

He smirked and didn't move.

You made a step on the right.

He did the same.

"John," you made a step on the left.

His body kept blocking your way.

"Why? Are you busy?" His voice was deep and thick like honey and in other circumstances you would have wanted to listen to it forever. But that morning you woke up without a single ounce of patience.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, unlike you."

"I'm also busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?"

"Getting between your legs."

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but snort once.

He has been playing that game for weeks now. A little touch here, a little compliment there, but it was the first time to see him this pushy.

"I told you that I don't want to sleep with my roommates," you walked around him, teasingly hitting his shoulder with yours.

You weren't surprised to feel his fingers wrap your arm and turn you around.

"You don't have to sleep with me. I can sleep well on my own. I need you awake."

Johnny let his palm dance on your skin until it got to your throat, his thumb rising slowly and caressing your lips. You gulped and looked down at his hand before locking eyes with him again.

"You know what I mean," your breath and moving mouth tickled his finger and the twinkle in the man's eyes amused you. You were about to add something else but decided to do something instead - giving him new ideas to continue jerking off to later, since his dick will still be dry for a long time.

But when you softly pulled his thumb into your mouth, you didn't expect to be the first to get that excited.

Johnny let out the ghost of a sigh, staring at the way your pursed lips dragged around his skin, the softness of your tongue licking the tip after giving it a good suck.

"Hm. Knew you were a little slut."

You chuckled and raised your hands to press them on his chest and push him away before turning around with the intent of leaving him hot and bothered.

But he was quicker. In a second your wrists were blocked by his strong fingers and his head was shaking.

"No touching."

You narrowed your eyes amused.

"Oh yeah? And what should I do for you to let me touch you?"

His fingers intertwined with yours and if he didn't have that lustful expression on, the gesture would have been almost sweet.

"Beg?"

You opened your mouth in a slightly surprised o.

"Me? Beg? I don't beg."

Johnny let go of your hands with a smirk and ghosted your chest until getting to the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed.

"Stop me," he whispered but all of a sudden you couldn't concentrate on forming words and frankly, you realized you didn’t want to either.

So he knelt in front of you and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, revealing your thighs and underwear, pushing it up until exposing your stomach. His breath tickled your skin first then you felt his lips, and when he placed the first kiss you got goosebumps all over your body. Johnny chuckled slowly and palmed your legs as if getting rid of the bumps but it only added to the heightening sensation his mouth was building up. And when he took out the tongue, circling your belly button, you breathed in deeply and grabbed his hair. He liked it since a pleasant grunt formed on his lips, which were going down until meeting the cotton of the underwear, then on one side, tackling your hip with slow kisses.

Right when you were about to close your eyes and moan, you suddenly couldn't feel Johnny's lips on you anymore. You stared down just to see his annoying smirk, his locks still in your hand and his eyebrow raised upon seeing the little wet patch formed on your panties.

He got up with a swift movement as if he had finished with all of his to-do list for the day and smiled.

"I'll go make breakfast," he announced and walked around you whistling.

_____

Said breakfast was being consumed in silence.

You had to change your underwear because the situation between your legs got too much out of control and when you came back Johnny already made coffee and pancakes. With little glances at his face you wondered how come he was that calm and, the most important thing, how come there was no tent in his gray sweatpants.

Did he really think he could start a war and win? You scoffed while angrily munching on the last pieces of pancakes.

"You okay?" he licked his lips after finishing his coffee.

"Of course," you replied dryly, standing up and grabbing your plate directed towards the kitchen like a tornado.

"Your vibes are kinda dark though?" he raised his voice for you to be able to hear over the clanging of dishes.

"Mind your own business," you came back, the violent shift of air as you passed near him almost making his hair swoosh.

_____

Tight clothes? No, more. Lingerie? Uh uh, more. Naked? Maybe too much. Towel? Fuck yeah, towel.

Lips juicy, eyes glowing, and the plan was rolling as you stood inside the bathroom, grinning at yourself in the mirror, hands virtually rubbing against each other while physically they were wrapping your damp skin with the towel.

Hidden behind a corner like a predator about to attack its prey, you waited to hear Johnny's steps coming towards the bedrooms. A little noise, calm and deep, arrived to your ears first. One step forward and the collusion was perfect.

"Oh, sorry!" you bumped into him, the fabric shifting on your breasts, your fingers prudishly trying to cover yourself and - oops - failing. With hands pressed on your chest, the swell of it was even more visible now, the last drops of water shining on the skin and falling slowly inside the cleavage.

Johnny remained silent, not even a tiny ‘sorry’ escaping his lips, his eyes completely trained on your body. Then, when you were already tasting the victory on your tongue, he suddenly looked behind you as if not wanting to look anymore.

You shifted your weight from one foot to another, waiting for a more grand reaction but Johnny kept on a composed face.

After a few seconds of silence, you were about to leave, lower lip between your teeth as your plan didn't make him go rogue.

But then he whispered something under his breath and when you least expected it, he pushed you against the wall. The air got knocked out of your lungs making you breathless. "You like dangerous games?"

His tone was delicious, lips so close to yours, and you absolutely wanted to drink it all in. And he was right. You did like dangerous games and you also liked to win.

"Yeah. And revenge as well." You finally smiled as one of your fingers slowly dragged on his chest, smoothing the creases of his white t-shirt. "Am I making you feel some type of way, John?"

The man scoffed, staring you down. "Not really."

"You can't even look at me in the eyes though.”

"Eyes? Something else requires my attention now, baby girl."

The instant delicious burst of pleasure of his hands cupping your now nude breasts and his thumbs circling your hard nipples made your knees buckle. The towel, slowly falling until stopping around your waist, was dangerously close to getting to your feet if Johnny's hips weren't pressed against yours.

One step back and you'd be naked in front of him and that wasn't your plan at all.

No, no, wait. You were supposed to make him feel things, not the contrary.

Then why were you letting him touch you like that?

"Are you sure you're doing this for me and not for yourself?" Johnny smiled at your light panting and twitching fingers, pressed on his arms.

"Enough," you whined, mind already blurry, so close to beg him to take you like that against that same wall.

Johnny stopped and took a step back, his hands quickly going to your hips preventing the towel from falling any further.

"I don't have to say it since it's obvious. But I've won. Again."

You pulled the white fluffy fabric from his fingers with a huff and stormed into your room, the echo of Johnny's chuckle ringing in the whole corridor.

_____

Disastrous.

You couldn't believe that you got that hot and bothered when Johnny should have been the one salivating and losing his mind inside his room.

Throwing away the towel you looked around for your clothes when a buzz from the bed made your head turn.

"Are you touching yourself?" read Johnny's text. You snorted. Unbelievable.

You weren't going to touch yourself. No, sir. You already lost a second time. You weren't about to give Johnny that satisfaction as well.

From You: and if I were?

From Johnny: thinking about me?

From You: you wish.

You laid down, face illuminated from the phone and fingers hovering over the screen, somewhat invested in the conversation. But just a little.

From Johnny: come on. do it.

You rolled your eyes amused and changed his display name.

From You: you first

From Evil dick: hm, I love winning though.

From You: you talk a lot for someone that's fucking his fist right now :)

From Evil dick: is this what you're imagining?

From You: yeah

Johnny read the text and didn't reply anymore. You could not prove that he was taking care of his stiffy but the thought of him doing so made you feel triumphant. Perhaps it wasn't a full win but you could give yourself half a point. Only half.

Because when you put your phone down, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding between your legs either.

_____

You needed at least one win.

Just once, only once, you wanted to see Johnny's honey eyes tremble under your touch.

And the corridor was your arena apparently since the next day another opportunity arose. Short and quick.

You smiled at him exiting his room and he smiled back. His lips were about to part and probably ask if you enjoyed yourself the previous night but no sound came out of them as your fingertip gently caressed his chest. It was barely there, a slight touch going slowly down.

His jaw muscles tightened when you reached his pants and he jolted when you pulled his belt towards you.

"It was a little crooked," you feigned innocence, your knuckles definitely brushing something that made him inhale silently.

"I'm making breakfast." You smiled and walked around him, leaving Johnny alone in the middle of the corridor just like he did the day before.

_____ “That’s not a win.”

You threw your head back on the couch arm, looking at Johnny upside down, the popcorn kernel you were currently about to eat stopped against your lips.

“That was a win,” you replied.

The man put his hands on his hips. “You just touched my belt.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently that’s enough for you to cum, baby boy.”

Johnny’s cheeks rose in a tight smile as you licked the salt and butter from your fingers. The look in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you and you loved it. His gaze caressed your face and open lips, then your exposed throat and low cut t-shirt. You knew he loved that angle. Could you possibly get two wins on the same day?

“Want some popcorn?” you asked, handing him one kernel. Johnny put his hands on the couch’s arm, bending his frame down and taking it with his teeth. You looked away nonchalantly as his lips touched your fingers, and you grabbed another kernel for yourself.

But Johnny was quicker.

One hand on your jaw, pushing your head back even more, he took it from between your lips in a spiderman kiss.

You couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, mouth open and skin burning from where his lips touched it.

When you locked eyes again, you noticed him munching with a little smile. Still hovering over you, a few strands of hair covering his eyes, he swallowed and whispered.

“I win.”

_____

“Oh, no, I’m not drinking.”

Taeyong looked at you with the cocktail glass in his hand as if you grew two heads. “Y/N not drinking?”

“I can’t drink. I’m on duty.”

You were still sitting on the couch in a ball, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated eyes.

Taeyong took a sip from his drink then shrugged and took a sip from the one he prepared for you too.

“On duty for what?” he plopped near you making you wobble slightly to the side.

“War.”

“On Johnny?” Your head snapped towards his innocent eyes. “You know about it?”

The boy chuckled. “Want me to give you a few tips?”

He smacked his lips and shifted his weight to be more comfortable, his lids dropping as if about to share some juicy secrets.

You imitated his position and leaned in to hear better.

“Make him jealous with me.” You blinked in silence a few times then sighed, pushing Taeyong away. “Are you trying to get between my legs too, now?”

The other continued chuckling. “It was worth the shot. You can try stuff like touching him randomly, then.” You huffed. “You think I’m a newbie?”

Taeyong sipped from both of his drinks again. “Then what about making him believe he got you so you can attack when he feels powerful?”

_____

"Oh, no. I have flour on my clothes."

The dough you were working was still sticky so you got a handful of flour that accidentally went on your bottoms right when Johnny made his appearance in the kitchen.

He looked down and, indeed, noticed a light layer of dust covering your black leggings.

“Could you please clean them up for me? These are my favourites,” you pouted at him.

Johnny smiled and sighed, getting closer and slapping your butt once, then twice, then again, until all the flour was cleaned up.

"There's no reason to be this aggressive, you know?” you bit your lower lip.

"But you like it this way. Don't you?"

Another spank and you mewled, the sound making Johnny hum in appreciation.

“You’re all clean now.” He stepped back and presumably stared at your ass with the excuse of checking for some more flour.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you whispered and almost regretted - key word ‘almost’ - saying it as your flatmate approached you again, his sudden dark aura making your skin crawl.

“You want me to continue?” his voice caressed your ear, his tone highly amused.

You acted as if gathering the courage to confess that, yes, you wanted him to spank you but, oh no, you were so shy and he was so strong, you couldn’t do it like that and in public!!? oh no, you couldn’t take it.

“N-no, it’s better if we stop here. I- I don’t think I can handle it. It will make me go crazy.”

Even if not seeing him in the face, you could almost physically sense Johnny’s puzzled aura. Laughing to yourself you wondered what kind of reaction he would come up with this time.

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and when you were about to turn your head to check on him, you felt his chest on your back and he engulfed your body with his arms as he pressed his hands on the counter in front of you.

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m giving this one to you.”

_____

From Evil Dick: I can hear your vibrator from the kitchen

From You: I’m not using any vibrator right now From You: maybe it’s taeyong lol

From Evil Dick: lol From Evil Dick: it’s definitely coming from your room tho

From You: you’re imagining things you wish were true

From Evil Dick: I don’t imagine you getting off on vibrators From Evil Dick: I like to be included in my fantasies :)

You: typing You: deleting You: typing You: deleting

From You: fuck you

From Evil Dick: fuck me yourself From Evil Dick: 4-2 for me

Johnny smiled brightly when you barged into his room.

He was laying down in the dark, with only the phone illuminating his face.

“Are you already done?” he asked teasingly.

You stopped at the feet of his bed with crossed arms.

“I’m here to fuck,” you announced.

Johnny remained with his mouth open as his brain processed the information then laughed.

“I don’t think you will,” he sat up, resting his back on the bed frame. The movement lifted his t-shirt a little, exposing the waistband of his boxers above the sweatpants and his lower stomach skin.

You didn’t add anything and got on your knees on the bed instead, slowly crawling towards him until getting between his legs. Then you sat on your heels and took away your shirt.

Johnny followed your frame and his eyes grew wide seeing you naked underneath the falling fabric. You smiled and his loss of words and you imitated his position, sitting in front of him and opening your legs to drape over his.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he whispered, eyes trained to where you slowly dragged your fingers.

Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes and threw your head back, gently drawing circles around your clit before pushing two fingers inside of you.

“Shit,” Johnny repeated and you whined, the wet sound telling him how you felt.

“I didn’t say I’m here to fuck you. You can’t touch me nor can you touch yourself. If you do, you lose,” you instructed breathless and Johnny dug his fingers in the mattress underneath him.

You smiled and bit your lower lip, fully enjoying his expression, his eyes looking as if drinking you in and were making you go crazy.

But then he smiled too and it threw you off.

In a second his hands were on your thighs as he pulled you towards him from underneath your knees until reaching the hand between your legs. He grabbed your wrists and blocked them in an iron grip.

“You can’t touch yourself either.”

You were breathing heavily, naked and so close to Johnny that you could almost feel the warmth of his body on your skin.

“What’s with that face, baby girl? You wanted to cum?” he cooed at you.

You bit your lower lip and shook your head.

Johnny pouted. “Hm, baby girl can’t even lie well. Are you sure you don’t want to feel my fingers inside of you?”

You closed your eyes. “I don’t.”

The other pulled you towards him by the wrists again until being able to whisper on your lips.

“What about my tongue?”

“Fuck, John, plea-” you interrupted yourself.

Johnny smirked. “What was that? Please?”

You shook your head again. “No.”

“I definitely heard you say please just now.”

Panting and on the edge you considered just not caring about anything and fuck that man on the spot.

“Truce,” you whispered. Johnny tilted his head to the side.

“It’s not over and no one wins or loses this time,” you explained.

“That’s convenient for you,” he teased.

You huffed and fully sat on his lap, rolling your hips once on his hard cock.

“I think it’s convenient for you too,” you commented after Johnny’s trembling sigh.

His eyes grew darker and his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you on himself even harder. Your arms wrapped his neck and you hid your face into the crook of it, trying to conceal your whimpers.

The rough material of his sweatpants did wonders to your sensitive clit and you didn’t need a lot to start shaking in Johnny’s arms. Your hips stopped as you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders but his hands on your waist forced you to go on. The overstimulation felt delicious and you didn’t care what words you mumbled into his ear, jolting every time his cock rubbed on your raw clit again and again. A few deep grunts and Johnny’s erratic movements told you that he was close too. You kissed his jaw then the skin next to it, then the corner of his lips, breathing in the air he breathed out then moaning once as he took his cock out and pumped it in his hand, spurts of warm cum coating your lower stomach. You looked down at the way it dripped between your legs and felt dizzy from pleasure. Johnny read your mind and quickly collected the drops fallen on your clit, drawing circles around it quicker and quicker until he had you shaking for the second time, head fallen on his shoulder and teeth digging into his neck skin.

You remained like that, breathless and fucked out until you finally could manage to raise your head again. “This never happened,” you whispered and Johnny nodded amused.

_____

You yelped as Johnny’s wide palm slapped your butt unannounced. "John! I'm near the stove!"

"Good morning," he smiled sweetly as he retrieved two coffee mugs from the cupboard.

"What if I burnt myself?" you accused him even if you both knew it was highly improbable.

"I would have kissed the bruise until the pain disappeared," he placed the mugs down and walked around you, positioning himself behind you and trapping you with his arms. One hand turned the stove off and the other danced on your stomach pulling you against him.

"When will you stop?" you tried to steady your voice since your ass rubbing on your roommate's crotch wasn't exactly calming.

"When you'll beg," he whispered in your ear with his playful tone. "But I'm not trying to do anything now. You were so caught up into staring at me that you didn't notice the eggs and I'm here to save them."

You put your tongue inside your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. Johnny breathed in as if trying to add something else but the sound of a voice made you both jolt.

"What are you guys doing so early in the morning?"

You almost forgot you had other roommates besides your sworn enemy poking at your back with his cock.

"Teaching Y/N how to make good eggs."

Taeyong raised one eyebrow at the scene in front of himself. "Yeah. Adding a sausage does make your eggs taste better."

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning around and pushing a chuckling Johnny away.

"Do you want to know my recipe?" Taeyong raised his voice since you were already leaving the kitchen.

"Two sausages--," then a smack and a fit of laughter as Taeyong promptly apologized for even daring to assume he could add himself into the equation.

“Come on. I thought you were in a good mood this morning by the looks of that bright red hickey.”

“Yes and I don’t share what’s mine.” You almost stumbled on our own feet in the corridor.

"I'm out of town this weekend, by the way. If you want to go all out…" was the last thing you heard and the one giving you the best idea for your new plan.

_____

It was almost two in the morning and Johnny was nowhere to be seen.

You rolled over on the bed with a huff then kicked the blanket staring at the lingerie you were wearing with sudden disgust.

It was the weekend and the house was empty - the perfect occasion for you to play with Johnny. And where was he? Probably fucking somebody else.

You were sick with anger.

Getting out of the bed - his bed where you waited for him - you stripped out of the sexy lace and grabbed the first t-shirt you found. It was one of his and even though it was clean, it still smelled like Johnny.

You got back under the covers and crossed your arms on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.

It wasn’t jealousy. You didn’t care if Johnny fucked other people. It’s not like you even fucked properly in the first place. You were just irritated that your plan didn’t work as you wanted it to.

With an argh you turned on your side and hugged the other pillow, Johnny’s scent engulfing you all again.

God, he made you so mad.

_____

The first thing you realized as you woke up was the fact that your room didn’t have a black accent wall.

The second one was Johnny’s arms around you - one behind your head and the other one thrown around your waist.

You were sleeping on your back, one hand placed on top of his and the other one on the veiny forearm. With one finger you followed one of them until reaching the bicep then you slowly turned your head to look at him in the face.

He didn’t close the blinds when he came home last night so the sun was shining brightly behind him, making him look like an angel.

You smiled for a moment, staring at his calm expression and listening to his regular breath before widening your eyes in horror and snapping out of your sweet thoughts.

What was that?

You didn’t care about John Suh and you definitely didn’t care about the way his caramel hair was draping on his forehead.

“Mm,” his raspy voice accompanied his strong arms pulling you towards him as you tried to slip out of the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, eyes still closed and very much half asleep.

You sighed and relaxed on your back again without a word and when Johnny rolled you over to face him you didn’t resist it.

“Did you sleep well?” “Where have you been?” you spoke on top of him.

The words, or maybe your tone, made Johnny’s eyes open in an instant.

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were low on his chest instead. He raised one hand to cup your cheek with the intent to make you look at him but you flinched.

“What’s going on?” he questioned.

You sighed again and shook your head. “Nothing. I’ll make breakfast.”

As you tried to get out of the bed again, Johnny’s arms didn’t want to leave your body. “Y/N. Wait. Stay.”

His hand got to your face a second time and this time you locked eyes with him.

“I was out. Like most weekends,” he explained.

You gulped and nodded. “Good.”

“No, it’s not good. You don’t seem to like that.”

You didn’t add anything, neither denying nor confirming it.

Johnny’s eyebrows met in the middle. “You’ve never had a problem with that.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you finally managed to get out of bed and Johnny let you go this time.

“I didn’t fuck anyone, if you’re wondering,” you heard him say as you walked the few steps towards the door.

“I don’t care if you fuck people, Johnny.”

“You do.”

Your feet stopped in place. “I don’t.”

“You’ve just made the same expression you put on when you claim that you don’t want me to touch you and we both know that’s a lie.” His voice was calm but stern. “Just admit it.”

You just resumed walking and exited the room.

_____

It was weird and not something familiar to your gut, but every time you saw Johnny, you felt the urge to either kiss his lips, cry on the floor, punch his face or run away.

The first was understandable, even if weird; the second one was absolutely weird and you had no idea what the fuck was going on with you; the third was also highly understandable.

But it was the last one that you chose.

So when Johnny entered the kitchen you got out. When he opened the door to his bedroom you closed yours. When he sat on the couch, you got up.

Until he couldn’t take it anymore and barged into your room unannounced.

“Hey! Knocking maybe?”

You were on the bed, scrolling through your phone and looking absolutely impresentable.

“Talk to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play right now, John.”

He walked over and sat on your bed.

“I don’t want to play. You’re avoiding me.”

“Look, it was fun for a while, but I don’t feel like continuing the little game we had going on. Let’s go back to how it was before.” Y

ou hoped you sounded convincing to him because you didn’t sound convincing to your own ears.

Your words did make Johnny put on a sour expression though and you pretended to not notice.

“Okay,” he said after a moment and you retrieved your phone from the bed, expecting the conversation to be over.

Yet, when he placed his palm on your thigh your hand stopped in mid-air.

“What are you doing?”

He looked down to where his finger slowly caressed your skin, creating little goosebumps all over it. Then Johnny looked up and whatever expression you had on, it was enough for him as he suddenly got up and left the room.

_____

“Brr, this house is colder than the heart of my elementary crush after he refused to share his food with me.”

Both you and Johnny ignored Taeyong’s words, busy rolling your peas into your own plates.

“What happened while I was away?”

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled.

“Hm,” the boy commented, munching on his food. “Wait,” he stopped, struck by realization, “ you mean like - nothing - happened? This is why you’re both mad? You didn’t fuck?”

You rolled your eyes and got up with the plate in your hands.

“She’s mad because she doesn’t want to admit that she has feelings for me.”

The bomb that Johnny threw made both Taeyong and you shake in your places.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t have feelings for you.”

Johnny calmly put down his fork and looked up at you.

“Well, I do.”

You opened your mouth in a silent shock while Taeyong initially gasped then soon after shrugged, whispering under his breath. “I mean, it was kinda obvious in his case.”

“And I don’t like the fact that you think I have space in my mind for other people besides you,” he continued. “Because it’s not true.”

“Woah,” Taeyong rested his back on the chair as if watching a soap opera.

“Did you really have to do this in the living room at dinner time?” you asked him after a few seconds of opening and closing your mouth like a fish.

“Oh?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “You want to take this to the bedroom instead? Let’s go,” he got up suddenly.

“Aw, guys, come on. You always hide the funniest stuff from me!” whined Taeyong seeing you leave.

“You know what I mean!” you replied to Johnny but still followed his quickly moving frame inside his room. He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms on his chest as if waiting for you to talk.

“What?” you imitated his position.

“Say something?”

“I don’t know what to say! What does one say after all of that?” you questioned.

“Do something? I just said I am in love with-”

In the end you did something and that something was wrapping his neck with your arms and kissing him deeply.

Johnny remained still for a moment as if shocked before finally relaxing his arms and tightly pulling your body towards his.

Your mind was empty and you had no idea what was going on but after a few seconds of tasting Johnny’s tongue you were already thrown on the bed. It creaked under Johnny’s force and you jolted at the way he dragged your pajama pants down. No sexy outfit and no lace lingerie to meet his eyes, yet they were full of such intensity and lust that you realized it didn’t matter at all. Hands in his hair, you raised your bust to connect your lips again.

“I was so fucking mad you weren’t home that night. I thought I was about to go crazy,” you breathed out while Johnny was palming your torso, lifting up your t-shirt and cupping your breasts.

“I know. Punish me then. Show me your anger,” he joked. But his reply turned a switch into your body and you managed to push his chest away from you. He smiled at your reaction and rolled over on his back, letting you straddle his lap.

“I’m going to tease you so much until you’ll be the one begging me to touch you.”

Johnny caressed your thighs. “Hm. I don’t need any teasing. You’re breaking me with your mere presence. Please, please, touch me.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you couldn’t see anymore. The grunts leaving Johnny’s throat as you bit into his neck were so hot that you wondered what stopped you from letting yourself hear them before. And when you moved to his chest, then stomach, littering his skin with love bites his muscles twitched under your touch.

You had no words to describe how it felt to have him inside your mouth. Heavy, hot and so present, you choked only on a third of it.

“Shit,” you mumbled, taking it out and pumping it instead with your hand.

Johnny loved it anyways and he looked at you with such intensity that you wondered if you could make him cum with only a few kitty licks.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” he breathed out.

“It’s alright. I know I have a monster cock and you don’t have to suck on it if you can’t handle being deepthroated,” you mocked him trying to imitate his tone. “Well, I want to and I will.”

And so you listened to Johnny’s airy chuckle, broken by the feeling of your mouth on him again, this time deeper than before.

“You love a challenge, huh?”

You would have said that, yes, you loved it and you loved to win, if it weren’t for his cock sliding down your throat making it difficult to talk.

“Fuck, baby, that’s- oh shit-,” he grabbed your head as you bobbed your head up and down a few times before you couldn’t take it anymore and let it out with a lewd plop.

“Baby?” you raised one eyebrow at him.

“You don’t like it?”

“Do I look like a baby to you?” you smiled with wet lips, your hand restlessly pumping his cock hard and fast.

Johnny grunted again, his hips rising to meet your touch even more.

“Hm, no, you look like a little slut right now,” he agreed with a smirk before his expression changed again into, you realized in that moment, the best view you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Head thrown back and completely at your mercy, Johnny came hard, his whole body twitching as his cum spurted on your hand and face.

“I think I won this time,” you pumped him a few more times before letting him go. “Hm, you drink so much coffee,” you smacked your lips after licking his cum off your fingers.

“This wasn’t part of the game.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve just decided that it was,” you shrugged.

Johnny grabbed his discarded t-shirt and cleaned his stomach. “So, are we playing now?”

His tone got dangerous and his expression made your wet pussy even drippier but you had no time to worry or form a single thought about it since you suddenly found yourself with the face on the mattress instead.

You turned your head sideways to be able to breathe and Johnny’s hands didn’t even try to be gentle when they pulled your panties down.

The loud smack arrived before the sensation of his big palm on your asschecks could. When you finally felt the burning sensation, another slap added to that.

Your fingers grabbed Johnny’s blanket, preparing yourself for the third spank, absolutely not expecting his tongue inside of you instead.

“Fuckfuckfuck-” you mewled but your sounds only made Johnny more ferocious, hands opening you up, eating you out as if he’d been dying to do so for a long time. And it was true for yourself too, but no imagination of yours could have realistically portrayed the way he was making you feel and no fingers of yours could reach as deep as his did, fingering you fast, tongue not stopping for a second, not even when you violently went over the edge with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard yourself emit.

“You win, you win-,” your rough throat tried to stop him from torturing your overstimulated clit and you heard him suck on his fingers after he let you go.

“Okay, I’ll take it. But this is just the beginning. Are you going to let me fuck you, baby?” he caressed your ass, going down to your waist and cupping your breasts.

The movement made his cock poke at your entrance and you imperceptibly opened your legs even more.

“Yes, please,” you whispered back, turning your head to meet his lips as he lifted your chin.

“Hm? Say that again?”

“Please.”

His tip easily slipped inside but the stretch still made you hiss through your teeth. Johnny shushed you, kissing your shoulder and neck until he bottomed out. “You can handle it, right baby?” You tried to nod but his first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and you let your head fall down again with a whine.

Johnny moved again and again then stopped with a grunt. “Beg a little for me again.”

You bit your lower lip, his tip pressing right when you needed it to and you wanted him to do it non stop.

“I don’t think I will beg again,” you whispered with a smile and started to move your hips instead. It was a sloppy and slow job, nowhere sharp and quick as Johnny’s, but you had to win again.

The man let your ass bounce on his stomach a few times, staring at the way you were stretched around him then he grabbed your waist and left you all empty.

You whined, clenching yet nothing being inside of you anymore.

“I said beg.”

His breath was now on your spine, his wet mouth placing kisses on your skin, making it shiver and taking some of it in his teeth, sucking on it until he was satisfied.

But you remained silent and he clicked his tongue at your stubbornness. In a single go he filled you up again and this time he never stopped.

He was breaking you in half and if you hadn’t already had tears in your eyes, this would have been the time to start crying from pleasure.

“Holy fucking shit--John-” you cried out, breath rhytmically broken by his deep thrusts and when he added his slaps again, you just lost it all, cumming so hard that the neighbors were probably ready to call an ambulance.

Johnny stopped balls deep inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around him. And when you thought it was over, when you barely started to hear again, he moved as hard as before, shushing you and pressing his fingers roughly into your skin.

“You can handle another round, right baby? You’re such a pretty little slut with a bigger attitude than she can carry. This is nothing for you.”

Fucked dumb, you could only nod and Johnny started to lose control himself, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, some drops falling from his collabones to his chest. And when you felt his cum spurt inside of you, you finally begged, repeating it again and again. Johnny didn’t stop and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day when your muscles contracted for the nth time in so little time, collapsing completely after Johnny slowly slipped out of you.

His breath felt wet and boiling on your face when he dropped beside you.

He swallowed a few times trying to catch his breath. “Fucking finally. I knew it was going to be epic. Why did you refuse me for so long? Look what you missed.”

You would have snorted if you had the force so you resorted to just let out a whine. “I refused so I couldn’t see this. I have a big attitude? Well, you have the biggest ego in the world.”

Johnny turned his head towards you. “And cock.”

You rolled your eyes and accepted his hands pulling you towards his chest.

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead. “And you love it.” “No,” you denied it, “butIloveyou,” you added quickly.

Johnny shook your body in a hug. “Hm?? Say that again.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

That grown man pouted at you making his eyes wide and glossy. “Please?”

“Whoa,” you smiled, “are you acting cute at me right now? After killing me with your monster cock?”

Johnny nodded cutely and repeated the plea.

“Okay, okay. I-- love you.”

He chuckled happily and tightened his arms around you again, squeezing you in an almost mortal hug.

“Again.”

You sighed realizing that you were suddenly dealing with a child.

“I love you.”

And you repeated it again and again until you were sure that he finally fell asleep.

With one hand to caress his face you finally indulged in staring at him, fully realizing what that weird sensation in your gut was.

“I really love you.”

Your whisper was tiny and barely audible but Johnny smiled.

“I know. And I love you too.”

#johnny #johnny suh #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct johnny smut #johnny scenarios #nct scenarios #taeyong #taeyong smut

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asweetprologue · 3 years

Note

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it and/or friends with benefits falling in love <3 geraskier or jaskier/other wolf if you'd like a challenge

I got #2 twice, so I decided to combo these for you and @a-kind-of-merry-war. Hope you guys like soft af smut!!

Explicit below the cut!

36. Friends with benefits and both people catching feelings AND

2. Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it

Geralt freezes as soon as he steps into their shared room. He opens his mouth and closes it a few times, and then says, “Is that mine?”

Jaskier looks up from his seated position on the bed, propped up by the flimsy pillow the inn had provided, folded in half. He freezes himself, his pen poised above the page of his notebook, and looks between it and Geralt a few times. “What? The book?”

Geralt shakes his head as he steps into the room, allowing the door to fall shut behind him. Jaskier feels something hot unfurl in his gut at the dark look in Geralt’s eyes. It’s a look he’s gotten to know quite well recently, and it’s usually a precursor to good things. Geralt steps up to the bed and sets one knee beside him, and Jaskier’s heart rate spikes embarrassingly.

Geralt reaches out two fingers and slips them under the hem of the shirt Jaskier’s wearing. The dark fabric is soft with age, billowing around Jaskier’s form and falling loose about his shoulders. “My shirt,” Geralt says, and his voice is warm with something that Jaskier can’t identify.

Jaskier shivers. “Sorry,” he stutters, setting his notebook aside on the frail bedside table. “I, uh, my shirts are all in the wash, I can change into something else--”

Geralt pushes forward, his nose suddenly tucked into the hollow of Jaskier’s throat, where the collar of the shirt meets his skin. “Mm,” Geralt says, “don’t. You smell good. Fuck.” And then he bites lightly at Jaskier’s collarbone, and Jaskier is suddenly desperate to get the shirt off for a whole different reason.

They’ve been doing this for a while now.

Jaskier isn’t even sure anymore how it started. One moment you’re pining desperately after your best friend, and the next you’re - well, still pining, if he’s being honest. But now he’s pining while also having the best sex of his life on a regular basis. He’s not sure if it’s better.

It’s hard, is the thing. To sleep with your best friend, in the first place, much less sleep with your best friend who you’ve been in love with for the last ten odd years. Jaskier has to stop himself from reading into things, from seeing layers that aren’t there. When Geralt wraps his arm around Jaskier after they’ve finished, snuffling sleepily into his hair, or when he presses tender kisses to the bruises he left the night before, or when he looks at Jaskier across the campfire with something soft and burning in his eyes - none of it means anything. Geralt cares about him, Jaskier knows this, but they’re just friends who fuck each other sometimes. If Geralt had wanted more, he would have said, oh, anytime in the last decade and a half. Jaskier refuses to make a fool of himself believing otherwise.

But it’s hard. He wants Geralt constantly, a feeling that has only grown worse with each encounter, but every quick fuck just leaves him feeling achy and empty inside, no matter how blissfully good it is in the moment. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t even care about the sex that much. It’s amazing - of course it’s amazing, Geralt is practically a god, and he’s got stamina - but Jaskier would trade it in an instant just for the knowledge that his feelings are even partially returned. Being so close to having what he wants, sharing intimate moments when their bodies are pressed tight together and singing with pleasure, only brings what he lacks into sharp relief.

Like now, with Geralt pushing him back into the shitty pillow and straddling his hips, dragging his unfairly large hands up Jaskier’s sides as he moves in to kiss him. Jaskier meets him halfway, immediately letting Geralt lick into his mouth and turn the kiss into something wet and needy. Geralt pulls away after not nearly long enough and starts biting kisses down Jaskier’s throat, sucking hard enough at one point that Jaskier can’t help how his hips thrust up against Geralt’s ass. Geralt makes a pleased sound against his jaw, a low rumble that has Jaskier squirming.

“Come on,” he pants, turning his head to try and recapture Geralt’s mouth. Geralt is uncooperative, so it lands somewhere near his temple instead. He’s still tucked into Jaskier’s shoulder, and Jaskier can feel him inhale deeply. “Are you-- Are you smelling me?”

Geralt hums an affirmative, taking another drag. Jaskier just blinks up at the timber ceiling of the inn, floored. After a moment Geralt says, “You smell good.”

Jaskier doesn’t know what to say to that, and Geralt doesn’t give him time to think about it. He pulls back, finally, and uses the hands still tucked under the shirt to ruck it up, his mouth falling on Jaskier’s left pectoral. Jaskier grabs the hem, fully intending to lift it over his head while Geralt is distracted, but a hand on his wrist stops him. He looks down to find Geralt watching him with sharp eyes, pupils blown wide. “Leave it on,” Geralt says, and Jaskier shudders at the heat in his tone. He drops the edge of the shirt, and Geralt goes back to work.

Usually when they do this, Jaskier makes an effort to stay in control. It’s not that he’s dominating by nature, though he doesn’t mind taking charge once in a while if his partner is interested in that. He just can’t handle it when Geralt turns his full attention to pleasuring him. It’s much easier to keep his feelings in check when he’s fully focused on Geralt’s pleasure. He can work his tender affections into the press of his lips and fingers easily, hide all the words he so desperately wants to say in the touch of skin on skin. It’s enough, he tells himself, to make Geralt feel good for once. And if he’s focused on how good Geralt feels, he doesn’t have to think about how much he wants Geralt to touch him tenderly in return.

This time, though, Geralt seems intent on making Jaskier writhe underneath him, and it’s immediately too much and not enough at once. Geralt takes his nipple into his mouth and sucks, and then laves his tongue over the bud until Jaskier is gasping. Once he seems satisfied with the left, he moves on to the other and gives it the same treatment, leaving love bites around the dusky skin before flicking his tongue over Jaskier’s nipple repeatedly. “Shit,” Jaskier says, throwing his head back as Geralt blows a stream of cool air over the sensitive skin. He feels hot and overwhelmed already, his cock straining in his trousers.

Geralt is soft and warm above him, nosing down the flat plane of Jaskier’s stomach, pressing tender kisses into his skin. He glances up when Jaskier speaks, and his eyes are soft too, the evening light streaming in through the lone window catching on the slim ring of gold around his pupils. He’s looking at Jaskier as if he cares, and his fingers are gentle when he reaches down to unbutton Jaskier’s pants. It’s too close, too much, but Jaskier doesn’t know how to change the pace, doesn’t know if he even wants to.

He drops his hands to Geralt’s shoulders as warm lips descend on his stomach, lifting his hips as Geralt pushes his trousers and braies down. Geralt leans back to pull them fully off, discarding them off the side of the bed. For a moment he just sits, looking over Jaskier spread out under him, and the warmth in his eyes makes Jaskier’s stomach go liquid with arousal even as anxiety furls in his chest. If Geralt keeps looking at him like that something is going to give. He can feel the words sitting like venom ready to spit on the back of his tongue, and he swallows them down before he tugs on Geralt’s shoulder to try and pull him back in. Maybe he can smother his selfish desires in Geralt’s mouth.

He shouldn’t want more. This should be enough.

But Geralt doesn’t meet him for the kiss, just shakes his head as he smooths a hand down Jaskier’s side and thumbs over the jut of his hip. He smiles, just a little, and his other hand moves to tug the shirt under Jaskier’s armpits back into place a bit. “I like you like this,” he says. Jaskier blinks at him.

“Like what?” he asks. He’s breathless, his cock arched up and smearing precome on his stomach, and Geralt is looking at him with something that seems part hunger and part fondness. He makes a last ditch effort, trying to turn things simple and dirty. He stretches out, knowing he must look obscene, and purrs, “Laid out for you? Ready for your cock?”

Geralt huffs a laugh - insulting, Jaskier thinks with a pout - and leans back in to press another kiss to Jaskier’s collarbone, this time just a faint brush of lips. “In my shirt,” he says simply, as if the words don’t wind their way immediately around Jaskier’s heart and squeeze. What does it mean? What could he possibly mean by that, it can’t be, he doesn’t--

Geralt is unaware of his spiralling, and after a moment it doesn’t matter, because Geralt is sliding his way back down Jaskier’s body and then Jaskier’s mind goes perfectly blank as Geralt’s mouth sinks down over his cock.

“Fuck,” Jaskier gasps, jerking at the sudden heat enveloping him. Two warm palms come up on either hip and hold him easily in place. Geralt hasn’t done this for him very often, and Jaskier had forgotten how overwhelming it is. There’s no hesitation in his movements, and all Jaskier can do is lie there and let it wash over him. He thrusts against Geralt’s hold as he bobs his head faster, tonguing Jaskier’s slit in a way that makes his eyes roll back. Shit but it’s good, and Geralt is so focused, Jaskier is losing his mind--

He’s looking down at where his dick is disappearing inside of Geralt’s stretched lips, and then Geralt lifts his mouth off of Jaskier’s cock, and their eyes meet. And he’s looking at Jaskier like he always does, with heat and affection and wonder, and Jaskier’s ears are roaring and his chest is bursting and his traitor mouth opens and he says, “Gods, I love you.”

Geralt’s eyes go wide, soft and shocked, and Jaskier immediately feels something cold wash over him. He can’t back out of this, he knows already. It was too earnest, too raw. If he’d said it when Geralt’s mouth had been on him maybe they could have dismissed it in the heat of passion, but he didn’t. Geralt is staring at him, mouth agape, lips still red from how they’d been stretched around Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier closes his eyes, not willing to look while Geralt gently turns him away.

But suddenly there are lips on his, and Jaskier opens his eyes with a gasp as Geralt plunders his mouth relentlessly. He kisses back - he’s powerless not to - and then Geralt is pulling away again, only to gasp out, “Do you? Do you mean it?”

Jaskier falls still for a moment, and Geralt meets his gaze as he waits for a response, clearly nervous. “I-- Of course I fucking mean it. Do you want me to mean it?” He feels like he’s going to shatter apart from how anxiety wars with hope in his chest, threatening to turn him into a wasteland. Geralt just reaches up a hand and slides it up Jaskier’s neck until he’s cradling his cheek.

“Yeah,” he says, and then presses a helpless kiss to Jaskier’s lips, painful and earnest. “Me too. Didn’t think you would feel the same.”

Jaskier pulls away again to stare Geralt in the face, shock a soft blow against his fragile heart. “I’ve loved you for years,” is all he can think to say.

Geralt makes a pained noise and then they’re kissing again, and this time they don’t stop. Geralt presses down until they’re one long line of heat, touching from shoulder to hip, legs slotted easily together. They rut against each other until Jaskier grows tired of the rough friction and reaches down to push Geralt’s trousers out of the way, taking them both in hand. Geralt’s hand doesn’t leave his face, and they don’t stop kissing, not until they’re both too worked up for anything more than panting against each other’s mouths.

Geralt slips his head down and presses his nose back to Jaskier’s jaw, breathing him in. “Smell so good,” he stutters out, “like me, like you’re mine, Jask, fuck I’m close--”

“Yeah, yes,” Jaskier says over him, canting his hips up as he moves his hand faster. “Love you, I love you, come on.”

Geralt goes still above him, a high whine leaving his throat as he grinds down into Jaskier’s hand, burying his face in the warmth of Jaskier’s shoulder, his spend coating Jaskier’s fingers and dripping onto his stomach. Jaskier works him until his shuddering stops, and then Geralt reaches down a hand to still him. Jaskier lets out a soft ah at the pause, but soon Geralt’s hand replaces his own and he’s thrusting wildly up into a familiar, calloused palm. Geralt shifts to the side slightly, and Jaskier turns his face to follow him, desperate to be as close as he can. “Geralt,” he begs, nearly a sob.

“I’ve got you,” Geralt promises, and that’s it, he’s done. He clenches his teeth as the first crest of pleasure overtakes him, and Geralt slowly wrings out everything he has until Jaskier collapses back into the mattress, gasping and oversensitive.

They lie there for a few moments, just catching their breath in the quiet room. It’s darker now, the sun beyond the little window finally conceding to the cool night. Deep purple shadows fill the valleys of Geralt’s body, and Jaskier unthinkingly reaches out to trace across the edge of one. He lets the simple sensation calm his racing heart enough to say, “We should probably talk about it.”

“Probably,” Geralt hums, and then he reaches out and hauls Jaskier to him, pressing their sweaty, come-sticky bodies together. Jaskier makes a face, and he feels Geralt’s laugh more than he hears it. “In the morning,” he says, and Jaskier sighs, letting himself relax into the embrace.

“Alright,” he agrees. “In the morning.”

He lets his eyes fluttering shut, his head falling to rest on Geralt’s shoulder, arm slung over his stomach. It’s peaceful, and Geralt is warm and firm in all the right places, and he’s nearly asleep when Geralt speaks again.

“Me too,” he murmurs into the dark, pressing the words into Jaskier’s skin like a kiss. “I love you too.”

Jaskier smiles, and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

#geraskier #geralt/jaskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #witcher #witcher fic #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #prompts #grey #merry

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