#he looks so good... the urge to keep it is gonna make me develop a twitch under my eye...
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Everyone But You
Thomas “Tommy” Slater x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 2122 words
Warnings: none
Summary: I hate everyone but you! Featuring my hatred for shirts with tight sleeves.
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You hated camp.
Growing up, your parents had forced you to go every year, suggesting that it was going to be good for your development but you knew now that was bullshit.
Nothing about making macaroni necklaces and getting your asses kicked in the color war was going to teach you anything. Except for, of course, how much you hated doing both those things.
Not that you got to stop going just because you got too old.
That would have been too easy.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this again” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you rubbed sunscreen into all your exposed skin.
The only thing that could possibly make this whole thing worse would be roasting in the sun, on top of everything else.
Though, it would be a lie to say that the thought of giving yourself third degree burns in order to go home hadn’t crossed your mind.
You hated it out here.
It didn’t make any sense to you that people would intentionally come out into the woods, let alone that they would actually pay to do so.
It was stupid.
“It’s fun” Tommy responded, unphased as he dabbed a bit of the leftover sunscreen on your nose before closing the cap with a snap.
This whole thing had been his idea.
Unlike you, Thomas had always liked going to Camp Nightwing and when the opportunity arose to become a counselor, he jumped at the chance. Of course, that meant that you were going to be tagging along.
Tommy insisted that you didn’t have to, but you both knew it wasn’t a question.
There was no way in hell you were going to spend an entire summer away from him, not when he was the only thing actively keeping you from going out of your mind.
So, you packed up all your essentials and dragged your ass out into the middle of the woods,so that you could spend all your free time sleeping in a cabin that smelled like dirty socks and prepubescent urges.
It was still better than spending it in your bedroom alone, or so Tommy kept trying to remind you.
At the end of the day, you were the one who agreed to come look over all these kids with him, after all.
You couldn't really blame anyone but yourself.
“In what universe is this fun?” you grumbled, flinging the blondes t-shirt at him before slipping your own over your head, finding the yellow fabric far too inviting to actually go with any of the other clothes you bought.
Not that it mattered.
The only person you cared about was standing in front of you, laughing as you tugged on the sleeves, trying to loosen them around the skin of your upper arms.
Clearly, they were going to have to go.
“In the same universe where you’re about to pull those off with your bare hands” he countered, tossing his shirt to the side for a moment before closing the distance between the two of you completely.
If you kept at it, you were going to ruin it.
You sighed, dropping your arms at your sides for a second, looking at Tommy in defeat. He knew how much you hated this.
The Sunnyvalers always made comments, somehow managing to tear down all the confidence you’d built up over the rest of the year in a matter of minutes and on top of everything, you had to wear this stupid thing.
It just felt like it was one thing after another.
“You gonna be alright?” the blonde questioned, a teasing tone betraying the seriousness of his question as he watched you pout.
He knew that you were still just mad about having to leave the confines of your cabin, because you’d have to go to the cafeteria, but it was funny to watch you try to find alternatives as excuses for your poor attitude.
“I hate you”
The words left your lips with a vigor but even you couldn’t help the small upturn of your lip as you met his eyes.
It was a lie.
If there was anyone in the world you couldn’t hate, it was Thomas Slater and you both knew it. He had always been the one person who could get a smile from you, even when you had decided on a frown.
That was just what it was, and for the most part, you’d accepted that.
It was the rest of the current residents of Camp Nightwing that were the problem now. Well, them, and this stupid shirt.
“Really? Cause I could have sworn you just told me you loved me yesterday” he countered, taking one of your hands in his own and pressing a soft kiss to your closed fist before dropping it back down.
Again, you only rolled your eyes.
He was always so sure of himself, and if you didn’t love him so much, it probably would have been annoying.
“Unless that was someone else. In which case, this is really awkward” he kept going, leaning around your frame just enough to get a good look at the fabric that had been bothering you so much.
They never quite considered your body shape when making things like this, and it had always been a problem.
Even when the two of you were campers here yourselves, you always had to stretch out the cotton as far as it would go just to wear it comfortably. It wasn’t until recently you’d decided to tear them off completely.
Sleeves couldn’t be mandatory, after all.
“You’re hilarious Tommy” you countered, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you stood, having already decided to occupy yourself drawing circles on the bare skin of his chest with your finger.
Whatever he was doing, you figured it would help.
His skin was more tanned now than it was in the fall, soft and warm beneath your touch. Though, once the male in question took notice of your poking and prodding, he flexed dramatically.
Never too far away from catching you off guard.
“You know, I almost took these off before I gave it to you” Tommy laughed, picking at one of the threads just enough to loosen it before tearing the entire right sleeve away from the rest of the garment.
At least one of your arms was free.
When they first gave him the Color war shirts, he figured the sleeves would be a problem for you but he didn’t want to totally destroy it before you could have a chance to check.
After all, if he did that, you’d just have to wear your bathing suit all day and as much as he would have loved to see it, he’d never hear the end of it either.
“Thanks” you hummed, after your boyfriend had sufficiently freed both of your arms from the cotton prison of that stupid yellow fabric.
Though, you weren’t entirely sure that you were ready to go out there yet.
While you were a million times more comfortable with those tight ass sleeves gone, you weren’t sure that you were ready to face anyone else, much less those uptight pricks from Sunnyvale.
They already laughed at you as you passed, and left those mocking, cruel notes tacked to the outside of your cabin door.
The last thing you wanted to do was give them more fuel.
“Here, you do mine too.”
You hummed, turning your attention to Tommy at the sound of his voice, shocking yourself when you found him standing in front of you once again.
It didn’t make sense.
Still, you decided to ignore your lapse in attention when you saw the look in his face, clearly waiting for something from you.
You just weren’t sure what it was.
“No one will have time to look at you if they’re staring at the gun show” he explained, shooting you a wink as you admired what was left to your eyes of his skin as he pulled his own shirt over his head.
You thought he was kidding, of course, but you shouldn't have been surprised that Tommy knew what you were thinking before you even had to say anything. He had always had a talent for things like that.
Especially with you.
…and as goofy as his suggestion was, it wasn’t all together a bad one.
At least if you weren’t the only one who had elected to go sleeveless this year, it wouldn’t make you seem so out of place.
Besides, you weren’t the only one who hated having your arms all stifled and hidden away. He usually ripped his sleeves off too, around this time of year.
“Very funny” you allowed, not even able to keep the smile off your face as you did as he asked, letting the fabric fall to the floor without much care.
Given everything, the sleeve was the least of your problems.
After all, now that your arms were situated, you had to actually go out and engage with the rest of the camp, which in all honesty was the part you were trying to avoid the most.
“I am, aren’t I?” Tommy teased back, his hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you in, that grin on his lips again as he stared down at you.
He could be so smug.
“Nope, I lied” you tried, chewing gingerly on the inside of your lip to occupy your thoughts, the blonde’s warm breath fanning your face as he chuckled. He knew it was coming, but your venomous sarcasm never ceased to amuse him anyway.
“I’m sure you did” he grinned back, finally closing the distance between the two of you and bringing his lips down on your own.
Funny or not, you loved him and there was no getting around that.
You indulged the kiss for a while, allowing yourself to melt against the male you cared so greatly for, before you eventually came to your senses and pulled away from him, your brow furrowed.
“No fair” you grumbled, finally connecting the dots. He really thought he could get you out there with some flirting? That was playing dirty in a way that Tommy usually wouldn’t have to resort to.
Maybe he wasn’t as good at wrangling you as he thought he was.
“What?” Tommy tutted, fully aware that he’d been caught in the act, his hands up in mock defense.
Kissing his girlfriend wasn’t against the law, last time he checked.
“That’s cheating” you countered, hoisting yourself up against the nearest picnic table until you could rest your butt on the top. It was bad enough that he’d brought you out here with him, now he was bribing you with love.
It was low, even for him.
“I apologize, what was I thinking?” Tommy laughed, feigning offense as he neared you once again, taking your hands in his own and fiddling with the digits at the end of your hands now, taking his turn.
You sighed, finding it impossible to be annoyed with him even in your tantrum. If he had been anyone else, it would have been easy but for some reason, Tommy had always been different.
You liked him, even when you didn’t like anyone else.
“I don’t want to do this. Can’t we just stay here instead?” you hummed, offering him a question of your own and doing your best to give your boyfriend your most convincing puppy dog eyes, hoping that by some miracle, he may actually agree with you.
You didn’t want to do this.
You really didn’t want to do this.
Still, you knew that even if Tommy agreed to what you were proposing, it would only be a matter of time before Gary or Kurt came to fetch you to do your job. The color war was like the gospel to these people.
…and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“How about this? You help me with this, and I’ll sneak over to your cabin tonight” he offered, sure that if anything was going to get you to agree, it was that.
You hated having to sleep in your dusty cabin at night without him and even though it was technically against the rules, the idea of being able to spend the night cuddled up with the blonde was too good to pass up.
Even if the price was a bit too high for your liking.
“Fine, but I’m not happy about it” you allowed, taking his hand when he offered it and getting down from the table, only really moving after Tommy’s hand made contact with your ass in a playful slap.
“I know, I know” came his reply, like always, as he followed close behind you.
#fear street#fear street 1978#thomas slater#tommy slater#fear street x reader#fear street x ps reader#fear street x plus size reader#fear street imagine#fear street 1978 x reader#fear street 1978 x plus size reader#fear street 1978 x ps reader#fear street 1978 imagine#thomas slater x reader#thomas slater x ps reader#thomas slater x plus size reader#thomas slater imagine#tommy slater x reader#tommy slater x ps reader#tommy slater x plus size reader#tommy slater imagine
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ambivalence blurb: church - rafe cameron
a/n: well if the gif doesn't get ya i don't know what will. i wrote it just for alllll the people who asked me for it okay here it is. please enjoy. but not too much.
Warnings: the entire thing is a warning bestie it's just pure smut so don't read it if you don't want to
ambivalence series masterlist
You'd seen Rafe in a dress shirt and tie hundreds of times. Which is exactly why, with his hand traveling further up your leg under the table, you can't quite figure out why you're one second from jumping on him right here.
Ward had thrown some dinner party for the Cameron Development employees to celebrate their success the past year, and you had agreed to accompany Rafe without a second thought. When he showed up to pick you up, though, looking like this, you'd been unable to concentrate on a word said the entire dinner.
Rafe innocently slips his fingers underneath the hem of your dress, not altering his facial expression or moving his eyes away from Ward, who's in the middle of a speech.
You scoot down in your chair, trying to tell him to go further. You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, trying to contain his smirk. You bring your hand up and stroke through his hair, scratching the back of his neck. He leans back into your touch, the feeling urging both of you to continue.
He hooks a teasing finger through the waistband of your underwear, watching you lick your lips expectantly. When he leans his head down, his cologne overwhelms your senses.
"Did I tell you how good you look tonight?" he asks, his voice husky in your ear.
You swallow, breathing shallow, "Yes."
"Good, because you look really fucking good."
He sits back straight, moving his hand over slightly and finally touching you where you need him most. He licks his lips and smirks successfully when he feels how much you want him, fingers teasing your entrance. You know he's being a cocky asshole not giving you want you want, but you bite your lip and attempt to discreetly push your hips down.
"Sweetheart," he teases you, "We're in public."
"Rafe," you whine quietly, hand tugging on his hair. You give him the look, that fucking look that always gets him, and you wish you could hear what he's thinking right now. His eyes change, going from playful to serious.
"Sit still," he warns, "Sit still, and I'll take care of it, baby."
You nod rapidly, eyes begging him to do just that. He swears under his breath, shifting in his seat to shove his hips underneath the table so nobody can see what exactly you do to him. He takes a deep breath and pushes two fingers into you, listening to you inhale sharply. Thankfully, every other guest is looking toward Ward, so he doesn't worry about anyone noticing anything.
He's too focused on how fucking hot it is that you're letting him do this to you right here, right now.
You bring your cloth napkin up over the bottom half of your face, keeping your mouth open behind it as you attempt to relieve some of the pressure you feel. He continues pumping, keeping a slow rhythm so you won't make any unexpected noise. He uses his thumb to rub circles into your clit, watching your eyes flutter closed. When he sits up and pushes his fingers in even further, you just about lose it.
"Rafe," you hiss, "You have to go faster."
"If I go faster, you won't be able to control yourself," he reminds you, biting his lip as he watches you try to hide your face behind your napkin.
"I need it."
His eyes widen just a little at your words, barely nodding his head as he agrees. You sit back in the chair and he swears he's gonna come in his pants when you open your legs further under the table.
He speeds up every action; his fingers pumping in and out, and his thumb circling the spot you need it most. You hold your breath, swearing if your mouth opens even an inch, you'll let out an unholy noise.
You can feel the knot in your stomach forming quickly, not far from where Rafe wants you to be. Your grip around his hair tightens, telling him everything he needs to know. He continues his relentless pursuit, unable to contain his smirk when you clench around him and bite down on your napkin.
Your eyes squeeze shut as you come on his fingers, all your willpower being used to not make one single sound. He doesn't stop until you've ridden out your orgasm, sucking in a deep, unstable breath once you come down from it all.
"Fuck, that was hot," he grins, slowly removing his fingers from you.
"Don't you fucking dare-"
You stop when he brings his fingers up to his mouth, quickly licking them clean. You set your face in your hands, both recovering from your orgasm and shaking your head at your boyfriend.
"And my son," Ward says suddenly, shifting his focus and gaze to Rafe, who's actively removing his fingers from his mouth, "Has worked so hard. I'm incredibly proud of what he's accomplished this year, both personally and professionally."
Safe to say, Rafe sits there feeling like a fucking king. He sets his arm around the back of your chair and nods gratefully to his father, observing the people who'd turned around to look at him. You smile, praying you don't give away what had just been done to you.
Ward stops speaking a minute after, making his rounds to the tables and thanking people for coming. Rafe looks down to you, smirking mischievously.
"I need to go to the restroom," you tell him, reaching for his hand.
"Okay. I need a minute, though, baby," he says, then flickers his eyes down to his lap.
You laugh, doing a quick scan of the place, "Hurry."
"Stop looking at me, then. In fact, you go ahead. I need you out of the room if I want this to go away."
You nod, wrapping your arm around his shoulders and leaning in, pressing a kiss to the spot underneath his earlobe.
"I don't want it to go away," you whisper in his ear, "I'll take care of that in the bathroom."
You smirk and stand up, pulling your hand from his and walking toward the restrooms without looking back.
"Fucking shit," Rafe groans.
He doesn't keep you waiting long, mostly because he can't. He finds you waiting for him in the hallway and smirks, taking your hand and tugging you into the men's room. He lazily checks over the stalls, and when he finds them empty, he drags you over to the vanity. He sets his hands on your hips and lifts you up with no hesitation, hungrily connecting his lips to yours.
You accept every motion he makes, matching it with your own neediness. His hands roam shamelessly, pulling the bottom of your dress up to your waist and cups his hands around your ass.
You moan when he moves his mouth down to your neck, losing all control of himself as he feels you, smells you, tastes you.
"Rafe," you breathlessly mumble, "You didn't lock the door."
He smirks against your neck, "I just fingered you in front of my coworkers, and you're concerned about the door being locked?"
Your cheeks burn, hands tangling themselves in his hair as he continues his work on your neck. He can sense your hesitation, so he pulls himself away and hurries to the door, locking it. You smile as he starts back over to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in.
"You're so fucking hot," he mumbles into your neck, moving down to your collarbones.
You're not surprised when he starts sucking on the skin there, that being one of his favorite places to leave a hickey.
"Rafe," you gain his attention, "Need to take care of you, baby."
He nods, letting out a satisfied groan when you attach your lips to his neck. He reaches around and pulls your underwear off, tucking them into his pocket without you noticing. He smirks when he reaches between your thighs, admiring his handiwork.
"You're just a mess, sweetheart," he teases you.
"That's what you do to me," you whisper in his ear, earning a low groan from the back of his throat.
You reach for his belt, undoing the clasp followed quickly by the button on his pants. Impatiently, you reach into his boxers and stroke him a few times, grinning when he bucks his hips forward.
"Baby," his voice is weak, breathless, "Can't wait. M'serious."
"I'm right here, Rafe," you tell him, eyes daring him to take control.
He smirks as you let out a squeal when he moves you back, shoving your legs open even further. He grabs ahold of your thighs, grip so tight you're sure he'll be leaving bruises. He positions you just how he wants you, briefly taking a moment to lick his lips and observe you, ready and waiting for him.
"That's my girl," he says quietly, more to himself than to you.
The butterflies at his words mixed with the desperation you feel for him swirl around in your stomach, only calming when he finally pushes himself inside you.
You gasp as he enters you, locking your arms around his neck and pulling him as close to you as he can get.
"You okay, baby?" he whispers, nipping at your earlobe.
"Yes," you say, a little too eager, "You can move."
He nods gently against the side of your face, groaning directly in your ear when he pulls back and pushes back in. He's holding himself back, trying to cool down so he doesn't come too fast. He'd been so fucking close just watching you at the table.
"Mhm," Rafe hums, "So good, baby. Just what I needed."
He starts to thrust faster, hands moving up to your hips to pull you closer. You throw your head back, finally letting yourself make noise.
"Oh, my God," you groan.
"Yeah?" he smirks, "I like hearing you. Keep going."
You shake your head at him, but he's making you feel so good that you're willing to stroke his ego a little bit.
"I will if you will," you tease him, "Don't stop, Rafe."
"Why the fuck would I stop?" he grunts, "C'mere. Need to kiss you."
You happily oblige, feeling him bring one hand down to circle your clit as your mouth meets his. You moan into his mouth, and Rafe swears he'll come right then and there. You clench around him, tugging on his hair roughly. That's always his signal; how he knows you're holding back.
"I'm right behind you, baby," he says, pressing one last kiss to your lips before he moves to your neck, sucking on your skin in an attempt to keep him quieter.
"Rafe," you moan in his ear, feeling his grip tighten around your hips. He speeds up his fingers on your clit, shoving you over the edge. You bury your face into his neck just as he's doing to you, doing your best not to scream as you ride out your orgasm.
Rafe comes right after you; impossible for him not to given you clenching rapidly around him. His familiar groan of release pressing itself into your neck and flowing up to your ears, making you smile.
You suck in all the air you can manage to get as you sit back against the mirror, closing your eyes to try to gain some sort of composure.
"Well, shit," Rafe laughs, pulling himself out of you.
"I'm gonna need a minute," you sigh. You try to extend your legs, but they're shaking so bad that you're sure if you tried to stand, you'd fall right down.
Rafe chuckles, running his hand up the entirety of your leg and then leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips.
"Take your time, sweetheart."
You sit there and admire him as he tucks his dress shirt back into his pants and then buckles his belt, moving on to fix his hair. The hair you'd messed up while sitting at table surrounded by his coworkers. Just thinking about it makes you bite your lip.
"I'm not sure what got into you out there," you tease him, "But, you're going to have to learn to control yourself eventually."
He gapes at you, "Me? You're the one sitting there all fucking sexy and telling me you need it. That almost sent me into orbit, I'll tell you that."
"Oops," you grin.
"Oops," he mocks with a roll of his eyes, "I loved that, though. Please, don't control yourself."
You shake your head, taking hold of his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. He wraps his arms completely around you, gently pulling you toward him and toward the edge of the counter.
"C'mon, I've got you," he whispers, helping you down and using his strength to support you once your feet touch the ground.
"Okay, M'all right," you tell him, "Just hold my hand. Have you seen my underwear?"
He loops his fingers through yours, focusing on fixing your hair to hide his cheeky smirk.
"No. Haven't. Must've left them at home," he shrugged.
"Rafe, I was wearing underwear," you glare at him.
"And now you're not."
You roll your eyes, assuming he has them and letting it go. He leans down and kisses you once more before leading you to the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you.
You two walk down the hallway with shit-eating grins on your faces, the entirety of what just happened swimming around both of your heads.
"Rafe!" Ward calls when the two of you emerge from the hall.
"Come over here, son. You, too, Y/N. We need your input on a project," Ward ushers him, gripping a glass of scotch and sporting a wide smile.
"Twenty minutes, max," Rafe whispers to you, "I'm gonna need to do that again by then."
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#ambivalence#ambivalence blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#outerbanks netflix#outer banks netflix#outerbanks#outer banks
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Boom, what if they knocked down and tied up Tommy before he killed anyone (like Sam in 94) and now reader and the gang are just dragging around Tommy (scary dog privileges). And reader is just talking to him to ease their nerves and it seems like he still understands them even if he's just responding in huff, grunts, and aggressive nods
Ooh!!!! This is such a cool idea!!!! I hope you enjoy!!!
Are You in There? (Tommy Slater x Reader)
Warnings: angst, mentions of restraints and a gag, Tommy is trying to kill everyone still, possessed!Tommy, the reader and Arnie kind of sit on the sidelines while Alice and Cindy do everything :), Arnie and Alice are canon compliantly jerks, discussed murder/abandonment
Word Count: 1.5k
You sat with Tommy's head in your lap. You were trying to keep him calm by petting his head, rubbing his temples. But this wasn't just a headache you were trying to cure.
Something was seriously wrong with your boyfriend. Like, seriously wrong.
He'd gone for an axe, just before you, Cindy, Arnie, and Alice had stopped him. You'd tied him up, and even gagged him. If you didn't, he'd yell and try to bite. And if his hands were free? Well, he'd already given Arnie a nasty bruise on the cheek and he'd nearly thrown Cindy. He was like a feral dog more than your sweet Tommy, and, well, you needed to not draw attention to where the five of you had gone exploring. Especially with what was in the next room.
Really, how would you explain your boyfriend's sudden urge to kill everyone he saw? Even if you did show them the room that Alice and Cindy had found, his name on the wall, it still sounded crazy. And what would they do with him?
You shook your head. It didn't matter, because it wasn't going to happen. You were going to fix him. You'd told him that a few times. Without mobility and the ability to bite or yell, the boy in your lap settled for glares full of hatred as his only response.
It was a little jarring to see him look at you with such contempt. Usually, his eyes were soft and kind. He was nice to everyone, but he saved a special part of his sweetness for you. And now?
You sighed as you brushed your hand over his cheek, trying to will this away with your thoughts alone. This wasn't your Tommy. It looked like him, but, whoever this was, it wasn't the man that you fell in love with.
"What are we gonna do?" Cindy asked, her arms folded in front of her. You were wondering the same thing, and your heart sank when Alice said,
"I say we leave his ass." And both you and Cindy cried out at the same time,
"No!"
"We can't!" And the pair of you looked at eachother, and then at the bleached blonde. It comforted you that at least Cindy was on your side, but hurt was etched in your face as you started at Alice. You couldn't believe that she would just leave him behind. But, Arnie sided with his girlfriend,
"Did you two forget the part where he tried to axe me? And then punched me in the face? Or, Cindy, when he fucking threw you?" And you grimaced. Yeah, Tommy hadn't exactly done himself any favors when it came to getting people on his side. But, you looked up at them, and then directly at Alice.
"You saw his name on that wall, Alice. Whatever this is- whatever that is," You said, and pointed towards the room. "It's not Tommy. It's the witch." And you knew, you knew, that you were right. You could feel it. And you knew she did too. How else could you explain everything? Nurse Lane had been right about everything so far, so you grabbed the book from her. She yelled,
"Hey!" When you snatched it but you didn't care. You flipped through it, and read from it,
"She reaches from beyond the grave to make good men her wicked slaves- See! This is what I mean! Tommy's possessed." You said, and, the three of them looked between eachother. You knew Alice and Arnie, to some degree, believed in the witch. But Cindy?
"Don't be ridiculous. The witch isn't real." And you gave her a glare. You gestured towards the room, and then asked,
"Oh, so did that just develop over time? Listen to yourself, Cindy! That's witchcraft!" You yelled, and Tommy shook in your lap. Your rising voice seemed to be riling him up, and you quickly shushed him. You stroked his face, trying to calm him, but he didn't calm so easily. He huffed and shook, but when you started scratching his scalp, in a place you knew he liked, he seemed to falter for a second. He sighed, and you watched as he settled. It made part of your heart swell, even if his eyes didn't soften.
"So- So, what if it is the witch?" Alice started, and you looked up in surprise. Everyone looked to her, and she continued with, "Well, Nurse Lane- Nurse Lane tried to kill Tommy. Maybe, we should-" And you couldn't believe what she was saying. First leaving him and now killing him? You stared at her in shock, and you were quick to yell,
"No!" And, thank God, Cindy agreed with you. She was quick to ask,
"Are you crazy? You want to kill someone? Kill Tommy?" And, you swore that Cindy was possibly the only one with sense between the three of them. Already, you were missing Tommy's even-tempered mind. Quickly, she tried to defend herself,
"Well, what else are we supposed to do with psycho here?" She said, gesturing towards him. You broke in, your voice even as you said,
"We help him. We break the curse." Your voice was serious, even if Arnie scoffed. You glared at him, and your voice was almost deadly as you stared at him and said, "He would do it for you." You paused, looking at Cindy before settling on Alice. "Tommy would do it if it was any of you." And neither Alice or Arnie seemed to have a smart remark to reply to that with. They knew it was true. Tommy was just like that. He wouldn't even give it a second thought. Even if he didn't believe in the witch, or her stupid curse.
"Well, how exactly are we supposed to break the curse?" Arnie said, and you didn't even have to answer. Alice, from memory, said in a deadpan voice,
"By cutting off her cursed hand, she keeps her grip upon the land." And then you watched as she let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead. It seemed the situation was weighing heavily on everyone. "We have to find Sarah Fiers hand and put it back with the rest of her body." Alice said, and the four of you looked between eachother. Yeah, this wasn't exactly the treasure hunt you had planned for later on in the week. Sarcastically, Arnie said,
"Great. This is gonna be so fun."
***
Getting Tommy up had been an ordeal all in itself. He'd thrashed, squirmed, and basically tried to harm anyone around him in any way he could. And getting him through the crawlspace you'd found behind the desk? Yeah, right. So, you and Arnie sat in the creepy room with all the creepy names, with Tommy's head back in your lap. At first, you'd offered to watch him by yourself, but the three of them had each given you a glance.
Getting him restrained between the four of them had been difficult, but leaving him with just you? Yeah, no way. So, Arnie sat a few feet away with his back against the wall, playing with a loose string of his tank top, just in case Tommy got loose. You, on the other hand, were talking to Tommy.
"Y'know, after all this is over, I bet the witch would make a great Halloween costume." You said, rambling on about anything and everything that came to your mind. You were trying to understand the curse more. The whole 'wicked slaves' thing was sort of vague. Part of you wondered if Tommy was even still there, or if it was the witch inside him. But, you'd started to lean towards the former a little bit. Tommy grunted. It was muffled behind the gag, but that wasn't the first time.
He seemed to be almost reacting to some of the things you said, even if the reaction wasn't always kind. When you argued earlier, he'd gotten riled up. But, when you talked to him like this, all he did was let out little grunts and huffs.
You stared down at him. At his strawberry blonde hair and his crystal blue eyes. He had a cut jaw, and nice cheekbones. You even smiled as you traced the dimple in his chin. He was your kind, sweet, perfect boyfriend. And you weren't going to let a stupid witch have him.
"Are you in there, Tommy?" You whispered, tracing his jaw. You just wanted to know, wanted some sort of sign. Something solid. Something sure. But, before you could ask him something else, Arnie let his hands fall to his lap with a clap and said,
"Can you not get all," He interrupted himself with a gesture of his hands, and you gave him a look. Really, sometimes, you didn't know what Alice saw in him.
"Are you gonna be an ass all night?" You asked, and, to your surprise, Tommy seemingly huffed in agreement. It made you smile, and, to you, that was as good of a confirmation as any.
#fear street#fear street 1978#fear street tommy slater#tommy slater fear street#tommy slater#fear street tommy#tommy fear street#tommy slater x reader#thomas slater x reader#thomas slater
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pretty boy
Characters: Sub!Childe, Sub!Xiao x Dom GN!reader (separately)
Genre: smut/NSFW, costume play, cussing, begging, spanking, thigh riding, choking, mirror play, degradation (TW: mean asf to Childe and blood included)
Note: writing smut is so different from reading HAHSHFKFE;; since I'm still inexperienced, I decided to experiment with 2 of my favorite boys first. Enjoy!
Now playing: TENDER - Erode
---
Childe dressed in a bunny girl suit.
The upper half of his body bent over, his chest heaving on the bed. Childe's arms were bound behind him, shackled together with a handcuff.
Sitting beside him, you sneered at the sight. "Sticking your ass up like a whore. Waiting for someone to fuck you senseless?" Without warning, you swung your arm in wide motion and connected with his ass to spank him. Childe's body jolted from the impact, erupting a heavy moan as well. His bottom half shivering, as if he was wagging his cute little bunny tail that was attached to the costume.
"You liked that? Looking like a bitch in a heat." Smacking him numerous times earned more lewd noises from him.
Childe's breathing labored as he glanced at you. He beseeched with his gaze, waiting in anticipation. He rubbed his thighs together in a hasty manner to augment friction between his pantyhose and erected manhood. "M-more."
You smirked at the bewitched state he got himself into just by your spanks. Feigning a dull expression, "More? Why don't you do something about it yourself?"
Childe gradually stood up, his desperation burgeoning every second. With an ungainly movement, he mounted himself on your thigh. As his length came in contact with your lap, Childe let out another cry.
"I didn't even touch you, slut." You chuckled as you observed him straddling on your thigh. Though, his advance was far from being graceful since he had his hands restrained. You still considered it adorable of him to take the initiative.
Like a rabbit in their heat cycle, Childe rubbed his dick against your skin. His hips bounced back and forth, each stroke bestowing surges of pleasure throughout his body. Mouth agape, Childe does not shy away when it comes to expressing his moans.
You felt chills traversing down your spine as you watch him fuck your lap, his thighs clamping onto yours as if clinging onto dear life. There was something so exhilarating about seeing Childe so fixated on one of your mere body parts. He was eagerly using your thigh as an object to appease his sexual urges.
As his limbs grew restless, Childe lost his balance with nothing to grab. To secure him in place, you rested your hands on the sides of his waist.
You pressed down, causing his cock to burrow further into your skin. Startled by the development in pleasure, his head flew back as he groaned, back arching. Childe maintained his pace as he vigorously grinds against your lap. You assaulted his bared neck with a relentless bite, welcoming every vibration palpitating through his throat coming from his lascivious moans.
Blood trickled down from where you nibbled him, tasting iron in your mouth. Your chest reverberated a dark chuckle when you pulled away to relish the mark you left on the body that tacitly belonged to you.
Tracing the mark with your thumb, Childe eventually lowered his head. Those lustful eyes met yours. You shot back a glare, "Did I ask you to look at me?" Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you forcefully tugged his head back, drawing an alarming yelp from him. "Keep that little head of yours concentrated on grinding, hmm?"
"Y-yes... I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Childe gasped out. You ignored his pleas and resumed to persistently gnawing his neck at various spots.
As you covered his pale neck with bruises, Childe's pitch grew higher. The urgency in his vehement thrusts motioned he was approaching orgasm, "Gonna come!"
Your fingers laced around his neck, "Who said you could?" Tightening your grip, Childe began to choke as his air passage was slowly shrinking.
As his eyes rolled back, Childe continuously beg in between his weeps, "Please let me come! I want to come, so badly! Please, I've been a good boy."
"You're such a dirty whore for me." You grasped a steady grip on his ass and fondled with it, "Hurry up, before I change my mind."
Childe humped harshly against your skin, "Thank you, thank you so much." Even you could feel the severe abrasion forming on your thigh from his efforts.
Achieving orgasm, a puddle formed in between his legs which finally caused him to slow down. His essence oozed under the costume. Childe collapsed forward, forehead resting on your shoulder as he panted, sweat dripping down. He carried on with perpetual murmuring words of gratitude, as if in a trance.
"You dirty, pretty thing."
Xiao dressed in a maid outfit.
His attractive slim neck was embellished with a jade green ribbon that coordinated with the highlight on his hair. Standing in front of a full-length mirror, Xiao shyly concealed his gaze by peering down. He kept his hands occupied by fiddling with the frills from the dress.
You stood beside Xiao as you admired how fitting he looked in that costume, "Lift the dress up." Your voice firm. It was an order, not a request.
Xiao quietly complied with your words, picking up the one side of the hem.
"Do it properly." Your tone grew stern, making Xiao whimper silently to himself and pulled up the dress completely to expose what lies under.
You hummed pleasantly, "So you even wore lace underwear? What a slut." Shuddering him to the core with your mild degradation, it manifested a tent beneath the white underwear.
A frigid breeze made its way through the aperture in his thighs that were exposed, causing Xiao to squeeze them shut. The weights on his legs that wore knee-high stockings shifted from one to another. You leisurely walked behind him, resting your chest on his back.
Your arms snaked around him, enough to make Xiao aroused as he felt sparks from your sensual touch. Burying your head in his shoulder, you immersed yourself in his scent. Your breath tickled his skin, inflicting lust in Xiao even further.
"You're so pretty, such a good boy for me." Muttering praises to make up for your mean bearings earlier, your hands explored his heated body in the process. Viewing the mirror, a damp spot surfaced on his underwear. It was a living exhibit of how turned on he was. Reaching the bottom where his member lies, you slipped your hand into the underwear, earning a yelp from Xiao.
Your fingers danced on his already wet tip, an attempt to provoke him further. Your touch was intentionally brief, never staying too long. His tip never failed to twitch cutely to seize your attention. Xiao desperately thrusts his hips forward, seeking to engage with your hand.
"Impatient? Then beg for it." You whispered into his ear, watching him succumb to your handlings. Raising his head by tilting his chin with your other hand, Xiao's shriveled pupils met your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. His flushed face was accompanied by eyes brimming with tears threatening to spill out.
"P-please... please make me feel good. Please, please, please!" Chant of pleas cascaded from Xiao's lips, his voice quivering. It was almost impossible to resist consuming him whole right on the spot.
"So cute..." You kissed his hair. Seeing how hard he tried, you ought to show some leniency. "Keep holding the dress up for me." Pulling down his underwear, you instantly switched the gear. You worked on stroking his length in a calculated rhythm. Xiao gasped as his knees buckled and his entire body convulsed. You felt his cock pulsating around your palm, signifying how much he craved and depended on your touch alone to send him to his climax.
Xiao mewled and leaned forward. His trembling legs could no longer support him. You took note of this and hoisted him up with a tight embrace around his waist, meanwhile hastening your pace around his stimulated cock. You made sure to also rub the head with your thumb once in awhile.
Succeeding sweet moans coming from Xiao saturated the room as he fits in your name in between, "I'm going, to.. c-come." He formed incoherent sentences in the nigh of his sexual gratification. Xiao instinctively grabbed your arm and let go of the hem. Distressed to hold onto something as pleasure throbbed throughout his body, his nails dug into your skin.
"Going to come for me like a good boy?" You kissed the nape of his neck. He nodded fervently, hips once again jerking forward as he shot strings of cum, permitting one final deep moan in the process. The white substance splattered against the mirror. His moan transitioned to series of pants as he drooled, body slumping, and eventually went numb.
"Look at how beautiful you are."
#childe smut#childe x reader#childe genshin impact#xiao smut#xiao x reader#xiao genshin impact#genshin impact smut#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines
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Laced
Tom Holland x Reader | smut (18+ only below the cut)
Summary: Entry for @worldoftom ’s writing challenge #lolbrosgetsicktoo. Based on the following prompt:
» NSFW! Tom has some tummy issues and misses y/n's bday party. He is feeling really sad about it, so after the party is over he video chats with her. She asks him if he'd like to see all the presents she got for her bday. He says yes. Turns out she also got some sexy lingerie. Cheeky Tom, now feeling a bit better, asks her if she can put them on for him to watch. And she does. note: it can be either sexy video chat time or 'i'll be over at yours in a bit, don't take that off’
Words: 1.3k.
Warnings: very explicit sexual language, heavy dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation.
“Hi, handsome,” you purred sweetly at your phone.
“Hi, gorgeous,” Tom smiled sleepily at you. His hair was sticking out in every direction and his naked chest had crease marks from having stayed in bed all day. You smiled softly when you thought about how cozy he looked right now. You had just finished tidying up downstairs. After winding down from the party, doing your skincare, and putting on your softest satin robe, your entire body tingled with the urge to cuddle right up against your warm boyfriend. You cuddled your pillow tighter instead.
“How are you feeling now?” You asked him sympathetically.
Tom had come down with a stomach bug not twelve hours before your birthday party, unfortunately. It had started as body ache and fatigue but quickly developed into violent vomiting. You had stopped at his place earlier in the afternoon to drop off medicine, mint tea, and some light, homemade soup. Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t recovered by the time your party started. You could tell he looked well, however, not as pale and tired as he had looked before.
“So much better, love,” he said. “The tea you brought me really soothed my stomach and I was able to sleep and eat this afternoon.”
“That’s great, baby! I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”
“I missed you today, love,” Tom pouted, “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”
“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “These things happen. Do you want to see the presents I got?”
“Yes!” He cheered. “Let’s see them.”
Excitedly, you gathered all boxes and bags and packages that your friends and family had brought to you and proceeded to show Tom your gifts. You pulled out gift cards, jewelry, clothes, and books. Tom smiled with love in his eyes as he watched you talk about your gifts and how much fun you had with your loved ones.
“Oh,” you exclaimed suddenly, “and Olivia got me some beautiful lingerie from the place she works at!” You waved the baby pink lace around in front of the camera and Tom’s eyebrows shot up.
“Wait!” He sat up against the headboard and licked his lips quickly. “Let me see it.”
You chuckled and set the pieces down on the bed. You sat up as well and positioned your phone on your nightstand so you could show off the pretty fabric with both hands. You picked first the bralette, holding it up with each of your pointer fingers hooked under each of the straps so Tom could see its shape perfectly. The lace was incredibly delicate and thin. Tom’s breathing picked up and his mouth watered at the thought of you wearing it. He thought about how your nipples would be visible right through the material. He thought about your hard nubs poking out in arousal. He thought about running his tongue over them, over the lace, sucking and wetting your brand new lingerie as you thrashed in pleasure under his mouth. And then you set the bra down and picked up the lacy thong the same way and Tom had to grope himself to relieve some pressure. His lips parted in awe. His eyes were dark and you chuckled at his aroused state.
“Holy shit, that’s tiny,” Tom breathed out gruffly. The lace on the panties matched the bralette’s and it was held together by the thinnest spaghetti straps he had ever seen. He was dying to see them stretched out over your hips. He squeezed his erection in his boxers once and groaned.
“You okay, baby?” You chuckled.
“No,” he groaned again. “Put that on for me, darling? Please?”
“Ooh,” you singsonged, “You want me to put on a little show?” You picked up the lingerie again and pulled off the tags. “But I thought I was the birthday girl?”
Smiling devilishly you sneaked a hand under your robe and pulled your underwear off, only to slowly slip the dainty thong up your smooth legs. You teased him, pulling the lace slowly and hiding it under your silky robe. You turned around then, sat on your knees with your back to him, and let the robe slide down your arms to pool around your waist. You let him watch your naked back as you put on the bra. Even though he was completely silent, you knew he was attentively watching your every move.
You turned your head to the side to glance at him over your shoulder and felt arousal shoot down your core at once. Tom had repositioned his phone to stand farther away but in between his legs. You could see him propped against the headboard, his naked chest rising and falling as he breathed raggedly, his abs clenching, and an impressive tent as his erection poked hard against the material of his boxers.
“Baby,” you purred seductively, “is that for me?” He groaned in response and grabbed and squeezed himself over his boxers.
“You know it is, darling,” he replied gruffly. In a quick movement, he removed his underwear completely, showing off his thick erection. It was your turn to drool. You wanted nothing more than to fall mouth-first right on his dripping cock. You watched hungrily as he took himself in hand and started to stroke slowly, lightly. “Turn around for me, love.”
You did turn around and untangled your robe to finally show him all that you had to offer. You ran your hands up and down your thighs, stroked the skin on your hips right underneath the straps of your thong, and up your torso until you cupped your breasts. Tom cursed and started stroking himself harder as you massaged your own breasts, getting more and more turned on. You pinched your nipples and moaned. He cursed again.
“Pull your tits out, darling,” he groaned, “let me see.” And you did it. You pulled the lacy cups down and continued to tease yourself. “Good girl,” Tom moaned, “so good- ah.”
His praise and the wet noises of the frantic movements of his hands were driving you insane. Your whole body was burning in arousal and you couldn’t help but slide a hand down your body and into your panties.
“Yeah, darling,” he murmured, “play with your wet little clit for me.” His hand was flying over his erection now. He was incredibly wet too and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. “You love watching this cock get wet for you don’t you?”
You nodded eagerly, your own hand working fast on your pussy.
“I know you do, darling. You love sitting on it too. Always want to sit on it, every chance you get.”
“Fuck, Tommy!” You cried. “I want it so bad.”
“God,” he groaned, “I’m not gonna last. Get on all fours for me, darling. I want to see your ass swallow that tiny piece of lace you’ve got on.”
You turned around like he requested. Then, you arched your back, spread your knees apart, and slid down onto the bed slowly so he could see the thong slide up between your pussy lips. You heard his moans get louder and the pleasure it elicited in you had you grinding your throbbing core on the sheets.
“Holy, shit,” he panted, “you’re unreal, love. I’m gonna come- ah, fuck - and then I’m gonna drive over there and absolutely rail that hungry pussy.”
And then he came on a loud moan and you turned your head to see him shoot up and onto his own hand. You watched attentively as his cock spurted white all over his abs. You were about to express how badly you wanted to lick him clean when he sprung from bed in earnest and grabbed his phone.
“I’ll be there in fifteen. Keep my pussy wet for me, love.”
#tom holland smut#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfic#lolbrosgetsicktoo#it's 1am but oh well
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summer heat → jjk
–pairing: twin!jungkook x reader
–genre: fluff, mature (? but no smut), drabble, a minor attempt at humor, best friend’s twin brother type of thing
–words: 2.9k
–warnings: explicit language, sexual tension, tiny bit of humiliation, a hint of jungkook and reader having some sort of “history” if u squint hard enough
–summary: in an attempt to calm you down and prevent your mood from swinging due to the blazing heat, your best friend decides to go out and buy you some ice cream. you’re shocked, however, when he quickly returns and looks different, making you see him in an entirely new light and leaving you trying to resist the urge to give in to your raging hormones and just jump on him.
–a/n: i was thinking of this scenario in the shower but didn’t have the brain power to turn it into a full length story so i might just add this to a pile of drabbles that i may or may not develop heh + ive been in my jungkook feels too lately sigh + also this is unedited
permanent taglist: @100percent-dum-dum @mochisjoon @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd
It was a scorching hot summer’s day. Sweat was beginning to trickle down your temples and your shirt was getting stuck to your skin, causing an irking feeling of discomfort. Looking around, you quickly grabbed an empty long folder from your best friend’s messy desk and began fanning yourself to cool down. The two of you were just there, sitting in his room in a not-so-comfortable silence.
You were currently plopped down onto a chair with your legs resting on the desk in front of you, too lazy to come up with ideas to kill your boredom.
It was a tradition for your family to travel every summer and visit a new country you hadn’t been to, but this year you had to pass the plane tickets and sight-seeing due to your best friend, Junghan, asking begging you to help him out with a month-long film project. You didn’t have the heart to decline, so you told your parents you’d stay behind and help him out which resulted in you having to stay over at Junghan’s place for the rest of the summer.
You had to admit though, a small part of you felt disinclined to stay because the project sounded like it would’ve been a tedious workload, but working with your best friend was so much more fun than you’d imagined and even the project itself turned out to be enjoyable. So far, your summer break has been spent filming and hanging out with Junghan—though hanging out usually meant staying in his room and watching romcoms all day while crying over fictional characters, ranting about how you two would never meet such perfect men in real life. It was great.
Until the air conditioner broke down.
You glanced over at Junghan, who seemed to be just as spiritless as you were while he sat in front of a fan, eyes looking empty and distant.
“I told you the air conditioner needed to be fixed,” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling, completely missing the harsh glare he sent you.
“I said I was gonna get it fixed,” He replies and turns back to the fan, his voice quieting down a little, “But the number for repair wouldn’t answer.”
“Right,” You muttered absent-mindedly, eyes staring at the ceiling while your mind was too busy trying to come up with suggestions to beat the heat, “We could go to the pool?”
“Closed,” Junghan grunts, “The mall?”
“As if we’d both drive in this state,” You rolled your eyes as you tried to get your shirt to stop sticking to your skin. Junghan glances over at you when he hears you grumbling, one of the many cues that you were beginning to feel peevish. Deciding that it was pointless to keep tugging on your shirt, you opt to take it off instead.
“You don’t mind do you?” You asked before completely removing your shirt, only leaving you in your bralette. Though you knew he never did because of the countless times he’s helped you change and pick out different outfits, you always asked out of politeness. Additionally, his zero interest in women made you feel much safer and comfortable enough to undress around him.
“I really don’t care,” He says and stands up. You hear him rumbling for a moment while you were neatly folding your shirt, and seconds later you recognize the jingling sound of keys.
“Where are you going?” You asked.
“The nearby grocery. You’re about to get grumpy and I am not going to listen to a rambling bitch for the rest of the day,” He says, rubbing his temples as he makes his way to the door.
“So you’re just gonna leave me here?” You asked, too exhausted to even glance at him. He probably wasn’t, you only asked for the dramatic effect.
“No, dumbass. I’m just gonna go and buy ice cream. See you in a bit.”
And with that Junghan leaves and closes the door shut. Only a few minutes later after the sound of the engine had gone did you decide to exert a little effort and move over to his previous spot to sit in front of the fan, the air immediately cooling your skin. You sighed in relief and grabbed a few tissues to wipe your temples dry before grabbing your phone and texting Junghan to buy some lemonade, followed by a second text telling him you’d pay him back once he returned.
You were surprised to hear, not even ten minutes later, that the car was already back and pulling up in the driveway. It couldn’t have been Junghan’s parents as they were out working, and it was only you and Junghan around—not like you two had many friends who would come and visit. Instead of rationalizing with yourself on how Junghan came back home in supersonic speed, you decide to drop it and wait for him to come up back to his room.
Someone knocks on the door, causing your brows to furrow in confusion. Since when did Junghan knock?
“Come... in?” You answer, though it came out more as a question. Your head turns at the sound of the door opening, and your eyes widen at seeing Junghan standing by the doorframe.
Looking oddly different.
“Dude,” You stood up from your place and stared him up and down, “Is that what you were really wearing when you went out?”
His eyebrows raise in shock and you catch his eyes taking a quick glimpse from your chest before quickly looking back at the perplexed look on your face, a small smirk forming on lips. You decide to ignore it.
“What a warm ‘welcome home’,” he chuckles.
“You didn’t answer me,” you replied, still oblivious to the difference in his tone.
He was wearing an all-black ensemble—a black cap, a black leather jacket, black pants that outlined his toned thighs (how have you never noticed?), and some chunky black boots—a huge contrast to his normally colorful and baggy clothing. You were genuinely curious because you hadn’t noticed what he looked like before he left the house as you were too tired and lazy to even look up and say goodbye.
“Uh, yeah. This is what I was wearing?” He narrows one of his eyes, looking confused, “Why?”
“I don’t know… since when did you wear all black?”
“Since way back then? I don’t know,” He replies, and you now noticed how his voice was unusually low. Junghan steps inside and averts his eyes from you, looking around in his room before scrimmaging through drawers as if in search for something.
“What are you looking for?” You asked, folding your arms and following him around.
“A charger,” He replies, and a chill runs down your spine at the sound of his voice. You thought maybe you’d detect how he was just trying to change his manner of speaking, but it was effortlessly low; like he wasn’t faking it or anything. It was weird because Junghan normally sounded a little more high pitched.
“What charger?”
“A laptop charger, mine broke,” He continues searching and not once does he meet your eyes.
“Oh okay, let me help you then,” You begin to look around and help him search, “Though I don’t know what it looks like, I’ll let you know if I see a charger.”
He looks up at you and smiles, but you don’t catch him watching you as you were already busy searching, “Thanks.”
The two of you continue searching in silence, though occasionally you’d look up and glance at Junghan. What exactly was he doing? Was this for his film? Is he supposed to be in character? This new look and manner of talking that he somehow adopted after a quick trip to the grocery store did things to you. Every time he grunted in annoyance after a failed search, something in your stomach would twist and you found yourself suddenly feeling drawn, or maybe even more than drawn, to your best friend. Your gay best friend.
You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts.
Only a few minutes later did you find something that looked like a charger hiding underneath a pile of unfolded clothes before presenting it to Junghan, “Is it this?”
“Yes! Exactly that,” He jumps up from crouching over one of the drawers at the bedside and walks over to you, “Thank you.”
“Yeah, sure. I don’t know why you took such a long time searching for something in your room, though,” You rolled your eyes.
“My room?” He smiles, voice a little deeper but with a hint of amusement.
God, you could just jump on him right now.
“Yeah?” You knit your brows, “And stop doing that!”
“Stop doing what?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed so he was looking up at you. He leans back a bit a folds his arms, a smile still tugging on the corner of his mouth.
Maybe it was the summer heat doing things to your head and making you think about all these things that you never thought you’d ever want to do with your gay best friend, but he seemed so in character it was actually beginning to bother you. What store did he go to exactly? And where the hell is the ice cream?
“That! What’s up with your voice? And your outfit? You look so different, it’s weird,” You folded your arms as if to mirror him.
“Weird, huh?” He asks and looks at his clothing before looking back at you.
“Not in a bad way. It looks good, it’s just not you,” You squirmed slightly before shaking your head to snap out of it, “I don’t know what store you went to that made you look like this—and congrats I guess, if you’re trying to switch up your fashion, but you completely missed the ice cream, so good luck trying to handle this rambling bitch.”
He laughs at the words “rambling bitch” and oh god that is not what his laughter sounded like before. When did the sound of his laugh sound so deep and sultry? You subconsciously sucked on and bit your lip at the sound of his laughter, trying your best not to visibly drool in front of him. He catches your subtle action and his brow raises at the sight.
“Despite all the things you said, you think this looks good?” A playful smile rests on his face and your heart beats erratically at his expression.
“Y-yeah, I don’t know,” You mumbled. He shifts on the edge of the bed to move closer to you.
“And because there’s no ice cream, you’re going to turn into some rambling…” He reaches his hand out, the back of his fingers feeling the skin on your exposed waist before resting his hand on your back to pull you in closer.
“…person?” he continues, brows raised and eyes staring intently at yours, not using the vulgar word you had just used to describe yourself (or the word he had just called you before he left to go to the store).
“I...um, we’ll see,” you replied, and he only chuckles deeply. Your voice had transformed into a murmuring mess and it annoyed you, but you couldn’t really do anything about it, right now he reminded you so much of—
“I think you look good too, you know. Maybe I did miss you a lot more than I thought I did,” he whispers, pulling you in even more so you were now standing between his thighs.
Missed you? After an eight minute trip to the grocery store?
You didn’t question it. Your mind was blanking out, malfunctioning, even. Here was your best friend, your gay best friend (as you had to keep reminding yourself), placing his hands on your bare skin in a way that you knew wasn’t going to turn out to be so innocent. Right now you were extremely attracted and possibly even turned on by whatever the fuck he was doing, all you could do to save yourself was blame it on the heat. Was this absolutely weird? Hell yes. Did you want to stop him? Fuck no.
Were you now completely devoid of all reason and logic?
Definitely.
Softly, he tugs on your arm and pulls you into him so you were now sitting on his lap with your hand resting on his chest. One of his hands was still attached to your waist, the other was resting itself on the bed, gripping on a blanket.
Chills run down your spine for the second time now as his mouth moves closer to your ear, “Lucky for you I know the perfect way to handle rambling bitches.”
Your breath hitches for a moment and Junghan moves back to face you, his lips grazing your cheeks a little before you meet each other’s gaze. The summer heat was definitely nothing compared to this, but you didn’t mind. Your faces were only mere centimeters apart now and you could’ve sworn he was beginning to lean in by the look in his eyes, which were now fixated on your lips.
Seriously, you could just grab him by the collar right now and speed things up. He’s the one who pulled you in first, anyway, you just wanted to get things going. Though you haven’t exactly a clue as to where this would end, you wished he would hurry up a little to find out.
But for some strange reason, your senses were enveloped with the distinct smell of a signature fragrance that you knew did not belong to Junghan and it snapped you out of your thoughts. The scent was strong enough to flash some memories back in your mind, making you frown. Did he use this perfume on purpose? Or was your mind just playing tricks on you? In a flash, you could suddenly think straight and you couldn’t help it, the moral side of your brain had turned far stronger than your currently raging hormones (thank goodness). Something was definitely off.
“But, Junghan… aren’t you… gay?” You asked, your voice trailing off a little.
His eyes widen and he pulls back from you. He stares at you for a few seconds before it hits him, and he starts erupting in laughter. You narrowed your eyes at him and got off his lap, moving over to the side and sitting beside him instead.
“Junghan?” He stresses on the name. You’re staring at him blankly now, like you knew he was just messing with you. His laughter eventually dies down and he places a hand on your thigh, though it seemed much more innocent now, “I’m so sorry, ____, you’ve got the wrong person.”
With one hand, he quickly grabs the blanket off the bed. The back of his other free hand endearingly caresses your jaw, and you notice how he lingers for a while as he moves a bit lower down to your neck—before wrapping the fabric around you and covering your whole torso with it. Your face immediately turns pink as you clutched onto the blanket to further cover yourself, feeling slightly humiliated, though you were still confused.
“Wrong person? What do you mean?”
“I was wondering why you had no shirt on, I thought that was just a regular thing for you now. But it’s probably cause you’re more comfortable around my brother, huh?”
“Your brother…?”
“Has it really been that long?” He chuckles, and instantly your mind began connecting the pieces together. Could it actually be him? You haven’t seen him in years, and no one even bothered telling you he was coming back today. No way, surely this was Junghan playing a joke on you.
“I’m not Junghan. I’m his twin brother, Jungkook. Remember?”
You hastily stood up in defense, still clutching the blanket close to your chest, “Shut the fuck up, Junghan. No one said anything about Jungkook coming back today!”
Junghan Jungkook only laughs and stands up, the melodious sound filling the room, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching the wide open bedroom door.
“What a shame, but it was a surprise. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming home today,” He folds his arms, “And if I am Junghan, then who is that?” He points at the doorframe and true enough, Junghan was standing there holding grocery bags in his arms wearing his usual oversized colorful jacket and khaki colored pants.
You and Junghan both looked at each other with mouths dropped down to the floor before you looked back at Jungkook, who had the same smirk tugged on his lips, clearly amused at the whole situation.
Jungkook bends forward and leans in to your face, his voice in a lower tone but still audible enough for his brother to hear, “Probably shouldn’t take your top off so leisurely around the house anymore, huh?” He grins and winks at you, causing you wince and force an awkward smile, internally cursing yourself at everything that just happened.
“Anyways, I should probably rest up in my room. See you around,” Jungkook flashes you a smile before placing a chaste kiss on your (now dry, because your body had frozen up) forehead before walking away from you, taking the charger and dangling it in his other hand. He taps his confused looking brother on the shoulder before turning his head back to take one last look at you before walking out, leaving you and Junghan staring at each other in shock.
Junghan walks in slowly and sets the bags of grocery on the floor, shutting the door behind him.
“What the fuck just happened?” He asks you, eyes wide in anticipation.
Your mind replays everything that had happened between you two. Was Jungkook really just about to kiss you minutes before? Heart racing, you clutch on your chest from underneath the blanket he had covered you with. No way was Jungkook back. No way is he back and looking even more attractive than he did the last time you saw him. Not when you had just gotten over your small crush on him a couple of years ago.
The heat returns to your body, but it mainly pools on your cheeks. You look back at your best friend, but no words of explanation come up.
“Believe me, I’m asking myself the same thing.”
↣ all rights reserved © 2021 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.
#bts#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jjk#bts jk#jungkook x reader#bts oneshot#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook imagines#bts fluff#bangtan smut#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#bts au#bts x reader#bts x you#jjk smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fluff
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Come With Me
Culinary major! Soobin x food vlogger! reader; just some teeth rotting fluff
Word Count: 3.35k words
Mellow speaks: So I finally completed this long overdue and super fun request!!! Honestly, writing this was just so amazing, and I kinda drew Y/N based on my own self, so I hope you enjoy reading it!!
Rushing into his apartment, Soobin didn't waste a single minute in discarding his bag on the floor, rushing towards his laptop and turning it on. As the screen booted, the final-year culinary major prayed to the gods for the livestream to not have started yet. The winner of the contest from last month was to be announced at the beginning of the stream, and even though Soobin didn't have any hopes of him winning, he couldn't help the tiny voice at the back of his head saying, "What if?."
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a voice, sweet and velvety as always. There you were, on his screen, the biggest of smiles plastered on your face, making him feel warm all over. Y/N L/N, his favorite food vlogger in the world, ready to start another livestream. Soobin had always been more of a silent supporter, his introverted self being too shy to even post a comment under any of your videos, partly because you had a habit of replying to as many of those comments as possible, and he knew for a fact that he would combust on the spot if you were to ever reply to his praises of you.
You see, he greatly admired your love for food and your wanderlust. He was also a great fan of the way you spoke, and the way you articulated your ideas and thoughts. Truth be told, he genuinely liked you, and not just your voyager self. Watching your videos over the years, he had found himself developing a small crush on you, knowing full well that it was probably just him being starstruck. So, gathering all the bravery he had, the boy had finally pressed "Send" on the application form for the competition on the last day, after contemplating it for God knows how long.
There had been only one question on the form, asking respondents to describe what food meant to them. A smile had graced Soobin's lips as you answered it, pouring in his most sincere thoughts on everything culinary. What had pushed him to participate, you ask? It had been the prize, of course. A chance to hang out with none other than you yourself, through a one-on-one video call. He had always wanted to see you in person, to tell you how much your vlogs meant to him. How they had helped discover his own love for food, had helped him find his happiness in the kitchen.
And that had brought him to right now, biting on his fingernails as he listened to your regular introduction, one that he knew by heart and repeated after you, subconsciously. "Hey my food-holics! How are all of you doing today? Hale and hearty, I hope!," you said, following up quickly with a brief overview of the contest, before announcing the winner, as Soobin waited with bated breath. "All your answers were amazing, and I could relate to so many of them! It really sucks that we can only have one winner, since you're all winners to me!," you smiled, and he caught himself copying your expression. "So now, the winner of the contest, and the person who gets to be my new friend, is @aglio_olive!!," you exclaimed, clapping your hands as your eyes crinkled up in joy.
The fact that you had just announced him as the winner of registered belatedly, as Soobin was busy gushing over how adorable you had looked while clapping. He felt his mouth drop open, finding it hard to focus on what you said next. "I'll be contacting you via email shortly," you had said, and that was all it took for the rest of the livestream to go by in a blur for him, as he waited for your mail, checking and re-checking his inbox every two minutes. But it wasn't until the next day that he finally received what he had been peeling his eyes out for. An email from your official account (or that's what he figured), informing him that the meeting would take place on the coming Saturday, at 6:00 pm. Now all he had to do was wait three days, but it was easier said than done.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Soobin was equal parts bubbling with excitement and panicking with nerves. Reluctant to trust his own fashion choices, he had called over his best friend, Yeonjun, hoping to get some much needed guidance. "Should I wear this suit? Or will simple tracks be better?," he had asked, making the older boy shake his head as he patted him on the back. "My friend, Y/N's neither your professor, nor your friend. You're meeting them for the first time, so why don't you just wear something comfortable, that would make them feel at ease too?," he smirks, throwing a plain blue hoodie his way.
As the clock struck 6:00, Soobin found himself seated at his study table, ready to start the meeting. He had even prepared cue cards to help him if he got stuck, and they were propped conveniently next to the laptop. He reached out for them, but just at that moment, his screen came alive with someone waving at him with a smile on their face. Awestruck, he simply waved back, too tongue-tied to say anything. "Wow," he thought to himself, "They look so much better without makeup." A couple seconds later, a new kind of panic set in. "Am I staring too hard? Is it creepy? Should I look down? No but I need to keep eye contact!"
Little did he know, you were having similar, if not identical thoughts. "Wow, no one told me he was gonna be this cute. Blue suits him so well! I'm no staring, am I? Should I speak first? Or should I wait for him to say something?" This finally resulted in the both of you speaking at the same time, something you would later smile about. Because saying "How are you? I'm Soobin," and "I'm Y/N! How are you?," helped you crack into laughter, breaking the ice and easing the awkwardness. Once you had gotten past the niceties, it was time to get to know each other better. The cue cards lay unused, as Soobin just spoke about whatever came to mind, praising your vlogs and thanking you for teaching him more about cuisines. You, on the other hand, took the time to get to know him better, asking him questions about what it was like to study culinary science, something you had never gotten the chance to do.
The hour-long virtual meeting flew by in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed to the both of you. Talking to you, Soobin didn't once feel that you were a stranger or that he was just a fan. You seemed like a genuine and warm person to him that he couldn't help but admire you even more than he did before. To him, somewhere during the meeting, you stopped seeming like a famous vlogger anymore, and instead, all he saw you as was a friend. You, on the other hand, had made up your mind about him being the most interesting person you had ever met, and couldn't stop a sad sigh from escaping your lips as you looked at the time. "Well, Soobin. It's been a pleasure meeting you," you had said, making him smile wistfully.
The moment he had logged out of the meeting, he found himself missing you. He thought back on how nice you had been, smiling when he pictured your face, your hair slightly messy but not too unkempt, an oversized hoodie thrown over your body. To him, it had honestly felt like he was conversing with a friend, and he couldn't bring himself to let such an amazing person walk out of his life. So, without thinking, he began typing out an email to your account, his finger hovering just above the "Send" button. He stopped short though, realizing that your official account wasn't meant for personal mails, and realizing that he had no other means to contact you. Pouting, he fell face-first onto the bed, his energy going down all of a sudden.
He woke up to a "ping," indicating an email on his phone. Unlocking it, he noticed a mail from an account he had never contacted before. Clueless, he clicked on it, the phone nearly falling out of his hand as he read through it. It had been you, after all, reaching out to him through your personal account, and telling him that you had loved talking to him, and would like to be his friend. And thus began the most beautiful friendship either of you had ever forged, full of memories even though you hadn't met each other.
Late night video chats and good morning calls became a ritual, and Soobin found himself busily typing away on his phone every free second he got. You told him all about your escapades and trips, sending him photos and urging him to try cooking whatever you ate and whatever you liked. He, on the other hand, would teach you to cook, sending you tips and giving you suggestions on what to eat. Food was an intergalactic part of the relation you shared, but it was far from being the only thing.
When things got hard for him, you were there to push him towards his dream, reminding him day in and day out that he would have to give in his all to achieve it. "You'll be the greatest chef one day, Soob," you'd giggle, causing him to let out a whine as he said, "How would you know? You haven't even tasted my cooking yet!" He too, was there to provide you a taste of what it felt like to be grounded to one place, to have everything you wanted right next to you. He was there for you to cry to when someone posted a nasty comment under you video, and he was there to virtually feed you when you missed a home-cooked meal. Inside jokes became a thing, as did bitching about classmates and complaining about managers.
Over time, your friendship started blossoming into something more, as Soobin found himself catching feelings, real feelings, for you. The way you smiled, the way you would bite your nails just like him as you went through what people had to say about your videos, the way you cracked stupid jokes and laughed at them alone, he found himself loving them all. He had given his heart out to you, and he didn't want to take it back. You, meanwhile, had been a bit more careful of your feelings, wary of harboring any hopes for a long-distance relationship. But over time, you too, found yourself drowning into the oceans that were his eyes, watching the way his lips moved through the screen, imagining them on yours. Over time, you too, felt your feelings grow, but being your stubborn self, you didn't act on them.
Days turned into months, and soon enough, you were keeping Soobin company through his late night study sessions, talking to him in the hopes of keeping him awake. Helping him prepare flashcards, and letting him teach you a full four-course meal so that he could practice for his practical exams. "What are you gonna do once you graduate?," became a regular question you posed towards him, and every time, it was the same reply. "I don't know yet, Y/N. I want to do something like you. I want to travel the world and learn about different cuisines first-hand."
As Soobin's exams drew nearer, you found yourself bring just as worried as he was, worried about how he'd fare in the examinations, worried about what he'll do when he gets his degree. But keeping your concerns aside, you did your best to push him to do his best, study that last chapter, practice that last technique, memorize that last recipe. "I just wanna sleep, Y/N," he'd whine, only to have you let out a giggle at how adorable he looked. "It's for your own good, bub," you'd reply, your smile somehow managing to give him the strength to put in just a little extra effort.
Seeing him work so hard, you couldn't help but want to give him a surprise by congratulating him in person when he graduated. So, you decided to plan a trip to Seoul, shooting a film vlog just an excuse to finally meet your closest friend, and the person you had a crush on. You had initially wanred to keep the plan a secret, but soon realized what a waste it would be to not use it to your advantage. And so started your ingenious way of getting Soobin to hit the books. "I'm coming to Seoul after your exams, but I'll meet you only if you put in all your effort," you'd tell him, repeating it like a mantra day in and day out.
In response, the boy would pout and whine about how he "hated" you, but started putting in double the effort, just to make you proud. Your tactic seemed to work, but Soobin was still nervous. Nor about the theory, but about the practical exams. "What if I don't do well on the exam? It happens all the time on Masterchef," he said one day, looking into your eyes as you attempted to calm him down. "I know you'll nail it, Binnie," you replied, smiling at him through the screen. "Just think about what makes you happy while you cook, and you'll be good to go." As if on a whim, Soobin muttered out a soft, "You," causing your breath to hitch as you asked him to repeat. "You make me happy," he said again, looking down as he felt his cheeks growing warm. You couldn't help but smile at his sudden confession, sending a virtual kiss his way. "Now go study, you idiot," you giggled, proceeding to tell him about your day as he pored over his books.
The day of his practical exam rolled by, and as you had said, Soobin decided to cook while thinking of something that made him happy. He thought back on the day when you had told him about a delicacy from a city you had visited, and had convinced him to teach you how to make it. The memory alone made a smile appear on his lips, reminding him of how happy the two of you were. And so, that's what he cooked, passing his exam with flying colors. He was so happy he could have kissed you if you were there, and he told you that, causing a laugh to escape your lips. "I'll be there soon," was all you said, fighting to control your excitement.
Soobin passed with flying colors, earning his degree fair and square. And the one person he wanted to thank for it, was you. As you had promised him, a week later found you roaming the streets of Seoul, as you hurriedly made your way towards his college, ready to finally meet him at his convocation. Climbing up the stage to accept his degree, his eyes were busy scanning the crowds, eager to see your face. When he couldn't find you, however, he felt his smile falter, as he took in a gulp.
"Where are you Y/N?," he thought to himself, hand itching to check his phone that was lying in his back pocket. You had told him you'd be here on time, so then, where were you? Just as he feels himself falling deeper into his thoughts, he (like everyone else in the hall) hears footsteps running down the corridor, finally revealing you standing at the entrance, out of breath and with a huge smile stretching across your face. "You're here," he mouthed, his smile matching yours, as you replied with a simple nod and a "Congratulations," your eyes brimming with tears of joy for the boy.
Accepting his degree, Soobin walked off the stage to sit with his classmates, eyes meeting yours every so often as he tried to fight the urge to rush to you and hug you. Once the ceremony ended, neither of you wasted a second in finding each other, throwing yourselves into a hug long overdue. It didn't feel weird as you snuggled your face into his convocation robe, and it didn't feel weird as he did the same into your hair. Pulling away, you just couldn't hide the smiles that threatened to take over your entire face, taking each other's hand as Soobin left you to his parents. "Mom, Dad, this is my friend Y/N," he introduced, and his mom didn't miss the spark in her son's eyes as he looked at you.
Once you were done with the niceties, the two of you made your way out into the city once Soobin had handed his robe over to his mom. Walking the streets with him, with you cracking jokes and him pointing out tourist sights to you, you felt something you had never felt, no matter how many cities you visited. A sense of comfort, a sense of belonging. You felt like you were home for the first time in ages, and it was all because of the guy walking next to you. As if on a whim, you whipped out your video-camera, switching it on and turning it to yourself. Soobin belatedly realized what you were doing, when he heard you recite you introduction. Looking at you in shock, he felt his mouth fall open as he heard you say the words, "Friend," "Soobin," "Featuring," "Guide," in quick succession, piecing the sentence together in his brain.
"Y/N! What are you doing??," he whined, looking down to hide his face. "Awww Soobinnie is shy!!! Sorry guys, it's his first time," you cooed, a giggle escaping your lips as you turned your camera off, trying to convince him to feature in your vlog. "But I won't know what to say!!," he retorted, making you snicker. "Just take me out to eat somewhere tell, and tell the camera why you like the place you like and the food you like. It's not that hard!," you replied, and after much convincing (and some borderline begging), he finally agreed.
He showed you all his favorite eateries and restaurants, gawking at the insane discounts you got him, and just enjoying watching you eat in person, sharing his food. By the time evening rolled out, the two of you were full to your throats, looking out over the river from the bridge. "Thank you Y/N," Soobin said, turning to look at you. "For today, and for everyday. For being there for me, and for being the best friend I have ever had, and more." "Thank you too, Soob," you replied, your eyes stinging as you looked up at him. "Thank you for making me feel at home. Thank you for becoming my home." You hadn't noticed just how close your faces had become, both of you having leaned in subconsciously. Finally, Soobin closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that's full of the pent-up love and emotions.
His lips were soft against yours, molding with yours like two pieces of the same puzzle. Pulling away, a smile graced your lips as you looked up at him shyly, whispering an "I like you," causing him to repeat your words and adding a "too," cheeks rising up in a smile. Biting you bottom lip, you say, "Come with me," making him tilt his head in confusion. "You said you wanted to be like me. To learn about cuisines first-hand. Then come with me. I don't want to be away from you, I want to be with you 24/7, and not virtually. I want to talk to you in person, to hug you, to kiss you." You notice his smile growing wider, and so you ask, "So, what do you say?," as he replies by placing his lips back on yours.
#soobin#soobin smut#soobin fluff#yeonjun#yeonjun smut#yeonjun fluff#txt#txt smut#txt fluff#txt angst#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together#soobin x reader#beomgyu#beomgyu smut#beomgyu fluff#soobi scenarios#yeonjun scenarios#soobin imagines#yeonjun imagines#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu fanfic#taehyun smut#taehyun#taehyun fluff#taehyun scenarios#taehyun imagines#huening Kai#huening kai scenarios#huening kai smut
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work for it
bungou stray dogs | EXPLICIT | 859 words
nakahara chuuya x (afab) reader/oc
you’re procrastinating going to work because you have other, more interesting plans. chuuya isn’t against it.
“i don’t want to go to work,” you whine, but continue with brushing your hair. you have a meeting at the office in two hours, and while it only takes about ten minutes to get there from chuuya’s apartment—which is why you’d slept over the night before —the mental preparation to even get out of the house is something else altogether.
doesn’t help that chuuya’s got the day off, too, lounging in bed in nothing but sweatpants. (and you’re still at that stage in the relationship where you don’t know if it’s too much to tell him he looks like a sculpted god made for you to worship… with your tongue.)
“aren’t ya just gonna attend that one meeting?” he asks, stretching as if unaware of how delicious he looks. the scars along his torso, his lean, built frame, the thin trail of red on his belly… “come back here then. i’ll be home all day.”
“i don’t want to attend the meeting,” you complain again, knowing it will get you nowhere. it feels good to let it out, to whine about it, but it also distracts you from chuuya, and that’s what you need right now.
“what would ya rather do then?” he asks, and you know him enough to know he’s prying to make an attempt to make it happen by the time you come back. and you know exactly what you’d rather do, right now, at this very moment…
you put the brush down and turn to him, devious grin on your face. there’s no harm in trying, is there?
“oh, i don’t know, chuuya. i’d rather stay in bed and get fucked.”
when chuuya finally makes eye contact with you, his pupils are blown wide.
“oh?”
you turn around to take the few steps from the full-length mirror to the bed, crawling over him as he eyes you up and down in your half-dressed state. the white button down open enough to reveal the cleavage between your breasts, the red shorts you’d slept in riding up your ass.
he smirks. “what happened to ‘casually dating’?”
you sit yourself down on his lap, but he doesn’t flinch, budge, or push you away. you take that as a good sign. “this seems casual to me,” you answer, hand hesitating over his chest. he holds onto your wrist and presses your hand flush against his skin.
“gotta say, ya confuse me sometimes,” chuuya admits. “but this isn’t an unwelcome development.”
it’s chuuya who pulls you onto his crotch, the line of his half-hard cock so tangible and so real underneath you. he keeps his hands on your hips, but does not guide or direct you. you press both your hands over his chest and wiggle your hips experimentally.
the sound that comes out of chuuya is heavenly.
the kind of sound someone would make at the attainment of something they’d long wanted. spurred by his moans, you continue to work your hips. something about all this—the sound of chuuya’s voice, his hair fanned out like a halo on the pillow, your hands on his chest, the texture of your clothes where your bodies touch, the sunlight from the window casting a gentle glow over the both of you—fills you with heat, building everywhere.
“you’re so sexy,” chuuya breathes, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to press fervently against your bare skin. the praise makes your mind blank for a moment, and all there is the pressure building in your belly as you grind roughly against him.
“you’re not so bad yourself, nakahara,” you tease, fingers drifting to toy with his nipple. “didn’t know you were hiding this in your pants.”
“there are way too many things you don’t know about me yet, sweet,” he says, that boyish smirk on his face again; but you catch the exact moment his patience runs thin, his hands beginning to urge you more intensely against him.
you don’t last long, that far you know. but the moment seems to last forever, just you and chuuya right there, a feeling erupting in your chest as something catches somewhere and everything goes electric, making you sigh and whimper and begin to beg. “chuuya, gods, please…”
chuuya’s hands trail higher under your shirt, making you shiver. “just a little longer—c’mon, i got you.”
you see his pretty pink lips just as the high is about to hit; but something in you stops you from reaching out and just kissing him until you’re dizzy. instead, you groan out his name before biting down on your own lower lip, the orgasm making you crumple forward onto his chest.
“satisfied?” chuuya asks once your breathing has evened, his voice a low drawl that nearly ignites the fire inside you again. you chuckle.
“yeah, actually,” you admit, the blush fierce on your face, but you make no move to hide it. he pinches your cheek, but your focus is elsewhere, something still poking and waiting against your thigh. you look up at chuuya, enjoy the pinkness in his cheeks, the glow of his gray eyes, and ask, work be damned—
“you need help with that?”
#nakahara chuuya#bungou stray dogs#chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya x reader#chuuya x you#bungou stray dogs imagines#bsd imagines#bsd x reader#💌 chuuya lovemail#genre:wank#rating:E#timeline:casual#a hc that might help contextualize this- chuuya has several safehouse apartments in the city and that's where he brings you#at least while you're casual; only when he trusts you does he bring you to the penthouse which is later on in the relationship.#Sinful Saturdays#also this is kind of related to tomorrow's piece if only by mention lol
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Sake and Snow (pt. 2) || Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader || NSFW
(series prequel to Sleepy Sex)
( Source )
Word Count: 0.9k
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Pt. 4
“You feel safe driving in that?”, Katsuki asked, a hint of preemptive disapproval in his tone.
“No way”. You looked up at that handsome face, cursing whatever gods were testing your resolve to keep your hands to yourself tonight, and said, “What about you? Can you drive me home?”
“I mean, I could, but I’ve got an even better solution”. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You stay here tonight and neither one of us has to get out in that shit”.
“Oh, but I don’t have anything to sleep in and-“
You don’t have to sleep in anything, Katsuki thought. “You know I have a t-shirt you can wear. I even have a new toothbrush that maybe I’ll let you use”.
You grinned at his smug face. How could you resist? “Can I wear that same shirt you let me wear after we had that water gun fight? Y'know, the black one with the skull on it?”
“I don’t know", he hesitated. "That’s my favorite shirt and it took you a week and a half to give the damn thing back to me last time”.
To be fair, you had kept 'forgetting' to give it back to him. You'd slept in it every night, breathing in his delicious musk as you slipped into slumber, or between your legs, only parting with it when his scent had worn off. Little did you know, he didn't wash it for a few more days after he got it back, inhaling your scent until his had set in again.
“Pleeeease, Katsuki?”, you pleaded while batting your eyelashes at him. He rolled his eyes and walked away.
He returned moments later with said shirt, holding it out to you. “You can use the bathroom in my room. I left out a pair of the smallest sweatpants I have. Yours is the blue toothbrush, the black one’s mine. Don’t touch it”.
“Yes sir”, you teased.
He watched you from behind as you walked towards the hallway, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip, “That’s more like it”, he mumbled under his breath before busying himself with the kitchen cleanup.
You held in your schoolgirl giggle until you'd closed the bathroom door behind you. God, he was so fucking adorable when he tried to hide his smiles.
You opened the text from Momo.
Momo: “Soooooooooo…have you touched his penis yet? Lol jk. Everything good? It’s been snowing, you know”.
You: “Yeah, I’m sleeping on his couch tonight. SHUT UP in advance, it’s not like that, you pervert! I haven't had any contact with his penis, and I won't!”
Momo: “😂 I’m glad you’re staying there, I know you’re safe with him”.
You: “Yeah, me too. 💓 Night-night, Momo. Love you!”
Momo: “Love you too, babe. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m at Shouto’s and I for one would like to touch a dick tonight, 😈”. You rolled your eyes and snickered.
Momo was lucky. Shouto was hot, and a sweet guy in his own way. He seemed a bit emotionally clueless at times, but it was endearing and you completely trusted him with your best friend. You developed a small crush on Shouto when you first met him. When Momo started dating him, though, you were happy for both of them. You had your brief phase of liking Shouto, but deep down only one guy stirred your heart. Even if you'd dated Shouto, you still would’ve thought about a certain someone else sometimes and wondered…
“Oi! You better not be going through my shit in there!” There he was – the guy that made your heart swoon.
“Almost done! Just looking for your porn stash”.
"I can promise you it's not in there!"
"Aw man!", you said, feigning disappointment.
"Just hurry the hell up!" He shook his head, laughing as he walked away from the closed door.
Katsuki was sitting forward on his couch, pouring more leftover sake when you came out of the hallway. Although he couldn’t discern a single curve on your body, you looked sexier than ever. Seeing you in his clothes, he decided, was his new favorite indulgence. He stood up and motioned to the spot next to him. “Make yourself comfortable". He turned and headed in the direction of his bedroom. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna change too”.
When Katsuki re-emerged a few minutes later wearing a t-shirt and loose-fitting pair of basketball shorts. More importantly, you noted his quite visible dick print. Jesus Christ, he's packing.
“Move over, that’s my spot”.
“Territorial, are we?”
“Damn right”.
The two of you fell into conversation, picking up where you'd left off earlier. A while later, you each took bathroom breaks and when Katsuki made his way back to the couch, he found you lying down in his spot. He walked towards you, his soft dick slightly bouncing under the fabric of his shorts with each step, you started to sit up when he said, “You don't have to move. Stay where you are”.
As he crawled in behind you to assume the big spoon position, you white-knuckled the blanket, grateful that he couldn’t see your face turning 10 new shades of red. He wrapped a strong arm around your waist and took one of your hands in his as he breathed in that clean, ocean scent that he'd come to crave. You shivered and he may or may not have been using the circumstances to his advantage when he pulled you in closer, his lap brushing against your butt.
Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it. Goddamnit, you told yourself, but there was no fighting the urge to move against him just so.
🍶❄🍶❄🍶❄🍶❄🍶❄🍶❄🍶❄🍶❄🍶
Taglist: @miodio
*anyone else who wants to be added to the taglist, holla at ya girl. I think there's gonna be 2 more parts after this, and they're going to be 🔥S-P-I-C-Y🔥. Love y'all. 💟
#katsuki#bakugou#bakugo#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo imagine#katsuki x f!reader#bnha bakugou#kacchan#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugou fanfiction#katsuki thirst
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Take all of my Firsts.
Genre : awkward humans in love. A lot of first times done wrong? Or possibly done just right.
Rating : 21+
Warnings : Its written by me. Thats all the warning you’re gonna get. also Jungkook here is a whole cutie i’m in love.
Summary : After getting fired and blacklisted for refusing to sleep with her boss, 26 year old Hana is kind of desperate for a job. So much so, she applies to be the secretary of the painfully awkward, absolutely anti-social Jeon Jungkook, the bumbling CEO of a brand new start up company.
~~~~~~~~~~~
1. First Date. (1/?)
“ This is blue.” Jeon Jungkook's impressively large figure filled the entryway to my tiny cubicle, shoulders brushing the two wooden frames on either side of him and when he carefully stepped into the workspace, the rickety old boards beneath our feet creaked ominously.
Both of us paused, waiting to see if today would be the day the dilapidated warehouse finally gave up on us, plunging us twenty feet down into the basement.
When after a second, Jungkook still stood tall, very much not falling to his untimely demise in an explosion of broken floorboards and rubble, I finally exhaled in relief and looked at what he was showing me.
I blinked, staring at the pen in his hand. It looked pretty ordinary by all standards, nothing remarkable. But the way Jungkook was staring at it, implied that it had done some sort of very personal affront to his person.
“Uh..yes?” I wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this whole thing.
“There are three blue pens in my draw. I only require two on any day. One that i use and another as a spare in case the first one fails in some way. This is not required.” He intoned gently.
I could feel the urge to scream, slowly build.
“Right... of course. Very carefully analyzed and concluded, sir. I just don’t know...” why on earth are you telling me this?
“My draw is cluttered by this pen. A second spent picking and dropping this around is a second of my time wasted, Hana. And you know how I feel about wasted time and its effect on our productivity.”
And you know how I feel about this moldy ass warehouse office that you insist we use because its free and you don’t have to pay rent, there’s insects here that are probably extinct in the outside world, not to mention there's a very suspicious looking algae growing on the underside of my table and I don’t wanna know if its going to mutate and eat me whole, but you don’t really care about any of that , do you, you murderously oblivious pinhead ??
“ Hana! Are you listening to me?” Jungkook’s voice snapped me out of own head and i smiled weakly, carefully plucking the open out of his hand.
“I’ll get rid of it , sir.” I said dutifully, getting up to drop the pen on a side table and the floor boards creaked again, louder . I froze, staring down at the small cracks in the floor, offering me a glimpse of the dusty basement underneath us.
Please God, don’t let me die in this hellhole.
“Get rid of it?” Jungkook looked very serious, his handsome face scrunched in displeasure and I wondered yet again why I was still here.
And yet i felt the familiar curl of reluctant affection as well. I had only been working for him for a little over two and a half months and i already felt a desperate need to save him from the world and himself.
Mostly himself.
“Uh..no?” I asked confusedly and he sighed deeply.
“That would be an awful waste. The pen should merely be stored away for future use, hopefully somewhere other than my draw. I hate clutter.”
Right. Right of course. I tried to smile soothingly.
“ I understand your sentiments perfectly, Mr. Jeon. i take full responsibility for not ...de-cluttering your draw this morning.” because i was too busy adjusting our budget for the month, setting up seven interviews with potential employees and seventeen other meetings with clients and investors. But who cares about that right? When there’s a whole extra pen that needs to be taken care of.
“ Excellent. Also, the dinner with Kim Sera? Could you tell her that I am not available for coitus?”
I choked on my own saliva, coughing in disbelief.
“Are you dying? Do you wish me to call the ambulance?” He frowned and i spluttered, shaking my head.
“No.. i... No. Just... Sera... You. I... What?” I choked out.
He rolled his eyes.
“I said, Could you tell Ms. Kim that I am not available for coi-”
“I HEARD YOU.” I shouted and he jumped a bit. “ I.. I heard you, sir. But ...just... She merely asked you out to dinner? She’s a potential client and-”
“I only meet potential clients here in my office. I only get asked to dinner, in order to have coi-”
“SEX!!” I shouted in desperation. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around Jungkook saying coitus. it was warping my insides and making my gut clench, intestines twisting like little snakes.
“Excuse me?” He tilted his head in confusion and I felt my heart ache, completely at odds with the throbbing headache he was giving me, pulse racing at how ridiculously cute he looked, considering he was a grown man of twenty five. A whole three months older than me and yet it felt like i was babysitting him all the damn time.
“Please just say sex. its what every one says... coitus is just-” i felt slightly nauseous.
Jungkook frowned deeply.
“Sex can hold different meanings. Like gender , for example. I merely wish to avoid confusion. when i say coitus I’m talking about the physical act of a penis-”
I brought my palm down on the table with enough force to scatter the papers and send the stationery flying . Jungkook jumped a little.
“I feel-” i shuddered, “ this conversation is getting derailed, a bit Sir.. Lets just talk about why you think, Ms Kim wants to have sex with you.”
Jungkook opened his mouth to argue and i groaned.
“Coitus.” i choked out quickly. “ Why do you think Ms. Kim wants to have coitus with you?”
Jungkook shrugged.
“Its what I get asked out for.”
I blinked.
“You... Dinner is ... It doesn't always have to be for sex, Sir. People go out to dinner to talk to each other all the time.” I protested.
Jungkook frowned.
“Really? People don’t like when I talk.” He stared down at his feet.
I felt that familiar fist around my heart again.
“I... “
“Its alright, Hana. I understand I’m peculiar and i make people comfortable. So they often just want me to eat in silence and take then back to my apartment.” He shrugged. “ It was wrong of me to assume that that is how all humans behave. I still don’t think Ms. Kim would want to have dinner with me. Even if she did, I may ruin our chances. I’m not.. I’m not good with people.”
I stared at him.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” I blurted out, before I could think it through.” Sir.”
Jungkook looked up, frowning.
“What?”
“A dinner date sir. You and I, tonight. I’ll reschedule your meeting with Ms. Kim to tomorrow night. I’ll show you how dinner dates go. And you can be ... well... you can feel more comfortable when you meet her.”
Jungkook considered.
“That is an excellent idea. You will take me out on a date and teach me what to say and do.”
I smiled, nodding.
“And there will be no coitus.”
That word had definitely grown on me.
“No sir. No coitus.” I fought the urge to grin.
“It would be my first date then. A proper date.” He looked excited.
And then he frowned.
“What must I wear?” He asked confusedly.
“Oh something casual should be fine?”
“Casual....you mean like my beige suit? i admit I haven;’t work it in years because its a bit too frivolous but I can make an exception. You’re a bit ...” He paused,” wild yourself.”
Not sure what he meant by wild, i merely shook my head.
“No suits sir. Just some shirt and slacks should be fine.”
Jungkook frowned again.
“That sounds incredibly scandalous. Are you sure you don’t wish to have coitus?” He asked eyes narrowed in suspicion.
This time the laugh escaped against my will.
“Your virtue is safe with me sir.” I said with a straight face and he sighed.
“Well, then. I shall meet you at the same restaurant where I was to meet her? At 8.00?”
I hesitated.
“Sure. Unless you’d like the full date experience?”
Jungkook leaned forward, clearly intrigued.
“What is that?”
“If you meet me at the subway station near your apartment at six, i’ll show you.” I grinned, “ Sir.”
Jungkook nodded enthusiastically.
“Excellent. I’ll do that Hana.” He smiled and then glanced at the pen , smiling.
“I’ll keep it safe , Sir. Don’t worry about it.”
I watched him walk out of the cubicle, heart racing. i willed myself not to stare at the broad back and narrow waist.
If you develop a crush on him, there is no doubt that you are the weakest link in human history. The reason humanity will die out will be because of your lack of sense, Hana, because even stupidity should have its limits.
( TO BE CONTINUED)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR’S NOTE : So, this is the drabble i was talking about. And i am terrible at fluff so give me ideas for their first date :’(
#jungkook fluff#ungkook fics#jungkook smut#bts fics#ceo jungkook#jungkook fics#bts smut#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic
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Jealousy (Miya Atsumu x chubby reader)
POST TIME SKIP
Bokuto and his childhood best friend have gotten awfully close lately, a little too close for Atsumu's liking. He's mad about how much attention you give to Bokuto after a game, when you confront him about his attitude, things quickly get out of control.
ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Atsumu’d had enough. He’d been watching you shamelessly ogle over and compliment Bokuto for the last five minutes, and you’d failed to notice him or congratulate him once. All he’d gotten so far was a quick kiss along with a ‘good game’ before you’d ran over to Bokuto to hype the hitter up.
He didn’t care that you were just having a light good-natured conversation with your childhood friend. All he could focus on was the way that your bodies were unconsciously tilted towards each other or how Bokuto’s hands were lingering a little too much as he wrapped them around you for a hug.
It wasn’t just today either. All it had been with you for the last week at least, was how awesome and strong Bokuto was. Not to mention how built he was. God, you went to the gym with Bokuto once, and now you wouldn’t stop rambling about how surprisingly ripped the spiker was beneath his jersey.
All it was was,
“Oh my god, did you know that Bokuto can hip thrust almost 600 pounds! God! He could crush me with those thighs!”
Or
“We were goofing off and Bokuto actually picked me up and squatted me!”
All of these things were said in front of the whole MSMBY team, causing Bokuto to puff up with pride, Hinata to marvel at his awesomeness, Sakusa not to care, and Atsumu to go off and seeth to himself.
Of course, you didn’t know the effect that you had on Atsumu. You couldn’t tell that every time you playfully flirted with Bokuto, telling him how handsome and strong he was, that Atsumu was filled with the urge to rip you away and fuck you right in front of the whole team, letting them know just who you belonged to.
You didn’t know this because, while Atsumu was incredible at communicating with his teammates, he was shit at expressing his feelings when it came to you. This led to him bottling up all of his feelings until they became too much for him. At which time he would go and rant to a very jaded and very annoyed Kiyoomi.
“Yeah, but did you see that one hit in the second set Y/N! Wasn’t it awesome!” Bokuto asked excitedly, bouncing back and forth on the pads of his feet as the two of you had a very animated conversation about the game he just played.
“Of course I did Bo! It was so cool!” You exclaimed back, matching his exuberant energy with your own.
You were incredibly proud of your childhood best friend, and you were super thankful that he just happened to be on the same team as your boyfriend. It made it to where you were always able to cheer both of them on without them being on opposite sides of the court. In your eyes, it was a win-win.
“Yeah well, maybe it was ‘cause someone gave you an awesome set,” Atsumu grumbled just loud enough for you and Bokuto to hear as he stood a couple of feet away from you with his arms crossed and a childish scowl on his face.
“Oh, don’t be like that Tsumu. Bo’s spike was fantastic!” You lightly scolded the blonde to which he just made a ‘hmph’ sound before turning and sulking away.
You had no clue why Tsumu got like this when you congratulated Bokuto. It wasn’t like you didn’t congratulate him as well. You always made sure that the blonde was the first and the last to receive cheers from you. So you had no idea why he was being so fussy lately.
As Atsumu walked away Bokuto could practically see the waves of anger radiating off of his back, and he guiltily ignored them. He knew why Atsumu acted like that when Y/N congratulated his spikes. He knew why Atsumu hated the idea of his girlfriend going to the gym and hanging out with one of his teammates.
He knew that the way that he interacted with Y/N made Atsumu angry, but he ashamedly did it regardless.
He couldn’t help it. The two of you had been so close as children, you grew up together, he knew everything about you. He knew your favorite color, all of your fears, your dreams, and when the two of you had decided to attend different high schools and got out of touch it had really hurt him.
That was why he was so happy when he joined the Jackals, that you just happened to be the girlfriend of one of his new teammates. Over the last couple of months, the two of you had re-ignited your old friendship and things were just like old times.
Well, they were just like old times until Bokuto realized that you weren’t the kid he used to know. Your personality was fundamentally the same, but drastically different at the same time.
He remembered back in primary school just how shy and insecure of a girl you were. He remembered defending you against the people who would bully you for your size, and comforting you when you cried about the mean things they would say.
Bokuto had always despised those people that had made you hate yourself. So every chance he got he would try to cheer you up and let you know just how great you really were.
Over the years, that insecure part of you really changed. It changed so much that at first Bokuto wasn’t sure if it was really you. No longer did you walk with your gaze on the floor, covering your body with too-baggy clothing. No longer did you apologize unnecessarily or hold your tongue in conversations.
The moment that he’d seen you with Atsumu, he was completely taken back. You had been wearing a corset top and jeans that perfectly hugged your plush frame as well as a pair of black heels.
You had always been afraid of showing your body like that in the past. You didn’t like the way that your stomach wasn’t flat or the way that your thighs rubbed together and shook when you walked. He’d also never seen you in a pair of heels before, you were always afraid of being taller than the guys seeing as you were already pretty tall without heels on.
Much to Bokuto’s surprise and delight, you finally seemed comfortable in your body, confident even. And for good reason too because, in Bokuto’s opinion, your body had developed into one of the best bodies he’d ever seen. He would discreetly stare at you when you were with the team, his eyes fixating on the way that you jiggled and bounced every time you moved. He couldn’t help but develop a bit of jealousy towards Atsumu. After all, you were the blonde’s and not his, and sometimes, he would let his mind stray and wonder if he’d be in Atsumu’s place if the two of you had never lost touch.
“Anyways,” you said, pulling Bokuto out of his small daydream, “Are you guys gonna go out and celebrate tonight?”
You made sure to ask loud enough to where all of the Jackal’s heard. The players you didn’t speak to much just ignored you, including the captain who muttered something about being way too beat to go clubbing.
Hinata said he was going to go and hang out with Kageyama.
Sakusa said he wanted to go shower and rest.
And Atsumu was still fuming to himself, refusing to acknowledge your question.
“Hmm, I guess not,” Bokuto said, his hair slightly deflating. He was thinking about how it would be fun to go out when his body suddenly reminded him of the hard game that he just played. “To tell the truth Y/N, I’m pretty exhausted. I think I’ll follow Kiyoomi’s lead and just rest up.”
You frowned, yet nodded in understanding. They just played a really strenuous match so you couldn’t blame any of them for not feeling up to going out.
“I get it, make sure you all recover well!” you offered, your bright signature smile coming across your face and managing to increase the atmosphere’s energy a bit.
Bokuto waved as he and Hinata left the gym to head back to the hotel they were staying at for the night, each of them recapping their best plays of the night like feuding children.
You waved back before turning to your boyfriend, your frown returning when you saw that he was still sulking.
Atsumu didn’t even acknowledge you as he walked right past you and stomped out of the gym. Your frown only deepened at your boyfriend’s behavior, was he really opposed to you congratulating his teammates?
“Hey!” you called after Atsumu, trying to jog to catch up to him. “Hey!” you restated, you could tell that he was taking a little longer strides than usual, knowing that your chubby legs wouldn’t be able to keep up unless you shifted from a walk to a jog.
After he still didn’t reply, you decided to hold your tongue until you got to his hotel room, you didn’t want everyone in the building hearing your relationship squabbles and you definitely didn’t want to attract the attention of any paparazzi.
The walk to the hotel was dead silent. Atsumu was making no attempt to talk to you, and you decided that if he didn’t want to talk to you, you didn’t want to talk to him. And even if you did want to talk to him, you’d have to jog as you did it seeing as the asshole was still walking just fast enough to stay two or three strides ahead of you.
Once you made it to the hotel and after a very awkward elevator ride, the two of you arrived at the door to his room. He turned to look at you.
“You’re not planning on staying are you?” He asked coldly, looking down his nose at you as your mouth popped open in surprise.
While Atsumu was normally a great boyfriend, he really knew exactly what to say to hurt you. After a couple of months of dating, you had opened up to him about your past traumas and admitted to him that you used to only feel like a nuisance to people. He’d assured you that you were never a nuisance to him, that he could never grow tired of you. And him saying that made you feel a little bit better about that particular insecurity. So when he said that, your heart dropped.
“Oh,” you said quietly.
As soon as your gaze dropped to the floor, Atsumu knew that he’d really fucked up and guilt automatically began eating at his stomach. He felt incredibly bad and yet his mouth wouldn’t open to apologize.
“ok,” you continued, you could feel yourself wanting to cry but stopped yourself in fear of your tears only fueling Atsumu’s annoyance with you.
No one liked a clingy crybaby, you told yourself as you bit your lip to hold back the emotions.
“I guess I’ll just go back home, maybe I’ll see if Bo wants to go get some food,” you mumbled, turning to leave the setter.
“Of fucking course…” you heard Atsumu muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.
You turned back around, slightly angry at Atsumu’s attitude. You had tried to be sensible and walk away, giving him space, but if the asshole wanted to talk under his breath at you, you had every right to get angry. If he thought something was wrong he needed to man up and let it out.
“What’d you say?” You asked, your hands starting to fist at your sides.
“You heard me.” Atsumu sneered back, crossing his arms across his chest but not retreating into his hotel room. If anything the actions only caused your frustration to grow. Why the fuck was he being like this? He’s acting like a literal child.
You took a few quick steps towards the blonde, jabbing your finger into his chest as you glared up at him.
“Listen,” you hissed, “I have no fucking clue why you’re acting like this, but it’s not cute and it’s hurting my feelings. I’m not a mind-reader, if you have something bothering you, you have to tell me.”
“What?” Atsumu growled. He couldn’t believe that you really didn’t know what was bothering him. There was no way someone could be that fucking naive.
“You heard me.” you snipped back, your arms coming up to cross your body in a stance mirroring his.
Before you could tell what was happening, Atusmu had grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside of his room, the door slamming behind the two of you as he automatically trapped your body against it.
While you were still stunned by the extreme progression of events, Atsumu had unlooped your belt and fastened it around your wrists, securing them firmly behind your back.
“Hey! What the fuck Atsumu!” You seethed, your arms straining against the leather as the position forced your chest out against Atsumu’s.
“You really wanna know what’s bothering me?” he asked, the anger visible on his face.
“Yes!” You exclaimed in frustration, “that’s what I’ve been wanting to know for the last 15 goddamn minutes!”
As soon as you’d finished your sentence, Atsumu’s face got eerily calm. Instead of the scowl that’d been on his face a second ago, there was his usual smirk. A chill ran down your spine.
His hands left their place on your confined wrists to tightly grip your hips, almost hard enough to leave bruises.
“What a dirty mouth for such a pretty little thing.” He drawled, leaning closer to you until you could almost taste the sweat that had dried onto his temples.
“What ar-”
“ Shhh …” he cut you off, one hand coming up to press a finger against your mouth before going back down and curling lightly around your throat. “You wanna know what’s bothering me, Princess?”
His lips were against your jaw, his teeth scraping against the skin as he mumbled.
“Maybe…..” he continued, the hand that was on your hip tracing across your stomach until it came to the button of your jeans. He popped them open, eliciting another protest from you which he silenced with a slightly harder squeeze to your throat.
Your body was betraying you with every touch he left against your skin. You really didn’t want to give him the reactions that he so clearly craved, but you just couldn’t help the way your body responded to him.
“Maybe it’s because you dress like such a little slut at my games…. Are you trying to distract me, Princess?” He asked, his teeth disconnecting from your jaw as he pulled your jeans down and off of your body before reconnecting even rougher than before.
All you’d been wearing to the match was a pair of high waisted denims along with a simple black cropped tank top, you’d have worn one of Atsumu’s jerseys but they were all dirty at the moment. It was a simple outfit, it wasn’t anything to get pissed over, definitely not this pissed.
“No” you mumbled, still not wanting to let Atsumu know that his touch was affecting you as much as it was.
“Or were you trying to distract other guys, Princess? Were ya trying to show off yer pretty body to them like a little whore?”
Atsumu had worked your jeans completely off and was hooking his fingers around the band of your panties, obviously planning to tear them off of you as well.
Atsumu had never called you such mean things before and part of you hated the idea of him trying to tear your confidence down with the terms, but at the same time, there was no denying the terrible effect it was having on your body. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter at the condescending words of your boyfriend and your resolve was quickly dissipating into the want to obey and submit to him with every fiber of your being.
“N-No!” you stuttered as you squealed at the feeling of Atusumu practically ripping your panties off of your body.
“ Liar.” he spat before taking your soaked panties and stuffing them into your mouth, effectively shutting you up as you moaned around the cloth at the lewd actions.
“You wanted all those guys to stare at yer ass didn’t you?” he asked, punctuating the question with a sharp slap to your ass, making you cry out and fall against his chest as he pulled you into him, one hand gripping your throat still as the other began to roam your plush silhouette.
“Or did you want them looking at your pretty tits?” he continued, taking your tank top between his fingers and pulling it down to expose your heaving chest, discovering that you’d been wearing one of those tops with a built-in bra.
“ A-aa ” you tried to moan out his name around the gag as his graceful setter fingers began to play with your already hard nipples.
“No bra? You really are my little slut aren’t ya? ” One of his hands continued to play with your breasts as the other slowly dragged down your waist, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
You keened against his body as his middle finger roughly slipped across your slit, drawing delicious circles around your clit. The fight in you was almost completely gone. You hadn’t forgiven your asshole boyfriend, it just felt so good to have him pressed up against you like this, touching you, controlling you.
“ Shit... “ he grunted, his finger sliding easily against you due to how incredibly wet you were for him.
His cock was straining against his shorts, but he knew that he didn’t want to give you his cock just yet, he needed to punish you first for how you’d been acting. Acting so naughty, such a little tease. You deserved to be taught a lesson.
“Does watching me play make you horny Princess, do you stand there and imagine getting to sit on my cock?” He asked, his fingers playing with your pussy as he started to walk you into the bathroom, his fingers never leaving your cunt.
“Mhmm.” You moaned in compliance.
Your body was hot with the need for his cock inside of you as the memory of the game played in your head. The way that he moved on the court never failed to soak your panties as you stood and cheered him on in the audience. Every single game you would watch his serves, just thinking about how he was just as powerful off the court as he was on. You couldn’t help but get wet just thinking about the possibility of fucking him after the game.
You thought that, with how Atsumu was acting, you weren’t going to get any victory dick today, turns out that you were obviously wrong. Not only were you getting dick, you were getting it like you’d never gotten it before. You could still feel the anger seeping out of Atsumu as his cruel fingers continued to torture you.
“Well, only good girls get their pussies stuffed.” he breathed against your neck, a pitiful whine leaving your lips as he slowly pushed a finger into your pussy.
“ Are you gonna be a good girl for me? ” He asked, mentally groaning at the way your soft walls clenched around the thick digit.
With the way that your tight wet cunt fluttered around his fingers, he almost forgot why he was mad. It was incredible the way that you could make him forget things like that, the way that you had him wrapped around your cute stubby fingers.
“Mhm!” you nodded frantically. Your hands were still bound and your mouth still gagged, so all you could do to convey your desperate message was moan and rub yourself against Atsumu like a bitch in heat, your hips pathetically trying to fuck yourself down onto his finger.
“What’s that?” he snickered, a second finger pressing into your cunt as the first found your g-spot, stroking up into the spongy texture without mercy.
You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to lose it. Usually, you could last much longer than this, but something about the way that Atsumu was manhandling you this time, made it so much harder to keep cool.
It felt like the setter had taken over all of your senses as he continued to finger fuck you into the wall of the bathroom. One hand was fucking your pussy and massaging your clit while the other was kneading your tits, pinching your nipples. At the same time, his mouth was latched onto your neck, sucking deep bruises into the skin, branding you for his whole team to see.
“That’s right Princess..” he groaned, he could feel you clenching harder around his fingers and he knew that you were getting close. “Imma mark you up so good everyone’s gonna know who you belong to.”
You knew that Atsumu was the jealous, possessive type, but nothing could’ve prepared you for just how extreme the problem was. You still didn’t know what sparked this little tantrum and you had the feeling that you wouldn't be able to pull the reason out of the setter until you let him have his way. Hopefully, you’d be able to walk after.
You could feel your end rising, the familiar feeling of a rubber band in your lower belly getting ready to snap. You threw your head back against the wall, trying to keep yourself from crying with the delicious pressure building up inside of you.
Atsumu must’ve known you were close, he used his free hand to help you rotate your arms over your head, twisting the belt around to allow the movement but not to allow you freedom.
“Hold your cunt open for me baby,” he demanded, guiding your hand down to your pussy and directing your arms to press against your stomach and your fingers to hold yourself open to where he could see his fingers fucking into you.
You were a mess, moaning and drooling around the gag as Atsumu’s gaze focused on the way that you continued to suck him back in with every pump of his wrist. He spat on his other hand before giving your clit a light spank, making you jerk against his hold, all of the air completely leaving your lungs as you clenched around his fingers.
“ Yeah …” he growled, his palm beginning to rub against your clit, the quick wet movements making you start crying with pleasure.
“W-nmnmwn” you begged around the gag, trying to warm Atsumu that you were about to cum. He liked it when you asked permission, so you always did and now your body was conditioned to where you almost couldn’t cum without him saying you could.
“What was that Princess?” he asked smugly, he knew exactly what you were trying to say. He knew that while you were acting like a little whore towards Bokuto lately, he was the one that owned your body, he knew that his baby wouldn’t disobey him and cum without permission.
You continued to beg around the gag, your hips and legs burning with the exertion of searching for your high against his hand. You were getting desperate. You looked up at your boyfriend.
Atsumu almost came at the sight of you looking up at him.
You looked so pretty for him, drool on your chin, tears in your eyes, he swore that before he was done with you, those tears would be running down your face, that he would make you cry and beg for his cock, make you admit that only he could fuck you this good. Not Bokuto, not anyone, just him.
“Do you wanna cum for me, Princess?” He asked.
You nodded.
“Okay then… cum for me Princess …” he demanded, leaning in, pulling down your gag, and taking your lips in a punishing kiss.
You cried out into his mouth, your orgasm finally washing over your body, causing it to spasm and jerk in Atsumu’s grip as he held you to his body, his fingers brutally fucking you through your high.
As soon as you’d stopped shaking, Atsumu slipped his fingers out of you and flipped you around, pressing his cock against your ass as your front was pressed into the bathroom counter. You rested your head down against the mirror, your eyes closing as your body still reeled from your orgasm.
You needed a little breather, but that wasn’t in Atsumu’s plan. His hand came down across your ass, making you squeak and lurch forward, your tits pressing down against the counter and your ass popping up into the air.
“Now come on Princess,” he drawled, pulling his cock out of his pants and thrusting it into you without warning, ripping a cry from your chest, “yer not tired yet are ya? We’re just getting started!”
“Nooo please ‘Tsumu...” you gasped, pushing yourself further into the counter, trying and failing to evade his touch.
His cock was hot and heavy inside of your still spasming pussy. You could feel every vein in him as you continued to pulse around him, he almost felt like his dick was suffocating in your soft puffy walls.
Atsumu groaned as he started to slowly fuck into you. He knew that if he started out going as fast as he’d like to, he’d be finished way too soon for his liking so he decided to slow his hips, his cock languidly dragging against your warm insides.
Atsumu couldn’t help these feelings of jealousy. After all, Bokuto was bigger and stronger than him. Deep down, he knew that the reason he was so bitter about you and the hitter’s friendship was that he was afraid of you leaving him for the owl-like spiker.
That’s why Atsumu chose to fuck you in the bathroom. He knew that the wall in the bathroom was the closest wall to Bokuto’s room. He knew that if he fucked you hard enough, he could make you scream his name loud enough to where his teammate would hear you. Then Bokuto would know just who you wanted stuffing your pretty little pussy.
“Come on Princess.” he teased, his hips grinding against your ass with a particularly hard thrust that had your mouth popping open and your lungs gasping for air.
“ You know you love this cock ……” he grunted when your pussy flared around him, clenching against his cock at the words, he grinned, he never knew that you liked getting fucked like a little slut, but now that he knew he swore that he’d never be able to return to fucking you like he had before. Not with the way that you were leaking for him as his degrading words cut through you like a hot knife.
You’d already adjusted to having him inside of you, the heat of him inside of you only being soothed by the cool countertop against your tits. You moaned with every thrust, you could already feel your mind beginning to fog over as Atsumu thrust behind you, plotting to fuck you dumb.
He suddenly stilled his hips, making you whine, trying to push yourself back onto him.
“‘Tsumu…” you whined, your eyes meeting his in the bathroom mirror, “move…”
He smirked, clicking his tongue at his messed up little baby.
“Tell me how much you love my cock, Princess.” He said, taking his dick completely out of you to rub it against your pussy lips, “tell me how much you love it and maybe I’ll fuck you again.”
Your face burned with humiliation. Atsumu had never acted this way before. Sure he was an asshole, but never this much of an asshole. That being said, there was no denying the impact that this side of Tsumu had on your body. You felt like you’d been enveloped in fire, every part of it burning up with need.
“ Please ‘Tsumu… .” you begged, “ I love your big cock so much….please fuck me …”
Atsumu groaned, his dick twitching against your slit. He loved hearing you like this, your voice broken as you begged for him to fill you. He could see the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. So pretty.
“Since you asked so nicely Princess-” he cooed before harshly pumping his cock back into you, starting to fuck into you at a pace that had you crying and bucking back against him.
“Fuck!” you cried, “ Fuck- Tsumu…. Harder…. Fuck me harder ” you begged, you let your forehead fall forward against the mirror, your eyes drifting close.
“Shit” Tsumu growled through gritted teeth, you were so tight around him. He looked up to see your eyes closed.
‘Now that won’t do..’ he thought before threading a hand through your hair and pulling your head back off of the mirror, making a moan spill from your mouth and your eyes spring open.
“Come on Princess,” he panted, “ I wanna see your pretty tears while I fuck you. ”
***************
This was Atsumu’s favorite way to fuck you until you were crying and shaking around his cock. You looked so pretty with that dumb little look on your face, your eyes and lips puffy as you begged him to make you cum, telling him that all of it was too much for your poor little pussy.
He knew that you were reaching your limits, your pussy was fucked raw after 4 orgasms. You weren’t even able to form full sentences anymore, the only words coming out of your mouth were ‘more’ and ‘please’ along with all of your pretty pathetic little cries.
“‘Tsumu….” you cried, you could feel your fifth orgasm coming up inside of you. You didn’t know how much longer you could do this. Your clit was almost numb with how abused it’d been. Your nipples and tits were sore, and while you couldn’t see it, you knew that your whole body would be covered in bruises and marks tomorrow.
“ Please….hurts… ”
“Come on Princess….” he murmured as his fingers came down against your clit, “ just one more…”
You just whined in response, your hips jerking slowly against his pace. Your body was almost finished, but you knew that you had to give him just one more...one more and he’d finally let you rest.
“.... ..gonna….. gonna …” you panted.
Atsumu grinned down at you, your body was wrecked, your head was lolled to the side with your tongue hanging out as he fucked you hard enough for your tits and stomach to bounce with each thrust.
God, you looked so perfect for him. The way that your curves pressed against his body, the way that your pussy squelched with each thrust due to all of his cum that he’d dumped inside of you, all of it- all of you, was perfect… you were fucking built just for him.
“Me too baby…” he moaned, tossing his head back as he felt his third and probably finally orgasm approaching.
His fingers started playing with your puffy clit even faster making you choke on your tears, a new feeling entirely rising up.
You’d never felt this before, a look of horror suddenly came over your face as you began to feel like you were gonna piss.
“no… ’Tsumu!” you cried out, his pace not stopping at all as he began to feel your walls growing stiff.
He’d read about this before on the internet, seen it in porn, but never did he think that he’d actually be blessed enough to witness it.
“Fuck…” he moaned, his voice breaking as he sped up against your pussy.
“No… ” you gripped his forearms in fear, if you accidentally pissed on your boyfriend, you’d be left with no choice but to break up with him out of pure humiliation.
“ Please stop ‘Tsumu…’m gonna make a mess .”
He groaned at the fat tears rolling down your face. He knew what you were thinking, you’d probably never squirted for anyone before, you were probably surprised and scared. He knew he should reaffirm you, tell you it was okay. But he couldn't help but love the panic mixed with pleasure on your face as you begged him to stop.
“Come on Princess.” he panted, “ come on ….”
His hips were snapping into your at an inhuman speed now, each time his cock head bumped up against your g-spot.
“ You can do it Princess …” he promised, his fingers urging you to let you.
You shook your head, the tears of embarrassment running down your chin as you desperately tried to keep it in. You cried out, you could feel yourself starting to slip.
“ No- Fuck! ‘Tsumu!” you screamed, your body starting to convulse as liquid gushed out of your pussy, soaking Atsumu’s cock as he cummed into you, his eyes almost going crossed as you squirted all over his hips, the clear liquid running down his balls and dripping onto the bathroom floor.
“Fuck….yeah… squirt for me Babe. .” he groaned, riding out his high as you cried and gasped out his name.
He finally slowed his hips, your body completely limp with humiliation beneath him.
“Such a good girl….” he soothed, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of your face as you continued to bawl.
“ ‘M sorry ‘Tsumu… ” you sobbed, still thinking you pissed all over your boyfriend’s cock.
“Don’t be sorry Princess, you did so good…you squirted so good for me Baby..you made such a good mess for me.”
For some reason, at Atsumu’s soft words, you began to cry even harder. Even as he assured you that you didn’t piss on him, you couldn’t help the tears of exhaustion that kept spilling over your cheeks.
“Are you okay baby?” he asked, guilt eating at his stomach as your crying didn’t cease.
Did he go too hard? Was it too much? Fuck! He couldn’t lose you, what if you didn’t like it? What if you left him?”
“F-felt so good ‘Tsumu….” you cried, finally returning his embrace as you wiped your tears against his defined chest, your soft body squishing against his athletic one as the hand rubbing your back stilled.
“Why are you crying then baby?” he asked gently, his fingers hooking under your chin as you sniffled.
“I dunno…” you whimpered, your eyes glossily staring back up at your boyfriend. Your body was completely blissed out, you could nothing but cry.
“Ok Baby… let’s get you cleaned up,” Atsumu whispered, gently lifting you off of the counter and guiding you to the shower so he could clean you up.
As he washed your plush body, he couldn’t help but admire his work. Every part of you looked absolutely fucked out and he quickly decided that he would die for you as you yawned, leaning yourself against him.
He kept whispering to you about how good you felt, how good you were for him, how he didn’t deserve you. Your body glowed with the soft compliments, a complete opposite of how he’d acted as he fucked you past over-stimulation.
After he finished washing you, he kissed you deeply, his strong arms wrapping around your body.
“Can you walk Baby?” he asked, softly wrapping a fluffy towel around your naked body.
You shook your head, sticking your bottom lip out in a pout.
“That’s okay..” he chuckled, his thumb running over your cheeks as he stared at you lovingly. “I’ll carry you wherever you want to go okay?”
You nodded, willing yourself not to start crying again at his soft words. You wrapped your arms around his neck, jumping a little to help him hoist you as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
He walked you into the room, resting you in the bed and pulling the comforter up around you before snuggling into the other side, his body automatically coming up to spoon yours.
“I love you, Princess,” he whispered adoringly, his fingers brushing against your bruised skin.
“Mmmm…love you too..” you hummed, your body so exhausted that you quickly started snoring, making Atsumu grin.
He thought about how lucky he was to have you. He could safely say that he was completely satisfied with how loud you’d been for him, with how nicely you’d let him claim you.
*************
“Fuck…” Bokuto whispered, his back was still pressed against the shower wall. His hand was still wrapped around his softening cock as he stared at the cum washing down the drain.
All he’d wanted to do was grab a quick shower. He never expected what had happened.
His eyes closed as he willed himself not to get hard again as he recalled how your moans sounded through the wall as you cried for Atsumu’s cock.
He felt ashamed for the reaction he’d had to it. Felt ashamed of how hard his cock had gotten. Most of all, he was ashamed that he’d stood there and fucked his fist to the sound of you screaming for your boyfriend.
He sighed, getting out of the shower and toweling off, trying desperately to push the memories of those noises out of his head.
Suddenly his phone buzzed.
‘Hope you liked the show ;)’ - Miya Atsumu
He scowled down at his phone before throwing it back onto the floor. He flopped down into his bed.
He could still hear your voice,
‘Fuck ‘Tsumu! M cumming!.....fuuucckk….’
Yep. He was going to be hard for the next year.
How was he ever going to look you in the face again?
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x chubby reader#haikyuuxreader#haikyuu 18+#atsumu x reader#atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu#post timeskip
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The Traveler 2
Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!reader Western AU
Chapter summary: 1907, Old West. Talk of the Statesman gang is slowly on the rise while Jack continues to distract you from your chores, taking you on another but entirely different night-time outing.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, guns, mentions of alcohol and gangs, copious flirting, SMUT, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex/piv sex, outdoor sex, thigh spanking, please pardon me for the amount of smut content in this chapter, a crumb of plot development, Jack Daniels again...
Word count: 14k (leave me alone)
A/N: gif credit to @javier-pena once again! thank you my beloved astrid! and as always, much love to my amazing friends who sent me inspo posts and listened to my anxious ramblings about god-knows-what. you are all the best and you have my heart.
Read Chapter One ~ Series Masterlist
Chapter Two: Six Shooter
Jack is spreading his half-naked body over the mattress in a contented stretch when you return to the bedroom, flustered and hot-cheeked.
“You here to take my sheets, darlin’? I must insist I keep ‘em,” he chortles, turning his bright face over the soft pillow as you attempt stripping the sheets from under him, your lungs emptying in a huff when he catches your wrist and draws you to him instead. Your body lands perfectly on top of his with your weak protest, a poor match for his irresistibly gravel-like voice and his buzzing snugness.
“You’re making my job quite difficult,” you mumble into his neck, kissing the smooth skin there although your words are much more harsh. His chest rumbles, fingers running the length of your clothed back from when he’d hurriedly laced you back into your dress, lips skimming graceful but mindless lines on your temple.
“Mrs. Adler thinks you’re doing your chores.” Jack’s palms are now ghosting over your shoulders as you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking his gaze with you as you move, and you can tell your dilating pupils are betraying the falseness of your annoyed tone when you look at his expanding chest. He takes a deep breath in, the angle of morning light catching his eyes just right to melt them into golden flecks, his dishevelled hair incurable without a bath.
You card your fingers through, and though it’s slightly tangled, the texture is silky enough to brush through the messy state and straighten it out, just a smidge. The touch causes his eyes to flutter closed, and shimmying up his body, he leans his head back to expose his neck further, the long lines and tone popping against each other. His breath hitches when he feels your own puffing across it, his chest immobile while he waits to feel something more from you, but you don’t kiss him, don’t nip him, don’t caress him there.
“I’ve only come to take your sheets to wash them— I should already be downstairs,” you insist and he mopes, your voice softly carrying throughout the bright bedroom, limbs absent-mindedly wrapping around his firm ones until he clings to you.
“Oh,” he hums, tipping his body until you roll under him onto the no-longer-fresh sheets, landing on your back with his hands cradling your head. His handsome smile makes you forget you ever needed to take his sheets in the first place, and when he kisses you deeply, moaning low when you open up for him and his bare skin slides over you, you don’t even remember where you are. “Thought you’d wanted some more of me…”
“Mmm, Jack— she’s already a little suspicious of me,” you giggle, wriggling underneath his heavy weight and it’s a futile effort beneath his affection, his lips laying warm insistent kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. He’s unstoppable, whether it’s the heaviness or the happiness that makes you lie there and take it with quiet laughter as the rough skin of his cheek touches gently to yours.
Jack is as much the sunshine of the room as the real thing, chuckling sweetly along with you and growing more pleased the louder your squealing sounds become, your fingers pulling across the bare skin of his back— he likes it too much to let you off in a timely manner.
Mrs. Adler had only just believed your excuse of a poor sleep as you’d rushed out in a tizzy with your disheveled hair and clothes, and a terrible flourish of panic had bloomed in your chest at the thought of an unchecked mark lingering on your neck. But Jack had looked you over meticulously; deft fingers had worked at the laces of your layers. And even before making it to the kitchen, two dozen kisses wet on your thighs, you’d opened the door only to find the old woman pacing about on the landing of the stairs. Slamming it shut with your back on the wood, panting in the face of confrontation, Jack snickered and peeked out for you a minute later, confirming your chance to slip out undetected.
Now finished serving breakfast, Jack once again prevents you from carrying out your tasks.
“You’ve left me with a lastin’ impression,” he rasps, eyes crinkling as he slips a hand under your skirt and the touch tickles and inspires a giddy laugh from your throat as you swat him away, at last slipping out from under him.
“Give me your sheets, you greedy man,” you order, lifting your chin and furrowing your brow with your arm extended. Jack purses his lips and thinks, sitting up to run a hand through his dark hair, your smile growing despite yourself when it sticks up in bulky curls to leave his contented face in view.
“These sheets have got your smell on ‘em now,” he grins like it’s his most favoured fact in his whole life, leaning back into his palms and his cock is slowly hardening between his legs as he considers his next words, “your cum is on them.”
“Jack,” you chuckle, “you’re dirty.” Inching closer to him, his joyous face turns dark when you arrive in the middle of his strong thighs extending past the edge of the bed, “Get up, please, or I’ll have you explaining why I’m behind schedule for the second time today.”
He presses up onto his feet, his gentle scent covering you as if a fleeting spell, and before any more rational thoughts occur, your hand is reaching into his unbuttoned pants, wrapping around his hard length. His head tips back, the softest growl filling your ears and he pushes his hips forward, placing his hands on your cheeks, urging your lips to slide along his as he fucks into your tight fist. It’s a sweet kiss compared to his already desperate thrusts, his cum still streaking your thighs, inside of you, outside of you, from mere hours before.
“I told you I’d come back here tonight. We’ve plenty of time to ruin more sheets.” Your whisper earns a heavy sigh expelled onto your skin, his grip sliding down to your neck and as his mouth hangs open, you nip at his bottom lip and pull it into your mouth, a tender suckle on the plush softness. He hisses as you let it go, burying his nose into the curve of your neck, and stilling his movements with your hand, he lets you work him like that— your fingers tightly curled around his cock as you slide it in and out of your palm.
“Fuck me,” he groans, “I better see you back here if you’re gonna touch me like this, darlin’.”
Smiling, you pump him quickly, whispering how you can still feel him as if he’s fucking you right now, how good he is, how thick, and he growls from his chest, shutting his eyes tight in concentration.
“Maybe you’ll let me touch you tonight, too, Jack, leave your ropes for another time…” Your free hand clamps around the back of his neck, twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of it, before tugging him down for a slower kiss, capturing his striking whine in your mouth.
“Shit, darlin’... I’d do anything you say right about now… Christ,” Jack’s fingers trace the neckline of your bodice as his lips skate along your cheek, and his voice is so husky and rumbly, you almost consider a greater risk of trouble.
He makes no protest as you bend carefully, still pumping his thick cock while you yank the sheet away from the mattress, pulling back to fold it into your arms and finally leaving his hard length unattended. Jack’s eyes snap open in a crushing neediness, his displeased but wrecked voice calling after you in a bid to keep you here and he laughs incredulously, “You get back here right now.”
Backing up into the door, your lip caught in your teeth, you reach behind and find the cool handle, offering a cheeky grin before you slip away and murmur, “I’m busy.”
-
A mellow afternoon follows Jack’s disgruntled exit to the fractional post office, stealing a rushed kiss in the corner of the parlour for the mere seconds you were alone together, giddy glances spared through the window on his walk to work. You spend a small segment of your time concocting tea for Mrs. Adler who pours over the payment book, thanking you as she slides a list across the bar; it’s full of all things you know to do without the help of paper and pencil.
“How about that Mr. Daniels?”
Spluttering, you swivel on your heel, unsure of the intention of her question, your eyes mistakenly blowing wide with no answer to fill the subsequent silence. She must know, you worry, she must.
“What about him?” You query, looking down at your apron in no need of smoothing, yet your hands fiddle with the pockets, and her amused scoff scrapes through your uneasy stance.
“My, you’d better sleep well tonight... that man whipped those fools down in a second,” she laughs, flipping the page of the large notebook and scribbling something down with a spotted, shaky hand.
“He did.” Wiping your face, you conceal a sliver of a smile under your hand when you think of him— ease and cockiness burned down to his big pleading eyes looking up at you for permission. “Thought you disliked him.”
“Well, I could admit we need someone like that around here more often,” she croaks as you pretend to look over the list of laundry, sweeping, cooking, cleaning. The sentiment lands somewhere uncomfortable in your chest— you no more than agree with her and you could never tell her why or how.
“Oh, and dear, the sheriff came by this morning,” she adds, relaying his spiel of reports.
Only the most notable happenings make it over from town to town, lawlessness rendering crime nothing more than irrelevant. It takes a mass robbery, or a mammoth fire, or an offense so deeply doused and coloured red in rage to make the rounds of neighbouring settlements, so when Mrs. Adler shares the spreading news of heightened gang exploits a little ways north, your heart sinks and adopts a painfully heavy sensation.
“He advises to be extra careful,” she finishes with a stern look, “they could be coming here for all we know. Those Statesman men are horrible…”
“Statesman?” you echo her words, scouring the back of your mind to place the familiarity of that name, but she smiles in return to soften your worried brow. Statesmen, a Statesman. You’d read it somewhere, embellished into leather or stitched into the label of a visitor’s coat while tidying.
“I wouldn’t worry too much. If anything, girl, that Daniels boy should be of use.”
A challenge not to snicker, she gives you, when she tells you not to fuss, as if you’ve got the liberty to enjoy the outdoors where a vigilant attitude is required— but Jack is the remedy, you think, eyeing the stray strands of her brittle grey hair twisted up, scrunching your nose.
“Alright, Mrs. Adler,” you agree, passing her through to the laundry closet.
The air is stuffy inside the small, shelved room, where pleasing, cooling, tiny splashes pepper your forearms as you pour the water bucket into one of the tubs, then grabbing the soap, you flump onto the short stool and drag the laundry basket to your side. The first sheet on the pile is the last one you’d taken— Jack’s— carrying his heady and wood-fiery scent now mingled with yours. With a vibration of anticipation up your spine, your thoughts twirl upon your admittedly cruel handling of his need— tonight, you’re surely in for it.
The usual, slowly passing and hot hours fill with inescapable reveries toeing the line of unrealistic: a cloudy day in bed, a sunny evening at the river, clothes discarded to the side. Shaking those heart string-stretching thoughts and trading for a better focus, you hang the wringed sheets on the line as the last blazes of the sun spread over the field, and take a moment to rest your elbows on the log fence at the back of the yard overlooking the vast, lush area.
Something heavy, once more, tugs at your weary limbs, watching the calm breeze push along the beige blades of plant-life, and you think of Sylvie— her bright mane and soothing demeanor, the rush of riding with her and him. The thrill no longer chased, waiting for you still. There must be a few months worth left of him, two at the least, perhaps enough to soothe your aching heart in seeking more vibrant days. But before too long, you set back on your course of chores, trekking up to tidy the bathing rooms for those coming back from a dirty day.
Jack finds you there an hour later in the open door, kneeling on the floor by the bathing tub, scrubbing away at its already-shiny exterior, and he smiles under the sticky and sweaty clothes, watching the way your body jostles with movement.
“Hey, cruel woman.”
Halting, your head briefly hangs between your shoulders before you sit back on your heels and grin up at him, his weary feet leading him towards you, a set of clean clothes hanging off his arm. His shirt is sheer in some places more than others, namely his chest, damp with muscular effort.
“Did you have a hard day, Jack?” You question, making big eyes at him from your low spot compared to his tall height, and his face grows slightly stern.
“Oh, darlin’, you know I did,” he kneels, takes your chin in his hand and you find yourself leaning up into his face, mere inches from his lips, entranced by their pouty curve. But he doesn’t kiss you. He pinches your chin harder, a deep pressure as he looks over you, taking in the way you indulgently advance until you’re on hands and knees, caged by his own, staring at him with none of the power you held this morning.
“You oughta continue what you started…” he whispers almost on your lips, never close enough to touch, your eyelids heavily drooping as you look down his torso, leading to his cock.
“Oh,” you sigh, slick pooling where he can’t see or feel it, “Jack, I can…”
You crawl forward between his spread legs until your nose nudges the material of his pants, resting your weight back on your knees when you reach out for him, but his face is a sinister, knowing grin when steadily rises back up to stand, rocking into his heels.
“Not now, though,” he coos, swiping a damp thumb over your lip, “off you go, little lady.”
“Why—”
Whining involuntarily, you watch while he shrugs off his suspenders and closes his eyes, fluttering back open with a smirk at Mrs. Adler’s distant call for you to prepare dinner.
“That’s why.”
Your mouth hanging open, you roll your eyes, taking his calloused hand as he aids you upward from the hard floor, though he finally gives you a greeting of a peck on the cheek, “Later, angel, you can show me what you’ve been thinkin’ about all day.”
Nudging your body, he sends you off to your chores in a frazzled state and shuts the door with a wink, settling in to wash himself off from the dust and dirt.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt so needy, it nearly feels stupid to still have the crushing weight of wanting Jack as you chop ingredients, peek into cupboards, fill plates. It’s even worse when he sits at the table, clean and fresh and irresistibly smooth, chatting in easy conversation with Mrs. Crockett who enjoys his company dearly as she tells him uninteresting stories of her husband.
He watches your back as you turn about the steps, as you pass along plates to each person, and he brushes his fingers purposely along yours when you arrive at his spot, a gesture to offer his silent token of appreciation. Your breath catches, and his wink sets it free again through a quiet sigh, smiling sweetly for him. He tries not to laugh, you notice, and you stop yourself from touching his shoulder here in front of everyone— namely Mrs. Crockett, who has also made a poor reputation of gossip and a budding friendship with Mrs. Adler who is closest to her in age. The last thing you can manage is a rumour about your little life; by that point you’d be begging Jack to take you with him even before the post office is built, even with so much left to explore with him.
As the chitter-chatter diminishes down to an empty table with empty plates, and the visitors disperse into corners or run off to different buildings— they always come back for dinner to get their money’s worth— you sort out the dried laundry, slipping into the ladies’ rooms to aid with corsets, all with distant thoughts in a place where they shouldn’t be. They never ask about your day so much as they speak of theirs, whether time spent with their sweetheart, telling you how they prefer their things folded, or muttering how much they liked dinner. The last one you take lightly, thanking the ladies in whispers. Now, though, it doesn’t cause as much of an ache in your heart when you listen to their free and happy memories— you think of doing the same with Jack, of asking him and receiving his sweet smile in return, ready if you are.
When you finally sit at your simple vanity, it’s with a powerful sigh that you remove your boots, step out of your clothes, and trade them for your nightgown. You pull the threaded pink ribbon taut into a bow, and look over yourself in the mirror, giddy in your stomach for when the time comes to slip into Jack’s room. Judging by the clock, another half hour would do to be sure everyone has settled in so you can sneak in complete privacy, and it feels less daunting now than it ever did before.
Folding your petticoat to lay the soft cotton on the tabletop, you hear the handle click and turn and you gasp fiercely in response, rising from the chair as Jack all but barrels in, haphazardly shutting the door before swooping you into his arms.
“Oh, my—” you squeal, cut off by a rough kiss that you eagerly return, bombarded with the scent of his soap and shaving cream. You only urge him off with your hands sneaking between your bodies to press on his chest and ask a burning question, his lips not wanting to part from you. It’s a tiny struggle but he eventually gives way, fondly looking down at you as you speak. “Did anyone see you?”
“Hall was empty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ of you… lost my damn patience,” he croons, plushy lips open on your neck, leaving kisses that bloom into pleasant flourishes of need like ink dipped into water. It’s a new spot that you allow him to explore, bringing your hands up his wide shoulders as you turn around the room together, stepping at random. “Had to keep from touchin’ myself and dreamin’ of you…”
You wrap your arms around his neck, reeling him in closer for a whisper against the shell of his ear.
“You don’t have to dream, Jack, I’m here.”
His breath stutters uncharacteristically and it must be your chance to keep him like this, his pleasure dependent on what you decide to do with him— so you pin your front to his and he grunts, giving a miniscule, testing rut back.
“No more teasin’?” he asks hopefully, sweet brown eyes glowing in the low light of your little lamp. “You weren’t so nice this morning…”
“Oh, Jack, I’m not so sure about that.”
In a mirror of the morning, you slip your hand lower to find his cock hard again, splaying your fingers over its thick length and rubbing over the fabric. He squeezes your waist, digging his thumbs in helplessly as he staves off a groan in a bid to keep what willpower is still left with him, then loses it all when you place a simple kiss to his collarbone, not open or rough or wet— just plain, pressed lips to his skin, and he asks you for more.
“Will you let me touch you this time?” you murmur, urging him backward onto the bed. He slumps over the mattress, eyes trained on your face as he places himself further up with his legs spread, palms sinking into the covers. He swallows thickly when he takes you in: standing over him in the sheer, light fabric of your nightgown, its lace edges bordering the slopes of your body.
“I want you in my mouth,” you continue, lowering yourself to your knees, hands over his own as he shuts his eyes and breathes deep, long breaths, grunting when he feels your fingers working at his buttons. “Think I’ve earned it.”
“You could ask me for anything you want, darlin’... shit—” His thighs tense under your ministrations as you reach in and pull his cock out, the tip of it shining in his own, generous arousal. He looks down from himself to your sparkling eyes, and cups your cheek in his large hand, its smoothness traveling down the curve of your face. “Anything you want.”
His lip twitches, mouth falling delicately open and his eyes shutting once more as you place your tongue flat at the base, licking upward, circling around the head while you watch his face strain and pull, his neck sticking out prominently. He’s gorgeous when you touch him like this, still so fresh and clean from the bath. The warm drips of precum glide slowly on your tongue as you hold it out, then wrap your lips around him, whining when he fists through your hair and cramps his fingers.
“That mouth is just about gonna kill me already,” he rasps, bucking his hips up a smidge to perch himself deeper in your mouth, your hand rising to cover his at the base of your neck. Its heat is dangerous yet satisfying in its revelation of just how affected he is, a tiny spot of sweat swiping from his palm onto your neck.
Blinking up at him, you pull off, wetly sliding over half the length of him before moving back down to take more, feeling it brush against the back of your throat. You keep him there as he squeezes you harder, his spine curling over you and the new sound he makes is just begging to be heard, but he smothers it with a bite of his own lip to quiet it.
“Like that…” he sighs, carefully canting his hips forward as you wrap your fingers around his base, enveloping him and spreading the wetness of your mouth over his entire length.
He glistens like that, shimmering in the low and golden light, fisting at the blanket and your hair, puffing focused breaths every time you take him deeper, longer, sucking him harder.
Up and down, you keep your lips wrapped snugly around his cock, its throbbing heft a pleasurable weight on your tongue, the satisfying hit of the head at your throat.
“Where have you fuckin’ been,” he nearly laughs in disbelief that you’re even here, much less on your knees, much less with your mouth around him.
Pulling off for a deep breath, you trace the edges of your nightgown, eyeing him and his debauched, handsome face as you bring the lacy straps off your arms, leading them from your wrists. “I’ve always been here.”
The fabric gathers at your waist in a soft pool of cotton and ribbon, your chest bare and level with his cock.
“Do you like that, Jack?” you preen, settling closer to him this time over the hard and truthfully painful floor— you don’t notice it as much when you feel him hitting that spot all the way down your throat.
“You know I do,” he smiles breathlessly, crinkles and that little dimple creasing in his content face. He leans down for a kiss, its nature unlike the urgency of your own mouth wetting his cock— it’s always sweet like he is to you in every other way, lingering there before you lean into the space between his legs, eager.
“I wanted you all day,” you coo, running a thumb over his tip, a saturated kiss placed there before you put him in your mouth for a brief suck, managing to keep him inside for a few short seconds. “I should have felt so tired after what you did to me, but all I could think of was this.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, he then lets it go in a gravelly sigh as he holds your bobbing head in his hands, spanning the sides of your face. Your forehead brushes his soft stomach as you push down, hollowed cheeks hugging every inch of him and he jolts, driving himself the smallest bit further, moaning at the tight and wet sensation of you. You pump him, looking so falsely innocent between his legs, your chest and shoulders bare for him to admire, peeking out of the fine gown.
“Keep goin’ darlin’, I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth up... know you want it down your throat, bet you thought about havin’ my cum drippin’ from your mouth all day, too, hm?”
Licking the tip and rubbing him faster, you nod fervently, opening wide in a stretch to finish him off with firm squeezes and strokes, his breaths now raggedly rough from above you every time he hits that spot. Your mouth is hot on his skin and he warns you he’s going to cum soon, he’s going to fill your mouth up nice and good, and you shut your eyes tight in concentration, focused on the thick feel of him sliding in and out between your lips.
“Wanna see you when I fill you baby doll, c’mere n’ look at me.” Jack’s fingers brush the underside of your chin, and you strain to look upward before you slide your hand over his slick cock. He tenses up by another degree, his chest and forehead damp, throat straining as he swallows thickly.
A final squeeze and he cums all over your extended tongue, the milky liquid sliding off and onto your chest as he moans through gritted teeth, dazed as you are as you both watch it drip all over your exposed half. You swallow what remains in your mouth, letting your jaw drop to show him your now clean slate.
Bending into you and still panting, he smiles, streaking his thumb down your chin to gather up what’s left, guiding it into your open mouth. Heart racing, you take it in, your enthusiastic glow causing his face to soften.
His gaze drifts south to linger on your glimmering chest, pressing his palm flat and firm into the slight pool of it. He paints you with it, spreading his cum all over each breast with a clear sheen from the separation, special attention granted to each nipple with a flick of his wet thumb. Its initial warmth has cooled and with it lingers a soothing cover over your front as you lay your cheek over his knee, toying with the worn laces of his boots.
“Now… how to thank my darlin’ girl and her perfect fuckin’ mouth…” Jack wonders aloud as he cups your cheeks in his hands and puts a contrasting, innocent kiss to your forehead.
Grinning up at him and placing your hands over his, you tell him that’s all you wanted to give him, all you needed was to finally feel him in your mouth.
“Well,” he whispers, “I wanna show you what I was thinkin’ about all day long.”
The spark in your eyes must be a blinding one, his hands gliding over the slope of your body as you work yourself back onto your feet, your knees throbbing and sore. Wincing, you balance yourself on his broad shoulders, glancing down to notice his eyes not relieved of their dark hunger.
“Jack, you’re…”
“Not done, angel,” he finishes for you, and that’s when you feel it, the slick dripping past your core to spread slightly down your squeezing thighs. He pushes his sleeves up as the corner of his lip tugs upward too, straight teeth glinting the same as his eyes.
“Your turn, then,” you murmur, parting his hair through your fingers. It falls back into place, his pillowy and gentle lips finding yours as he stands with you, always chasing you, waltzing you backward until your ass bumps against the thick windowsill.
“I was choppin’ wood, thinkin’ of settin’ you right here,” he confesses lowly, ensuring the curtains are drawn completely open with a quick swipe of his hands over the gauzy lengths previously covering the glass, “thinkin’ of fuckin’ you on my fingers like this.”
You situate yourself properly on the sill and he steps back, taking a comically focused once-over of your seated body, but the desire is still so thick it doesn’t even bring you to laugh when he hurriedly comes back to you. He spreads your thighs wide, his palms a fiery heat that couldn’t be further from where you want it.
Tugging at his collar, you reel him in to place an open kiss just under his ear. “Give it to me how you want.”
The glass cools the staggering temperature on your skin as he knocks you into it, your back sticking to its chilly surface in the midst of his swirling breaths, ghosting the edges of your shoulders before he hikes your thighs up higher to his waist.
“You ready for me?” he murmurs with a husky voice, and it’s a powerful shock from your head to your toes, seeing how easily he’s worked back up to needing you as he lowers a hand to your core. His fingers part you, a slick and effortless slip through your folds to your entrance. “Darlin’... you’re soakin’ my hand already. Did suckin’ my cock do all this to your sweet little cunt?”
A hushed, restrained sound tears from you and is quieted by his mouth covering yours when he rubs his calloused fingers over your clit, rasping those low words sweetly into you, nipping your bottom lip between his teeth as the digits travel lower. The arousal dripping from your cunt makes that first slide so easy, Jack bottoming out to his knuckles with a soft sigh. His stomach nearly touches your own still covered by the bunched nightgown and he pauses there, a reassuring squeeze to your side and then a smooth gracing of his free hand to hold your thigh tight to himself.
“This is where I’ve wanted to be,” he confesses, his nose drawing a line from your shoulder, delicately down to your chest as he bends and swipes his tongue broadly over your sensitive nipple. The signals from your brain to your muscles are jumbled now, feeling the heat of his wet tongue tasting the cum on your chest— it’s out of your control when you arch your back into him and whine, when your fingers tangle into his hair and tug.
He responds in a groan, licking across your skin to your unattended nipple which he suckles on gently, lapping at it. Jack curls his two thick fingers before straightening out to kiss you fleetingly on your lips; he parts and watches your eyes intently, a stray curl falling to hang between his brows.
“So full already, hm?” he teases, his thumb swiping slow patterns on your clit, and you lean further back into the glass with a pant, its surface no longer able to cool you down.
“Yes,�� you manage to respond in a gasp as he grants a second, deeper hit, a slight slapping sound causing you both to hug each other tighter and chuckle.
“Tight, sweet thing,” he groans, extended curls and strokes stretching you wholly around his hand, “take my fingers just right. Is that it, darlin’, were you made for me to fill you?”
“Mm,” you suck in sharp breaths, “mhm, you fill me up, Jack, you fill me up so good.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, and his chin hooks onto your shoulder, digging into it hard as he holds you with one toned arm snaking around your waist. Like this, your damp chest brushes his, his fingers pump and work you open another smidge wider as he pushes in, grinds his palm against your clit, pulls his fingers out a fraction of the way. The motions of his hips against his own wrist are gentle, unhurried for now, having already cum into your slack mouth.
With the flat of his free palm caressing your back through soft strokes, he draws his lips back and forth over the curve of your neck.
“You know what I see?” he asks, urging his knuckles deeper in the hardest plunge he's given you tonight, an agonizingly fiery touch to your clit. “Men, walkin’ around all dumb— could see me fuckin’ you right here on my hand if they’d just look up— shit, they got no clue I’m feelin’ the wettest little pussy, huh?”
“Fuck, Jack,” your nails dig into the lean and muscular bulge of his biceps as he keeps you upright against the glass, your thighs squeezing him so close he can hardly fuck you anymore— he just rubs and grinds his hand against you while remaining far inside your aching pussy, soaking his already drenched fingers with more slick.
“And only I’m gonna watch you cum,” he adds in a grunt, working himself into you with every last drop of energy he’s saved, his soft moans and sharp teeth spurring you closer to coming all over his perfect fingers. You might have gone longer if not for the irreversible, desperate need for him that sucking his cock had instilled in you— had you nearly dripping onto the floor, your body left unimaginably sensitive that each time he brushes up against you now, you dig deeper into his skin. He likes it though, and it makes him move with a crazed edge, his moans transforming into snarls.
“Only you…” you echo, starting to grind with him yourself, rolling into and meeting his short, fast thrusts, every muscle tensing and straining and it’s so close, almost there—
“There you go, doll, can feel you squeezin’ me so tight… cum on my hand, fuckin’ soak me, c’mon…”
“Jack, Jack I’m gonna—” Urgently, you tap at his shoulder with wide eyes and worried brows as you feel it start to happen, knowing how close you are to crying— your nails dig into his shoulders so intensely when you cum, jaw dropped and eyes shut and he makes a wincing yet completely pleased noise into your mouth; it’s cruel. You manage not to make a peep at the cost of losing large breaths, and it makes your orgasm all the more intense: light headed, woozy, and tingling numbness reaching the length of your body.
“Sweeter than fuckin’ honey when you do that,” he smiles widely, until his mouth drops fully open at the way you hug his hand inside from coming so hard around him. Your slick gathers between your thighs and you still can’t breathe, his face buried into the spot under your jaw as he pulls them out of you, dragging the pads up to your clit while the rest of it spreads throughout your folds. He stares down at it, at the wetness dripping and glistening from your core, and he groans again, blinking slowly.
Placing his palms on the sill by either side of your trembling figure, he hums, your smile against his skin buzzing at his insatiable drive, how he’d fucked your mouth and your pussy with such short rest, feeling the damp hair at the back of his neck. He drops his head down as an offering and you take him in a gentle cradle, kissing his forehead as he’d done to you while he nestles. He looks up and back down, waiting for another, your fingers smoothing the unruly hair from his face.
“Hell, if I don’t wanna fuck that pretty pussy every night till I die,” he exhales, another glance at his wet fingers, dropping a kiss to your collarbone.
“Oh, Jack,” you laugh, your heels hitting the wall underneath you, “if only you were here for that long.”
His face scrunches a little in confusion before his lips curve, “How many times do I have to remind you I ain’t leavin’ so soon?”
“As many times as it takes,” you whisper, fingers scratching down his arms, his own dipping into your cunt again without a warning, “fuck—”
“Yeah, baby doll,” he croons, “I got somethin’ to prove to you still?”
You nod with a greedy smirk and he retracts his fingers, taking them into his mouth after drawing a line between your breasts to taste your mingled releases, moaning in your ear. “Go n’ get on the bed. You’re gonna ride my face.”
A shiver chills your spine, mainly at the way his voice has dropped a miraculous third time, his hand landing a light swat on your ass when you pass him, shaky legs taking you toward the mattress. He follows to lay on his back, perpetually pleased with himself, arms outstretched and beckoning you forward. You crawl up to him and you can feel your own cum streaking your thighs as you move, soon beside his large body, and he raises his brows impatiently, “Well go on, sugar, I wanna taste some more of that.”
Stretching his neck every which way, his eyes crinkle as he grins between your thighs while you throw one over his shoulder and his arms fall behind him, fingers searching for yours until he laces them together, squeezing.
“You’re not tired yet, old cowboy?” you tease lightly, the force of it lost when he gives a broad swipe of his tongue and moans yet another time, indulgently, swallowing the remnants of your previous release.
“I ain’t ever gonna tire of this,” he replies, another lick from your entrance to your clit, such an easy slip of the muscle, your sensitivity dialed up too many extra notches. His brows knit together in effort, rough cheeks pleasantly scratching on your skin when he moves his head side to side, tongue hanging out of his mouth and edging with a perfect pressure all over your sensitive bud.
“I’d hope not,” you exhale, grinding your hips over his wet mouth until his grip moves to your thighs to prevent you from moving. His eyes look up at you keenly as he closes his lips around your clit and sucks, your head tipping in silent rapture as you take it all for him without the relief of motion.
“We go real nice together,” he grumbles into your slick center. Tightening the hold of your thighs, he laves his tongue all over you in focused circles, faster, with just enough force for your legs to start shaking around his handsome face, for another gush of arousal to spread over his swollen lips. All that’s left for you to handle it is to scream it out, how good he makes you feel, how precious, but the house is so silent and only you can hear the slick sounds of his mouth on your clit— he won’t even let you rub yourself over him. You can only bite your lip and hold your breath, yet little puffs and moans sneak out when he does something unforeseen, like a single bite on your thigh or a gentle nip to challenge you— it’s all on purpose and easily noticed by his gratified face.
He tugs your clit a short, miniscule distance and lets it go, shaking his head when you mope over the loss of contact.
“Are you tryin’ for me, sugar?”
“You’re being tough on me,” you whine, shimmying further up his body to regain his lips that are brightly shining.
“If I ain’t tough then it ain’t right,” he whispers, “stay still and quiet for me and I’ll take you out again.”
He tips his head down and forward, swiping his prominent nose to spread you further open, but you don’t even consider the promise of a gift, your focus on the return of his soaked tongue to your throbbing core, biting hard on your lip to quell the need to cry.
“Is my darlin’ gonna come? You gonna cum all over my face? Gimme another one, dolly.” His mouth latches back onto your clit and you can’t think, much less form an answer in your blank head where all you see is white, or maybe blinding stars, or just plain nothingness as you let go, his moustache wet with you, his lips dripping.
By some miracle, the scream you fend off becomes so high pitched in your throat that nothing makes it out of you save for the helpless cry of, “Jack!” as you tremble around his cheeks.
“Yes,” he grunts, and thank goodness it’s muffled by your soaking core; your fingers finally escape his hold to grip at his hair with a fierce, unforgiving tug, and that softer sound fills the room again while your body freezes up and you cum harder this time, covering him, coating him. He grumbles something again, but it’s nothing you could hope to make out in the crushing wave of pleasure that hits you— the light sensation does not leave you, though the shaking eases off as Jack places a tender kiss to your clit, and you jolt at just that velvet brush, his eyes turning sympathetic. You breathe deep, slumping with great exhaustion and the dazed happiness of having him in your room now as you lift your thigh from his body and he leans his head up to grant a quick kiss while it slips away from him.
“Knew you could be quiet,” he smiles under the shine of your second release, resting his arms open over the blanket to welcome you into them.
“As if you don’t make it hard.” Huffing, it’s with a reciprocal smile that you crawl back to him, nearly toppling over on your way with the weakness of his own power against your body, and he chuckles at you, not shying away from his joyous teasing when you throw him a half-glare.
“Did I wear you out again?” he questions, guiding you into his side, turning his body over yours to swipe his tangy tongue over your bottom lip.
Whimpering, it turns into a cheerful giggle as he drops pecks over your nightgown, wrapping his finger around the tail of the ribbon.
“You just keep going, don’t you, Jack?” you cup his face in your hands, and it’s now that he adopts a sheepish expression, turning his eyes away to tilt his neck and kiss your stomach once more.
“Until you ask me to stop, darlin’.” He lends two more kisses, one to each breast, and then gathers the straps of your nightgown from the pooling of fabric underneath your chest, tenderly helping your arms through the holes. You admire him quietly as you sit up to ease the gesture, letting his fingers guide the intricate lace edges back to your shoulders. He pats the cotton down to smooth it, your thumb stroking over his left eyebrow. His hands pry under you to wrap his arms around your middle, his cheek resting over your belly as you scratch through his dark hair.
“I think you’re softer than you realize,” you whisper, twirling a lock around your finger and he peeks up, the apples of his cheeks rising in a twinkling smile.
“I can shoot a gun a million times but I sure don’t like it more than kissin’ you,” Jack coos, tickling up your sides and swatting away your protesting hands until you make an involuntary squeak and his eyes widen, hurriedly covering your mouth with his own. You titter over his smooth lips, his weight pinning you as he opens his mouth, taking more. “I’d think I’d have sold my soul to the devil to end up here with you if I didn’t know any better.”
You let the next bubbling ripple of affection take over you when he whispers that with his gleaming eyes, and you kiss him three more times, each slower than the last.
He rests there for some time, indulging in the carding of your fingers over his scalp, and he ensures you’ve drifted off before he rises in search of a cloth. He finds a green one folded by your petticoat, his fingers briefly dragging across its white lace before he dips the cloth in the small dish of water left beside it. He crawls back up beside you, lazily yet with careful attention guiding it under your slip and over your breasts, relieving you of the stickiness. You stir but don’t wake— his touch is too light, yet still unlike a feather— he cleans you off, sets the cloth back in its spot, and resumes his position, nestled up next to you.
-
Sneaking into Jack’s room— or him into yours— becomes a habitual routine after the goodnight click of Mrs. Adler’s door, though you often find yourself with an early visitor with eyes too bright and a needy little grin on his face. It follows his giddy lips on your neck hours before in scarce moments of isolation from other guests, or after he’s stared too long across the bar, and to ease the tension, he’ll ride to take Sylvie to stretch her legs, a sympathetic look on his face at the door knowing you can’t join.
And he wears you out. Nightly. A simmering threat to your timeliness in the morning that you can’t let go of. A single time, he’d taken the sheets with him in a rapid roll onto the floor as Mrs. Adler knocked and knocked outside, calling for you to rise, until she barged in and the thump had to be blamed on yourself, standing in your disheveled chemise. Her shifty eyes become less of a fear in your head and more of a laughing stock, though not as much as Jack was in his stupid course of action to thump on the floor behind the side of the mattress, taking the blankets, too.
His dignity is not lost, though, each time you press on him about it— his grip tightens over your thighs as you straddle his lap, feeling the impression of his leather settling into your skin.
A rare clump of clouds settles over town the following week, lingering long enough to darken this evening further and forcing an early lighting of the lamps inside, a cozy glow over the hectic and crazed state of the bar.
“Let’s not slack, dearie,” Mrs. Adler sings in her urgently high-pitched voice as you handle the treacherous beast of the card game hours, handling too many requests for the strongest liquor from the cabinet, working your wrists as you open new bottles and impatient sighs crumble out of overworked throats.
Jack glances at her, a rapid flick of his angry eyes as he sets his glass of whiskey down, furrowing his brows in obvious disagreement with her words.
“She’s doin’ fine,” you hear him grumble, and you don’t have it in you to turn and face him to offer your surely-silencing glare, and without it he continues, “think we could offer a little patience.”
Chest fluttering, you shut your eyes with a bothersome huff, setting your hands flat over the counter as you wait for Mrs. Adler’s response, and the other men waiting at the dining table chat over things well beyond you, another fleeting mention of the Statesmen— but Jack remains silent along with her, and you can already picture the way he must be maintaining a hard stare at the old woman to leave her increasingly frazzled.
“My girl does this every day,” she states primly, blocking his view of your back with her own body after an uncoordinated waddle, “you keep out of it.”
Jack scoffs, soft but pointed, the wood groaning under the slide of his glass as he moves it aside, “If you cared to notice, ma’am—”
Spinning on your boot, away from the assortment of glasses set over the counter in their stage of finishing touches, you raise a hand, his first name almost slipping out until you choke on the unspoken word, widened eyes earning a mirrored expression from Jack, “It’s alright, Mr. Daniels,” you soothe, and his smirk is much too telling in his amusement of your spluttering, that you’d called him the old, proper name.
Mrs. Adler huffs a victorious breath as she checks over the full and heavy tray, granting approval while you giggle at Jack’s silly face made behind her back, followed by a wink of his eye.
He closes his eyes as Mrs. Adler finally limps off into her study— what she achieves in there he does not know— and watches you with affection and a warming dose of admiration in his stomach as you handle the tray, setting down shining crystal glasses on the table, a soft smile on your face as the youngest card player offers his thanks. They rarely ever do.
“You look real nice,” he drawls as you round the counter, his elbows sliding along the surface as he leans in, all sparkling eyes and teeth with his wide grin as he follows your steps. “I think I’d like to get my hands on—”
His words fall away to a whisper as you shake your head in feigned annoyance, the laughter stealing your breath as you lean opposite him, taking in the sly look on his face and the pull of his shirt across his shoulders. His hand reaches for yours, tentatively, and you’re powerless against the sweet touch on your fingers as he traces them out, pulling your palm into a bed of his two hands.
You watch as his eyes set on the random patterns he draws, eyelashes curling against his face every time he blinks, your conscious mind soon oblivious to your placement in relation to the large group at the dining table— but it doesn’t matter. They’re as absorbed in their gambling as you are in his focused touch and feel, your heart an obnoxious flutter when he smiles up at you, a perfect mix of kind and sultry darkness.
“I’d like to get my hands on you,” he murmurs, those repeated words spoken lower this time and with a twinkle, raising the back of your hand to his lips. A gentle press, your eyes locked together in a soft gaze to match, and he gives you back your hand as the spell of slowed-time is broken by a shocking round of cheering from the group behind you both.
With a subdued grin, you ease yourself away from the magnetic pull of your lips to his, “You’ve always got your hands on me.”
“And in,” he huffs, stifling a snicker at the fifth roll of your eyes today, watching the ends of your tied apron’s ribbon swing around over the length of your skirt.
“You’d better find something to do in the meantime, or I’ll be asking Mrs. Adler to send you off herself.”
Jack shudders in a fake paddy of fear, the miniscule shakes of his body diminishing the sooner he realizes the severity of your words, and he merely chuckles. “Why’d you want to get rid of me?”
The pleading pull of his face and the wide and warm eyes he gives are somehow not enough to stop you from gesturing your head towards the pile of dirty dishes from dinner, waiting beside the basin. “You’re distracting.”
“Sweetpea, I’m ‘fraid that’s what you’ve got yourself caught up in,” Jack rests his chin in his palm, eyeing the clearing weather outside, “if you insist on woundin’ me, I think I’ve got a horse who needs to go for a ride, and a little lady who’ll have to join us next time…”
“I’ll see you later, Jack,” you whisper, rounding the edge of his ear with your fingers, easing his hair back into place and he adopts a light blush— softer things always more efficient in pausing his heartbeat than harsher things— and he grabs his hat left to the side of him, placing it over his head and bidding you a caring goodbye, “Miss me, darlin’.”
-
Once the room has cleared at last, leaving you in that familiar spot with soapy hands, sore feet, and a wandering mind, you arrange the wet dishes to dry, stacking each on top of the other with meticulous attention. You dry your hands on the fabric of your apron, rough cotton soaking up the water, your back leaning into the hard edge of the bar behind you. The strain in your neck grows sharper as you push your head back, groaning, willing away the next few hours until you can put your feet to rest upon Jack’s lap.
And at the thought of him, a whistle from the exterior shoots your stream of mental pictures down as your head whips to look out the window, and there he is— Jack, thighs spread wide over Sylvie’s back as he urges her to stop, his eyes straining to find you through the window. Stomach twisting, you make a speedy trip to the stash of berries hidden away, and you pull a handful of them into your apron’s pocket before sparing the parlour a thorough peek and slipping out the front door.
It’s not loud enough for you to make out, but it must be Jack’s voice in a baby soft tone as he tells Sylvie what sounds like “there she is,” with a pat between her perky ears and a smile towards you.
“Hello,” you grin, stepping to the edge of the porch where you meet the two of them, shamelessly devouring the way he sits tall upon her in the dying sunlight clear of clouds, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes, a bandana hugging his neck under his glistening throat. “Back so soon?”
“It was her idea,” Jack pokes, leaning back in the saddle as Sylvie adjusts her hooves into place over the dust and sparse blades of wheatgrass. “Suppose I had to lead her here, though…”
With a hand gliding along her wide neck, you watch his smile only grow in size as he watches you gather the berries from your pocket and throw a quizzical look his way, to which he nods enthusiastically, leaning forward again to watch and guide.
You call her name softly, approaching her from a better angle, and she makes an odd pattern with the movement of her head before she digs into your offered palm of treats, her wide mouth a great tickle on your skin that you try not to flinch at.
“Nice girls,” Jack whispers, swiping his hand over Sylvie’s shoulder, then turning his attention to you. “No more flak from the lady, I’m hopin’?”
“No, haven’t seen her since,” you giggle, “you know, Jack, that was kind what you did, but I am still fine.”
Sylvie chomps down the rest of your stash of berries, licking the leftover juices off your palm as you gasp, retracting your arm, and Jack extends his hand far across to you in a warm beckoning. You give him the dry one and he laughs when he notices, “I ain’t afraid of no horse’s mouth,” steering you around to where he’s sat on the saddle.
“You’re not even afraid of Mrs. Adler,” you say bluntly, resting your laced hands over the meat of his thigh and then your chin on top, and Jack stares down at your widened eyes, his chest stuttering with a slightly choked breath.
“I came here to see you, darlin’, to tell you somethin’.” Running his thumb over your hand, he starts to lean his body down, your own straightening for his lips to meet your ear in a warm breath, sending ice down your spine and a melting heat between your thighs.
He waits for your prompt, his radiating need causing your posture to wither as you slant up and into him, “What is it?”
Whatever upward curve your lips adopted seconds before falls away as your eyes close, that heat between your thighs now wetter, your grip on his leg tight enough to pinch.
“I’m gonna take you out again tonight, gonna lay you in the grass and fuck you dumb, listenin’ to you whine loud as you can.”
He’s utterly pleased with the visible, hitching breath you can no longer take in, your chest pausing in its stunted passing, and he straightens up his back again to look down at you with his face shadowed under his hat. “Ain’t that somethin’ old girl, the little lady is speechless…” Jack coos to the horse and she puffs, followed by another pat of her hoof on the ground, and his grin is a mix of genuine and egotistical happiness.
“Jack,” you purr, all bothered and wobbly-knees, a helpless look in your eye as you tug the looped rope, and he prepares to ride back off. He doesn’t partake in your pleading this time, instead giving a squeeze of his legs over Sylvie’s back.
“Same place, darlin’,” he calls, “I expect you.”
A backward glance and a tip of his hat as courtesy— or to make up for his foolish teasing— and his figure dies off in the gunpowder dust behind him and his girl, his jacket the same one you’d worn your first time away.
-
It’s cool and dark the next time you step out onto the porch, carefully shutting the door behind you, locking it with your key. You rub your hands over the sides of your arms as you creep over the wood, peeking past the pillars before descending the three short steps. Same place, he’d said, so you set off in the direction of the stables, bathed in the soft light of the spaced lamp posts, the same exhilarating rush as the first time bubbling head to toe.
“Ever heard of a sweet little maid ‘round here?” Jack’s happy rumbling sounds just behind you, turning into laughter at the yelp you let out, its sound squeaky and fearful until he catches you by the waist, pulling your back into his chest to sway your body around aimlessly. “Works for a Mrs. Adler, prettiest face you ever saw…”
An endeared giggle falls out of you, mouth covered immediately by your hand when he comes to place his chin on your shoulder, his fingers pressing tightly to your middle. His clothing feels rough by your neck, unlike anything else you’ve felt him wearing against you, but his cheek is soft and freshly shaven, his lips hungrily kissing behind your ear.
“Oh, I’m not so sure I have…” you murmur, allowing yourself to sink backward into his promising support, and his hum is sweet into your skin when you say so, arms squeezing you just enough for your feet to lift from the ground.
“She’s got angel eyes,” he whispers, a finger coming to trail down your cheek as he lets you back down, until his hand cups your chin, turning your head sideways to capture your lips in a deep, swelling kiss. Your own hand rises to mirror his gesture, knees suddenly like water with their wobbly weakness, and the ball of your foot scrapes over the dust as he tugs you even closer, tasting your lips.
“That might ring a bell,” you smile when you finally part, stroking your thumb over his jaw. He likes the way it feels, tilting himself further into your light grip of his face. The world surrounding you will never be the same level of interest when he stands before you— a daydream of an outing only seems as sweet if he’s there. A guidance, of sorts, a protector.
Roaming your eyes over him, a surprised gasp follows that welcoming kiss when you notice his top half covered in a navy blue poncho, its edges finished with white tassels and the wool adorned with white lines making intricate patterns over the length and width of it.
“Where have you been hiding this from me?” you simper, picking up the edge of it to feel the slightly scratchy material. He grins, weight shifting to one foot with a cocked hip, hands resting at the base of his suspenders underneath.
“Hidin’ it?”
“You’ve always got that jacket on,” you murmur, leaning upward, grabbing his face in an internal fit of fondness at seeing him covered in the blanket-like garment, giving him a harsher kiss that surprises him enough to nearly stumble backwards. He gains his balance, beaming against your mouth as he steadies the both of you, the world returning.
“You sure keep me on my toes, little lady,” he breathes, brows raised in bashfulness that you forget he has stored in that cocky brain. “Don’t you stop.”
Humming, your hand falling to rest on his chest as you recall more private contexts to his last words, you notice he wears a cross-body leather satchel underneath the poncho. “What have you got in there?”
“I can’t be full of surprises if you wanna make me spill ‘em all,” he teases, pushing his nose into yours, “come on, just you n’ me tonight.”
With your fingers laced together, Jack leads you through the familiar field to an unfamiliar spot at the top of a climbing hill, large rocks worsening the upward trek under the minimal light.
His hands find the backs of your thighs as he helps you over the last hump and your frustrated huff gets lost in your throat when you realize his hands are helping you up under your skirt instead of over.
“Jack,” you guffaw, using your biceps to push up and over the hard surface and he plays dumb behind you, a deep chortling following as you roll over to the flat space of dry grass above it. Looking ahead you notice a small gathering of wood placed in a circle around the center of the clearing in the trees while Jack rolls up next to you, much more gracefully with what must be years of practice.
He shares a sideways glance with you, “What?”
His pouty lips drag downward in his falsely innocent question, your eyes rolling without annoyance but with affection. He grabs your hand again, tugging you near the woodpile and he reaches into the satchel, revealing a box of matches in his palm.
“Is this what you did earlier?” you ask, a bewildered softness easing over your shoulders, and he nods with a grin.
“Sylvie n’ I came here to get it ready.”
Sliding the box open, he strikes the match against the rough side of the cover sleeve and the spark ignites a smoking, small flame that he holds to a coil of waxed thread under the arranged sticks and wood. It catches on and flourishes upward, sprinkling tiny sparks that rise then fall by Jack as he recoils, standing back up to his feet.
“How’s that?” he looks at you, pulling you into his warm side, your fingers instinctively wrapping around a tassel. You raise your other hand to hover over the fire, its heat so pleasant and lively on your skin and you look back at him with the same fondness as always for his generous gifts, that might not even be considered a gift to anyone else but you.
“Thank you, Jack.” On your tiptoes, you place a kiss on his cheek filled with all the words you can’t think to say— it’s only a campfire, and to you, it holds all his care, burning there.
“There’s more,” he whispers, and his fingers rise to touch where your lips had just been, then he looks to them and you, smiling. “Said you wished you could run,” he starts, pointing to an old, battered tin can sitting atop a tree stump several feet away, “reckon there’s a few things you’ll need to learn first.”
From underneath the wool, he pulls out one of his revolvers and it shines in the flickering fire, freshly polished. He extends his hand, your own hesitantly touching it’s handle, cupping the barrel with the other as you slowly hold it on your own.
“Jack, I really don’t know about—”
“Careful,” he coos, circling back to stand behind you and placing his hands on your hips, he helps you adjust your grip with the beginning of his lesson whispered into your ear, his hands gentle as they cover yours. “Two hands.”
“I’m not sure I’m the gun slinging type,” you whisper nervously, your palms becoming clammy just handling the weapon, and you remember when its silver glint was pointed at Mr Porter, under its power.
“Always assume a gun’s loaded,” he continues, aiding you in extending your arms out, the aim at the can improving as you go. “Feet apart.”
With the toe of his boot on the inside of your ankle, he pushes your feet further apart until shoulder-width, and your shoe slides over the dry grass as you suck in a deep breath at the physical order.
“Hold it tighter,” he whispers next, ensuring your fingers are hugging the grip tightly, your other hand cupping the trigger guard firmly. “Don’t leave your finger on the trigger unless you’re aimed and ready.”
Jack is rasping now, a growing hardness on your ass from watching you handle his own weapon with determination and he pinches your hips, inciting a gasp as you try to keep your arms steady.
“The cylinder's full,” he adds, “you hit the can and I’ll make good on my promise.”
With the shot of arousal that comes after his words and the reminder of his promise to fuck you hard over the grass, it’s too easy to convince yourself that you’ll miss every shot.
“Won’t somebody hear it?” you question, turning your head as far as you can and he hums thoughtfully, pinching you softer.
“It’s luck if you hear a gunshot from a distance,” Jack soothes. And it hits you, that when Mr. Porter and Mr. Bryant started shooting blindly in the house, that those were the closest bullets had ever been to you— and here, you hold them in your palms.
“Go on, sugar, knock it over and I’ll fuck you right by this fire.”
A whine escapes you before you can aim it again, the grip even sweatier than before, the fire merely a glint now as you focus on the target tin.
Locking your grip around the handle, your pointers steadying the direction, you shut one eye, then the other to test the placement, and you pull back the hammer with a stretch of your thumb.
“I’m scared,” you breathe as your arms remain pointed forward, and Jack nods, applying pressure to your shoulders with his palms.
“I’ll keep you steady. S’okay if you miss.” Jack rubs some of the tension away, your arms growing tired from holding them up as you make one last adjustment. The jolt when you pull the trigger is more powerful than you’d expected, and Jack keeps you still as your body reacts to the sharp sound and the full shock of it. The bullet only just skims the side of the can, a tinkling sound following the jarring shot from the barrel.
“Fuck,” Jack breathes, his eyes wide and his smile too, when he looks from your near-shot to your frightened face turning into confidence. He throws his hat to the side, smoothing his hand through his hair before bending slightly behind you, “that was fuckin’ close, darlin’. Go again.”
His tone is pure excitement as you shake off the last lingering threads of apprehension, and you aim again, not a one inch difference from your first shot, pulling the hammer down a second time.
You place your pointer over the solid trigger and Jack’s breath hitches as he waits and watches intently, his hands still supporting your shoulders. This time, when your upper body jostles back from the force, the shot is farther off but still close, hitting the bark where a small explosion of wood chips scatter to the grass and you startle at the cracking noise, casting a worried look to Jack.
“Keep tryin’,” he soothes, cuddling his cheek to the side of your neck as he cozies up, and you’re certain it’s not the best condition for a shooting lesson, the middle of your thighs gathering slick and your palms more nervous sweat. With a deep breath, you stretch your arms out once more, muscles pulling up tight as you adjust your feet, your eyesight on the tin can reflecting the flames of the little campfire.
“That’s it,” Jack whispers as you touch your finger to the hammer, “focus.”
Scoffing, you settle your aim, determined to ignore the way he’s still pressing up against you.
“You’re doin’ great,” his voice scratches just before you pull against the trigger’s resistance and the bullet releases, harder it feels like, and pierces the tin with an incredibly loud metallic pang, sending it fast off the stump. Although you’re not too far from it, you don’t trust it yet; looking back down at the weapon in your hand and then to him, his smile already turns smug. It’s a surprise to hit it at the same time that it’s not— luck or natural talent, you don’t think you’ll ever find out. He shakes his head with pride dripping all over, crushing you into his side with a tense squeeze of his arm, your neck fitting in the bend of his elbow.
“That’s too quick,” you breathe in modesty that Jack tells you to shush away, as your disbelieving eyes fall back on the tree stump, tin can-less. “I wasn’t far away enough.”
“Come on, darlin’.” He disembarks, jogs to the stump, picks up the can behind it. A hole burns through the center on both sides. “Still shot it on the third try.”
When he arrives at your feet again, you peer down at the silver gun in your hold. Struggling to accept your own accuracy, you slowly hand it back to him.
“It'll be harder next time,” he purrs, sliding it back into its holster pocket, “but I think you’ll make the most charmin’ gunfighter in the whole damn world.”
“That’s your title,” you smile, brushing the dark hair from his forehead, curling your fist into the wool draped over him. “And the most handsome, too.”
Jack’s chest puffs out against yours as he preens at your softly-spoken compliment, the tone of his hum pitched in a questioning way to urge you on to continue.
“I’d rather like to learn more about that lasso,” you say instead, fingering where it’s attached to his hip, and he looks at you through his eyelashes, closing his hand around the one fisted in his poncho.
“Hell, if I taught you the ropes I doubt you’d let me out of your room for a whole week, darlin’. We’d better work up to that…”
“Oh well,” you tease, perching yourself up to level your lips with his ear, “you’re too soft on me to be my teacher anyway.”
“Too soft?” He raises his brows, eager to know, causing you to step back as he advances on you.
“Too easy. I ought to shoot that can three more times from ten more feet away just to be sure I’ve learned.”
Jack lays the thick blanket next to the crackling fire after pulling it out of the satchel, motioning for you to come.
“Sugar, I’ll show you rough,” he grumbles, dragging you down to the blanket with him, your chest thumping square on his when you land, a stunted breath into his mouth. His promise, listenin’ to you whine as loud as you can, returns to you now as he holds the back of your neck and opens his lips to brush yours, nipping your lower lip to earn the first wince.
“Don’t disappoint me,” you taunt, landing yourself rolled over and pinned under his heavy weight as he lifts the poncho from his head and drapes it over your bodies, hidden and warm together as you share the fiery heat of yourselves and the physical fire beside you.
“I’d hate nothin’ more than to disappoint you.” He keeps his eyes trained on your face as his fingers creep up your leg, a soft ghosting until he reaches the stark wetness compared to your dry skin everywhere but your core and he’s already groaning at just the sensation of your slick covering his fingers. “Think I could fill you right now, hm? Soakin’ me so fast…”
“I need you to fuck me as hard as you can,” you demand, your head tipping back against the ground underneath the blanket, heat accumulating in your own makeshift tent of the dark poncho. His fingers twitch over your clit as he watches your face twist in effort to get your last coherent thoughts out, “This is where I can cry.”
“Jesus,” his head falls into your shoulder and he rubs his cock on your thigh, covered by his trousers. He’s hard and thick, just as he was watching you shoot his gun, and he lifts your skirt higher, bunching the fabric at your waist. “You always get what you ask for from me.”
Blindly searching with your fingers, you find the buttons of his trousers and pull them open, carefully taking his cock out, the tip leaking generously onto your skin. You spread it for him though it runs out quickly, but your own burning arousal is enough for the two of you as he settles himself closer, his hair flopping out of place. His moustache brushes against your temple when he spreads your legs wider, a soothing slide of your skin over the blanket before you feel his cock running through your slick folds, and it’s enough to start whining. Even the little sounds you let out at the house are suppressed and quietened— here, there is no one but the two of you.
“Give it all to me, baby doll,” he rasps over your throat as he positions himself and pushes past your entrance, slowly stretching you open on his thick cock and your thighs fall open wider, too, your breath heavy and low for him to bask in. “Ain’t that sweet…”
Jack’s eyes carry the glint of the fire beside your bodies as he stays there for some moments, letting you squirm all you need before he flattens you to the ground with his chest, cooing encouraging gentleness to contrast with the untamed way he’s going to fuck you here, on the blanket, again. His cock pushes deeper with the added mass, your whimper not enough when he finally thrusts and hits his hips to your wide-spread thighs and works the wetness of you all over his cock.
“Ja— Jack—” you whine, and his hot hand soon comes to glide over the innermost part of your thigh, rubbing it firmly as if he’s about to—
He spanks your thigh and earns the high-pitch moan he’s been working for all along, drawing himself back to return with a harsh thrust as he keeps his hand on the stinging sensation, groaning out his nose.
“Fu-uuck, there we go, that’s what I wanted,” he grunts through stunted breaths as he sets a new, punishing pace, sliding with ease in and out, hitting deep inside to brush against that satisfying spot that when he slaps the same part of your leg, the pleasure from both makes you cry louder, moan louder.
He draws the wool tighter around his back as he lowers his lips to your mouth, emitting an animalistic groan over your face when you clench around his cock and pull him in closer for another open-mouthed kiss, true and full.
“Oh, god,” you groan, his hand caressing the underside of your thigh, until he draws it up to push your knee on your chest, fitting his hand in the bend of your leg.
“Gimme more, sugar,” he demands, landing a sharp swat to the side of your ass lifted off the ground that gives him your neediest, filthiest sound yet as you fist his hair, taking his brutal pace.
“Jack, fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Fuck,” he curses back harder, “I’m gonna steal you every god damn night for this.” Jack hisses through bared teeth on your collarbone, keening when you raise your hips to meet his. The fire rises beside you at the same time a wave of building pressure in your abdomen knocks through your lower half, and you place your hands on his face, sliding them up to meet his hair.
A shaky breath puffs out of you, the sting of his spankings spreading over your leg as you crane your neck and cry out while he buries himself and grinds against your clit, “You just get wetter n’ wetter for me,” he remarks hoarsely, “just can’t help but need me, hm?”
“I... Yes,” you sigh into his heated neck, your limbs softening in their hold of him as he fucks you hard over the blanket, his grip deathly on the side of your thigh.
“I want to hear it, darlin’, say it to me,” he scrapes, his voice at the bottom of his register, and when the words get stuck in your mind and jumbled out of order from the fullness of your core, he draws himself out and rolls you onto your stomach. Mindlessly, empty, you whine with an equal hoarseness to his own, the end of it pushed out prematurely when he flattens his chest over your back, lining his cock back up with your soaking entrance.
“I’ll pull every last pretty sound you got left in you if I have to.”
The words are a terrible blow to your senses, sparking a rapid increase in the sound of rushing blood in your ears as he pushes your thigh up to the side and presses down on it with his palm.
“Please…” you breathe, “I’m so close— fuck me, please fuck me again—”
Shutting your eyes, hoping to feel him push himself back inside you, you instead are met with a final, cracking swat on your leg that sends you wailing as Jack waits for you to scream it, “Tell me, sugar!”
“I need you, Jack— I need you!”
It doesn’t sound like your own voice. Never has it been clouded by so much desire and such a sinful edge to your witless begging, but it’s enough for him. A push forward, and he fills you; his own sounds have grown needier too, reaching far out. He plants a hand by your face and you grab onto his wrist as he shoves his cock repeatedly deeper and at this angle, you could consider the punishing stretch of him painful, but it’s everything you need, causing you to whine a step higher every time his hips hit your ass.
“You’re all I fuckin’ think about, darlin’,” Jack mouths at your earlobe, your bodies turning slick under the poncho and your clothes, “here you are, shootin’ my gun n’ lettin’ me fuck your tight little pussy, beggin’ for me— gonna make me fuckin’ cum.”
Your jaw drops and an involuntary squeal stumbles from your hanging lip, Jack snarling behind you as he plunges again, hooking his hands under your shoulders and splaying his fingers wide over the tops of them.
It’s a taut stretch of your chest when he pulls on you like that, the soft curl of his hair tickling your neck as he nestles his face to yours and muffles his grunts and groans. You pull up tighter around him, squeezing his cock, nearly driving him to collapse over your back when he feels it happen and what is easily his hardest, neediest and wrecked groan tears out and spreads over your limbs with the rumbling breath he takes after.
“Jaaack,” you whisper, his movements heavily weighing on you, your body resting just at the precipice of something overwhelming, “So… full..”
“I’m gonna fuck my cum into that sweet cunt.” Jack fists the blanket with his supporting hand and the next time he rams his hips forward, a full-bodied scream fills the air, and once more, you squeeze him tighter as you cum hard around his cock, your nails starting to dig into his wrist as he fucks you through it.
“Baby doll, you’re too fuckin’ good to me— squeeze me so fuckin’ tight when you cum, keep it comin’—”
“Oh god, oh god, oh god— fuck!” You can’t stop gushing around him as his thrusts lose rhythm, as he focuses more on the sounds you’re making and the grip you have on his cock and it just won’t end, tears beginning to form in your eyes while the movements never cease.
“That is just heavenly,” he says with a strained laugh, “shit, you really did need me, huh? You want my cum inside you too? Want to be spoiled?”
“Yes!” you cry, miraculously raising your ass just a little against his cock as the orgasm finally calms, a growl and a bite on your shoulder at your ceaseless will to beg.
“Take it.” One final, gorgeous moan from his throat and he buries himself, a wet warmth painting your walls, his chest deflating as he settles around your back and rubs your thigh in a soft contrast to what was his stinging swats minutes before. He blows and pants to recuperate, and as he brings himself out, you feel the warmth spreading and dripping down to your clit. For a moment, you share the breaths you’re both trying to catch, but the sensation of his cum sliding over your skin is yet another obstacle to returning to a manageable state of being.
“This…” he whispers, taking his hand back, leaning on his other elbow to support himself as he slides his fingers under your skirt to lead them to your swollen cunt, “is my favourite, darlin’.” He spreads his cum over your folds, milky liquid sliding wherever he traces, and you push back on your knees to raise yourself for him while he guides it back inside you, your throat tired but still whimpering as he pushes his fingers in.
“Keep me inside,” he murmurs on your temple, urging you to lay back down over the plushy blanket, and as you relax, mussed and twinkling by the fire, he drapes the poncho over your body, tucking the fabric under your sides. He strokes your cheek with the dry hand, lifting your head to his lap as he carefully sits by you, your eyes delicately fluttering closed.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks, and without opening your eyes, you shake your head no. Jack makes a purring sound, considering the moans his actions pulled out of you, and he begins to stroke your face some more. “Hope I never do,” he adds softly, studying your peaceful expression under the firelight and stars, “you’re soft.”
The last two words make you blink and smile up at him, finally granting him a peek which he returns with curved lips, and you know that “soft” doesn’t mean “weak” when he says it.
“I got an idea of where to take you next, if you think you can handle it...”
-
tags for yeehonk idiot:
@filthybookworm @frannyzooey @javier-pena @javierpcna @astroboots @userdindja @pedros-mustache @princessxkenobi @trashcora @writerdee1701 @thelemongeneration @libraryofrecs @fan-of-encouragement @herb-welch @writeforfandoms @queenofthecloudss @leannawithacapitala @the-feckless-wonder @kesskirata @fuck-goes-on @lawfulgranola@apascalrascal @prismaticpizza @xemmaloveskillianx @littlemissoblivious @quica-quica-quica @spideysimpossiblegirl @little-big-mac2 @recklesswit @frankie-catfish-morales
let me know whether you’d like to be added or removed!
#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels x reader#pedro pascal#agent whiskey#pedrostories#userastrid#tuserdaniela#userdindja#xuserannie#userhai#jack daniels x you#agent whiskey x you#western au#jack daniels i love you forever#no devil dealings here...
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HEY BESTIE ITS ME AGAIN! i was wondering if i could get a will request with angst. LOTS AND LOTS of angst about will and the reader seeming to always miss each other in sense of relationships and because of that the reader distanced themself from will so months pass by and they both are single then and they run into each other and eventually get into a fight bc he’s upset that they ghosted him and eventually have an angry love confession and happy ending?
thank u sm bff
YOU WANT ANGST, I"LL GIVE YOU ANGST...in a fairly decent amount cause this was hard to write for some reason🙃 sorryyyy @poulterfilms
~~~~~~~~~~
Why did life have to be so hard?
You watched as Will got ready for his date that night, giddy and excited to be going out, rambling on and on about how nice this person was, who he met a few days prior.
You just smiled and nodded along, pretending that your heart wasn't painfully throbbing with jealousy.
You hated this feeling, longing. It was strange, you never felt this way before with Will. You've been friends with him as long as you can remember, seen him have plenty of dates with other people. So why did you suddenly feel like you wanted him all to yourself? It wasn't like you at all.
"So, what do you think?" Will asked, snapping you out of your thoughts, slowly spinning around to show off his outfit.
You plastered on that same fake smile that you unfortunately got into the habit of doing nowadays. "You look great, Will. You always do." You didn't mean to sound so sad, but it came out that way and you internally cringed.
Will cocked his head with a confused grin. "You okay?"
You nodded your head eagerly. "Of course!" You stood up from where you sat and quickly adjusted the collar of Will's shirt, struggling to pull away when he smiled at you. "I always have to fix that damn shirt collar." You chuckled weakly, forcing yourself to take a couple steps back.
Will copied your chuckle, turning around to do a once over in his mirror. "What would I do without you?" He joked, but you frowned for a split second before shaking your head.
"Well, don't wanna keep the lucky date waiting, right?" You patted him on the shoulder, maybe a little too hard since Will rubbed his shoulder with a grimace afterwards.
"You are absolutely right. I'll be off then, night, love!" Will placed a quick kiss to your cheek, heading out of his house, leaving you alone with the ghost of the kiss lingering on your cheek. The innocent, and most importantly, friendly kiss.
You looked around the living room solemnly, looking to your feet to see the two pups you were trusted to take care of while the owner was out of his date. Welp, at least I have his dogs to share my misery with...
You had no idea how you let this happen. You've always seen Will as a friend, and nothing more. You've both hyped each other up when one of you scored a date. Will has seen you off to plenty of dates and never had a problem with it, so why couldn't you do the same for him?
Unbeknownst to you, Will actually has had similar feelings. He didn't know how it happened, but he developed strong feelings for you. He clearly knew you didn't feel the same, and he had to sit idly by as he watched you be in and out of relationships with people who weren't him.
He's never been one to get jealous, but he'd definitely be lying if he said he never was jealous of your partners. He wanted to be the one to hold your hand, he wanted to be the one to open doors for you, to be the one you smiled at when he wasn't looking. He decided to move on, even if it was the last thing he wanted. But his respect for you trumped his lust that he felt at the same time, he just wished he could turn his feelings off.
You decided to hole up in your apartment after Will came back from his date, the date that went "extremely well." The "he'd definitely be seeing this person again" date.
You couldn't say you were devastated, for obvious reasons. You didn't want to tell Will you had feelings for him, and you didn't want to be selfish. You always felt selfish nowadays.
You just felt like a burden.
It was hard hanging out with Will, always having to hear about his new partner, how they're so nice and kind and caring and apparently so fuckin' amazing...it made you want to vomit. It made you not want to hang out with him as much anymore, but thankfully, that decision was made for you. Will didn't have time for you anymore, he really wanted to make his relationship with this new person work, more than he wanted to keep your friendship strong, you thought.
Eventually, you just stopped trying to initiate conversations. Will would text you, all the time really, he'd just be too busy to see you. Between acting roles and sending time with his partner, you'd only be with him through text messages.
An epiphany struck you one day: you deserved better.
You knew you were right, and that's why it made your choice to painful. You had to cut ties with Will, but you had no idea how you'd do that without breaking down.
You took the coward's way out, at least, you thought it was cowardly.
You simply just stopped replying to his text messages. But once he started to text you messages like "can we talk?" you thought you might give him a chance. You said you'd do it tomorrow, then tomorrow turned into the next day, then a week passes, then a month. You stopped thinking about it, you didn't want to think about it, because every time you did, the urge to contact Will got stronger and stronger. You wanted to move on. You needed to move on. But, you never could get him out of your thoughts completely.
Months and months go by, and before you know it, it's Christmastime.
You'd decided to travel around after cutting off contact with Will, mostly just couch hopping with friends, exploring the area to get your mind off how heart broken you felt. It was a good distraction, for awhile. But now that Christmas was soon, you had to go back to your home town; you did miss your family quite a lot. But you did feel that similar anxiousness after coming back home, thinking about Will and the "what ifs." Will always loved spending time with his family during the holidays, and you knew he'd probably be in town.
Just going outside to check the mail was nerve wracking to you, but you chuckled bitterly at your paranoia, it's not like he was going to show up at your house out of the blue. He wouldn't do that.
Your family really wanted a Christmas tree, a real one. You tried to use your allergies as an excuse to just stick with an artificial tree, but your parents were dead set on having a real tree. It wasn't exactly a lie, you used to get real trees, you just couldn't be around one too closely or else you get into a sneezing fit. But you really just didn't want to be out in the town, just in case.
But your family dragged you along to help pick out a tree anyway, in the freezing cold.
You idly kicked some icicles that were formed on the bottom of tree branches, smiling subtly to yourself as you heard the crackle of the ice hitting the concrete. You looked over to see your family still trying to decide on what kind of tree they wanted, and you remembered how indecisive your folks were. You were gonna be there for awhile...
"Y/n?" As if you weren't freezing enough, the voice that you heard from beside you made a chill go up your spine, causing you to sink down more into your coat.
You looked to your left, unluckily for you, seeing your former best friend beside you, an unreadable expression on his face. "Will...? Uh, w-what are you doing here?" You weren't sure if it was the cold that made you stutter, or just the pure nervousness and almost fear that you felt.
Will uncomfortably shifted on his feet, taking a deep breath before answering. "My, uh, mum wanted to have a tree this year. I'm guessing yours did too?"
You nodded curtly. "Yep."
The awkward silence made you want to curl up into a ball and throw yourself off a cliff.
"We should probably talk." Will said.
"Uh," You nervously rubbed your hands together, "I don't think that's a good idea..."
"Why not?" He asked bluntly, his expression turning cold.
You sighed. "I...well, I have to help my parents get this tree so..."
"Fine. I'll come by later."
"Wait-"
"See you tonight." And with that, Will walked away in a hurry, not giving you the chance to refuse.
You bit the inside of your lip hard, a coppery taste coating the tip of your tongue when you explored the small dent in your mouth that you created from stress.
You figured this day would come soon enough. Karma's a bitch, as some say. You thought you'd have a bit more time to prepare yourself for a confrontation, but the universe decided to be a jerk and sucker punch you in the face with your regrets.
You went home, feeling like a knife was twisting in your gut as you helped your family set up your Christmas tree in the living room, constantly glancing at the clock every chance you could.
Eventually, your family decided to leave the house once more, having bought tickets to a play that night, which you politely declined to go to. You weren't interested in yet another retelling of the Christmas story acted out by little bratty children who couldn't remember their lines half the time. No, you have somewhat decent standards.
You just sat on the living room couch with your family pet, staring at the clock, seeing the hands move slowly until it finally reached nine o'clock. You untensed for a moment, thinking that maybe Will decided to not come over. The loud ring of the doorbell quickly squashed that idea.
You opened the door, not surprised to see Will on the other side, his cold expression unchanged from when you last saw him.
You said nothing as you moved aside, opening the door wider for Will as he walked in.
The air felt thick, like there wasn't enough oxygen for both of you to be in the same room. It felt similar to whenever you pulled your blankets over your head when you were little and afraid of the dark, thinking that nothing can hurt you if you were completely wrapped up in the comfort of your duvet, but never getting enough fresh air to keep those blankets over your head, eventually having to pull the blankets off to breathe. You really wished you had a blanket now...
"Well?" Will broke the silence, looking to you expectantly.
You shrugged slightly. "Well what?"
Will chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "You know what, Y/n." When you didn't reply, he continued. "You stop talking to me all of a sudden, for months, not even telling me why. I need to know why, I deserve an explanation."
You sighed, looking anywhere but at him. "I just...needed some time away..." What a fucking lie...
"Some time away, really? That's your excuse? We were best friends, everything was fine, so what went wrong, huh? Why did you just up and leave everything behind without telling me?" You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself as his voice got louder with every sentence. "Are you even listening to me? Do you hate me now, is that it? I don't know what I did, please, tell me." He pleaded.
"Will..." You whispered, finally looking to him to see unshed tears in his eyes. "it was me, not you. You didn't do anything wrong..."
Will stepped closer to you, his arms crossed. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt to be ghosted by the one person you thought cared about you the most? It really fucking hurt. And now, you're just standing here like you don't even care."
"I do care, Will." You said softly, reaching out to touch him but he quickly flinched away.
"Then why did you leave? I want the truth."
"I wasn't happy...with myself...with you." You started, walking over to take a seat on your couch. "I felt alone. You spent all your time with your partner, you rarely had time for me anymore."
"Wait, my partner?"
"Yeah...the beginning of this year, you started dating that person, I forgot their name..."
Will shook his head. "It didn't work out with them, I'm not seeing anyone, haven't for awhile. But that's not the point. Why didn't you just tell me that you felt alone? You know I would've made time for you if that's what you needed."
You felt like you wanted to scream, frustration starting to consume you, but you settled for a muffled groan. "It wasn't just because I felt alone..."
"Then what?"
Fuck it...
"Because I hated seeing you date other people. I absolutely hated it. And when you started gushing about how amazing this person was, I felt like I wanted to bash my head in with a hammer." Okay, maybe that was a little exaggerated, but you got your point across.
"You didn't want me to date other people?" Will's heart beat rapidly in his chest, just the thought of why you possibly felt that was making him anxious to ask, "Why?"
You were scared to answer, afraid of his reaction. What if he hated you? That would be the worst case scenario, you'd rather die than have him hate you. But, you did owe it to Will to tell him the truth. The unfiltered, honest truth.
"We've been friends for as long as I can remember. We always told each other everything." You smiled weakly. "We'd always be happy for each other whenever we went on dates and found people that made us happy. But...there was a point where I realized that no matter how many dates I went on with other people, I never truly found happiness in those people. Because, I always thought about someone else...you." You looked up at Will. "You've always been the one person to make me truly happy. And I finally figured it out, it's not because you were my best friend, it's because...you're the one I always wanted to be with, Will."
Will took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to take in your words. "That night, when I was about to go on that date, you weren't yourself. You looked sad..."
"I didn't want you to go. I wanted you to stay with me." You wiped away a few fallen tears with your sleeve, sighing tearfully. "I was being selfish...really selfish." You frowned.
Will carefully sat beside you, looking straight ahead. The red and green lights placed crookedly on the Douglas fir being one of the only light sources in the room, illuminating your tear ridden face and causing a reflective shine to Will's glassy sorrowful eyes.
"I had no idea." Will said, being the first one to break the silence yet again.
"That was kind of the point." You sniffled, curling your knees up to your chest.
"...I'm sorry."
You furrowed your brows, looking to Will in confusion. "Why are you sorry? I'm the only one who should be sorry."
Will shook his head. "No..." He laughed sharply, clenching his fists in his lap. "It's funny."
"What is?" You asked, trying not to sound offended.
"I've spend years trying to get over my feelings for you, and you tried to do the same. Guess I'm not as intuitive as I thought."
You silently gasped. "Will? You...? Huh?"
Will smiled weakly. "I only started dating other people because I was trying to push away my feelings for you, and of course, it didn't work."
"Will, if this is some joke-"
"It's not. Have I ever lied to you?"
"...no. You've had feelings for me this entire time? And I punished you for it..." You said as you felt the tears well up in your eyes again.
"No, Y/n, no. You had no way of knowing, just like I had no way of knowing how you felt about me."
"I'm so sorry, Will. I never should've left."
Will quickly grabbed a hold of your hand, bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your knuckles. "You're here now. It's okay...we're okay."
"Can you ever forgive me?"
Will smiled softly. "Of course. I've never been able to stay mad at you for long."
You frowned. "What if I deserve it?"
"No. No, you don't. It's all going to be okay."
You took a deep breath, trying not to burst into tears again as Will pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "What now?"
"Maybe it's too early to ask but...we could go on a date." Will chuckled weakly.
You looked back up at Will, trying to hide your growing smile. "Really?"
"If that's what you want."
You looked at the clock. "It's getting a little late, I don't think that many places would be open right now. We could go out tomorrow?"
"It's a date." Will smiled.
You sighed. "I really wish I would've talked to you about this instead of running away..."
Will shook his head, bringing his hand up to gently caress your cheek. "I shouldn't have raised my voice earlier. So now we both have something we regret. But it's okay, Y/n. I felt like running away quite a few times myself whenever you went out with someone else...or just hiring a hitman or something."
You laughed genuinely, playfully pushing Will's shoulder. "I think my family is gonna be home soon."
"That's my cue to leave, I take it?"
You pouted. "I don't want you to."
"Well, hey, we'll see each other tomorrow." He smiled.
You walked Will to your front door, frowning as he opened it. "I never used to be the clingy type with anyone."
Will turned around to face you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in for a warm hug. "It's all going to be okay. We're gonna do this thing right."
You pulled away with a huff, looking deeply into his eyes. "I really want to kiss you right now." You giggled.
Will grinned, replying to your statement by leaning in, delicately brushing his lips over yours before fully placing them onto yours passionately. You could truthfully say that the kiss made you weak in the knees, it was everything you imagined it to be and more. It was intoxicating.
The kiss quickly got heated, and you didn't know if you'd be able to stop yourself. Will grabbed at your sides, trying to pull you even closer than you were already, eliciting a quiet moan from you when he gently pulled on the roots of your hair. But you finally forced yourself to stop, trying to catch your breath.
"Sorry." Will quickly apologized.
"I didn't want to stop." You snickered, running your hands through your now tangled hair. "We haven't even gone on our first date yet and I already want to rip your clothes off."
Will blushed and grinned. "Guess we'll just have to save it for tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow it is."
~~~~~~~~~
I had trouble writing this, if you couldn't already tell. Ugh, I have no idea why the reunion bit threw me off balance so badly
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20 and 59 for the mashup au prompts. Any pairing that strikes your fancy :)
From this post here
Describe how I’ll combine them: Co-teachers to lovers via secret admirer shenanigans.
“And don’t forget, project drafts are due next Thursday.”
So far, so good, Lena thinks as she gathers up her belongings and heads out the door of her first class of the day. She likes it here in Midvale. It’s a lot slower, a lot quieter, a lot--
Force, mass, velocity, something bumps into her hard.
“Oh shoot! I am so sorry. Here…”
The woman who apparently was the thing that bumped into her bends down and picks her things up off the floor.
Lena is, of course, properly miffed and halfway to a firm scolding until the woman straightens up again and Lena forgets how talking works for a moment.
Her hair is flowing in golden locks and the bluest eyes she had ever seen are looking at her from behind dark-rimmed glasses.
“Wait, you’re the new girl, right? Lena from Metropolis?”
“Yes,” Lena clears her throat. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Sorry about that,” the woman says nervously. “Let me make it up to you. Lunch in the hall at lunchtime?”
Lena should say no. She’s not here to make friends. But the blonde is cute and her shoulders are...nice. So…
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
The blonde gives her a thumbs up and turns to leave, but quickly turns around and jogs back to where Lena is standing mutely.
“It’s Kara, by the way.” She extends a hand towards Lena in introduction. “Kara Danvers. I teach English.”
Ao3
Kara Danvers takes it upon herself to be Lena from Metropolis’ first ever official work friend.
-
Lena loses a fight with the coffee maker. She’d been having a bad day already, see. Her mother had called this morning, so naturally, by the time the damn machine stopped working, she was on the brink of tears.
“Hey there, is everything alright?” Kara asks cautiously as she walks into the break area.
“Everything is fucking dandy, thanks.” Lena growls, angrily swiping a hand at her eyes.
“Whoa, okay… You know, Noonan’s is right over there and your next class isn’t til 3, we could--”
“How did you know that?”
Kara casually points to the schedule on the board behind her.
Lena only growls again.
“Okay, you’re really wound up. Come on, a walk could do you some good.”
Kara learns that Lena is here as a middle school science teacher because she wants to prove something to her mother. And the pressure is getting to her.
“Sometimes you don't have to do amazing, just have to do your best.” Kara says reasonably. “Look, you're great and your students love you. So don't worry about what your mother says. Judge your work by the proper standard or... something.”
Lena chuckles at that. Kara was probably right.
"Thank you. I… I really needed that."
Kara nods sagely and continues to sip at her iced coffee. "What are friends for?"
-
The note is simple and plain and handwritten and she has absolutely no idea what it means. Or who it’s from, for that matter.
It’s, well... It’s notes. The note contains notes. That much she can suppose from the five lines and the G-clef and the black dots staring back at her. She looks around for anyone who might have left it there by accident, but she’s alone in the faculty room. What’s more, the note is wedged between the pages of her lesson plan for today, the only thing currently lying on her desk. Frowning, she looks back down at the small piece of paper and shoves it into one of her drawers. She’ll decide what to do with it later.
-
The note notes are piling up now and she thinks this might be something worth investigating. She'd gotten three more over the last week, each with the same handwriting and the same paper, but the notes on the staff (she does know some things) seemed to be different every time. She lines them up in order of the dates she got them and squints intensely at them, daring the offending dots to tell her what the hell is going on.
-
Kara's eyes widen in horror when she walks into the faculty room and sees Lena glaring at the notes.
Her notes.
She quickly makes to get out again but Lena's already seen her.
"Kara, hey!"
Shit.
"Hi, what's up?" the blonde responds, her voice suddenly pitchy.
"Can you help me figure this out?" She scoots over as Kara leans into her space and over her desk.
"Oh, they're notes," Kara tries nonchalantly.
"I can see that," Lena deadpans. "Notes to what?"
"Ehm, well this is a G, and this is a D… That's an E minor… It's a song."
Lena fights the urge to dramatically roll her eyes. "Do you know what song it is?"
Dammit, this is wonderful.
"It could be any song, Lena."
She's still trying to dodge it but Lena is adamant. And Kara doesn't want to lie, but she doesn't want to be found out, either.
"Uh... I could play it and maybe we can figure it out?"
"Okay, let's try that."
-
The music room is empty, much to Kara's eternal chagrin, so she and Lena walk up to the piano and she starts to play the notes that Lena holds up in front of her.
"It's Elvis," Kara says simply.
Lena soon recognizes the tune and starts to hum along with the keys. Just then, Kara slowly looks up from her seat and is mesmerized by the sight: the light is hitting Lena's face just so, illuminating the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the dark red of her hair. She wishes she could stay in this moment forever. And if Lena were paying attention, she would notice that Kara wasn't even looking at the notes anymore. She was playing by heart.
"Oh, that's sweet," Lena whispers when the tune is done. "And you never told me you could play."
"My dad taught me the basics. The rest I figured out myself," Kara says quietly.
"Aren't you full of surprises?"
-
"It might be Mike, you know, that guy from the marching band? He is objectively good looking."
"He chews with his mouth open."
"Ooh, could it be Jack from phys ed?" He walks around with a guitar most Fridays."
"Lena, Jack is so gay for the bar owner and you know it."
"Well, who could it be?"
Me, Kara wants to say. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to make things weird.
They're sitting on the bleachers during the afternoon break, Lena leaning into her side munching on the donuts Kara had gotten for them. It wasn't hard for them to fall into this sort of easy companionship. Kara was open and friendly, and Lena, once her walls had gone down, was sharp and fascinating. And Kara fears that the feelings she's developed might ruin whatever this was that they had. So instead of being honest with herself, she just shrugs and bites sullenly into her own donut.
"It could be anyone."
-
People are starting to notice how often they are together, start talking about how cute they look next to each other. And so people waste no time in throwing them into each other's paths, especially since prom is three days away.
-
“Come ON, Lena!” Kara yells as she grabs Lena’s hand and drags her to the dance floor. Lena tries her best until she isn’t so much trying as she is struggling to keep up with Kara, who seems to have only got more hyper as the night wore on. But the joy on her face is infectious, and honestly, if she got to see this every day, Lena wouldn’t mind.
The song ends and the band’s vocalist approaches the mic.
"Hey, hey, everybody, y’all having a good time?”
The crowd whoops in affirmation.
“Alright! Well I think it’s about the proper hour, so we’re gonna slow things down a bit starting with a classic.”
The opening strains of a piano-driven ballad fill the air, and Kara politely extends a hand towards Lena.
Lena accepts.
Wise men say only fools rush in / But I can’t help falling in love with you
The world around them dissolves as they sway together, Kara’s hand gentle against the small of Lena’s back, Lena’s arm reaching up behind Kara’s shoulder.
“It’s Elvis,” Kara whispers against her hair.
“It was you,” Lena chuckles in response.
“You knew?” Kara says as she draws back to look at her.
“No. But I was kinda hoping.” She smiles warmly and Kara has never seen anything more beautiful in her life.
“You’re not mad?”
“Darling, why would I be mad?” Lena lifts her hand to brush it across Kara’s cheek. “You had me at Oh Shoot."
Kara laughs as she ducks her head in embarrassment and Lena cannot help but join her.
"I'd really like to kiss you right now."
"Please do."
#Full disclosure i have zero experience with teacher AUs#Like i was legit scared when this landed in my inbox#But i had fun doing this and it was a good brain stretch#so thank you spicycheeser for the challenge and i hope this was to your liking#i went with sc bcs why not#20 teacher au#59 interrupted declaration of love#RBmicrofics#writing tag#word count#1476#supercorp#kara danvers#lena luthor#supergirl
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Shigaraki x Shy!Reader-NSFW
Summary: your pinning is driving Tomura crazy. Instead of reading it as your admiration for him, he is under the impression that you are disgusted by him.
warnings: tears, eating out, blowjob, embarrassment, deepthroating...
my image was taken down so have this as a replacement ( i had to post this all the ver again bc it got flagged and it had like 400/500 votes 😔)
/masterlist/
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
If you stare at him long enough, maybe he'll develop an ability to read your mind and ask himself out on a date?
Right? Righttt?
"The fuck are you staring at, you creep" he would turn his head away, leaving the bar area and going to his room.
Your head would slam nose first into the table, cursing yourself out under your breath.
"Keep it up and he'll think you've gone mute"
"Good." you mumble, fiddling the edges of the letter from your pocket.
Once you've calmed down you pull the latter out, staring at it.
Maybe you should just burn it to crisps, letters are cliche anyways...
"Want a drink?" Kurogiri mumbles pointing at the shelves behind him.
You nod, making your way to your favorite tequila brand, not even bothering to take salt or lemons, taking the whole bottle to your room.
Kurogiri sighs, cleaning up the countertop of his bar.
His hand freezes over the later you carelessly left.
He knows what it is, you've been crying over it for weeks on end.
He'll deal with your scoldings later.
The letter falls through the portal, softly hitting the keyboard Shigaraki was currently playing on.
Meanwhile, you're sat in your room, the bottle kinda forgotten since your sobs made it too hard to chug the liquid down.
Why do you always fall for the emotionally unavailable boys? Is it a curse?
The knock on your door snaps you out of your self-pity, collecting yourself and wiping your tears away.
"Come in" you mumble, trying to seem uninterested while scrolling through your phone.
"Now tell me, is it yours? Or is someone just fucking with me?"
The yell makes you jump up, your shoulders stiffening.
You look up, just to be met with your angry boss, gripping your letter with four of his fingers.
"Fucking speak, what the fuck is your problem, it's a yes or no question!"
You bit down at your lip, tears threatening to spill again.
You nod your head, taking a deep breath.
"Yes, please leave now."
As your gaze is stuck on the floor underneath his shoes, you notice the small speckles of dirt swaying towards the floor.
You look up at his hand again, your letter now gradually falling apart.
The sting in your chest burns up through your throat, the tears now spilling as your muffle your cries with your duvet, biting on it as hard as you can.
Shigaraki never had any experience with this.
He had never seen a person hurting because of him( well in this way at least ).
He was never the one to comfort someone else.
He didn't know how since he was never treated with kindness himself.
Nonetheless, he made his way to the bed, nudging the fabric away from your face.
You instinctively closed your eyes, afraid that if you see his expression again, you would literally fall apart.
His rough thumb dipped under your chin, the skin of his hand scratching at your soft flesh.
"Did you mean it?"
"Please stop torturing me, just leave, I'll pack my stuff later" you choked out, moving your head out of his grip.
He knew his actions were contradicting his feelings but he knew he was ready to try, for the sake of the only relationship he'll possibly have.
The possibility of anyone but you liking his damaged ass was almost nonexistent.
And if he was honest with himself, he always had a thing for you.
At first, he thought it was just because he found you unbearably hot, your thighs grabbing his attention each time you crossed his path.
But after he had seen you all bruised up and wrecked after fights, he realized he didn't really care how your body looked like.
"I like you too"
Your cries suddenly come to a stop.
"The fuck did you just say?"
"I said I like you too"
Your eyes found his, your brows furrowed as you huffed.
"You could've just told me that before you destroyed my letter and made me cry my soul out" you scoffed, folding your arms to your chest and staring at the wall on the far end of the room.
His face was now incredibly close to yours, the look on his face was unreadable.
When he was in his teenage years, he found himself sleeping around with a couple of lowlifes, the only thought on his mind was getting his dick wet (surprisingly there existed ppl desperate to have sex with anyone and everyone)
Now that he's supposed to actually kiss someone, he's terrified of fucking it up and making a fool of himself.
"Kiss me." he demands, his hand touching your cheek.
It takes you second to drop your "I'm offended act" as you gently place your lips over his.
His other hand carefully rests over your hip, invading your space as he pushes his lips harder against you.
Once things get heated up, you notice the way Tomura's hands shake against the hem of your shirt, his lips still greedily swallowing up every whimper that escapes you.
"We can go as slow as you'd like" you softly push him away, your soft palm rubbing against his cheek.
He buries his head into the crook of your neck as he slowly nods.
"Go ahead." you will him on, as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head.
The way he stares at your exposed skin makes your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
You try to hide your face behind your hands, but your action is interrupted once Tomura's fingers glide past your lips.
You lull your tongue out, making it easier for him to pump the digits down your throat.
His other hand kneads at your exposed flesh, enjoying the way your breath hitches around his fingers each time he glides or pulls onto the sensitive nubs.
His fingers leave your mouth, his tongue replacing them instantly.
His fingers glide down to your chest, playing with the bud between his fingertips, your own drool making them glide smoothly over the sensitive nerves.
You rub your thighs together, your pussy leaking onto your underwear, making them damp.
The material of your panties slides between your folds, adding a bit more friction as you moan into Tomura's mouth.
He stops to drink in the desperate movement of your hips and he grins.
The insecurity he felt a couple of minutes ago dissolved once he noticed your flush expression.
He kicks his shoes off, fully climbing onto your bed.
Your hands grab at his belt, the metal cooling down your heated skin.
You struggle with it as the thumping in your chest makes it hard for you to focus.
Tomura helps you take his pants off completely, kicking them off his feet.
You look up to see him biting his lip as he expectingly stares at you.
You lean down over his clothed bulge, your tongue licking over the small wet spot staining the fabric.
His hands move to clutch at the bedsheets once you
pull the cloth down.
Your pussy drools at the sight of his cock, the veins throbbing each time your breath ghosts over his dick.
You grab ahold of his cock, steading it as you start to slide him into your mouth.
The corners of your mouth burn as you struggle to take the whole length in, battling your gag reflex once you hear him groan out.
The taste of him slowly fades away as your spit coats his cock.
Your mouth experimentally glides up and down a few times, your lips getting used to the stretch.
You swallow around his cock, his hips stuttering up before he apologizes.
The rim of your mouth repeatedly slams against the fingers of your hand that's still clutching at his base.
His hand carefully wraps into your hair, following your movement, his hips instinctively snapping each time your throat contracts around him.
The thrusts of his hips become more violent by the second and you're sure your jaw's gonna hurt after this.
The soft whimpers leaving his lips are the only thing making you fight the urge to slip your mouth off of him.
You dig your nails into his thigh, trying to steady yourself as his pace becomes sloppy and uneven.
"I d-don't-" he growls pushing your head away as his hips push into the air, his cock throbbing as he tries to clear his head.
You stare at him in confusion, gasping for air.
He feels like a simple additional touch could make his cock burst.
The tip of his dick is swollen and red, beads of precum spilling at his head.
"I want to make you cum so bad" he mumbles as he slides on-top of you, pushing your back into the mattress.
Your pants are slowly dissolved as he grabs the hem of it with his fingers, shooting you an apologetic look.
His hands push your thighs apart, revealing your ruined panties.
The low grumble in his throat makes your walls flutter.
Once your underwear is pushed to the side, his tongue is reaching out to collect the liquid into his mouth.
The satisfying groan that vibrates into your pussy makes your cheeks heat up all over again.
His fingertips are carefully dipping into the flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs to their limit, giving him full access to your cunt.
His licks are slow and timid, his mind focusing on each sound you make.
Once his tongue is buried into your pussy and his nose nuzzled into your clit, your hands gripping at the base of his neck.
He's pushing it in and out of you, listening to your broken out praises.
"T-thank you, thank y-you, please don't stop, p-please."
His cock is rubbing against your sheets as he lapping all over your cunt.
"Touch yourself " he demands as he focuses on pushing his tongue deeper into you.
Your hand goes to your puffy clit, his spit making your fingers glide over with ease.
Soft moans leave his mouth each time he swallows, his hips find a steady pace as he waits for you to lose yourself.
The knot in your belly tightens as you suck in a deep breath, your orgasm making you push your hips up into Tomura's mouth, his hands still pushing at your legs, not letting you close them around his head.
Your legs began to shake under the pressure, his licks not slowing down.
You try to wiggle your hips out of the way, but he just looks up at you with a threatening gaze.
Once tears begin to roll down your cheeks, he is satisfied enough to let go of you.
His mouth leaves your pussy with a wet "pop" sound.
You look down at your bedsheets to find them completely ruined.
You let out a small laugh, making Tomura feel guilty for making himself look like a pervert.
You pull him down to lay next to you, gently trailing your fingers down his skin.
"Don't worry about it, it's fairly erotic" you reassure him as he buries his face in your chest.
"I'm not embarrassed " he huffs out hiding his face even more.
"Yeah, never said you were" you mumble, comfortingly scratching his head.
You'll have to thank Kurogiri in the morning.
___________
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A Day With The Genshin Characters: Liyue Edition
Today's going to be a busy day! Check your planner for who you'll be meeting with- as one of the esteemed members of the Liyue Qixing, you cannot afford to be late to any appointment.
• 6:00, Ningguang: Morning Tea
Although you say you love your job, waking up at un-archonly hours has to be the part you like the least. Even getting up at five in the morning, the hour when tigers prowl, is still not enough time to prepare for a meeting with the Tianquan. You rush around frantically choosing the best outfit, fragrance, and hair arrangement to present yourself to Lady Ningguang, and you're halfway out the door when it hits you- you forgot to bring a gift with you!
"Right on time," Ningguang says, pleased. You smile, hoping she won't hear your heart beating from anxiety. "And what a lovely present, too... is there any doubt you were appointed as one of the seven Qixing?" (You can't tell if it's her rare praise, or the sheer altitude you're at within the Jade Chamber, that's making your head spin).
• 7:00, Keqing: Business Meeting
You barely have time to rest before Keqing whisks you away to Yuehai Pavilion. You're very close friends, and you admire the girl for her tenacity and diligence. The conversation flows easily as you walk to your destination under a cloudless sky. It's a wonderfully sunny moment, but the moment the doors lock, you mean business. In the next two hours, you conquer matters that would normally take days to resolve, and the two of you exchange grins.
"There we go!" Keqing breathes a sigh of relief, pushing away the last stack of papers. She holds up her hand, and you high-five. "You know, I like how easily you keep up with me. You even caught mistakes I would have missed... things like this make me even more certain Liyue is better off in human hands."
• 9:00: Check In With Ganyu
With such a hectic schedule, Ganyu is your saving grace. It's always important to check in with her, just to make sure nothing you have planned catches you by surprise, and sometimes you wonder why others rarely do the same. She's quite lonely, and often mentions how nice it is that you speak with her every day and bring her gifts to help with work. It may be part of your job to be courteous, but... it does help her feel less lonely and conflicted with herself.
"Qingxin flowers? Thank you so much." She accepts them gratefully, smiling at you with warm eyes. "I still have that new stationery you gave me, too. You're so kind for remembering the things I like!"
• 9:30: Talk to Beidou
The tea in the Jade Chamber was just a front for Ningguang to spring a request on you- meet with the captain of the Crux Fleet to discuss her... recent smuggling habits. But Beidou merely laughs heartily when you arrive. A crewmate tosses her a sack of Mora, and she slits it open, letting the payment shower over you in a spray of gold. And then, before you know what's happening, you're roped into helping them find a treasure rumored to be lost beneath the waves.
"So, Ningguang though sending her star diplomat would get me to let up, huh!" You blush, wondering how you could be so easy to read under her ruby eye. "I was impressed by your words, and how well you fought by my side. But the annoyance of the Liyue Qixing is of no concern to me."
• 12:00, Tartaglia: TEACH HIM A LESSON!
As the member of the Qixing that oversees diplomacy and foreign relations, it's you that must meet with the Fatui Harbinger. He's quite good at playing pretend- all your underlings believed he was a naive, careless young man, and easily manipulated, too. And all of them ended up suppressing the urge to break something after they were done conversing with him. On your honor as one of Liyue's seven stars, you vow to not make their mistakes.
"You're asking why I don't try to drive you mad?" he said, setting down his fork. You'd caved in and given him one after watching him struggle with chopsticks for far too long. "You're the only one who isn't a bore to talk to, that's all-" so this was on purpose?!- "and besides, I want to challenge you to a fight afterwards! Your vision's getting quite dusty from neglect, comrade. Let's fix that!"
• 2:00, Yanfei: Discussion of Legal Matters
Yanfei's counsel is an invaluable treasure. Especially when dealing with an opponent as vicious as Snezhnaya's Fatui, who deserve to have her wrath unleashed upon them. You walk to her office with a gleam in your eyes, and are delighted to see an equal fire already blazing in hers. For the next few hours, you two take the "suggestions" Tartaglia passed on from the Northland Bank and scheme on how to best tear them to shreds with the law.
"That man-childe's been giving you trouble again, huh," she giggles. "What did he come up with this time~? I've been waiting for an excuse to bring out the latest edition of my lawbook!" And with that, Yanfei slams it down, and the sheer weight of it nearly cracks her desk. "He won't know what hit him!"
• 4:00: Free Time
Of course, "free time" simply means that you have no meetings scheduled for this hour, which lets you adequately prepare for the next day's events. Tomorrow is your appointment with the Feiyun Commerce Guild, which you already know will require great patience and strength of mind. Because the head of the guild, and his eldest son, the future head, are- to put it mildly- not very bright... it's fortunate, then, that the second son Xingqiu has a good head on his shoulders.
"Tomorrow, you should go straight to me instead," Xingqiu informs you cheerily, handing you a popsicle. Apparently, he keeps them around for his friend Chongyun, who's off to complete another exorcism. "I'll be sure to set everything in order." His eyes gleam. "And then, I can tell you the latest developments in 'A Legend of Sword'!"
• 5:00: Catch Xinyan's Concert!
Liyue's one and only rock musician isn't hard to find, thanks to the designated performance spots scattered around the city. You stop by at the raised platform where she's rocking out, where other people are listening as well. Xinyan strikes a peace sign in the air, and her vision glows with energy before the stage erupts with pillars of fire; her audience bursts into cheers and applause, and she's beaming as she leaps down to meet you.
"Wait, seriously? You really changed up the rules a lil' so it'll be easier for me to hold concerts here?" Her eyes shine as they scan the papers- one of the many results of your work today in Yuehai. "Thank you so much! Wait-" she picks up her guitar again, giving it an experimental riff. "Let me think up a quick song for ya as thanks- I insist!"
• 6:00: Wangsheng Funeral Parlor
Lately, you've been sent particularly determined requests from the other nations about allowing tourists to observe the ancient funeral rites. You already know the answer's gonna be a hard no, but the laws written by Rex Lapis state that you must check with the director anyway. She's not there when you arrive, so a consultant, Zhongli, brings you tea while you wait for her. You sit together in the fading sun, waiting for Hu Tao's familiar song to rise above the hill.
Zhongli takes a quiet sip from his cup, closing his luminous eyes. "Although it was Rex Lapis who created the laws, they are not meant to be set in stone. Humans must revise the contract as they see fit, so that it will not erode with the passage of time." Something makes you feel as though it's more significant to him than you know. Then, he smiles slightly. "But, just looking at the people leading the way in his absence, like you... there's no need for me to worry."
• 8:00: Dinner; Request Chef Xiangling
The Wanmin Restaurant, run by Chef Mao and his daughter, is a breath of fresh air. While the rest of Liyue is divided between the "Li" and "Yue" styles of cooking, Xiangling pays the conflict no mind. Instead, she's not afraid to be daring and experiment, blazing ahead without worrying about what others think. You can see some similarities between her and Keqing, but it's best not to mention it after that disastrous banquet they organized together...
"Had a rough day, didn't you?" Xiangling asks, her golden eyes twinkling as she hands you the steaming hot bowl. "Well, for you, I made sure to prepare your favorite dish! I hope you don't mind if I added a lizard or two this time- I'm kidding!" she adds quickly, upon seeing alarm flash across your face.
• 9:00: Return Home
After everything that happened, you're eager to collect the reports from your subordinates and head home to draft new revisions for Tianquan Ningguang to look over (and then, hopefully, get some rest). But as you're walking on the path to your neighborhood, you spot a little girl sitting in the grass, clutching her head. Alarm rises in your chest as you rush over to see what's wrong, and why she's alone- only to realize with a start that she's the child that returned from the dead.
"Thank you for taking Qiqi back to Bubu Pharmacy," she says, reading solemnly from her notebook (where the entire thank-you script is written). Even when you set her down, she's still reading the pieces of paper. "Will you tell Dr. Baizhu where I got lost? Please and thank you, again."
• 10:00: Sleep
In the end, you never did get to those revisions. You can hear your fellow Qixing scolding you in your head, but at least you got plenty of other things done; the well-oiled machine that is Liyue will still keep running on thanks to the tasks you accomplished today. Someday, even the adepti will have to acknowledge the ability of humans... you turn in your bed to feel the coolness of the other side. Speaking of adepti... the night air coming in... reminds you of... "Xiao..."
"I thought you were in danger," the adeptus huffs. The moment you said his name, you'd finally fallen asleep, but it still brought Xiao to you- balanced on the windowsill, hair waving in the breeze. "Still... I'm... glad that you're alright," he admits, glancing at you to make sure you're not awake to hear. "Rest well, bright star of Liyue." And then, with a sound like a sigh- or was it the wind?- he's gone.
#genshin imagines#zhongli x reader#childe x reader#ningguang x reader#beidou x reader#xiao x reader#genshin scenarios
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