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hikariale · 3 months

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college has taken up the bulk of my time, so i don't know when or if i will ever write this fic idea in full, but the idea has been spinning in my head for a long time... it's written in a longform, train-of-thought, imagines way, but it got longer than expected!

mostly platonic liu kang and reader with some liutana and kitana x reader under the cut

Being friendly rivals with Liu Kang. You both want to see the other succeed, but you also compete to each other's betterment. Liu Kang may be the "Chosen One," but you won't allow yourself to be overlooked! It's not like you want to take his title, no, no, no! You want to prove to everybody, including him, that the idea of a "chosen one" is stupid. An idea that stemmed from observing him and realising how isolated he was because he was "chosen" by gods, you've taken it upon yourself to prove that burdens need not fall onto the shoulders of an exceptional, talented few. He always has his plate full, so why not steal something off of it. If you can't flip the table, you can at least make the meal more digestible. You hate to see a person forced to bite off more than they can chew, and Kung Lao is a good companion, but you get the feeling that the chip on his shoulder has put you on different trajectories when it comes to competing with Liu Kang.

Perhaps it is because of an upbringing that severely alienated him from his peers, but you realised early on that Liu Kang struggled to pursue relationships. Sincere as he is with others, he is more than content for others to approach him than the other way around. A little withdrawn and always somewhat preoccupied, the Chosen One is like a firefly. You have to catch it in your hands to halt it, but it rarely chooses to land on its own.

That's why, when Kitana entered the picture, you knew he was likely to doom himself.

You couldn't speak for him, but the Edenian princess blew you away at first sight. Though he didn't admit it, you knew she had the same affect on him. As easy as it would be to leave him to his in the dust before he realises that there's a race, you declare yourself his love rival and wait for him to make the first move as a courtesy. Regardless of how things turn out, you both promise to bow out and support the one who earns her affections.

It does hurt when Liu Kang, against what you always thought of him, catches Kitana's affections by a landslide. As unexpected as it is, you can at least commend him- and hey, he deserves that little bit of personal happiness with all the other things he deals with. And it's clear that Liu Kang can tell you're upset, but you're proud of him for not backing down or expressing remorse for your bruised heart.

At least it isn't as humiliating as you thought it might be. Liu Kang is a good person. He's considerate after the fact and gives the topic of romance a wide breadth when spending time with you. Things are mostly normal. Sure, the odd intrusive thought about the couple enters your head and sours your mood, but you just need time to move on. Maybe in a while, you'll find a new love. Maybe you'll commit to celibacy, or maybe something completely left field will happen. Though things would have normally gone like that, the strange, universe bending entity by the name of Kronika erases the future and all of its possibilities. In its place, she presents a bleak future where your loved ones are warmongers, and your only choice is to accept that you don't get a future at all.

As Charon's ships prepare to dock, Liu Kang tells you that you should tie up loose ends. You know what he means, and though it almost feels like an insult to have a newly born god tell you to fruitlessly profess your feelings for his partner, you know that he means well. You understand that this is probably the end even if the idea of dying hasn't crossed your mind. That intuition clears your mind and allows you to shed your inhibitions.

"I can see why Liu Kang holds you in such high regard. You have admirable character."

That was the only thing that stood out from Kitana's response. It didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. Being let down so gracefully by a woman of her standing is pretty much an honour. And the end is near. And you got to say your piece without committing any transgressions. So that's that, as far as you are concerned. You make sure to tell Liu Kang that much while standing at the entrance of Kronika's keep. The last exchange you have with Kitana is a quick glance while Liu Kang destroys the door. She catches it out of the corner of her eye, and though she doesn't turn towards you, she acknowledges you with an affirming nod.

When deciding how to craft the New Era, Liu Kang briefly considered making Kitana your destiny, and you hers. Earnestly wishing for your happiness in the next life, he thought of giving you everything that he was not afforded for his own love. Just as he began to spin that thread of fate, your defiant words rang in his ears.

"You shouldn't let the gods have that much say over you. If you say no, I'll be right there with you to back you up! Gods aren't the ones who have to suffer the consequences anyways."

Your judgement of the gods was a little off the mark, but the wholehearted belief in mortal agency struck Liu Kang's core. If you knew what he originally planned, he was sure you would complain about it, so he erased the sketch and started over.

In the New Era, you kept that attitude. Raiden didn't have the right personality to engage with your challenges. It made Liu Kang a little happy to know that, though he filled his old role with Raiden, you two didn't have the same bond. Of course, you weren't Liu Kang's rival this time. The ambivalent, borderline suspicious attitude you gave the God of Fire would have stung more if he wasn't expecting it.

During the banquet, your seat was up next to his. You poke at your food and watch Johnny flirt with the younger Edenian princess. The icy expression on your face makes Liu Kang thankful that he never tried courting Kitana in your presence during the previous era.

"It is not like you to be daunted by something like that," he breaks you out of your ruminations with subtle encouragement. Your shock transforms into mild agitation. As you consider telling him not to meddle in things he has no business in, he smiles, somewhat slyly, and says, "You are not the kind of person who leaves things unchallenged."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #kitana x reader #liutana #liu kang #mk1 #mk11 #ahhh alternatively.... kitana has two hands. but this idea and storyline is fun to explore #this is messy messy messy but i wanted to get it out of my head and put the idea out there #i dont know when i'll write a proper longform real fic though. i took two writing-heavy classes and two science lecture-lab courses...#this semester i'm even more busy busy busy HAHA

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undyingghoul · 1 year

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A Slap Is All It Took

Pairing: Ifrit x Mountain

Warnings: Slapping, Praise Kink, Pet Names, Clawing/Scratching, Blood Kink, Pain Kink, Degradation, Biting/Marking

Summary: It was an accident on Mountain’s part when he accidentally slapped Ifrit but he really didn’t expect Ifrit to like it and ask for more.

A/N: Thanking Octo anon from @iamthecomet for this one. How dare you put this into my head so much I made a fic over it (thank you for doing this I finally wrote something

It was roughly three hours after the concert had ended and everyone had gotten settled into their hotel rooms and eaten. As usual, everyone had to share a room except Terzo, he always got his own room and left his Ghouls to settle who they wanted to bunk with. Everyone picked who they wanted to bunk with and it was no surprise when Mountain and Ifrit had to bunk again since no one had picked them.

They didn’t mind it and it didn’t bother them as much as it once had. The times they spent together in their hotel room at the end of a concert helped them grow closer and even become friends. They were the odd pair out and they were just fine with it, too. While they had spent a considerable amount of time together and got to know each other, they didn’t always share everything. And that’s what led them to the current moment.

It wasn't like Mountain meant to slap Ifrit, it was anything but that. Ifrit just happened to be in Mountain's way when he spun around to grab something he needed. "Oh Satanas- I'm sorry, Ifrit! I didn't mean to slap you," Mountain apologized through his hands that had flown to his mouth.

Ifrit had his hand pressed to his cheek, his head turned away from Mountain. The fire Ghoul let out a shaky breath as he turned to look back at Mountain with wide eyes and blown pupils. "Do it again."

Mountain's hands dropped instantly. "I- Come again?" Mountain asked as his tail swayed side to side steadily behind him. Ifrit dropped his hand from his cheek and cleared his throat. "Hit me again. Please, Mountain-" He said, his fists grabbing at his jeans and claws digging into the material.

The earth Ghoul watched the fire Ghoul before him, studying him and watching him squirm in his seat. It nearly took his breath away to see just how much Ifrit wanted him to slap him again, the silent pleading done only with his eyes. Mountain stood up from of his seat at the hotel room’s desk and rolled his sleeves up, looking down at Ifrit who looked up at him panting gently. "You want me to slap you again?" He asked, giving Ifrit the chance to back out of this. Ifrit pushed his chair back and dropped to his knees in front of Mountain. "Yes- Just... Just hit me 'til I tell you to stop," He begged, putting his hands behind his back so nicely that it made Mountain have to take a deep breath and let it out as he raised his hand. The attempt to calm himself failed miserably. "Be a good boy now, Ifrit, and you'll get more than just a few slaps to the face."

Ifrit nodded quickly and Mountain moved his hand down and connected it with Ifrit’s cheek, his chest rising and falling faster from his quickening breath at the moan the fire Ghoul let out. Mountain did it again, this time soothing the red mark forming on Ifrit’s cheek by gently rubbing his hand over it. Ifrit leaned into his touch and when he watched Mountain’s hand raise again his tail shivered with excitement. Another moan spilled from his mouth as Mountain’s hand connected with his cheek once more, feeling the burn and sting as he let out heavy and ragged breaths. His pants felt too tight for him and the rest of his clothes felt too tight for him too–they created an awful sensation on his heated skin and moved wrong over his body. He let out a little whine and tried to ease the awful feeling of his clothes again him. Mountain noticed.

The earth Ghoul shook his hand out a bit, the palm of it bright red while his fingers were light pink. “Take them off,” He huffed, working already on stripping off his own clothing. Ifrit wasted no time and quickly shucked his clothes off, only rising to his feet to take his pants, boxers, and socks off before he fell back onto them with his hands behind his back again. He assumed that’s what he was supposed to do, at least, and he was wrong. After Mountain dropped his clothes into a pile with Ifrit’s he hauled him up onto his feet by his hair, making the fire Ghoul groan loudly and his cock twitch. He let Mountain drag him to the bed and toss him up onto it while he scrambled to get on his knees with his ass in the air and face pushed into the bed.

Mountain licked his teeth and came to kneel behind Ifrit. “You already knew the position. Such a good Ghoul for me, remembering everything I’ve taught you.” Ifrit’s breath hitched in his throat at the praise and grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets as he let out a small chitter in response. Mountain looked down and hummed a bit, moving his hands to hold Ifrit’s waist tightly. His claws cut into the fire Ghoul’s skin and drew blood. “You’ve already gotten yourself ready for me, I see. Did that while you showered before, didn’t you?” Mountain asked and Ifrit blushed madly. “Y-Yes, sir,” He squeaked and shut his eyes. Mountain rolled his shoulders back a bit and Ifrit knew what was coming. The earth Ghoul lined himself up before he sunk into Ifrit, a snarl leaving Mountain and a shaky moan leaving Ifrit. “F-Fuck, Mountain-” Ifrit hissed when Mountain paused to keep himself together. Ifrit whined and pushed down onto Mountain until he bottomed out. “Shit-” Mountain growled as he bent over Ifrit for a few moments and panted heavily.

Ifrit huffed more and more as he tried to move against Mountain but he was pinned in place by the Ghoul leaning over him. Mountain pulled out and snapped his hips back into Ifrit, snapping near Ifrit’s ear as a warning as his palm connected to his ass. The fire Ghoul let out a muffled sob as he buried his face into the bed. “Stay still for a few moments!” Mountain snapped and Ifrit listened, stilling himself and waiting for Mountain. The earth Ghoul took a few more moments to collect himself before starting to thrust into him at a rough, bruising pace. Ifrit’s claws dug into the bed and ripped through it, his tail moving to wrap around Mountain’s arm so tight it cut into the skin and made him bleed. Mountain moved a hand to the base of Ifrit’s neck and dug his claws into the skin enough that when he dragged his hand down his claws pierced the skin and made it bleed where he clawed him. Ifrit started to cry at the sensation, finding himself enjoying the pain and the feeling of the blood slowly running down his sides. “You like that don’t you, slut?” Mountain spat with no ill intent and Ifrit nodded quickly, vocalizing his answer with a moan. “Taking me so well like the fucking whore you are, Ifrit, you are my little whore,” Mountain snarled as he pulled Ifrit against his body by the horn. Ifrit mewled at the action and position change as Mountain hit a new spot that made him see stars. He started to beg Mountain over and over again to keep hitting that spot while Mountain wrapped an arm around Ifrit’s chest and continuously hit it.

Ifrit felt the tears stream down his face as the pleasure built up and the band in him stretched out further and further. He dug his claws into Mountain’s arm hard enough to draw even more blood from him, the scratches on his back still bleeding and smearing again Mountain’s chest. Mountain could feel the blood against his chest and on his arms and growled loudly, nuzzling his head against Ifrit’s neck before biting down in various spots hard enough to draw blood. The smell of it and the taste of it drove Mountain into a frenzy and he pulled Ifrit against him–breathing hard and so desperately chasing the release that he needed so badly. Ifrit could feel the press of Mountain’s knot and whimpered in need. Mountain’s tail came around and started to work Ifrit, listening to his moans and feeling the way his body shook in his hold and the way he smelled and the way his blood tasted and just everything was so so so good and still not enough and the way Ifrit clenched around Mountain’s cock as the fire Ghoul came all over his tail just broke everything inside of Mountain at that moment.

Mountain let out a muffled shout as he knotted Ifrit and came deep inside of him. He pressed himself into Ifrit and held him down against him as much as he could while hot and heavy ragged breaths left his mouth. Ifrit’s vision clouded and his head spun until he blacked out and went limp in Mountain’s arms. His tail uncoiled from his arm and revealed the slightly deep cuts it made in the skin as his hands fell from Mountain’s other arm and revealed the cuts his claws left. Mountain moved slowly and carefully as he laid down with Ifrit, letting himself come down from his high and holding Ifrit close while he was unconscious.

He pressed gentle kisses to Ifrit’s head and horns, whispering sweet nothings and praise to him as if he were still conscious. If Mountain was being honest he didn’t exactly know when Ifrit would come to again or how long it would take either. If he was being even more honest he’s never had this happen before but there’s always a first time for everything. Despite the warmth coming from the fire Ghoul Mountain still made an effort to cover them both and wait for Ifrit to gain consciousness again. He could feel the dried blood on his body when he moved and trilled quietly. All he could do was wait for Ifrit to wake up now and while he waited he decided to get some rest. He knew Ifrit would wake him and didn’t worry about it, letting himself drift off to sleep with the help of Ifrit’s warmth.

#ifrit x mountain #nameless ghoul mountain #nameless ghoul ifrit #mountain ghoul #ifrit ghoul #the band ghost #ghost band #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic

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petedavidsonscock · 11 months

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There’s four minutes left in the episode of 30 Rock when Holster’s hand, which had been resting on Ransom’s stomach, sneaks under the bottom of Ransom’s shirt, moving a little lower than it had been before. Ransom’s sitting between Holster’s legs, laptop in front of him. They're having a designated study break, because Ransom has a research paper due at midnight tomorrow, and he can’t afford to go fragile-intensive-obsessive-crashing the way he does if he lets himself work for twelve hours straight. So he takes breaks in the form of sitcom watching—“and cuddle time, bro”—every few hours. Now, he has to bite his lip when Holster’s hand starts messing with the waistband of his sweatpants. It’s been way too long—like four days—but he regretfully puts a hand over Holster’s to stop him.

“Bro,” Ransom says. “I can’t.”

“Because of the essay? C’mon, I’ll be quick.”

Ransom laughs. “Hot.”

“We were gonna watch another episode anyway,” Holster points out. “So we can like… instead.”

Ransom considers. His considerations are mostly: Holster’s hand, still on Ransom’s waistband, thumb stroking Ransom’s bare stomach; his warm, solid presence along Ransom’s back in the chilly air of the attic; the fact that Ransom hasn’t jerked off in two days; and Holster’s dick game, which is kind of incredible, fuck.

Then he thinks about the essay again. Fuck.

“‘Kay, how about this,” Holster says, pausing the episode. “Give me five minutes. If I can get you fully hard by then without touching your dick, then you, like, really need it, and we can fuck. If I can’t, no biggie, we’ll bang after you finish your paper.”

Then you, like, really need it, Ransom’s brain echoes in Holster’s voice. You really need it. You need it. He swallows.

Five minutes isn’t much time, he reasons. Holster can definitely turn him on in less than five minutes, but fully hard is a lot without actually touching him.

“And not,” Ransom says, voice a little raspy. He clears his throat. “Like, not some bullshit where you blow me but it doesn’t count because it’s not your hand. Or jerk me off through my sweats.”In the momentary silence, Ransom feels Holster grin.

But he promises, “No bullshit,” voice serious. He slips his hand under Ransom’s pants and pats his thigh, and Ransom says, “Wait, hold up.”

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens the timer app. His hand maybe shakes a little as he sets it to five minutes, but he manages to press ‘Start’ on his first attempt.

“Aand go,” he says, putting the phone on the floor next to the bed.

“‘Swawesome,” Holster says, kissing his neck lightly. Then he pulls his hand out of Ransom’s pants and grabs the laptop.

“Uh,” Ransom says, as Holster minimizes the video and opens a new tab. Even the way Holster is reaching around him, chin on Ransom’s shoulder to type enveloping him, is nice; could be kinda hot; but it’s not what Ransom was expecting. “Bro?”

Holster hums, then finishes typing the url.

Ohh. Okay.

“Unless you think this is cheating,” Holster says lightly, scrolling through the front page. He pauses over a video of a man blowing his partner in a club bathroom, then scrolls onwards.

“Nah,” Ransom manages. “That’s just making use of available resources.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

Ransom doesn’t watch a ton of porn. He’s never struggled to get laid, and when he’s going solo, he has a few choice memories to pick from that get him off without the risk of downloading a computer virus. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see the appeal.

Holster chooses a video promising public sex, which isn’t what Ransom usually goes for, but he can feel himself starting to get hard anyway. It’s the combination of anticipation, pent-up stress about his microbio class, and being a twenty-one-year-old guy. He knows Holster is going to touch him, but isn’t exactly sure how; he takes a slow breath in through his nose and tries to think about anything except the way Holster is wrapped around him.

Except that now that Holster’s picked a video, his hands are free to roam. He sets the laptop down, then leans back, tugging on Ransom until they're pressed even closer together than before. Ransom can feel Holster’s dick against his ass, not even half-hard but definitely getting there, and pushes down the urge to squirm against it. On screen, the two main actors are sitting at a table; as Ransom watches, one of them drops to his knees underneath it and crawls to kneel in front of the other.

Holster kisses the spot just behind Ransom’s ear and whispers, almost a confession, “I’ve been thinking about this.”

“Having sex in the middle of a restaurant?”

It’s clear that it’s someone’s living room, but they’ve at least made the effort of dragging in a couple tables and moving the television.

Holster hums the way he does when he’s trying to figure out how to express something complicated. Meanwhile, he slips one large, warm hand under Ransom’s shirt to run it up and down his flank, while the other one idly grasps the inside of his thigh and pushes Ransom’s legs open a little wider.

“Remember the kegster last weekend?” Holster asks finally, tone conversational but mouth hot and very close to Ransom’s ear. Ransom tries to suppress a shiver.

“Uh, yeah. What—” Ransom’s voice stutters as Holster bites his earlobe. “What about it?”

“That girl who came onto you while we were dancing.” In the video, one actor’s dick glides in and out of the other’s mouth. Ransom’s throat is crazy dry. “She thought we were just friends.”

“Yeah,” Ransom manages, and then Holster takes both hands off of him. Ransom whines, which makes Holster laugh, low and raspy, right in Ransom’s ear, which makes Ransom whine again, until Holster’s hands settle at Ransom’s waist.

“Lift your hips, baby,” he says, and Ransom does. Holster pushes his sweats and briefs over his hips, and Ransom gets them off his legs.

“Shit, Rans,” Holster says, almost reverently, “your thighs.” He runs his hands up and down them. Very carefully moves a hand into Ransom’s pubic hair, careful not to touch his dick; starts to leave a trail of sloppy kisses behind his jaw, open-mouthed and messy. As Holster trails his fingers through Ransom’s pubic hair, tugging lightly, just enough to be a contrast against the pleasure of the moment, Ransom has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from begging him to forget the game and just jerk him off. “What was I saying?”

“Girl.” Holster bites his neck, and Ransom ends up gasping out the word. “At the—kegster.”

“Right, yeah,” Holster says in his ‘horny but trying to focus’ voice. “Uh.” He adjusts himself, shifting a little closer where they’d drifted apart, and this time Ransom lets himself rub back against Holster’s dick. Holster groans, and Ransom does it more, until Holster grabs Ransom’s thighs firmly with each hand: immobilizing him, holding him close. “I wanted her to look at us and know. Wanted to drop to my knees and suck you off right there, so everyone would know.”

“Fuck,” Ransom groans.

“Would you let me?” It’s phrased like a question, but Holster goes on before Ransom even has time to nod vigorously. “‘Course you would. Way you were grinding against me, shoving your dick at me. So needy, right there for anyone to see. I bet you were thinking about it.” Ransom hadn’t been, but now he’s going to, at every party for the rest of his life.

On screen, a woman has shoved a hand between her legs, rubbing herself showily as she watches; the man next to her has pulled his dick out of his pants and is stroking fast, mouth open and drooling a little.

“Unless you’d rather have been blowing me,” Holster says. He pinches one of Ransom’s nipples, and Ransom squirms, making Holster’s hands tighten on his thighs, making him talk faster, relentlessly. “I know how much you love having my dick in your mouth. Maybe everyone else should know it too, see you on your knees for me, see how much it turns you on. You get so fucking focused, like it’s the most important thing in the world. And the sounds you make, ‘cause you’re getting off just as much as I am.”

“That’s so fucking hot,” Ransom manages, not sure what he’s referring to, and senses Holster’s responding smile, almost savage.

“Need them to see the way you want me,” he says, like he’s agreeing, then taps a finger against Ransom’s mouth. “Open up.” Ransom obliges automatically, and Holster slides two broad fingers inside, a solid weight Ransom fucking loves. “Suck, baby.”

Ransom does, and there’s such a relief to having something in him that he barely bothers with fancy tricks, swirling his tongue around only for a moment before getting to business, hollowing his cheeks out while Holster glides his fingers in and out. A line of spit traces down his chin, and he somehow feels Holster’s decision not to wipe it away, feels himself get harder at the thought of it happening in public, at a kegster, everyone seeing how messy he gets for Holster.

“Love your mouth,” Holster says, breaths coming quick. “Your fucking amazing mouth. Everyone can see how much you want it, how hot you are. How well you suck my dick.”

Ransom sucks a little harder, and Holster swears.

“But they don’t get to feel it, do they, baby. They all want to, but they just have to watch, because your mouth’s just for me, isn’t it. Because you’re mine.”

Ransom moans. Drool spills out of his mouth but he doesn’t care; the man in the video is coming all over his partner, and Ransom’s cock is so hard it hurts. Holster pulls his fingers out of Ransom’s mouth and shoves up his shirt to rub at Ransom’s nipple while his other hand drifts down to Ransom’s ass, spreading his cheeks, getting a finger against his hole, and he wants it so bad he might die.

“Holtzy, please,” he gasps, and Holster says, “Please what,” and then the timer on Ransom’s phone goes off. He throws his right arm over the side of the bed, scrabbling for it without looking—he doesn’t want to move out of Holster’s arms. It briefly slides a little farther under his bed, and he thinks for a moment he might cry from sheer frustration—Holster is still touching him—but he finally fishes it out and turns it off, saying, “Fuck.”

He twists around in Holster’s arms so that they're facing each other.

Holster grins at him, and Ransom grins back.

“So do you think you’re fully hard, or,” Holster says.

Ransom laughs, a sound that turns breathy when Holster finally—finally!—gets a hand around his cock.

“Please,” Ransom whispers again, and Holster’s face does the thing. He grabs the lube off the nightstand and starts jerking Ransom off, slow but solid, and Ransom’s eyes flutter from how good it feels.

“You don’t want me to fuck you?” he asks, and the question adds to the heat in Ransom’s gut but he shakes his head. He would, normally, but—

“I just wanna come.”

Holster lets out a weird, breathy half-chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Like this.” He falls back, propping himself up with his elbows, and Ransom follows him down, hovering just over him in a plank position. He lowers his head to lick Holster’s neck, which is salty from sweat, and smiles to himself when Holster lets out a little sigh. Then Holster takes them both in hand, and all of Ransom’s concentration shifts to not coming immediately. He drops his head to Holster’s shoulder, then raises it again. Holster’s mouth is already there, because of course he knew what Ransom was thinking, that he wants to kiss now. They do; the little noise Holster makes when Ransom licks into his mouth makes Ransom’s toes curl, and he knows he’s not gonna last long at all.

“Fuck, Holts,” he pants, and Holster groans, “Yeah,” and pumps a little faster, and Ransom hears him say You’re mine again, and a moment later he comes all over both of them. Holster follows a second after.

They breathe through the aftermath together.

Ransom rolls onto his back, staring at the top bunk. “That was, like, really good,” he points out once he can speak again.

“Chyeah,” Holster says. “We’re kind of awesome at this.”

Ransom grins. “I love you, bro.”

“I love you too.” Holster’s smile is a little smirky. “And hey, that took less time than a 30 Rock episode. So you didn’t even lose essay time.”

Ransom groans. “Fuck, the essay.”

Holster drops a kiss on his shoulder and starts clambering out of bed, pausing the video that’s still playing on the laptop. “You can have first shower.”

“Thanks, babe,” Ransom says, and sighs. “Fuck that essay.”

~~~

thanks for reading! here's the ao3 link for if u want to leave a kudos/comment.

#holsom #smut #fic #my check please thoughts #holster #ransom #check please #omgcp

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ohbuckie · 3 years

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FLUORESCENT ADOLESCENT

college!bucky x reader

summary: bucky fucks you on his bedroom floor.

warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex

word count: 2.3k

masterlist

Bucky’s room is at the end of the hall. It’s decorated simply—white rug in the center of the floor, a desk sharing a wall with the door, a few posters littering the walls, a dresser across from the bed in the corner of the room. His bed frame is metal and cheap; flimsy, to say the least. He holds onto it while he fucks you—arm outstretched above your head, trying desperately to keep it from slamming against the wall and using the leverage it gives him to pound into you harder.

His friends’ rooms are both attached to his, with their common wall being the front one that the door is on. Sam and Steve have gotten used to banging on the walls of their bedroom in protest of the loud sex happening on the other side, or even sitting in the hallway and knocking on the door. Of course, this means nothing to Bucky, who could probably ignore a category seven earthquake in order to finish. He’s nothing if not thorough.

He tries to be considerate. He plays music loudly—something with lots of bass, to drown out at least a little bit of the sound—but it renders itself useless in between every song, when both of the guys can hear every sound the two of you make. Good sleep is a lost cause in apartment 4B.

Arriving home from a double date with your roommate, you let your jacket—Bucky’s, actually—fall from your shoulders, and you catch it in your hands to hang it up by the door. You kick off your shoes, run your fingers through your hair, find your boyfriend who scurried away to the kitchen, plant a kiss on his lips.

“That was fun.” You say, running your hands up his chest, remembering how he kissed you in the cab on the way here. He smiles and leans on the counter with the heels of his palms, with you in between his arms, in front of his chest.

His lips find yours, and you cup his cheeks in your hands, accepting the tongue that he runs along your lower lip. He tastes like the red wine that he had with his dinner and smells like the expensive cologne that you gifted him last Christmas.

“I don’t think the guys are home.” He says against your mouth, and you smile, breaking the kiss and practically running down the hallway.

He follows you to his bedroom, his hand making contact with your ass, leaving it stinging while you twist the knob and push the door open. He beats you to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs open, waiting for you to climb onto his lap. You straddle him, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and his lips attach to your neck, delivering wet, hot kisses to your throat and collarbones. He runs his hands over your body—along your shoulder blades, down your spine, across your lower back—appreciating the figure-hugging black minidress that you’re wearing.

You lean forward to push him onto his back, catching yourself on your hands, which are positioned on either side of his head. You grind against his lap and he flips you onto your back in response, rolling his hips into yours.

You kiss like pornstars, swapping saliva between your mouths through tongues and clashing teeth, sucking and biting at plush lips. With his hips between your thighs, your dress inches further up your legs, making your red thong visible.

Your hands are free, and you use this opportunity to pull his shirt out of his pants and unbutton it until it’s open. The two sides hang down, exposing the top of his prosthetic arm and the outrageously defined muscles of his torso.

“Bucky.” You breathe, lips wetly separating from his.

“You okay?”

You nod. “Just want you.”

He chuckles teasingly, nudging your chin upwards with his nose and kissing down to your chest. You arch your back into him, pushing your fingers into the hair at the base of his head.

The room is dark, except for the animated screensaver of the open laptop of his desk and the moonlight that pours through the blinds perfectly, casting rigid bars of light across the wall opposite the bed. You reach to the nightstand beside you, pulling the cord on the lamp and wincing when it turns on as you’re staring at the bulb.

He pulls away and gathers himself, licking his lips and pushing hair from his forehead while he catches his breath. He looks up at you and smiles sweetly, kissing your cheek before standing from the bed and unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his slacks, pulling the zipper down, shoving them past his thighs. His belt hits the floor with a jingle and he steps out of the pants that are now pooled around his ankles. Dark gray briefs are revealed, and you appreciate how nicely they cling to his legs and ass. You remember an earlier comment from him about “fancy underwear,” and you giggle to yourself when you realize that this is what he was talking about.

“What’s funny?”

“‘Fancy underwear.’” You repeat to him, and he cracks a smile before he steps over to you to get back to business.

Instead of removing your dress, he pushes it up past your hips, harshly pulling your panties down and out of his way. He kneels in front of you and kisses your inner thighs, moving up to your pussy, ghosting over it with his lips for a moment before pressing a delicate kiss to your clit, his eyes trained on yours. His gaze remains unwavering when he licks a stripe up your entire pussy. His tongue pushes between your folds and applies pressure to your sensitive bud, and you both moan—you at the sensation and him at the taste.

“Buck.” You whine. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He sighs, disappointed that he can’t eat you out. Not that he isn’t excited to fuck you.

He stands and steps out of his underwear, tossing them behind his right shoulder. His cock stands against his stomach, seemingly thrilled to be freed from its fabric prison. You can’t take your eyes off of it—pretty and pink, fairly long and definitely thick enough.

He spreads his large hand over your lower stomach and lets his thumb hover over your bundle of nerves, keeping it still, for now. He gives his cock a few pumps, holding it just below the head to line it up with your entrance. He looks at you while he pushes in, because he loves the way that your eyes squeeze shut and your hips wiggle to get more comfortable with his intrusion.

He chews on his bottom lip, waiting until you stop clenching and fluttering around him before he moves. When he does, you reach to the hand on your stomach and hold his wrist tightly. He uses his other hand to put your right leg over his left shoulder, the cold metal of his mechanical hand at variance with your hot skin. You take the initiative to put your other leg up on your own.

His movements are less of a rhythmic roll and more of a pistoning in and out of you, giving you what you begged him for only a moment ago. At first, the thrusts are shallow, but after about a minute he can’t help himself anymore. With every jerk of his hips, his cock slams against a spot inside of you that only he has ever reached—although you’d never tell him that, because you’re too proud to admit that he can make you feel better than you ever could yourself.

When you let go of his wrist, he withdraws his hand, licking his thumb before putting it back where it was and putting it to use. He draws small circles into your clit, just like you taught him to do when you first started dating. You buck your hips up and it makes him smile, and you want to smack that look off of his face. You hate that he knows exactly how good he makes you feel.

You tighten around him when you study his concentrated face—how his brows furrow and he licks his lips.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.” Your voice is strained by desire.

“Good.” He mumbles, and starts to put a little more behind every thrust. He pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in, and the slapping noises that your skin makes upon contact with him is obscene. The bed frame squeaks as it rocks, and it hits the wall over and over again, at a moderate-but-still-annoying volume.

Loud knocking on the closed door startles you, but doesn’t phase Bucky.

“What?” He asks, not stopping, or even so much as looking in the direction of the interruption at the door.

Sam’s raised voice is on the other side. “At least put on the music, man. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, okay, fine. Go away.” Bucky replies. Footsteps descend and a door closes. Bucky pauses his movements, clearly annoyed, to lean over and fish his phone out of the pocket of the pants that he let fall to the floor earlier. He thanks God for Bluetooth when it automatically connects to the speaker that lives on his desk, and all he has to do is press play. He tosses the phone onto the mattress, lets it bounce behind your head, and picks up where he left off.

The music is loud enough to drown out the squeaking and the slapping, but definitely not the bed hitting the wall. You can’t bring yourself to care, because the circles against your clit are growing bigger and faster, and your eyes are rolling back into your head.

“Fu-u-uck.” You moan, syllables choppy from the way that you’re being fucked.

“You’re so hot.” He mutters, letting a breathy moan slip out after his words.

Something hits the part of the wall that Steve’s room is behind, and you both can hear shouting. “Shut up!”

Neither of you respond.

A familiar feeling pools in your lower stomach, tightening and threatening to spill. “I’m so close, Buck.”

You tense around him, squeezing his cock and surely bringing him close, too. He pulls out suddenly, but quickly replaces his dick with two of his fingers, curling them against the upper wall of the inside of your pussy. It shoves you violently over the edge, and you cum with a moan that rips through your chest and leaves your throat burning. His fingers continue to move through your orgasm and he watches your legs tremble, kissing your calves that are still rested beside his head.

“You good?”

You only nod.

“We’re being too loud on the bed. Get on the floor.” He orders, and you breathe through your nose, exhaling through your mouth before you stand on wobbly legs. Before you lower yourself to the floor, covered by his pristinely clean, white rug, he clarifies, “Hands and knees.”

The bass of the music booms through your chest, reverberates through your bones, echoes through your head. You feel him kneel behind you, putting one foot onto the floor for balance. You wish you could see him right now—shirt open, sweaty chest heaving, cock standing at attention, ready to fuck you to completion for the second time. He tilts his head down and you can hear him spit onto his dick before shoving it back into you, exercising no restraint.

Your head bows between your shoulders, and you try not to be too loud, because Sam and Steve hardly ever let you hear the end of it when you do, but Bucky’s making it extremely difficult. He’s taking what he wants now, since he’s already made you cum.

His hands hold your hips like they’re handles, yanking your body backwards onto his cock at the same time that he’s ramming into you. His breathing is heavy, and you close your eyes to picture his face right now. A piece of hair over his forehead, fallen from the gelled mass atop his head, jaw tight, abs tensing. That’s what he usually looks like, anyway, when he’s fucking you into oblivion. It’s an image that’s forever burned behind your eyelids.

His hips are moving bruisingly fast, bringing you closer to another orgasm. It’s actually more like you’re being dragged behind a pick-up truck that’s approaching a cliff and is showing no signs of stopping.

It takes only a hard clench to throw off his rhythm and have him cumming inside of you, scrambling to blindly locate your clit with only his fingertips so that you can finish together. He rolls it between his fingers, rubs haphazardly, and gets lucky when you cry out that you’re there again.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck!” Your knees sting from the rug beneath them, and your hands make a fist around the strings between your fingers. “Oh my God.”

He pulls out slowly, kissing down your spine while his warm seed spills out of you, trickling down your leg.

You lay on your back on the floor, much too tired to stand, and watch him pull his briefs back up, on a mission to dampen a face cloth to wipe you down with. He comes back with one, and wipes the cum from your legs and pussy, leaving small kisses in the wake of the warm water that refreshes you.

He gives a final kiss to your lower stomach before he tosses the cloth in the direction of his hamper. He lays beside you on the floor, taking your face in his metal hand and pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and forehead and chin.

It's silent for a moment, before he decides, "I need to invest in a sturdier bed."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan fluff

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spiderlilyserendipity · 3 years

Text

Obviously, pretty!

JJK x female reader

Tags: established relationship, rainy day sex, washing dishes together, soft domestic things yk, probably the most vanilla smut i’ve ever written on this account hahaha thank u for cleansing my mind with ur request anon, forehead kisses, i didn’t need to tag that but i Needed to tag that u feel me?

Warnings: none

WC: 2137

If there’s anything you know about your boyfriend, it’s that if he can’t go to the gym, he will pout all day.

After going too hard in dance practice, Jungkook ends up too sore to go to the gym one day. His trainer must’ve heard from the choreographer that Jungkook overdid himself, which is why Jungkook’s trainer told him their session for today was cancelled.

“What am I supposed to dooo if I can’t work out on my day off!” Jungkook complains, wrapping his arms around your waist as you wash dishes.

“You could help your wife clean the house.” You joke, knowing it’s your turn to wash dishes anyway since Jungkook made breakfast (or rather brunch) this morning.

You feel Jungkook smile, his cheek fluffing up where it’s pressed against yours. His face gets a little hot whenever you call yourself his wife, but you know he likes it. The two of you are college sweethearts, starting to date in secret shortly after meeting in first year. Fast forward six years and everything has changed. Your doe-eyed college boyfriend is no longer just an idol but part of the most successful band in the world. And not only that, he’s getting a master’s in business, a slightly confusing decision but one that you respect nonetheless.

You yourself have changed, too. You’re now a business woman, working in a skyscraper in Seoul, and doing considerably well for being only two years out of college. You make good money, and Jungkook does too, and you share this high-rise apartment together. Every year, you and Jungkook sneak away to Busan at least once or twice to meet his parents and your own parents have already begun asking when they’re getting grandchildren. So it’s safe to say it’ll only be a matter of time until Jungkook puts a ring on it anyway.

No one knows, but that’s what makes it special.

“Can’t do that.” Jungkook answers, pretending like your flirting didn’t affect him.

You smile as you rinse another plate off. “Why’s that?”

“It’s raining. If I do work while it rains I’ll get sleepy.” Jungkook pouts.

You laugh, rinsing a cloth under the tap and putting it in his hand. “Go wipe down the stovetop. It should be cold by now.”

Obediently, Jungkook lets go of you to do as you said. But you realize he hasn’t let the joke go when he pouts at you. “Okay, work done. Let’s go lay down.”

“Baby, you’ve literally done concerts in the rain.” You tell him.

“I don’t even do concerts. I’m a business major.” Jungkook lies unconvincingly, his cheeks turning pink. You giggle, finishing up the last of the dishes.

“Fine, you big baby. Let’s go lay down.” You take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. Jungkook shuts the door behind you. You take off the sweatshirt you were wearing to wash dishes (one of Jungkook’s), tossing it aside.

“Babe, that’s not neat!” Jungkook insists, but you whirl around and quiet him with a long kiss.

“You didn’t ask me to come here to do our laundry, Jungkookie. You and I both know that.” You tell him. Jungkook bites his lip, looking at your pretty lips.

“I guess that’s true.” He grins, and you grin back.

You wrap your arms around his neck and Jungkook leans down, picking you up into his arms with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist as he bounces you in place slightly, hands cupping your ass softly. You love many things about Jungkook, but you especially love how special he makes you feel each time.

Jungkook lays you down like a newlywed bride, pressing soft kisses on your cheeks, forehead, even your nose.

You giggle at him and he smiles down at you, warm and safe and entirely Jungkook. “I love you.” You whisper, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone, admiring that little scar on his cheek for the millionth time.

“Not as much as I love you.” Jungkook says, laying himself down on top of you and starting to kiss you again, this time with more passion.

“Hhh, Jungkook.” You whimper, tangling a hand in his hair.

When you separate this time, Jungkook sits up to take off his shirt. You run your hand down his sculpted abdomen, over his sweet, pretty waist and his toned stomach. You sit up to kiss along his chest, making him hiss as you make love marks in places his shirt will cover. No one knows, except you two. And you love it like that.

Jungkook tucks his hands under the light tank top you’re wearing, making you gasp at how cold his hands are. Jungkook laughs under his breath at your reaction. “I told you rainy days are bad for me.”

“Well that’s why I’m here to warm you up.” You joke, which makes Jungkook giggle.

“What would I do without you?” He says exaggeratedly, but his eyes tell you he means it. With that, Jungkook begins kissing along your neck as he works your tank top up. Since it’s just the two of you, you seldom wear a bra around the house. You moan as Jungkook pulls the tank top over your head, then in one swift motion presses you down into the bed.

Jungkook slots his thigh between your legs as he starts kissing you lower. He licks and bites gently at your nipples, making you writhe in pleasure. You watch through half-lidded eyes as he makes love marks on the tops of your breasts and around them, kissing down your stomach to your shorts.

He glances up at you for consent, and you nod.

He pulls your shorts and panties off in one clean movement, tossing them to the side despite having just told you to be neater. You grin at Jungkook’s eagerness, but the smile slides off your face when Jungkook wraps his lips around your clit.

Slowly, Jungkook gets you wetter and wetter until your inner thighs are shiny with arousal. Only when you’re whimpering does Jungkook insert his fingers into you, one to ease you and then a second to stretch you. Even after all this time, Jungkook pays special attention to your body.

He’s so slow and gentle today that you actually get a bit needy. “Jungkookie.” You sigh. Jungkook sits up, knowing that you’re already close.

“I know, baby. You’re doing so well.” Jungkook praises, kissing you all over, down your neck and along your collarbone. You watch as Jungkook takes his sweats and underwear off, then grabs a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer. You stopped using condoms when you moved in together (around two years ago) since you’re on birth control. Jungkook always has you ready to take him after some foreplay, but he’s told you he dislikes doing it without lube.

You watch Jungkook lube himself up, then align himself to your entrance. He places one palm on the side of your waist, kissing you quickly on the forehead. “Ready?” He checks with you again. You nod.

You pant quietly as Jungkook enters, both from arousal and his size. It has been years since you did this together for the first time, but Jungkook’s size is always a surprise to you somehow. You like to be stubborn and say you don’t need lube to take him, but you both know you’d need at least a bit for his size.

You pull him in even closer, burying his head in your shoulder. As he bottoms out, you moan his name quietly.

Jungkook smirks, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand. You pull him in for a kiss, this one full of tongue and passion. Jungkook feels your desperation and lets you have control for a moment, just to let you burn off steam. But then, he’s angling his head in and pressing you into the pillow, and you don’t stand a chance under how good he’s making you feel.

“Baby, I need it.” You beg breathlessly. Jungkook smiles faintly at your shyness to say the word “come” in bed, even after all this time.

“Need what, baby?” He teases you, knowing full well you’ll never use dirty talk unless he pushes you to that point. You whine at his teasing. Jungkook kisses your shoulder. “I’m kidding. I know my pretty girl is too shy for words like that.”

“I’m not shy!” You protest shyly. “We-We’re having sex right now! I’m not shy at all!”

Jungkook snorts. “Great observation, genius. Any other amazingly dirty comments?”

You’re starting to squirm under Jungkook’s intense gaze, knowing you always lose at this game. “I want to have a baby!” You announce.

Jungkook laughs. “Give me time to buy a ring at least.”

You’re shocked. “Really?” You ask, eyes wide like someone who Christmas came early for.

Jungkook flicks your nipple with one hand, making you cry out. “Obviously, pretty.” He says confidently, making you think he’s thought about it before. You blush and Jungkook looks at you like you’re an angel he’s captured in his own hands. “Now if you’re done being raunchy and nasty, can we get off? My hips were already sore but having a conversation in this position is even worse than the gym.”

“Baby!” You gasp, scandalized.

Jungkook pretends to look scandalized too. “I said let me buy a ring first!”

You groan into his shoulder, knowing he won again. Jungkook laughs, then starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts.

You let out little strings of moans and pants as Jungkook continues to fill you up and make you feel good. You wrap your arms around Jungkook’s back, holding him close as he fucks into you. You tilt your head back and close your eyes at the pleasure. All you hear are Jungkook’s moans and the rain falling outside your window. At one moment, you wonder if it’s cold out, but then you realize it doesn’t matter. You’re warmer than anything else in Jungkook’s strong arms.

“J-Jungkook--” You feel the pleasure building, about to come.

“I know, baby.” Jungkook says, laying you down all the way again and holding you under his weight as he picks up his pace. Jungkook looks at you, watching your face tighten at every euphoric thrust. “Doing so well baby, almost there. Fuck, my pretty girl.” He showers you in praise and kisses, words falling from his mouth so fast you know he isn’t filtering any of his thoughts at the moment. You love that too, you love everything about him.

Finally, Jungkook’s hips begin to stutter, and he reaches down to rub your clit. You arch your back as you come, Jungkook filling you up shortly after. As you come down from your highs, Jungkook rolls over onto his side, still inside you. He spoons you, tugging the covers on top for a quiet moment.

You find it surprising since Jungkook is quite fussy about cleanliness, wanting to get you in the shower and to air out the room relatively soon after sex. But today he doesn’t even slip his cock out of you, choosing to be nestled deep inside you. It feels warm, but you like it.

“K-Kookie. Why aren’t we getting cleaned up?” You ask.

Jungkook smiles at your tone with his eyes closed. “If you want to get pregnant we have to keep the come inside, don’t we?” He says. You smack his arms which are wrapped around your waist, making him chuckle.

Jungkook cranes his head to make eye contact with you. You look at his sweaty bangs which Jungkook pushed back from his face near the end but fell back onto his forehead messily anyway. It’s the most beautiful sight you know. “Just kidding. I’m just tired today. We’ll shower after resting for a bit, unless you don’t like this.”

You realize now that Jungkook must truly be exhausted from work yesterday. You cup his face, stroking it quietly. “I don’t… hate it.” You admit.

Jungkook’s eyes darken. “Watch your words, pretty girl.” He warns you. “I only have so much self-control and your dad will beat my ass if I get you pregnant without putting a ring on it.”

“Do you really have to go and mention my dad right now?” You whine. “And anyway, no one can beat your ass. You’re 6 feet of solid muscle and have a sleeve tattoo, no one would try.”

Jungkook laughs. “Okay fair, no more mentioning my father-in-law from now on.” He says, making you groan in complaint again. Jungkook smiles fondly at you. “But you know I meant that, right? I want to marry you someday and have kids and all that. I don’t know when, since you and I are so busy, but maybe when things slow down we can. Okay?”

You snort. “Obviously, pretty!"

#bts smut #bts fics #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

Quality Family Time: Baby Jack ficlet

for the bah discord besties<3

In Dean's humble opinion, the week was off to a pretty good start. Sunday, he and Cas took Jack to the library and let him go wild in the children's section, then let him run off his "excitement about literature" in the park, ending with lunch at their favorite diner, which is Dean's humble opinion qualifies as a pretty great Sunday afternoon. And then Sammy and Eileen finished up their hunt earlier than expected, and they even brought back Claire and Kaia as a surprise. Meaning they got to all have a much-needed family dinner, movie night, and catch up with the girls. And they decided to stay for a few days, which meant extra babysitters, which really meant, he and Cas could have their date night this week. And of course it also meant Dean had a few days to just hang out with his family, watch some movies, watch his kids bond, run some stupid errands, cook some big meals.

Now it was Wednesday, and Dean was spending the day with Eileen and Jack, while the others opted to help Sam with the supply run. Eileen was getting a movie queued up for Jack's nap, while Dean got a start on some laundry.

(read the rest under the cut)

He was currently running out to the garage to grab the blanket he keeps folded in Baby's trunk, smiling fondly at the memory of Monday's date night.

So yeah as far as Wednesdays go, Dean was having a pretty good one.

At least, he was.

Dean's stomach dropped as he flicked the lights on, barely registering the clang of his keys hitting the floor, standing frozen in the doorway.

He's hallucinating, he must be. There's absolutely no way that-

He squeezed his eyes shut, counting to ten while he tried to will away the hallucination with his mind. But unfortunately for Dean, he didn't have that kind of mind power, because that thing was still sitting there when he opened his eyes.

Fuck.

Forcing his feet to move, Dean stepped further into the garage, reaching out a shaking hand as he inched forward.

He'll just touch it and his hand will go through it, and he can blame this hallucination on that questionable burger he ate at some local joint they all went to last night. It'll be fi-

Dean's blood turned to ice as his hand connected with cool metal. He quickly jumped back in shock, jaw hitting the floor.

Because last time he checked, Dean didn't leave an 18 foot long Lightning McQueen sitting in his beloved Baby's parking spot.

He tried to speak but all that came out was an incoherent squeak, as he raced around the car inspecting every inch of it.

He couldn't get any of the doors open or the hood for that matter, but as far as he could tell it seemed to be a real car, despite being a cartoon look-a-like.

Well, at least it wasn't talking.

"Ka-chow"

Dean slumped over onto the roof of the car, banging his head, fists following in defeat.

Because there was a Lightning McQueen look-a-like with a toy voice box, parked in the garage of their super top-secret underground Bunker, in place of one of his most prized possessions.

Maybe he spoke too soon about having a pretty good Wednesday.

Why is this happening? How did this thing get in here? Where is his Baby? Is she alright? Can he even get her back? How the hell did this ev-

Son of a bitch.

"Jack!" Dean called, voice coming out more strangled than he'd care to admit.

Of course. Cars had become Jack's new obsession over the past week, they first watched it on Friday night and he's insisted on watching it at least once a day ever since.

Dean groaned scrubbing his hands down his face. There's truly never a dull moment with a half-Nephilim toddler.

Jack probably didn't even realize what happened. Sometimes his powers react before his mind can catch up with them, like when he subconsciously made all of his toys come to life after Toy Story became his favorite movie. The kid probably didn't even know about the Cars wannabe parked in the garage, besides his kid would never tamper with Bab-

"Dee! You found Lightning!"

Dean's jaw once again found its way back down to the floor. His own kid.

He turned to see his four-year-old come bounding into the garage, practically bursting with joy.

"What the hell"

Dean tore his gaze away from Jack to see Eileen frozen in the doorway, who's jaw also joined Dean's on the floor.

"Look see it's just like Lightning, Dee!" Jack cheered as he ran over to check out the car, regaining Dean's attention.

"Uh...ye-yeah buddy. I-I can see that bu-" Dean began sounding pained, only to be cut off by Jack.

"It's a real car, Dee. You can drive it! And look I gots all the stickers on it too"

"Yeah kiddo, bu-"

"And it can talk too! It says all of Lightning's things! Do you like it Dee? Where you surprised?" Jack asked as he wrapped himself around Dean's legs, smiling up at him without a care in the world.

Dean still mostly in shock, glanced up at Eileen who looked to be in the same boat, except she was holding back barely contained laughter.

Great no help from his best friend, traitor. So Dean shakily knelt down placing his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Listen, Squirt. I was definitely surprised. But yo-"

"Oh my god"

Dean's head jerked up to see Sam, Cas, Claire, and Kaia now standing with Eileen in the doorway, dropped grocery bags spilling out onto the floor. All of them too stunned to move, except for Cas who luckily must have noticed the distress in Dean's eyes.

"Jack, Baby. What is this?" Cas asked, quickly making his way over to them, quickly kneeling down beside Dean.

"I made Baby into Lightning! Ta da!"

"Wait, that thing is my Baby?" Dean asked voice cracking.

And of course, that's what did it.

Sam doubled over in laughter, Eileen, Claire, and Kaia quickly following, and Cas was beside him, clearly trying to conceal his laughter.

"God this is the best thing I've ever seen" Sam wheezed in the background, and if Dean weren't still reeling he'd walk right over and punch him.

Cas placed a grounding hand on Dean's shoulder, all while trying to bite back his smile. Well, Dean appreciated the gesture, at least he was trying to be considerate, unlike some people he knew.

"Bug, do you remember what Daddy and I told you about using your powers?" Cas begins, trying and failing to sound stern.

"That I can't make my toys be alive! And I didn't Baby isn't alive, and she's not even a toy!" Jack explains with a smile.

"Yea-yeah Squirt, but the second part of that little talk was that you shouldn't use your powers unless you ask Daddy, or me, or Uncle Sammy or Aunt Eileen, remember?" Dean supplied after he finally got his gears spinning again.

"Ooooohhh. Oops, sorry!"Jack shrugs and he even had half a mind to at least look a little bit sorry, but it's drowned out by another fresh wave of laughter.

"I'm so glad we decided to stay longer, does stuff like this happen all the time?" Kaia laughed behind him, as Claire wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Oh I'm so glad my distress is amusing to all of you!" Dean shot back, voice still a little unsteady, which only caused them to laugh harder. Cas met his eyes, as he squeezed his shoulder, scooting closer.

"Squirt it's okay, just uh don't do it again....now where exactly is the real Baby?" Dean asked cutting right to the chase, not missing the look Cas gave him for glossing over the whole "don't use your powers without asking" lesson.

But there was time for that later, because right now his Baby was currently a firetruck red cartoon racecar with eyes.

"That is Baby. I just made her look like that, it's her. See!" Jack explained jumping up and dragging Dean over. Everyone else followed suit, Sam giving him a shit eating grin as he handed Dean the discarded keys.

To Dean's surprise, the key unlocked the car just like baby, and the interior looked exactly the same.

"Wow kid, this is honestly pretty cool" Claire complimented with a low whistle, which earned her a death glare from Dean, only making her laugh harder.

Unbelievable. All of his kids have it out for his car today.

Dean heaved a sigh as he watched his family examine every inch of the car, not bothering to hold back their laughter at this point.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we didn't watch How to Train Your Dragon" Cas quipped wrapping Dean in his arms as he pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Dean flopped over and laid his forehead on Cas's shoulder, letting a soft laugh escape.

"Yeah well, at least my car wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire" Dean groaned back, feeling Cas' laugh rumble in his chest.

"Yes I know this is a tragedy, clearly the real live dragons would have caused less damage-well less emotional damage anyway"

"Woah, look at that, he's got jokes. Alright everyone step away from the racecar" Dean smirked, yelling that last bit as he pushed away from Cas' chest. He made his way over to Jack who was currently in the driver's seat (keys nowhere near the ignition of course), showing everyone how the horn says McQueen catchphrases now.

"Alright Houdini, while the Lightning McQueen trick was very cool, and we've reminded you that we don't use powers unless we ask. It's time to turn him back into Baby, capiche?" Dean said in the most no-nonsense tone he could manage as he kneelt down to Jack's level.

And of course Dean's very logical, very simple, very warranted request resulted in an uproar from his family.

"Wait you aren't even gonna take it for a spin?"

"You've literally got thee Lightning McQueen sitting in your garage"

"Dean c'mon one dri-"

"Nope. Not happening. Now way am I driving that thing" Dean cut in, flinging his arms out for emphasis and effectively silencing the traitor-his family.

Then he felt a little tug on his shirt.

"Please Dee? One time, then I change Baby back?" Jack asked with his best puppy dog eyes, and Dean quickly made a mental note to kick Sam's ass for teaching him that.

And as he slowly tilted his head back up, he was met with four pleading faces, all hovering around the car He desperately turned his gaze towards Cas knowing he'd be the voice of reason, he'd neve-

"Well, it would be a waste not to take the car for at least one ride" Cas shrugged almost sheepishly, barely hiding his grin. Dean stared back into his eyes trying to will him to change his mind, but he knew it was pointless.

Dean sighed his defeat, running a hand down his face. Damnit

"Fine, one drive-and I mean one. Twenty minutes tops" He shouted, throwing his hands in air in exasperation as everyone cheered.

And when Dean found himself driving back to the bunker four hours later, he and failed tried to hid his smile. He glanced in the mirror at Claire and Jack passed out, while Kaia and Sam held a whispered conversation in the magically (which Jack may or may not have had a hand in) stretched out backseat. Eileen turned in the front seat joining the conversation, as Cas sat in the middle, pressed up against Dean.

Cas gave his hand a squeezing, shooting him a knowing smile, which only earned a nudge from Dean.

So yeah, maybe Dean did almost have a heart attack earlier in the day. And maybe he did have to let a bunch of annoying people in the next town over pose for pictures with the car when they stopped for dinner. And maybe the horn said "Ka-chow" and "I am speed". And maybe the drive was more than twenty minutes. But in Dean's humble opinion, it was still a pretty good Wednesday after all.

Lightning McQueen be damned.

Tag list pt 1:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @angeltiddies @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@athenixrose @slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @thiscowboyisbisexual @carverera @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie

#a very normal fic. nothing weird here at all #very normal<3 #i actually think im really funny #im fine<33333 #nothing strange. just baby jack and a fambly #bec writes #baby jack truthing #destiel fic #destiel #plantdadcas #dean winchester #seraphcastiel #rambleoncas #userzaddy #uservilma

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Let's Give It A Try

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Mafia AU, Sex Toys, Overstimulation, Use of Sir, Dirty Talk, Degradation

Summary: Dating a man like Bokuto Koutarou goes against every moral code you’ve learned growing up, but love has a funny way of going against the grain.

Bokuto exhales, sighing as he leans broad shoulders against the rough exterior of the building behind him, cigarette smoke floating in tendrils in front of him. He prides himself on the strength and health of his body, but when he gets in one of his moods after a particularly strenuous week, he can’t help but rely on the way the nicotine mellows out the stress of his job. Closing his eyes, he lets the muffled beat of the music inside the club reverberate through his chest, letting himself let go just a tiny bit. Foolish maybe, considering just how many people want him dead, but he allows himself a moment of lax judgement while on his turf, literally on the ground he owns, surrounded by his men both in and out of the club, under the watchful blue eyes of his right hand man.

Everything will be just fine.

And suddenly everything’s a little bit more than just fine as his curiosity peeks, sharp owl-like eyes scanning you as you come stumbling out of the club, taking deep ragged breaths, completely unaware of your surroundings as you greedily inhale the fresh night air.

He has to bite back the sharp grin that threatens to stretch across his face at your adorable jump and squeak when you finally straighten up and take inventory of who’s around you, quivering like a little mouse when you meet his intense golden gaze. There’s something different about you and he can tell with just a quick glance at you that this isn’t your usual joint, taking in your considerably conservative and casual outfit for the area’s most popular nightclub, the nervous ticks and almost bashful way you curl in on yourself, unused to the hungry look he continues to direct at you.

It takes some coaxing and he almost feels bad at how he swears he can hear your frightened and unsure heartbeat pounding your chest as he approaches you. But his talons are out, wide eyes too curious and intrigued by the prey that’s caught his attention to just let you go off on your merry way. He croons at how you stutter, tripping over your words in your nervousness, licking his own lips for a different reason when he sees your pink muscle dart out to wet your dry ones.

But he can feel his wings furl out to their full span, can feel himself prepare to lunge at you when he finds out that his sweet little mouse came all by herself, trying to get over your recent breakup by having some fun, maybe even finding someone to…

This time he does laugh when you embarrassedly trail off, ending your anxious ramblings, before pinning you down with a wild grin that makes your chest tighten.

“I can be that someone.”

There’s something about the man that leaves you on edge. You can’t deny the fact that he’s handsome, in a wild rugged way that reminds you of a predator. But there’s something...intense about him, something in his eyes, something in his presence, something in his aura that makes you shiver, keeping your suddenly heavy feet rooted to their spot. Not that you’d get very far if he was intent on doing you harm you ascertain as you stare at the muscular and toned figure in front of you.

Yet despite all that, you can’t help but believe that he really does mean you no harm. Maybe it’s what you want to believe. A last hope and faith that not all men are scum like your ex is. Desperate to believe that there are decent men out there, that you can find happiness and maybe even love one day. So going against every ounce of self-defense and common sense that’s been instilled in you all your life, you take this stranger’s hand and let him guide you away, finding comfort in his warm, calloused grip.

Even if you do end up dead after all this, you can’t help but think you’ve made the right decision, your problem more than solved as any thoughts of your ex (and anything else really) fly out your head as soon as you’re dragged into an alarmingly luxurious apartment. He really is more animal than man and you cry out as teeth harshly dig into your neck, possessively and hungrily marking every inch of you, lips greedily wrapping around perky nipples and sucking with a force that makes your eyes roll and your nails dig into his thick biceps. But that only seems to egg him on more and you vaguely wonder if you’re going to cum before he can even get to the main course, body already overwhelmed with arousal and desire as he touches you everywhere except where you need him most.

You’re positively dripping by the time he does make it between your legs, too high strung to even be embarrassed, letting out a high pitched whine instead when he teasingly blows on your sopping wet entrance, pressing your thighs apart, leaving you on full display. And you swear you black out purely from relief when a hot wet tongue finally licks a long line up your slit. So on edge already, it only takes a few flicks and lapping of your aroused clit to have you careening off that pleasurable cliff and you sob, body thrashing and convulsing as you ride out your orgasm while lips and tongue continue to work you over.

You blearily blink as you finally regain control of your body, expecting the man between your legs to take the hint as you try to sit up on your elbows. But you scream, instantly collapsing on the bed, hands fisting in the sheets besides you as two thick fingers suddenly slip inside of you, beginning a relentless pace right from the start, hot tongue still lapping and licking at your sensitive clit. It’s too much, too soon and you writhe, body trying to pry yourself away from the torturous pleasure, but also aching for another release as the coil in you is wound tight. Not that Bokuto leaves you much choice as he easily keeps you pinned down, your legs no match for the strength of his arms and upper body as he continues to feast on you, your pretty cries and screams music to his ears, your delicious juices intoxicating. And before you even realize it, you’re forced to your second peak, creaming and clamping down on the digits still stuffed inside of you, back arching, mouth opening in a silent scream.

Surely it’s over and you tell yourself that you’ll just close your eyes for a brief moment, a few seconds at most before paying him back with a blowjob, handjob, whatever he wants in return. Except your companion has very different plans on exactly how you’ll return the favor and your eyes shoot open, pathetic pleading noises spilling past your lips as you feel something hard and thick press against your entrance. But then he’s shoving inside of you, cock splitting your spent hole in two, and your mind blanks, unable to resist, unable to enjoy, only able to take and feel as it drags against your walls, going deeper and deeper.

And that’s how you pass out, one of the last clear memories you have before your mind fades to darkness, exhaustion and bliss rendering you useless as you’re ruthlessly fucked into and used by the man above you as he chases his own end, head empty except for mindless thoughts of cock, cock, cock.

There’s a few more one night flings after that and you try and convince yourself that it’s just that, nothing more, ignoring the pang in your heart when Bokuto sends you a sad face via text when he wakes up to an empty bed, ignoring the guilt resting heavy on your shoulders when you accidentally sleep in longer than you meant to and have to pry yourself from a pouting face and gentle grip on your wrist as gold eyes plead for you to stay.

But Bokuto Koutarou always gets what he wants and you find it harder to wriggle out from his strong arms as the sun’s rays filter through the windows, you find it harder to not sit down at his dining table and stay for a piping hot cup of coffee, you find it harder not to wake up and nuzzle closer to his body, cuddling and sweetly talking with him more than a casual relationship warrants.

And you find it impossible to not say yes when he asks you to officially go out with him one lazy morning as he cradles you in his arms.

Dating Bokuto is an adventure unlike any you’ve been on before and it’s so easy to be swept along in his enthusiasm and energy, giggling like children in one moment before you’re being pounced on in the next, gold eyes darkening in raw hunger and lust. Bokuto is an enigma that you wonder if you’ll ever truly understand, so easily shifting from a cheerful goofball to a dangerous predator and back again. But you don’t mind, finding the multi-faceted personality one of his strong suits...until it isn’t anymore.

You’d always had a feeling that Bokuto was hiding something from you, some things not quite adding up, the outgoing man strangely reticent about certain topics, especially regarding his work life and where his money comes from. But you had chalked it up to your sweet boyfriend being humble, not wanting to delve too much into his enormous wealth, because he must have enormous wealth from the penthouse apartment he lives in, the extravagant vacations he whisks you away on, the luxury gifts he bestows upon you without blinking an eye. And you’re correct, just not in the way you had imagined and you tearily and accusationally glare at him when you accidentally come across the hidden switch in the back of his closet, door opening and revealing crates and crates of a white powdery substance.

You want him to laugh it off like he always does, tell you some bullshit about it being for some prank he’s going to pull on Akaashi or Konoha, that it’s not what you think it is. But he doesn’t and the two of you just silently stare at each other, the pieces connecting all too clearly even without a word being said. And you leave, betrayal and hurt digging their claws into you as you leave behind a man who you thought you had known, who you had loved, but who you realize maybe you don’t really know at all.

It feels eerily familiar, a sense of deja vu flooding you when you take hesitant steps into another nightclub in the area, desperate for another distraction, another fling to fuck you free from thoughts of gold eyes and a muscular body. You tell yourself that there’s nothing similar about the solid build of the stranger you’re grinding up against, that the similarity in appearance is just coincidence as the two of you stumble to his apartment. But then lips and hands are all over you, too gentle, too soft, treating you like glass, words too cautious. Everything’s wrong, wrong, wrong and when he begins a slow careful pace, fucking you like he’s making love, so different from the way a certain man would have broken you down to pieces only to build you back up, you shove him off, uncaring of how rude you’re being.

That night when you return to your own bed, you sob in frustration, toys, dildos, vibrators scattered around you as you seek any relief you can get, looking for even the slightest mimicry of Bokuto’s touch, trying to remember what he sounds like, what he feels like. But memory and imagination can only get you so far, can never live up to the real thing, and you scream into your pillow as an unsatisfying orgasm ripples through you, the realization that Bokuto has ruined your body for anyone else, even yourself, sinking into you.

It’s absolute stupidity to be with someone just for great sex. Absolutely ridiculous. What decent human would go crawling back to their drug-dealing ex just for his good dick game? God knows what other shady underground shit Bokuto’s up to and you know it runs much deeper than a single room full of cocaine.

But maybe you’re not a decent human. Maybe that’s why you still can’t stop thinking of him despite how you try and hold out, despite the multiple flings, nights, and even entire weekends you spend with yourself in bed, spending far too much on sex toys, pussy and clit throbbing, fingers and hands aching from constantly bending to be inside yourself. Yet for all that, you’re never satisfied, every weak orgasm, every disappointing touch from another man only making your need for Bokuto even more pronounced, until you finally break. And a month later you call Bokuto, a scrambled frantic call over the phone with a dildo shoved deep inside you, a vibrator buzzing on your clit, tears streaming down your face when they do nothing to take away the yearning inside of you, begging and pleading for him to come and help you.

It’s humiliating how even just the sight of him skyrockets your arousal to levels you haven’t felt since the two of you dated and you whimper as he casually leans in your doorway, thick arms crossed across his chest, gold eyes raking over your sweating nude figure that’s writhing on top of rumpled bed sheets.

“This is a good look for a desperate slut like you. Couldn’t cum without me? No one, not even your little toys could make you feel good? Maybe I should just leave, just like how you left me. Leave you high and dry. Well I guess maybe not that dry.”

You pant, wide blown out eyes watching as he slowly approaches you, face heating when he bends down to peer at your dripping cunt, mockingly whistling at how you pretty hole is no different than a leaking faucet, inner thighs drenched in your arousal.

“Koutarou, please-”

You scream as fingers harshly twist at your nipples, eyes rolling to the back of your head as just that brutal touch is enough to bring you over the edge you had been hovering around for so long, body convulsing, a dopey grin making its way onto your lips when you finally feel the pleasure you’d been craving for so long.

“Fuck, you came from just that? Who the fuck said you could cum? Who the fuck said you could use my name? Sluts like you don’t deserve to say my name. You know what to address me as.”

You wail, pain melding with the pleasure as he shoves your vibrator away, alternating between pinching and slapping your already overstimulated clit as he enunciates every word he snarls at you, a feral grin stretching across his face at your barely coherent babbles of “sir” and “sorry”.

The constriction in his own pants is painful and he’s quick to strip waist down, slowly palming his aching erection. It takes everything in him to hold back, to not just shove balls deep inside of you in one strong thrust, your absence affecting him just as badly. But that’s not what this is about. This is about making a point, reminding you just how wrong you were for leaving him without a single word, rebuilding what the two of you once had. And as ravenous as he is, he takes his time, willing himself to slow down and rediscover every inch of you, painstakingly exploring your body once again, re-memorizing every sensitive part of you that elicits a little gasp, a tiny mewl.

And he doesn’t stop, pulling the dildo inside of you completely out, using his teeth, tongue, and finger to bring you to the edge over and over again, always backing away just when you’re about to fall off that pleasurable cliff once more, diving back in like a man starved just when you think you have a shaky grasp on your senses. Only when you’re full out sobbing broken cries of his title, a litany of “please, please, please” escaping you does he move on and he groans at how perfectly your legs wrap around his back, urging him inside you as his cock finally makes contact with your gushing cunt, your hands weakly pawing at him in a silent plea for more.

But again he stops, bringing a thumb to wipe away your tears as you begin to wail anew, frustration and denial tearing you to shreds, instinctively leaning into his touch as he gently strokes your cheekbone.

“Tell me who’s the only one who can make you feel good. Who’s the only one who can pleasure you?”

And as you scream his name, he finally slams inside of you, relentlessly pounding in and out of you, gold eyes hungrily taking in how wrecked you look, how broken you look, all because of him, only for him.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to tumble together over that edge, not when both of you are beyond pent up, absence making your hearts grow fonder and your bodies desperate for each other. And you can’t help the content warm surge inside of you when you feel hot thick liquid fill your insides, your body lax and useless in post-coital bliss, heart and mind eager for Bokuto to collapse beside you and pull you into his toned chest like he always does.

Except there is no familiar weight beside you and your head shakes side to side, drool trickling down your face when Bokuto’s softening cock is suddenly replaced by four fingers brutally thrusting in and out of you, curling just right along your still quivering walls.

“We still have a long way to go, little mouse. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You don’t know how many times you’re forced over the edge after that, consciousness fading in and out as he assaults your cunt with his fingers, his tongue, his cock. You even vaguely remember waking up once to a dildo in your ass, Bokuto pounding into your cum-filled pussy, your body more stretched than it’s been in a long time. They all blur together, only tied together by the delirious pleasure that numbs everything else until you’re succumbing to darkness one last time as yet another body shaking orgasm rips through you.

It’s the scent of fresh coffee and bacon that awakens you and you blearily open your eyes, only to immediately wince as soon as you try to move, your body feeling like it had been rammed into by a truck (although you suppose that imagery isn’t too far off from what actually transpired). Sinking back into the plush pillow and mattress, you close your eyes, wondering what’s your next move. Force your aching body out of bed and confront the inevitable, already somewhat dreading having to face Bokuto now that your mind isn’t clouded with lust? Go back to sleep and pray that he’s gone when you wake up again, like a coward?

But Bokuto doesn’t leave you a choice and you shyly cover yourself with the blanket when he comes bounding into the room, a heaping plate of food and a cup of the delicious caffeinated beverage in his hands, heart fluttering when you see the warm and affectionate grin on his face as he approaches you, carefully placing everything on the nightstand before tenderly pecking your forehead and murmuring good morning.

You try to say something, anything, words getting stuck in your throat, but you’re shushed as the coffee mug is carefully placed in your hands, Bokuto’s soothing voice urging you to eat and recover first. And you gladly take the excuse, hunger and thirst from last night’s endurance marathon finally making itself known as you devour everything. But there’s only so long you can avoid the inevitable and with belly full and feeling more yourself, you listen as he gently grabs your hand, letting him entwine his fingers with yours as he tells you everything.

Who he is. What he does. Exactly how he’s affiliated with the Fukurodani Syndicate.

None of it is surprising, a lot of it what you had surmised and guessed yourself. But it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow knowing just how much he had kept from you, how much he had been planning on keeping from you for who knows how long. At least it’s all out in the open now though, no secrets left between the two of you, and there’s a pause as he continues to rub his thumb on the back of your hand.

“I won’t sugar coat who I am and what my life is. I don’t expect you to come running back with open arms. But if you’re willing to give it a try, I swear that there’ll never be any more secrets, that I’ll protect you, that I’ll love you. I’ll be the damn best boyfriend there ever is.”

You almost giggle at how childish the last sentence is, hope churning in your stomach when you see how genuine and passionate he is, fondness flowing through you when you recognize the man you had fallen in love with beyond the dirt on his hands. And you know it’s arguably foolish, goes against every moral code you’ve grown up with, but love never does seem to follow set equations and rules and you bring that hand to your lips, affectionately kissing your clasped fingers as you meet gold eyes.

“Let’s give it a try.”

#haikyuu smut #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

585 notes · View notes

windsource · 3 years

Text

for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too. PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one.

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now.

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles.

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.”

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know.

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits.

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued.

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea.

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow.

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush.

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand.

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]

#b*gen #bookshelf #spnprideweek #sam and cas #rambleoncas writing #roc original #my post #theedorksinlove #userdainty #klinejack #usershey #creativecaviar #userpris #usersully #spnclownpals #hope it was okay to tag!!

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing and I may or may not have stalked your blog a little. I saw requests were open, if you're ok with this can you write poly Bruabba's first time with a virgin s/o. Please?

Have a nice day!

shared - abbacchio x reader x bruno (2k)

everything always seems to be perfect, when it’s with them

afab reader, neutral pronouns aside from one use of ‘principessa’. not sfw! threesome/poly relationship, first time. oral sex.

“We’ll be very gentle with you,” Bruno had murmured, humming against your ear, his fingers resting on your hips as you were cradled in his lap. In front of you, Abbacchio has already lost his shirt and his trousers, and now his pale hands are reaching for you, carefully lacquered nails taking hold of the hem to tug it upwards. “Leone can be a little rough, but even he can will himself to something a bit more considerate.”

Abbacchio snorts at Bruno’s words, but then your shirt is coming off and you’re just in front of them in your bra, hungry eyes raking over the newly exposed skin. You feel your cheeks heat up, squirming in Bruno’s lap.

“Says you,” Abbacchio says. “Amore, don’t let his ‘kind man of the people’ act fool you. In bed, he can be every bit as depraved as I can--”

“Leone,” Bruno’s voice has a light laugh. You know, from whispers in your ear and romantic notions put into your head, that Abbacchio is probably right – but still, as Bruno’s hands move up from your hips to lodge in the spaces of your ribcage, your head comes to rest on Bruno’s shoulder. You sigh into the air as careful fingers unclip your bra, the fabric falling from you – your nipples peaking in the cool night-time air.

“Look at you,” Abbacchio murmurs. The scratch of his nails down your stomach as he goes for the zipper of your jeans next sends a lightning flash of warmth through you, a curious heat and heaviness between your thighs. “You’re so pretty, tesoro.” The loving pet name coming from between Abbacchio’s lips makes your heart skip a beat – he’s usually rather less romantic than Bruno is, though when you look at his ice-pale eyes you see they’re all melted and softened by fondness. Bruno’s thumbs brush over your nipples, making you shiver, and making Bruno’s lips where you can see them from the corner of your eye tilt into a smirk.

“So responsive,” he coos, enthralled, repeating the motion so you squirm once more. You’re aware of a heat between your thighs, a kind of slick pounding that makes your head spin. “I wonder how many times we can make you come between us tonight.”

Your jeans are unbuttoned, peeled down your thighs – your legs spread. Abbacchio stares down at the place between your legs, where your underwear is slick and clinging deliciously to your damp folds, with the air of a man looking at a beautiful work of art.

His reaches, fingers skimming your bare thigh – thumb tracing the indent of the valley between them, barely skimming your pulsing clit where it’s pressing against the fabric. You sigh against Bruno, back half-arching into the touch, heart pounding a consistent rhythm in your ears.

“I can smell you,” Abbacchio growls.

“Perhaps you should taste,” comes Bruno’s suggestion, vested in teasing – but there’s a steely quality to his words that makes you think that perhaps he is not merely making a suggestion. It’s a quality that both you and Abbacchio seem to respond to – the pale-haired man bites his lip briefly, for a fleeting moment – before he ducks his head and chuckles.

“You’re so wet,” he tells you, as his thumbs hook into the waistband – as you’re rid of that scrap of fabric too, and your sex is bared entirely for Abbacchio to drink in.

Drink in he does.

First, with his eyes – caressing the length of your slit, drawn to the fluttering hole and your plump clit, how the pink folds are glistening with your own slick. And then, as he settles on his knees and leans forward and breathes in, he turns his attention to drinking you in with his mouth.

The first long, hot lick of his tongue against your sex you keen; as he lathes the blunt wetness against your heated core, your hands reach up to cling to Bruno’s neck, your own fingers twisting in the other man’s silky dark hair. Bruno’s eyes are trained between your thighs, to where Abbacchio is lapping at you like you’re water in a dessert.

“He looks so good there, hmm?” Bruno asks, and you look down and see exactly what Bruno sees – subservient Abbacchio, eyes unfocussed as he concentrates on how the sweetness of your nectar tastes on his tongue. “I’m probably better at this than he is, but it doesn’t mean he’s not good--”

“Aa—hnn, ‘m--” Your words are lost as Abbacchio’s tongue teases at the tip of your clit, rolling the sensitive nub over and around. Bruno chuckles dark and deep.

“Next time, I’ll get to use my mouth on you,” he murmurs. “And he can watch. Would you like that, principessa?”

“Y-yes,” you breathe, as Abbacchio ramps up the speed of how his tongue is flicking over your clit. You can feel your body responding with tight vibrations of need, like you’re being lit on a hundred tiny fires. Your fingers desperately rake through Bruno’s hair still, as your voice turns into a collection of shaky whines instead of anything coherent. As Abbacchio sucks your clit into his mouth to suckle on it, Bruno murmurs;

“We’re just preparing you, you know. So you’re slick and wet and ready when we get to finally fuck you--” and you are pushed over the edge, by Bruno’s velvet-edged voice. Fireworks in your stomach, the sound of waves rushing in your ears, Abbacchio’s tongue easing you over the highest peak and the smaller aftershocks that come next. He pulls back from your sex with his mouth glimmering with your wetness, and he kisses Bruno like he’s sharing the taste,

The younger gangster does not disappoint, moaning in pleasure as their mouth sloppily glide together. Bruno’s dark ocean eyes go half-lidded with enjoyment.

“You taste divine,” he tells you, and he kisses your cheek. Your limbs are still pleasantly fuzzy, your body still not caught up with anything else after the shake and rock of your orgasm, so as Abbacchio gently eases you off Bruno’s lap and lays you down among the pillows, you have nothing to say or do except smile fuzzily at them.

“Do you think you’re ready to carry on?” The silver-haired man asks, settling into the bed next to you, brushing hair from your forehead. “You can let us know if you need a break, we won’t hold it against you – this is for you, as much as it’s for us--”

Your attention is caught by Bruno pulling down his trousers. There’s been a respectable tent in them all the while you were squirming as you were eaten out by Abbacchio, but as the clothing item is finally stripped off from him completely, you see that ‘respectable’ is not quite the right word.

“He’s thick,” Abbacchio says, and the hunger in his voice is palpable. “He fills you up exactly right, tesoro, I promise--”

Bruno gives his shaft a few pumps, showing off in front of both of your enraptured gazes. The smile on his face is lazy – he knows that you both like what you see very much indeed. It doesn’t mean he’s not going to make fun of you, though.

“You don’t need to stare, Leone,” Bruno chides, smug. “You’ve had it in you enough times . . . And you,” he turns his attention to you, raising an eyebrow, murmuring your name in a way that makes your toes curl and the liquid heat between your thighs feel like it’s molten lava. “You’ll get to know it just as well, soon. Better to learn it with your body, don’t you think? I won’t ruin you, your first time.”

You’d thought you’d be more anxious about your first time, let alone your first time with them. But Bruno and Abbacchio are not making it a big deal, beyond the fact that they’re focused on your pleasure, on making sure that everything is comfortable for you – they aren’t making a song-and-dance about it, they’re just . . . treating you how they always do, with extra genitals and nakedness involved. They’re barely mentioning that it’s your first time ever, the fear of disappointing them being pushed somewhere far in the back of your mind--

“Yes,” you breathe, urging your thighs wider apart and winning a chuckle from Bruno. Bruno moves closer to you, settling himself on his knees between your legs. He adjusts the angle of his cock, brushing it over your sex, coating it in your slick juices and Abbacchio’s fluids too – before he gently sinks inside of you, the head catching on the rim of your entrance.

A soft noise of surprise escapes you at the stretch. Immediately, one big hand is grabbing yours, fingers entangling – Abbacchio, murmuring something softly about how good you are that you can’t fully parse because another hand has grabbed your other hand, lacing those fingers together. This hand is tan, a definite shudder in the clench of his knuckles – one hand held by one boyfriend, the other held by the other.

Bruno takes his time sheathing his cock inside you. You’re tight around him, clinging to his walls like you’ll barely fit him, and he does it for both of your benefits – but oh, the slick walls pulsing around him and how the mould so well. The little pants escaping your pretty mouth. His eyes flicker from you, your eyelashes fluttering and your mouth half-open and pleasure-daze clouding your vision – to Abba, who looks like the two most beautiful angels in all of heaven have come down to spend time with him in particular. He’s worshipful. If Bruno were a different man, and you were different too, perhaps that look would have made you both conceited. Instead, you smile dreamily at the two of them, your gaze flittering from one to another with an air that seems to say ‘I love you’ over and over again.

He hilts. He’s as deep in you as he can go, all snug and hot and tight and wet – and he pulls out a little, and drives in again, revelling in the wet sounds of your intimate areas echoing through the room.

You’re so wet for him. You’re so good, for both of them – your hand slack in Abbacchio’s as you moan out first Bruno’s name and then Abbacchio’s, aware that even if it is Bruno that’s fucking you right now, all of this pleasure is a team effort.

You’re perfect.

Bruno’s hips pick up speed as he finds a rhythm – not too fast, not too slow. The perfect middle ground that you feel every vein and throb of his shaft, but not so slow that you concentrate on the stretch and burn. Your head is rolling around on the pillow, beads of sweat forming at your hairline as you pant and gasp out along with Bruno’s own thrusts. Abbacchio’s sighing, unconsciously bucking his hips as he watches the two of you – he’ll need some gentle handling later, and you wonder if Bruno will help teach you how to make Abbacchio feel as good as the paler-haired man had made you feel.

Bruno’s thrusts begin to get sharper, his hips seeming to hit you just a little deeper. As he continues to fuck your welcoming walls, a sharpness appears in his eye and a slight grit to his teeth – you realise, as he groans out your name again, that he’s rapidly approaching his own orgasm.

“Bruno,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in tandem with his though you can’t help but feel that your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, nowhere near good enough to compare with the glide of Bruno’s cock inside you. “Feels . . . feels so good--”

Bruno laughs, a breathless noise.

“You just wait until we can both get in you at the same time, amore.” That one is Abbacchio, dark and gritty – and Bruno groan-laughs at it, his hips twitching, jerking into you with a sudden lack of finesse as you feel a creamy heat and thickness fill you. Bruno pushes his come inside you with a few more weak jabs of his hips before he pulls out, your combined release dripping out of you even after Bruno’s efforts.

“You did so well,” Bruno coos at you, bringing a hand to stroke the side of your face. “So perfect, tesoro . . . so perfect for us--” His eyes have gone half-lidded and his voice is slurred with sleep and pleasure as he pets at you, even these clumsy movements making you feel warm and safe.

“Not quite perfect, “ Abbacchio says. His voice is a little dry. You raise your sleepy eyes to look at him – and your gaze is immediately drawn to the place between his thighs, where he’s wearing only underwear, where the long imprint of his cock is clearly visible in a state that’s best described as ‘straining’. “Someone who’s perfect wouldn’t leave me with this problem--”

Bruno laughs that laugh again, deep and rich like the first coffee you’d ever shared with them on a crisp spring day.

“Who says we’re leaving you, caro?” He asks – he turns to you, smirking. “Do you want another first time lesson, amore?”

You swallow, eyeing the bulge in Abbacchio’s pants, the swollen lips from where you suppose he must have bitten down on them to try and distract from how turned on he was.

“Yes,” you whispers. “Absolutely.”

#not sfw #writing #poly ship tag #leone abbacchio x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruabba x reader #poly bruabba #leone abbacchio #brunobuccellati #jojo postin #Anonymous

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jjungkookislife · 3 years

Text

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary: attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it?

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary: he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams. Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

#jjungkookislife fic recs #jjungkookislife fic recs masterlist #fic recs #fic recs masterlist

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Text

shelter me from winter’s bite

Everyone’s doing a hypothermia fic so I figured I may as well contribute. It’s one of my favorite tropes.

title taken from Brian Czyzyk’s poem “Hoarfrost” (he’s my favorite young queer poet and you should check him out).

tw: hypothermia, angst with a happy ending, whump with a happy ending

---

“Do you always have to be so damnably loud?” Geralt growls, glaring at Jaskier from across the small room.

“My apologies for existing,” the bard snaps back. He’d only been rearranging his pack, looking for something reasonably clean to sleep in while his clothes were laundered by the innkeeper’s lovely wife. “I’ll try to do so more quietly from now on, good sir.”

Geralt huffs out a breath in passive-aggressive annoyance and Jaskier bristles.

“Oh well, then. C’mon witcher, I know you want to say it!”

“Say what?” Geralt asks. His voice is low and threatening. He’s ready to play the game and by god he’s going to win this time.

“It’s practically your motto at this point,” the bard hisses through his teeth, angry and bitter and tired. Geralt sees victory. Sees some peace and quiet on the horizon. “Say it!”

Geralt does as he’s told, like any good witcher would: “Fuck off, bard.”

“There it is!” Jaskier laughs joylessly, throwing up his hands. He pulls on his doublet and boots and heads for the door. “If you want me gone so badly, Geralt, then I will go. I’ll get out of your lovely white hair and leave you to mope in peace.”

“Fucking finally,” the witcher snarls, turning away. He doesn’t see the genuine hurt in Jaskier’s blue eyes as the bard quietly closes the door rather than slamming it. He doesn’t hear the quiet sob that rips its way out of Jaskier’s throat as he stands very still, shocked and suddenly exhausted all the way to his bones. He doesn’t smell the salt of his bard’s tears as he slips silently down the hallway and out into the late autumn night. He doesn’t notice the snow starting to pile up on the windowsill ahead of season.

He’s too busy being a self-flagellating moron to notice any of that.

---

Geralt is woken in the middle of the night by a commotion downstairs. He can hear several loud, panicked heartbeats and one very quiet, very slow heartbeat beneath all of those; it’s achingly familiar but the half-asleep witcher can’t quite call its source to mind. Geralt listens as the innkeeper barks out a series of sharp orders: “Meredith, you get to the kitchen and make some strong black tea! Florence, fetch a pail of warm water and two or three towels from the laundry. Josiah you lazy lout, get into the attic and fetch some blankets! The poor lad has gone blue all over!”

The witcher peers into the hallway and catches the skinny stable hand, Josiah, racing for the attic staircase. “What’s going on?”

“A farmer from the next town over was on his way over to help a friend’s sow give calf and he found-” the lad pauses to suck in a great gulp of air and launches off again “-and he found that friend of yours lying in a snowbank, muttering nonsense and shivering like a leaf. The poor fool didn’t have a cloak on him or anything, just a doublet and walking boots! He’s near-dead!”

Geralt curses and makes for the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reaches the main floor. There are voices coming from the kitchen and he follows them as if in a dream, his feet moving without aid of his conscious mind. “Jaskier? Is it the bard, Jaskier?”

“Are you the great brute what kicked him out?” the innkeeper’s wife asks, crossing her arms over her ample chest and narrowing her eyes. Geralt falters.

“No, he- he left on his own, in a huff.”

“Wonder who could have started the huff,” the woman rolls her eyes. This isn’t about his status as a witcher, Geralt knows; this eye roll was made by a woman who knows a lovers’ quarrel when she sees one. Except that this stupid little spat might have cost Jaskier his life.

“Where is he? May I see him, goodwife?”

The woman points to a table in the corner, which has been cleared of cooking implements and cushioned with a heavy bearskin. Jaskier lies atop the brown fur, his skin frighteningly pale, his lips and fingers tinted a slight blue. Geralt rushes to his side and takes one of the bard’s stiff hands in his own. He brushes a stray lock of brown hair from Jaskier’s forehead and nearly recoils in shock from the temperature of his skin. Even colder than his hands, which are already dangerously frigid. If Jaskier cannot play his lute-

Geralt doesn’t even allow himself to finish the thought. Instead he works on rubbing small, careful circles onto the back of the bard’s hands with his thumbs, warming the skin in tiny increments: “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

The bard remains unmoving, heartbeat fluttering weakly, lungs barely drawing breath; Geralt fights back an overwhelming sense of panic, trying to recall whatever training he’d received at Kaer Morhen concerning freezing humans.

“Do you mind if I take him upstairs and tend to him myself?” the witcher asks.

“Can you take care of him?” the innkeeper’s wife replies.

Geralt bows his head, shame licking like flames up and down his bent spine, and nods. “Yes, Ma’am. I have dry clothes for him in our room and I was trained extensively for emergency situations such as this, all witchers are.”

“Alright,” she narrows her eyes. “But he’d best be alive come morning.”

“I’ll happily turn myself over to the village elders to be dealt with accordingly should the bard come to any harm,” he vows. Her eyes widen minutely and he can read the surprise in her body language, but she remains relatively calm.

“Any further harm, rather. Alright, then. I’ll have my husband and the girls bring those supplies up to your room for him. We’ll be glad to go back to sleep.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Geralt bows formally. She blushes despite her irritation with him and waves him away.

“Take your bard and go, witcher, before I change my mind and spend all night caring for him myself out of motherly pity. Go.”

Geralt hefts Jaskier into his arms, heavy bearskin blanket and all, and hurries up the stairs to his room. He will not let Jaskier come to any further harm. Not by his hand. Not by his word. Never again.

---

Back in their room, Geralt quickly undresses the shivering human, peeling away what few damp layers there are with growing disappointment. Jaskier hadn’t been prepared for a walk in the snow at all! Although, to be fair, it hadn’t seemed that cold earlier in the evening and the snow had been sudden and heavy.

He wipes Jaskier down with a warm cloth and slips one of his own clean shirts over the bard’s head. He tries not to let his gaze linger on the way Jaskier’s shoulders don’t quite fill out the dark material. Or on the way his dark, wiry chest hair peeks out through the open laces at his throat. The witcher quickly shuffles him into clean smallclothes and wraps him in a thick wool blanket.

They sit curled before the fire and Geralt holds Jaskier against his chest. He hums with his voice like gravel, grating out one note after the other in some attempt to soothe the bard’s aching body. Jaskier shivers and shakes violently in the witcher’s strong embrace, his eyes clenched shut with the cramps that wrack his frame as his muscles return to their normal temperature. Geralt feels like he’s holding a porcelain doll and keeps his grip deliberately loose, tight enough to comfort but not restrain.

“G-Geralt,” he groans. “Hold me, please.”

The witcher squeezes his arms more confidently around the bard’s middle, burying his face in Jaskier’s soft hair and breathing deeply. The warmth that usually emanates from his busy human body is gone and his chamomile-honey scent is buried beneath a layer of damp cold; it feels wrong. Terribly wrong. Geralt murmurs against his temple, begging the younger man’s forgiveness: “I’m so sorry, Jaskier. Gods, I’m so sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me? I’m a fool, you know. I’m a fool witcher who never says anything important until it’s too late. I’m so incredibly sorry, my love.”

“This is a very good dream,” the bard sighs, smiling despite the pain. His eyes open, bleary and addled. “Like I was having in the woods, but better.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow and Jaskier seems to understand the unspoken question, even in his current sorry state.

“The real Geralt would never be so gentle with me, dear heart. You must be a dream, sent to me on my deathbed to ease my passage into the afterlife. There’s no other explanation for your sudden displays of tenderness.”

“It’s... It’s really me,” Geralt affirms. He runs his hand up and down the length of Jaskier’s spine, “I’m here, Jaskier. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?”

“I forgive you for being stupid ever other day, dear witcher. It is of no consequence to me.”

“It almost was,” Geralt frowns. “I nearly- I almost-”

Jaskier’s arm raises weakly and his too-chilly hand presses to Geralt’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like an idiot. I shouldn’t have kept picking the fight. We both fucked up, alright? What matters is our second chance. We got to have one, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“Am I wearing your shirt?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Yours were all being laundered and this one was clean and it had been in my pack near the fire so it was already warm and-”

“Did you take care of me all night?”

“Hmm.” Geralt sighs after his hum and glances away for a moment. “What did you mean about... about the dream in the woods?”

“Oh. Well, when I was very cold and things were hazy and slow, I dreamed that you were there with me. Everything got very fuzzy and warm for a little bit, and when it was warm you were holding me like this and giving me little kisses. It was... nice. Even though I knew I was dying because you were being so soft, so considerate; saying things to me you’d never say out loud in real life.”

“I love you, Jaskier. I will try my best not to lose my temper needlessly,” the witcher swears. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Can we still cuddle like this?” Jaskier asks, leaning his weigth against Geralt’s firm chest. “It’s so nice to be held.”

“Of course. Anything you want. I’m not going to waste my second chance by treating you poorly. Not for another second, my beloved bard.”

“B-beloved?”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, well then I’m definitely still dreaming.”

Geralt lifts Jaskier into his arms and carries him over to the bed, which is piled high with their extra blankets. He tucks Jaskier into the nest against the wall and lays along the outside of the mattress. He presses his lips to the bard’s, reveling in Jaskier’s returning warmth, and smiles. “I’ll prove it’s not a dream. Every day.”

“Sounds nice,” Jaskier yawns, snuggling into the witcher’s arms and settling down to sleep.

“It will be.”

#geraskier #hypothermia #getting together #bouncey's endless getting together fics #geraskier fic #geraskier fluff #whump with a happy ending #fluff with a happy ending #geralt #jaskier #jaskier whump #jaskier gets hypothermia #caring geralt #soft geralt #winter fics #geraskier winter fics

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spencers-dria · 3 years

Note

Can you maybe write something where the reader meets spencer in prison and when they get out, they meet up and they have really rough and kinky sex like you can literally go as dirty and kinky as you want

Four Feet Apart

🎉150 follower celebration! Day 6

Spencer x fem reader

Content/Trigger Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral female receiving, anal play, blindfold/sensory play, and handcuff/restraint use, protected penetrative sex, mentions of murder, prison

The beginning is a little angst, little fluff, plenty of smut!

“Alright inmates, listen up! There’s been some budget cuts. For the time being, the old west wing building will be taken by overflow from the women’s prison.”

The guard’s voice was overtaken by wolf whistles and hollers.

“That’s enough! Now you will not share a building with them. You will not see them during meals. However the courtyards do share a fence. If you are caught harassing them in any way, you will be punished accordingly!”

The announcement had caught the attention of just about every inmate, except one. Spencer Reid had bigger problems to worry about than women. He didn’t get them outside of prison, so why should he worry about them on the inside. He needed to worry about how to stay safe, stay alive until his name was cleared. That is, until he met you.

_______________________________________

I sat on the bleachers, popping some bubble gum as I searched for some worthwhile eye candy. The sun was a bit hot so I shrugged my button down off my shoulders, opting to tie it around my waist, leaving me in a white tank. This of course leads to many wondering eyes and a few whistles from the men’s side of the fence. I’m not even sure what i’m looking for, but none of the men giving me the time of day have it. I finally notice a slender man sitting on the men’s bleachers, just a few feet away from the fence on his side. I scoot up , slipping my fingers through the women’s chain-link side. Of course I could never touch any of them, with each side having about four feet between their respective fences. But there were no rules against looking or talking even.

“Hey. Think too hard and you’re gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”

He looks up a bit startled, but his posture changes once his gaze lands on me. He almost looks shy, which seems in direct contrast to his rugged look. But once I look in his eyes, I see depth and warmth and kindness that belongs far away from this place, and it hurts me for a moment, to think of what will happen to him here.

“I don’t bite. The name is Y/L/N. Got in for killing my ex husband. How about you?”

He blinked, speechless at first.

“Doc- I’m uh, Spencer Reid. They think I killed someone too…”

“Well, didn’t you?”

He shook his head. Based on the look in his eyes, I want to believe him I really do.

“Did you know that incarceration of women has been growing at twice the rate of men’s incarceration?”

“Now how in the world would you know that?”

He simply shrugged.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just looked like you could use some company is all.”

He looked like he wanted to respond, he really did. But before he got the chance, the women were called back inside.

I give a quick salute. “Nice meetin ya Spencer Reid. See ya when I see ya.”

___________________________________________

The next time I saw him he looked different. Scared, fragile, and a bit bloodied up.

“Hey- what uh- I mean, are you okay?”

He refused to look up or give much of an answer. But he was sitting in the same spot, close enough for us to have another conversation so I have to believe he wanted to talk again.

“I’m guessing you’re relatively new. It happened to me too ya know. Especially when I wouldn’t just go along with everything they asked.”

That drew his attention, and I could see tears in his eyes.

“You can’t let them see they get to you, that you’re scared. I learned that long before I got here though. That’s why I killed him ya know- he hurt me and I couldn’t just take it anymore. Police wouldn’t listen. I just wanted it to stop.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I shrugged it off. I’m paying my time but I’m safer in here than I ever felt with him.”

“Can you keep a secret?”

Now he has my attention. I nod, trying not to seem too excited to be sharing schoolyard secrets with the handsome stranger.

“I uh, was in the FBI. I was framed by a, well you can almost call her an arch nemesis of sorts.” He laughed to himself. It was a warm sort of laugh that filled me with butterflies. “I was just trying to get medicine for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia. She was getting worse and I-“ his words are quickly cut off by the sounds of sniffles.

“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t mean it to be rude, but I had to know.

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people and- you’re not a bad person. I trust you.”

In that moment, our eyes met again, but something new was there. Desire? Lust? Caring? Who knows. But that was the start of something. Of daily meetings, and quiet longing.

Day after day we would sit by our fences, sharing stories of our lives before prison. I learned that he was kind, hard-working, and actually quite funny. Spencer Reid was the best company I’d had in years, and not just within the prison walls.

He also told me about the rough time of it he was having on his own side. I gave him pointers where I could. How to get in with the right people, how to avoid the wrong ones, and how to get himself safe when necessary.

At one point, the politics on his side did endanger his life, and that’s when we came up with the plan together. A plan that would help take down the very man targeting him while getting Spencer somewhere safe for now. This meant I wouldn’t see him while he was in solitary, but we both knew it was necessary.

We never spoke about exactly what it was we wanted but- it was there. We devoured one another with our eyes. Biting and licking lips, drawn out breaths, and lingering gazes. We knew.

I watched him change overtime. His hair and beard grew yes, but so did this darkness in his eyes. The soft, Bambi-eyed boy was seemingly gone, replaced by a man who needed to hurt someone, anyone. And oh was I ready to let him hurt me.

I waited by the fence each day for his return, but it never came. I finally decided to ask around until I heard something that thrilled me but also left a huge gaping hole in me.

“He left.”

I couldn’t be happier for him. Had they cleared his name? From the sound of it, federal agents, friends of his had come to retrieve him. I could only hope that he was safe and happy.

Then one day I received a letter.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you. Just you. You made my time there worthwhile, worth missing. There’s so much more I wanted to say to you, and a letter just won’t do it justice. I have a feeling you’ll be out on parole sooner than you think. Come find me when you can. I’ll be in D.C..

Counting the days,

Spencer

____________________________________________

Parole? I had at least another year before that could even be a consideration. But I started counting too, which didn’t last long. Imagine my surprise when I got out on parole only two weeks after receiving the letter.

Did he- no he couldn’t, could he? Spencer had been gone for months. Clearly he had cleared his name, thank goodness. I knew I needed to see him as soon as possible.

I couldn’t leave the state, but luckily I didn’t need to. With what little I had, I made my way to D.C.. I figured I’d start out at the return address on the envelope, the one I clung to like my life depended on it.

With a bag slung over my shoulder, I raised my hand with the letter to hesitantly knock on the door, completely unsure of what to expect on the other side.

My mouth fell open at the sight before me. Spencer Reid in a cardigan, a tie? I had never seen him outside the prison. He looked so put together. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear him apart. I did my best to suppress my lust in hopes of a civil and normal greeting.

I don’t know what I expected. Tears, hugs maybe? We stood there staring at each other for who knows how long before I finally spoke. I’d had a well rehearsed speech in my head. One I’d had two whole weeks to work on since he sent the letter. But that all went out the window the second I saw his face again.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Who was I kidding? We could see it in eachother’s eyes, the same desire from before, but stronger somehow. Maybe because it was quite literally within reach. Months of daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch him, kiss him, get absolutely railed by him.

The man I had met initially was so gentle, timid. I watched him change in that prison. I had initially imagined ruining him, breaking him for my own pleasure. By the time he left I wanted something completely different. I wanted him to do the breaking. I wanted him to use me for his own personal pleasure. And he knew it.

He grabbed my face to pull me in for an all consuming kiss that quite literally took my breath away. I had to pull back, gasping for air before I could get any words out.

“Missed you too.” I smiled.

“Can we take this to my bedroom?” The words came out rushed, as though he might die if he couldn’t have me in that very moment.

I give an enthusiastic nod. A small squeal and uncharacteristic giggle leaves my lips as he scoops me up in his arms, whisking me away to his bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he pants, frantically removing his clothes. “Can you get undressed and lay down on your stomach for me?”

I follow his orders without question. He leans down by my ear and asks one question. “Safe word?”

“Cherry blossom.”

“Anything off limits?”

I don’t even have to think. “No, I trust you.”

Next thing I know I feel soft silk over my eyes as he ties a blindfold in place. This allows me to focus on the sounds of whatever else he is preparing. I hear a distinctly familiar jingle of metal, which is confirmed as it touches the skin of my wrists. Handcuffs. I wiggle my hips in delight, which earns me a playful spank.

“Like what you see?”

“I definitely can’t complain.” I can almost hear his smirk.

His fingers dig into my hips before pulling them up in the air. I feel cold air hit my core immediately.

“Fucking beautiful.”

Without any warning I feel a finger coated in cool lubricant coating my other opening.

“Try and relax for me, beautiful.” His fingers run through some of my hair, dragging across the skin of my back and I feel my muscles immediately follow his command. I attempt to mentally and physically prepare for whatever could be coming next.

I feel him work in what feels to be a decent sized anal plug. I’ve tried them before but only by myself. I’m already enjoying the added stimulation. My hips jolt when he suddenly brings his head down to lick up through my slit and I can’t help but yell.

“Fuck!”

“Mmm you like that, dirty girl? You’re quite literally dripping for me.”

He says it so calmly, I can hardly wrap my head around how smooth he’s being.

“Yes sir, please!” I beg.

“Please what, hmmm? What do you need?”

“Need you to eat my pussy please sir!”

Damn I sound absolutely pathetic. To think I ever considered myself a feminist. So much for my leg up on domineering men. Here I am willingly let one take me, have me anyway he wants. And that’s just the way I want it too. For Spencer Reid, I would be anything he needed.

“Good girl.” The two words have me writhing in pleasure with the combined sensation of his tongue back on the place I need it most. He sucks and laps at me like I'm his favorite dessert . He reads my body like a book, every movement and moan. He knows just what I need, when to let up, when to push harder. It’s unfair just how talented his mouth is.

And then, I’m coming undone on that beautiful mouth of his. Too bad I can’t see it. But oh it’s all I can imagine as waves of pleasure wreck my body and he’s running his fingers down my back, squeezing my ass as he gets in his final victory licks.

There’s a distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and I appreciate the consideration. I feel him sit on the bed next to me, against the headboard perhaps?

“Come sit on my lap.” His voice is dark and commanding, and my body is already responding with a fresh dose of arousal.

“But I can’t see sir.”

“No excuses. Come sit on my lap or you won’t get to come again.”

Not only can I not see, but my hands are still handcuffed behind my back. Not to mention my knees are weak from my most recent orgasm. This oughta be interesting. I try to scoot on my knees towards where I had heard his voice, only to lose my balance once I bump into his legs. I fall face first into his lap. Not the worst position to be in. I hear a soft, dark chuckle above me.

“Poor pathetic thing, are you already too weak? Can you handle another one?”

I swear, I never knew I was into degradation and humiliation. I don’t even know if I truly am, it's just something about him, about Spencer, that turns me on with everything he does.

“Yes sir, please! Please I can handle it! Let me try!”

I feel his fingers grasp my jaw, pulling my face up till I’m sitting on my knees again. I can feel his breath on my face and I wish I could just lean in and feel his lips on mine. My wish is granted for just a second. I feel his plush lips brush against mine, but they’re gone just as quick.

“Pretty thing. Let me help you, hmm.”

His long fingers wrap around my hips and guide me till I’m sitting in his lap, one leg on either side.

“Do you think you can ride me without your hands for balance?

“Yes sir!” I nod with an embarrassing eagerness.

“Show me, baby.”

I raise up and with his guidance again, lower myself until he’s making sure my other hole is filled as well.

Each bounce against his lap is adding pressure against the plug, combined with the bump of his cock against my cervix. With no sight, I’m so in tune with every sensation, especially the way his fingers feel roaming every inch of my body. He’s pinch my nipples, grabbing my ass, tugging at my hair. I may have been the one begging but he was clearly just as desperate.

When he decided he needs more, Spencer grabs my hips and starts thrusting up into me at a completely

ridiculous pace.

“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock. See for yourself, little girl.”

Before I have time to realize what he means, his beautiful fingers are ripping the silk away from my eyes, only to be met with absolutely heavenly eyes. They’re golden, warm, filled with lust but also something kinder. They devour my body like I’m his goddess. I absolutely love watching him enjoy the view. He licks his lips hungrily as he watches my breasts bounce and the way he looks sliding in and out of me.

Spencer pulls me in so he can leave a trail of kisses along my shoulders and neck. I love the way my face feels buried in his soft curls, he smells of lavender shampoo and it’s intoxicating. When he pulls back he’s got a knowing smirk on his face.

“What?”

In seemingly one move, I’m off his lap, on my back, with my hands pinned over my head.

“But the hand cuffs? How did you-“

Instead of answering he silenced me with an all consuming kiss. We’re biting, sucking, moaning, on one another like animals in heat. I can’t help but feel sorry for his poor neighbors.

He keeps my hands pinned above my head while realigning himself ready to pick back up where he left off. Before I can even register what’s happening he’s pounding into me like it’s his fucking job.

“You feel that? You feel how perfectly I fill you up? So pretty with my cock in you. Fuck- you take it so well!”

Words are gone from my mind. I’m left with moans, tears, and one name. Spencer.

“Spencer!”

He lets go of my arms and they instinctively wrap around his neck as I use my legs around his hips bringing him close.

“I’ve got you pretty girl. I’m here. Be a good little thing and come for me. Come on.”

I’m wrecked, shaking and moaning, unsure if I’ll ever be able to stop. He’s right there with me, filling me up in the best way. The pleasure is intensified by the extra pressure from the plug. I cling to him for dear life as I ride off my high, enjoying the way he looks above me. He’s angelic with the light sheen of sweat causing his skin to glisten in the low lighting, the natural sparkle of his eyes, the way his curls fall in his face, the pretty pink lips softly parted as he pants.

He’s dominant but also so soft and kind with me. It's clear tonight he cared about my pleasure just as much as his own. Maybe I don’t ever have to let him go. Maybe we can just stay here, twisted up in one another, blissfully unaware of all our troubles and the world around us.

I’m embarrassed at how much I whine as he gets off of me and slips away into the bathroom. I don’t know why I was surprised when he returns with a warm washcloth and lotion. He’s cleaning me up, tending to my wrists and any other spots sore from friction, and removing the plug. All the while he’s littering my skin with gentle kisses, all along my back and shoulders, my hips, my chest, my face. I’ve never been so pampered.

“Are you okay?” His voice is sweet and smooth like honey, leaving me tingling in the wake of its sweetness.

“Never better.” I leave kisses across his knuckles and he gives me that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

After some convincing, I get up to use the bathroom, returning to a very sweet looking boy waiting for me under the covers, looking up with puppy dog eyes. I see the man I first met in the courtyard months ago. The one that stole my heart. I slip into the spot next to him, and we tangle back together, skin against skin. It’s so warm, soft, inviting and I think I’ll stay forever.

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #prison reid #post prison spencer #spencer reid x y/n

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

All the time with you

Lily was avoiding him.

Which would be nothing new to James except they were dating for two weeks now and she was his girlfriend - she had said yes when he’d asked her, twice, so James was sure if that - and James had thought everything was fine between them.

It seemed like that when he’d meet her for breakfast - she had kissed him softly on the lips, her eyes closed a second longer when they broke apart as if she was still savouring that kiss and she had beamed at him. They had gone together to Potions class, but then, in the middle of class, when her potion was brewing, she had withdrawn suddenly, edgy on her spot, and she had briefly talked with Professor Slugnorn before vanishing her potion and abandoning class.

That was it. She had left with barely a wave to him, just telling him she would see him later.

But she wasn’t in the Common Room in their next free period and she hadn’t showed up for lunch either. None of her friends seemed to know where she was, which meant James had to resort to search for her in the Marauder’s Map.

‘That’s a little bit stalker, don’t you think?’, Sirius asked, his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. He always thought it was amusing when James freaked out about Lily as if he could see something James was blind to.

‘I am worried’, James said, very reasonable. Lily was missing - maybe something had happened, maybe she was in the Hospital Wing, maybe she had met someone who was far more interesting than James and…

Well, maybe he was overreacting a little.

But finding Lily was easy - her dot was still on her bed, alone.

On the one place James couldn’t get to her.

‘Oh, Merlin. This is bad’.

‘What is bad?’ Sirius asked, coming to sit on James’ bed and following James’ trembling finger on the Map. ‘She is in her dormitory’.

‘I can’t go there - don’t you see what that means? She is avoiding me’.

Sirius blinked, not impressed.

‘I think she is avoiding everyone, Prongs’.

It could be, but not everyone was her very concerned boyfriend.

‘Probably she was just tired and took advantage of Slug’s love for her to drop out of the class’.

‘That’s it, Lily loves Potions. She wouldn’t leave class unless there was a reason’.

‘Tired, like I said. Aren’t you two overworking to finish that Christmas event?’

James nodded, hoping there wasn’t any guilt showing up on his face. Sure, the Christmas event was one of the things the Heads had to organize, but he and Lily were taking way longer that it was needed just because they had been too entertained with each other in the past two weeks - it turned out that the Prefect’s Room was empty if all Prefects were out in patrol rounds and it turned that James and Lily were responsible for defining those rounds.

All in all, they were taking weeks to do something that they could have finished in two nights - but it provided them a nice excuse to all these moments together.

‘Yeah, maybe’.

‘Just relax, Prongs’.

He wished he could, but Lily didn’t show up for Charms either - another of her favourite classes - so, under his friends’ amused looks, he went to talk to Mary McDonald, asking if she could ask Lily to meet him.

‘Sure, James’, she said, giving him a funny look. ‘But I think she just wants to be alone’.

‘Do you know what’s wrong?’, he asked, biting his lips. Alone, Mary had said. Alone sounded bad.

‘Oh, it’s just - you know what? I will talk to her and we’ll see’.

That sounded ominous too. He nodded, quiet.

There was another free period that afternoon after Double Charms. They stayed in the Common Room, and James was supposedly finishing an essay, but his head kept turning to the stairs to the girl’s dormitories.

‘You are going to break your neck, Prongs’, Remus noted when James turned once more after hearing steps on the stairs, but it was just two Second Year girls that had come down.

‘I am fine’, he said stiffly.

‘No, you are not’, Sirius disagreed, reaching over to grab the parchment James had been writing on. ‘You got back to doodling “L.E”’.

‘It’s short for Law of Elvendork’, James said. ‘The theory that says every object can be turned into another as long as the elements are proportionally observed during the transformation’.

‘You are making this up’.

‘I am making this up’, James conceded, ignoring Sirius’ look. ‘I am just - I wish there was some way of going upstairs -’

‘I know’, Sirius said, a grimace on his face. That was the only thing they had never managed to accomplish in their seven years at Hogwarts. ‘Maybe we can restart that project - did we try the Confundus Charm on the stairs?’

‘Fourth year’, Peter answered him, without raising his eyes from his essay.

‘How about our animagus form? If -’

‘First thing we did on Fifth Year’.

‘Polyjuice Potion?’

‘We tried to brew on Third Year’, now Peter glanced at Sirius, shaking his head. ‘I looked like Anne MacMillan for three days!’

‘Oh, well, she was pretty’.

‘I had half her body. The left part of her body. I had to hide it for three days!’

James almost smiled at the memory.

‘Half of you was pretty then’, he said to Peter, who rolled his eyes. Then James sighed. ‘Well, I can’t finish this essay today, so I will - Lily!’

He raised immediately, a hand grabbing his own hair nervously as Lily came down the stairs. Her face was pale and she smiled at him when she saw him, but there was something restrained on her smile.

James thought she looked like she was really uncomfortable with something.

‘Hi, guys’, she said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. ‘Can I talk to you, James?’

When he nodded, quiet and still, she raised her eyebrows a little bit. ‘Alone, I meant’.

‘Oh, sure’, he said, looking around for a quiet place, but Lily surprised him going in the direction of the boy’s dormitory. He glanced around, finding his friends equally surprised, and followed her upstairs.

Lily didn’t turn to him until they reached the top of the tower. There, she looked around the room - James was grateful that the house-elves had cleaned up their mess, because the room looked decent - before turning to him.

She wasn’t smiling. That didn’t look good.

James felt something pressing his chest, putting all pieces together in a puzzle he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish - Lily avoiding him, the grimace on her face, the way she was closing her eyes now and then as if to steel herself to do something and her request that they would talk alone, in a place no one could witness their break up -

‘Which one is your bed?’, she asked, stopping his reverie. James blinked, confused, and pointed to the nearest bed. Lily nodded. ‘Control your thoughts, okay?’, she said, sitting on his bed. ‘But lay here with me’.

There had been a considerable number of scenarios that James had imagined Lily on his bed, but on the verge of her breaking up with him was not one of them.

‘I think I prefer to stand up, Lily’, he said slowly.

‘We can’t do it with you like that’, Lily answered him as if it were obvious. ‘Just come here, please, James’.

He frowned, unsure, but he sat on the other side of his bed. Lily looked at him as if James was missing something very important, and when he didn’t move, she sighed.

‘Are you mad at me?’, she asked, sounding tired. ‘I am sorry I went away without -’

‘I thought you were mad with me!’, James interrupted her, shocked. She looked confused.

‘Why would I be mad at you?’

‘Because - yes? What else would you break up with me?’

‘Break up? Did you take that Essence of Insanity in class today?’

‘If you are not breaking up - why did you call me?’

‘Oh’, she blushed, the sweetest shade of pink colouring her face and James imagined he could feel the heat coming from her body. ‘I wanted to cuddle’.

‘... cuddle?’

‘Yeah, you know’, she put her legs on the bed and he saw she had taken out her shoes. Lily laid on the pillows next to him, her hand supporting her head. ‘Mary told me you were worried about me and I thought - instead of being miserable alone in bed, I could be here with you’.

‘You wanted to be miserable with me?’, he asked, but there was a shadow of a grin on his lips now. He took off his own shoes, lying in the bed too, and Lily nestled against his chest, closing her eyes.

‘It’s really hard to be miserable next to you’, she assured him, pressing herself more against him and inspiring heavily. ‘You smell so nice’.

With her lying so close to him, the scent of her shampoo so strong and intoxicating, James thought he could say the same about her.

But he just raised his hand to touch her hair, combing it softly, watching the strands of dark red hair. ‘Lily? Are you ok?’

‘I am, it’s just -’, she paused, unsure. ‘It’s cramps’.

‘Cramps?’, James repeated, confused, and then he opened his eyes. ‘Oooh’.

‘Yeah, sorry about oversharing’.

‘What? No, I - well, I want to know when you are not feeling well or - I mean - can I do anything to help?’

James tried to think of whatever he knew about female biology. His father had explained some things to him a few years ago and he understood the basics, but he hadn’t been paying attention very much if he was honest. Female body looked much more complicated than his.

‘You can keep hugging me’, she whispered and he pressed himself closer to her. 'Sorry about scaring you today. I just wanted to suffer alone'.

'Don't. I mean, I'd rather you don't suffer but - if you must - I am always available for some cuddling'.

She raised her head a little to place a kiss on his neck that gave him goosebumps all over his body.

'I will keep this is mind', she told him warmly. Then Lily sighed. ‘It’s been a while since I have this crisis… I usually take my potions the day before, but - well, I was a little bit distracted yesterday’.

She broke away just enough to wink at him and James suddenly remembered exactly what they had been doing last night on that empty Prefect’s Room - how he had pressed her against the door of the room, his mouth exploring her neck and any exposed skin there, how Lily had moaned softly and how that had driven him crazy -

‘James?’, she called him and he realized he must have drifted off in the memories, judging by how his body was reacting too quickly. He turned slightly, urging his mind to stop recollecting that moment. ‘Maybe now is not the moment?’, she added, a knowing smile on her lips.

‘Sorry’, he said, feeling his neck reddening. James forced himself to focus on the present. ‘I will help you remember next month’, he promised. ‘No distraction, Marauder’s honour’.

‘Maybe just a little distraction’, Lily said, winking at him again. He laughed softly, kissing her forehead, and she rested her head under his chin. ‘I will pay attention next month, don’t worry - I mean, you don’t need to know my cycle, James -’

‘Nonsense’, he said lightly. ‘I already know Remus’, what’s one more?’

She let out an amused laugh, the one that was James' favourite.

‘Well, wait until you experience my mood swings’.

‘PMS? Is that real?’

‘Very real’, she assured him. ‘I may need to hide again -’

‘I hope you don’t’, he whispered, massaging her neck now. ‘I meant it when I said I want to be there with you’.

‘I may get really stressed’, Lily warned him. ‘Like I may want to throw things - it’s better if you are not close’.

‘I have very good reflexes’.

‘Or I may get really sad and cry, and you’ll think it’s because of you, but it’s not’.

‘Then I will give you chocolate’, he promised. ‘Chocolate is the solution for everything’.

Another laugh; James smiled to himself, satisfied with her reaction. Discovering her reactions to him was really his favourite part of the last two weeks of dating her.

‘Well, you can’t go wrong with chocolate’, Lily agreed. ‘And this massage is really good too’.

‘Oh, I have magic fingers’, he teased. ‘I can show you’.

‘James…’

‘I meant a massage in the back, Lily’, he said innocently, and she chuckled once more, not believing him much. ‘Here’.

He sat more upright, helping Lily’s head on a pillow next to him, and started rubbing the base of her neck and then her shoulders, feeling the tension on her muscles and letting it guide him.

‘Hmmm’, she sighed. ‘That’s actually good’.

‘See? Magic fingers’. He kept rubbing her back, feeling her relaxing under his touch. He beamed - even after two weeks of them going out, there was still that disbelief in knowing Lily fancied him back and trusted him and wanted to be with him. ‘So, those mood swings - care to tell me beforehand?’

‘Oh, you’ll notice’, she said distractedly. ‘Two weeks from now probably’.

‘So - two weeks ago you were in one of them?’

‘I guess’.

‘Then our date and all that snogging later - just one mood change?’

‘Oh, it certainly changed my mood’, Lily said, turning her head in his direction and he was relieved to see her green eyes sparkling. ‘There were some hormones involved in kissing you, but I promise you none of them were fleeting’.

‘I’m glad to know’, he answered, grinning too. ‘Or else we would kiss just one week of the month’.

‘That would mean three miserable weeks’.

James laughed. Lily watched him, a smile on her lips that died when she closed her eyes, grimacing.

‘Are you in pain?’, he asked, worried.

‘It’ll pass, just some more minutes for the potion to take effect again’.

He laid down again, this time with her back for him, and Lily curled up against him. He put a hand under her head, careful to entwine his hands with hers.

‘You are so warm’, she whispered.

‘Is that bad?’

‘No, it’s good. I might nap though’.

‘You can - I’ll wake you up later for dinner’.

She sighed softly.

‘Thanks, James - I know this is not how you imagined us being in your bed’.

Her voice was heavier now with sleep, though he could hear her teasing. James let out a soft laugh, kissing the top of her head, and hugging her closer. Lily was quite warm for him too; there was something very cozy in being next to her like that, even if all they were doing was just cuddling together.

He thought of sharing nights with her where they would just do this - lay together, his arms around her, quiet and serene, and somehow those nights looked as appealing as the most creative nights he could dream of.

‘You are wrong, you know’, he whispered, but she didn’t move and James thought she had fallen asleep. ‘I want to be with you in every way’.

And he closed his eyes, letting her warmth and perfume lull him into a quiet sleep too.

#Jily #jily oneshot #James Potter being a nice boyfriend #Fluff #Lily wants a hug #James and Lily

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